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latenightdaydreams · 1 month

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can you do the virgin königx virgin reader where she finally lets him take her virginity (they got married)

Of course!

Virgin!König x Virgin!Reader (fem) Part2

MDNI��

Part 1: Here

Master list

>CW: fem/afab, virginity loss, p in v, oral

2k word count

König sits at the Bride and Grooms table watching you do your father daughter dance, and you look beautiful. Today was the perfect day. Your white wedding dress clinging to your beautiful body while your hair is done up beautifully. He can’t believe someone that looks like him, acts like him, could find such a beautiful wife. A beautiful wife with such a perfect pair of tits and a fat ass that can take every inch of his cock…

His eyes stay glued to you the whole night, using the excuse of social anxiety to stay seated and not socialize; in reality he is sporting a rock-hard boner that’s clear to see in his pants. Can you blame him? You look ethereal and he has the honor of deflowering you tonight. It’s all he can think about. What will it feel like? Better than anal? No way. Can it? His head turns as your voice snaps him back to reality.

“My family said they would clean up if we want to get out of here since it has been a long day.” You walk up to him and sit on his lap. His large hands instantly find their way to your thighs and rear.

“That’s very kind of them Schatz,” he can feel his cock starting to get hard again now with your weight on his lap and knowing he is one step closer.

You both stand and begin to say goodbye to the remaining family. König was doing his best to not seem impolite by rushing you, but he was also gently guiding you to the door with his tight grip around your waist.

Finally, you both leave and make your way to his SUV. He scoops you up and begins to kiss your neck as he walks the last few steps to the car.

“Meine Liebe, du siehst wunderschön aus.” He whispers in your ear as he gently places you in the passenger seat of the car. You smile and blush in response as he runs around the car to get in.

“Are you ready to go to the hotel?” König grabs your left hand and kisses the wedding band that now hugs your finger.

“I am,” you giggle with excitement as he begins to drive off.

König walks up to the hotel room door with you in his arms carrying you bridal style. A wide smile on his face as he bends down and lets you scan the keycard. Walking into the room there are rose petals everywhere as well as a complimentary bottle of campaign and two glasses.

He places you down on the bed gently, his lips finding yours and kissing you passionately. His lips are hungry for yours now that you’re both alone and able to do things married couples do. Not only can he fuck you, but he can cum in you. He can get you pregnant. The thought of someone so…desirable pregnant with his baby is driving him insane.

König pushes his tongue against your lips and bullies it way inside of your mouth; he is hungry for you. His hand begins to grope your breast over your wedding dress, eager to get you out of it. His hand reaches around back and begins to be greeted by buttons. This wasn’t going to slow him.

Pulling down your tight dress to expose your breast König begins to kiss down your neck until he gets to your breast, his lips kissing every inch until his lips wrap around your nipple and sucks while twirling his tongue around. His hand grabbing bunches of fabric and picking it up until he can get his hand under.

His hand feels the heat between your legs and his cock begins to rise. He pushes past your thighs to touch the lacey fabric that covers his holy grail. He lets out a deep groan as he pulls his lips from your breast. Bringing his hand out from under your dress, he pulled his button-down shirt and popped the buttons off to get it off quickly. You couldn’t help but to giggle at his eagerness.

“Let’s get this dress off of you.” His arm wraps around your waist and effortlessly flips you so he can see the buttons. His eyes widen seeing how many and how small they are. The top four broke from him exposing your breast. “Schatz, would you be mad if I just ripped them?”

“Yes!” You respond quickly, shooting him a glare.

“Okay, okay.” He makes an “oh shit” face as his fingers begin to work at the buttons. After what felt like eons he finally finished.

With one swift motion he pulls the dress off of you and lays it on the chair in the room. His eyes rake over your body. He has seen it hundreds of times before but this time it’s his. His hands go to his belt and he begins to undress from the waist down. You get yourself comfortable on the bed and scoot back to the headboard. Your leg falls to the side slightly and exposed how your red lace thong barely covers your pussy as one lip hangs out the side. You shaved? This was unexpected, but whatever you felt comfortable with König was into.

“Are you ready to start Liebling?” König asks while gently stroking his cock.

You give him a nervous nod as he approaches you on the bed. His heavy body made the bed sink as he moved his body over yours. His lips pressed against yours before he slowly began to leave a trail of wet and sloppy kisses down your body. Goosebumps rising on your skin as you squirm slightly from the pleasure of his kisses.

When his mouth met your pussy, you let out a light satisfied moan. His tongue teasing at first, only lightly licking up in quick motions as if you were an ice cream cone. Your eyes gazing down at him with anticipation. His icy blue eyes meeting yours as a smirk comes across his face. He lowers his head and begins to rapidly lap at your clit making your legs twitch like crazy. Your hands grasping the bed sheets as you let out a shaky moan.

Hips slowly roll back and forth matching his tongue’s motion. “Yes, please…” One hand moves to his head, brushing his blonde hair back. His eyes never left yours as he watched your reaction to his tongue.

Pulling back, König begins to rub your clit with his pointer finger. Slowly moving his finger down to feel the entrance of your vagina. His gaze drops as he looks at your beautiful cunt. His finger’s part your folds as he looks down to see your untouched vaginal canal. “I’m supposed to fit in that?” He thinks to himself, kissing your pussy a few more times he moves his body back over yours.

“Are we going to do it like this?” You ask nervously as his body begins to nestle between your legs.

“Ja, Liebling just relax, okay?” König was nervous as well, but he didn’t show it so you could relax.

Peppering small kisses across your chest and up your neck to your lips. His heavy cock resting on your wet pussy. The feeling of the heat and wetness teasing him. He moves his hips slightly to create some friction as he is rubbing it against your swollen clit.

“I’m nervous,” you say looking into his eyes as your hands go to the back of his head and caress his hair.

“I know, I’ll be gentle, Schatz.” He brings his hand up to caress your hair and brush it out of your face.

König moves his hand gently, slipping down to your thigh and moving your leg slightly up. He leans his body back slightly so he is kneeling with his back hunched over. With his other hand he grasps his erect cock and lines it up with your entrance.

Slowly he leans forward and pushes the tip in. Königs eyes frantically searching your face to make sure you’re okay. He can feel his sensitive tip being squeezed by your gummy and inviting warmth. With every bit of his power, he is resisting the urge to just push all the way in at once. Instead, he slowly pushes forward. His eyes trailing from your eyes down your body to look at his cock inching its way in.

You feel a sharp sting and pressure as he pushes in. A pained mewl leaves your lips as you close your eyes, your hands reaching for the bedsheets to grab. You read on the internet that it was only going to hurt a little, but you also read the average cock is only supposed to be like 5.5 inches and two fingers wide. You feel soft kisses on your forehead as he pushes in more and you moan out.

“Are you okay?” König asks, his voice dripping with pleasure.

“Yeah, it just hurts.” You look up at him.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, keep going.”

He is thankful you said to keep going because he didn’t want to pull out. With both hands, he pushes your legs back a little more as he watches his cock slowly pull half way out. There is a bit of crimson red on him, but he knew it was to be expected so he doesn’t worry.

Pushing back in he groans loudly, his hips pressing all the way against yours this time as he bottoms out. Your virgin pussy now squeezing the entire length of his massive cock. The feeling of your walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to his size, was too much for him. Eyes rolling back, he begins to buck his hips forward into you. The sound of your wet pussy is all he can focus on as his mind becomes lost in a haze of euphoria. He understands why men have gone to war for this.

“Fuck y/n, you feel so fucking good.” König growls as his eyes open to scan your body. Your breast bouncing beautifully in rhythm with his thrust. His dick covered in a mix of red and creamy white triggering something primal within him.

You begin to feel the pleasure overwhelm the pain as König pushes your legs all the way to your chest and begins to fuck you even faster. His massive 300lb body slamming into your tight cunt over and over. Your eyes going crossed as you struggle to stretch for him, babbling in your native language and begging him for more.

His cock passing over your sweet spot repeatedly causing a strange pressure sensation to build up at your core. Your hands desperately grab at Königs sweaty arms, feeling his muscles flex with every thrust.

“I- I have to pee.” You moan out.

This snaps König out of his euphoric haze and he looks down into your eyes, maintaining pace as he begins to watch you, knowing that you’re about to cum.

“König!” You moan out as the pressure begins to become too much and your legs begin to shake. You look into his eyes looking down at you. “I- I’m,” you can’t even speak

“Cum for me baby,” Königs voice sounds low and sensual. He leans back slightly to move one of his hands and he begins to rub circles over your clit with his thumb.

The extra touch took you over the edge. Legs trembling and eyes crossing, you let out a screaming moan. Your back arches as you succumb to pressure feeling. Waves of euphoria wash over your body as you squirt on Königs abdomen.

“Mein Gott, ja.” König whispers as he lightly slaps your soaking wet pussy.

“Es tut mir Leid,” Small whimpers leaving his lips König begins to mutter apologies in German over and over for not lasting longer, his pace becoming more erratic until he reaches climax.

A mix of both of your moans filling the room as his cock twitches and pulses inside your pussy. The head of his cock pressed all the way against your poor beat up cervix as he released completely. His eyes closed as he pants, trying to catch his breath. Droplets of sweat dripping from him on to you.

Slowly he lowers his body and wraps his arms around you. He begins to kiss you all over, telling you how much he loves you and is thankful you allowed him this moment.

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader smut #könig x you #könig x y/n

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aphroditelovesu · 5 months

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Yandere Henry VIII/Anne Boleyn Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ 👑 — lady l: I thought about this a while ago and it was saved in my drafts, but I only decided to write it now. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️❤️

❝tw: cheating, polyamorous relationship, obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of fights and jealousy.

❝ 👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader, yandere!anne boleyn x female!reader.

Anne was not blind to her husband's prying eyes on you. She felt angry, jealous and wanted to get rid of you as quickly as possible. But when Henry strictly forbade (threatened) her from doing something against you, she was shocked and smart enough not to act against his orders.

That being said, she started researching more about you. She was intrigued, it wasn't uncommon for Henry to keep mistresses and although she was hurt by this, there was nothing she could do. She hated it, but she was powerless against the King's power.

However, it was only after meeting you, after talking to you, that she finally understood why Henry was so interested in you. You had a unique grace, an aura that attracted her and made her comfortable. Before she knew it, Anne found herself longing for your company more which left her confused. Who in their right mind would fall in love with their husband's mistress?

It didn't matter anymore, not when Anne found herself falling more and more in love with you and soon began to feel jealous of her husband with you. It was unfair that he could have you and not her. .She deserved you more than him.

Henry, on the other hand, was over the moon. He quickly took you as his official mistress and no longer bothered trying to hide his affair with you, the love he felt for you. His desires for you were public knowledge and he was more than happy.

He knew this wouldn't please his wife, but he didn't care. Not when he had you in his arms, being loved and adored by him. You were so perfect, so sweet and so beautiful. You were made for him. Completely his.

Anne watched her husband interact with you with jealousy and longing, she wanted to hold you. She could no longer continue like this, being ignored. So she decided to act. During one night when her husband was visiting her, Anne decided to talk to him. Tell him how she feels about you. That she was attracted to you. Henry didn't know what to say.

He was stunned and silent, just watching his wife as if she were crazy. But Anne kept talking, wanting to make sure he understood. Henry remained strangely quiet and after a few minutes, a sparkle appeared in his eyes.

Henry would never accept sharing you with anyone, but he found the idea of sharing you with his wife strangely exciting. It wasn't ideal, but he saw nothing more pleasurable and lovely than having his mistress and his wife together.

They are both extremely possessive of you. They are jealous of each other with you, but they are more jealous of you around other people. You are theirs and Henry will use his power as King to deal with anyone who threatens his relationship with you. Anne had also used her influences to her advantage.

You are endlessly spoiled and adored. Servants are instructed to fulfill your every whim and desire. There is no doubt about who really holds all the power over them. Your relationship with Henry is public knowledge, but with Anne is kept private.

But that doesn't mean she stays away from you because she doesn't. Anne does her best to be by your side during the day, the touches and looks are discreet and shared only between you. Henry also participates, but he has no shame and actually kisses and touches you in public. He is the King, after all.

There is still a lot of jealousy and fighting over you between these two, fights that only became bigger after Anne's pregnancy. She wanted you with her all the time and so did Henry. You are the only person who can calm them down, usually sweet words and subtle touches do the trick.

You will be dragged into this never-ending tumultuous marriage, the fights that always turned into making love on the carpet in your rooms at the end of the night would always continue. Would the gifts, power and love you received be enough for you to endure this turbulent relationship with your King and Queen?

You forgot your worries when you were together with your lovers, in the privacy and tranquility of your chambers. Clothes on the floor and heavy breathing. In the end, you would always give in to them. You were as much theirs as they were yours.

#yandere historical characters #yandere history #yandere henry viii #history #yandere henry viii x reader #yandere henry viii headcanons #yandere anne boleyn #yandere anne boleyn x reader #yandere anne boleyn headcanons #henry viii x reader #anne boleyn x reader #henry viii x reader x anne boleyn #yandere henry viii x reader x anne boleyn #yandere headcanons #headcanons #yandere poly #polyamourous #the tudors #yandere the tudors

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lovelybunnyxx · 3 months

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Mistakes ― Illumi Zoldyck

TW: Yandere Illumi Zoldyck, Implied Kidnapping, Implied forced marriage, escape attempt.

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Perhaps taking the 287th Hunter's Exam had been a mistake.

Maybe the mistake was you not being careful enough, deciding to sit next to Gittarackur as you waited for your friends to complete the third stage of the exam, trying to have a friendly conversation with him while he just stared at you blankly. Maybe you should have run when your friends finally arrived instead of waving goodbye at him with a friendly smile on your face.

But then again, maybe it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

Perhaps you were always going to end up here, running barefoot through the freezing forests surrounding the Zoldyck mansion, with only the faint illumination of the moon to guide your path. Your lungs hurt, begging for you to pause to catch your breath, but you know that if you do, your freedom will be stolen from you once again. So, you force yourself to keep going, trying your hardest to ignore just how badly your feet sting from all of the sharp rocks and twigs you have run over in your escape attempt.

You have bid your time well, remaining on your 'best behavior' so that you could earn privileges: being able to leave the bedroom Illumi had you locked in, even earning some 'outside time' in the garden once a day as long as Illumi accompanied you. You have been so well-behaved, in fact, that Illumi informed you this morning that he was going on a mission and would not be back until tomorrow. Finally, a chance of escape, the first one you have had since Illumi stole you from your apartment in the middle of the night. You would have been a fool to let it pass you up.

He had left the servants to watch over you, of course, but it hadn't been too difficult to get some time alone with the excuse that you wished to bathe. The servants had left you alone for a moment to grab you a cloth and towel, and you took the chance to jump out the window and run. It was easier than you expected, almost too easy.

The entire escape, in fact, has been much easier than it should have been. The servants did not ask questions when you requested to bathe in a bathroom on the first floor, the window was left unlocked, and you do not hear signs of anyone chasing after you. Perhaps, if you were not so caught up in trying to escape as quickly as possible, you would have realized that the entire thing felt too easy. Maybe you would have noticed that something was wrong.

But you don't notice. Not until you finally reach the testing gate, so busy trying to figure out how to open it, that you don't realize you're not alone until Illumi grabs your arms. "Oh dear," Illumi sighs, tilting his head absentmindedly. "You tried to run, after all. You have been doing so well, I had hoped you were learning to accept your place as my wife, but it appears I was wrong."

"L-Let me go!" You try your hardest to escape his grip, but his hold is firm like a wall. Your struggling just makes his lips twitch upwards slightly in amusement, and his grip around your arms tighten.

"...I suppose it just means you need more training," Illumi says, pushing some strands of hair behind your ear. "But don't worry, dear. I'm sure that I'll be able to teach you how to be the perfect wife soon enough."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere hxh #hxh x reader #illumi x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere illumi x reader #hxh illumi #illumi zoldyck x reader #yandere hxh x reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months

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Can you do Rook, Malleus and Lillia trying to give period pain relief the old fashioned way

Period Pain Relief~The Old-Fashioned Way | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

They realize that pain is a natural predecessor of the period. Now Twisted Wonderland is not devoid of painkillers and magic meant to sooth your laboring body. But would you know that? No. And the ones dangerously tipping on the edge of their sanity would much rather ease the pain themselves. The old fashioned way:

Lilia Vanrouge

“C’mon love. Let’s do it my way! I’ll make it better I promise.”

While he may not have had a lot of sexual partners he’s already seen so much

Lived for so long

He’s bound to know the perfect spot to rub and the perfect pace to have you reeling

Blood is no obstacle

He’s a former general!

Though your blood is the only kind he’s interested in he doesn’t mind it or eating through it

He’s sure it will help those pesky cramps of yours

No pain killers needed

Or at the very least distract from it

“Is this better my love? To fill your pain with the pleasure I give you? Want to see if it works all throughout the week?”

“L-il-ah~stop talking!”

“Oh yeah! I agree! It’s a great idea! All week let’s not stop!”

He’s focusing on your pain right now and getting rid of it

Whether your together or not soothing you is his goal

And that’s almost enough to get him off on his own

He doesn’t even think about the true and core cause of your period

“Hm a baby…that would be nice. To be a papa again….what would you say about that Mama?”

“Forget it Lilia! This is a one time thing.”

“Sure sure until next month! And the rest of your life.”

Malleus Draconia

“Soothing your pain is a necessity but the root of the problem still remains!”

“I..don’t follow.”

“Your body burdens you because of your empty womb. Naturally the best way to resolve it is to fill it.”

He doesn’t believe in simply plugging the leak he prefers to drain the lake

Aiming to impregnate you once he gets a hold of your cycle’s schedule

Obliterating Your pain aside he’s binding you with him forever

No mirror or pesky pest that takes your attention away can take his place as your child’s father as his wife

The period is a sugarcoated excuse to do it

He’ll take your refusal and delegation as human-fear

Are you worried he won’t fit

That you won’t be prepared

About the future

No worries he’s Malleus Draconia

Your Tsunotarou

He’ll prep you properly, he’ll fund everything, he’ll even put a ring on your finger to make it official

In the end he’s here for you him

“M-Malle~hmm we can’t…it won’t~ah~”

“Shhh hush my child of man! Hng~our child is the true solution to keeping you beside me forever.”

He doesn’t quit care that it will return after the pregnancy but if your smart you’ll know his exact solution

“Then I guess we’ll just have another.”

“What?! I can’t handle that! I can barely handle one!”

“Fear not my treasure! My magic will soothe your pain.”

“You have magic that can do that…?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you use it before!?”

“I wanted a child with you and the period that plagues you would have ceased. This is what you would call a ‘win win situation.’”

Rook Hunt

“Oh mon Dieu! Please my ma beauté ultime! Ma délicatesse magnifique, let me bring you comfort!”

If you relent or are in so much pain you can’t explicitly refuse him he’s giving his aide

Blood is nothing to him

That’s not true

Its everything to him

he delights in the carnal satisfaction he has when his mouth is drenched in it

Like the predator he aspires to be he stalked you, warded off interested parties, and has finally pounced

Free to indulge in your flavor

The forbidden that only comes once a month

“Mmm parfaite!”

“Rook~Don’t talk just~eek”

“Ah I understand! Smeck~ <3 Forgive my neglect.”

Hours upon hours

He’ll happily stay between your legs

Sending a second of a glare before he lets up

You’ll regret interrupting his feast

Studying your biology to know you inside and out

He realizes he could stop your period for 9 months

He plays with the idea

But ultimately decides he has more work to do

Your cage isn’t quite ready yet

“Rook I’m tired and I’m not in pain so can we stop?”

“Non non! This hunter’s got a ways to go before I tire my amour!”

“But I want to sleep!”

“Go ahead! When you awake I’ll be right here with you!”

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 months

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SKZ DRABBLE-Lee Minho

No one says 'no' to a God. That's what you've always been taught. But maybe, no one's just ever really had the chance. or A retelling of Poseidon and Amphitrite, if it were a little bit more modern and a lot more geared toward those of us who are total sluts for enemies to lovers. This one's for you, babe.

Tags: Skz, Stray Kids, Stay, Lee Minho, Minho, SKZ au, skz as greek gods series, lee know, minho x you, minho x reader, greek mythology, modern greek au, skz fluff, skz smut, skz angst, skz fic, skz fanfic, skz x you, skz x reader, femreader, y/n, enemies to lovers, greek gods, Poseidon

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Light Smut

Warnings: Exhibitionism, Spit as Lube, Virginal Sex

Soundtrack:

🌊 Euclid by Sleep Token 🐚 Bad Habits by Nerv

Title: Wave After Wave

"Oh my gods, he's literally the hottest man I've ever seen."

You glance up from gathering wood for the celebratory bonfire at your sister's uttered words, and follow her gaze to the man reclined by the roaring fire next to your father.

You can't quite make out his features from here-they're made wavy and indistinct by the heat of the flames-but you know he's handsome, incredibly so.

Why wouldn't he be? He's one of the fucking Big Three after all.

You say as much, scoffing under your breath with a slight smile in your besotted sister's direction.

"He's one of the major Gods, Thetis. Of course he's going to be incredibly good looking. They've been made to appeal to every single one of the five senses." You hit her ass with one of the sticks you carry, and she gives you a little glare with a pout of her lips. Your voice turns teasing. "You're no better around him than a pitiful human, weak for his charms and falling right into his traps."

She crosses her arms over her ample bosom and pouts some more, even as you shove some of the gathered wood into her waiting arms. "Well, can you blame me? We only ever see sailors here, or the minor gods, if we're lucky. But one of the Big Three?" She huffs, following after you, trying to balance the bundle of sticks as she hurries to catch up. She's slightly out of breath when she says under her breath to you, her eyes flickering back to the man beside your father once more, "And I would argue he's the best looking out of all the Big Three."

You shoot her a sharp look. "Don't let anyone hear you say that, Thetis. Father will have you punished for blasphemy."

"You cannot punish me for saying the truth." She rolls her big blue eyes, lined with long, dark lashes, and flips her blonde braid over her shoulder. Her round cherubic cheeks are pink from exertion, her red lips pursed into a perfect pout.

You'd be shocked if your father didn't do his damndest to secure Thetis the God's hand before he leaves here tonight.

You set your logs down beside the fire and catch your breath, brushing the bark from the front of your finely made dress as you glance at your younger sister once more.

"You'd better go and charm the man then, because I'm fairly certain Glauce has already staked her claim." You motion with your head to your sister, who is practically in the God's lap, her long dark hair twined around her fingers as she leans over to playfully whisper something in his ear, the seashells around her neck dipping between her bare breasts.

Thetis's eyes narrow and she pushes past you with a huff. "We'll see about that."

You watch her go with slight amusement, content to enjoy the games of tonight from afar.

You've never been interested in the Gods like your sisters, nor marriage, and you have every intention of living your life out on Naxos, dancing and remaining free for the eons.

Being tied down as a Big Three's wife, constantly scrutinized and judged, cheated on with mortals?

No fucking thank you.

You adjust one of the ornamental pins in your hair with a sigh, trying to stop it from digging into your scalp, and wish for the thousandth time that you could let your hair down.

The breeze off the sea is calling your name, and you itch to pull off this ornamental gown and untie your hair and dive into its welcoming, azure depths.

You crave the silence the deep brings.

"Daughter."

You turn at the sound of your father's call and see him approaching, his hands tucked behind his back.

You give a brief duck of your head in deference as he walks toward you, a dip of the knee to show your respect.

"Father."

He places a finger beneath your chin, guiding you back to your feet. "Rise, child. I have something I wish to discuss with you."

You wait patiently for him to continue, your gaze holding his. The breeze tugs at your skirt, twisting it around your legs, as if it's a silent invitation to follow it into the embrace of the sea.

Your father's lips lift into the hint of a smile as he strokes his hand down your cheek. "My beautiful eldest, the coveted rare pearl that adorns my crown. I always said you would be a blessing from the Gods, and I was right."

You cock your head, nodding slightly. "Thank you, father. I hope I have made you proud."

"You have, my child. You have." Your father sighs, and his eyes soften slightly as he takes you in. "As have your sisters." He glances out at the sea, his eyes following the rise and fall of the waves for a moment.

Finally, he says, "He has made a decision."

You watch him-the way his brow furrows in thought, the way his dark eyes reflect the blue of the sea-and then you reply back confidently with another duck of your head, "Thetis will make an excellent wife for him and a stunning Goddess of the Seas."

Your father meets your gaze once more, and there's something there now that unsettles you, his lips curving down seriously, his expression somber.

"It is not Thetis who has been chosen."

You stare at him, confused. "Who then? Glauce? Maera?"

You cannot imagine one of your younger vapid, vain sisters ever catching the God's attention, but stranger things have happened.

Something sad flickers across your father's face, and he reaches for your hand.

Your stomach drops at the expression.

"He has chosen you."

You feel as if you've just been barreled by the waves, thrown beneath the surface, crashed helpless over and over again against the sharp, jutting cliffs.

You can't seem to catch your breath.

You're drowning.

"What?"

Your father gives you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Poseidon has chosen you."

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

Minho watches you for a moment before making his presence known, his body hidden in the shadow of the column.

This is one of his favorite versions of you-sitting beside the sea, your feet buried in the sand, your dress wet as it clings to your curves, hair down and free, tangled slightly from the salt water.

He likes to imagine this is how you looked as a child, roaming the beaches of Naxos, causing mischief, dancing barefoot into the night.

Now, you are his queen, and yet, he still sees that untameable girl in you, even till this day.

You laugh out loud and splash salt water back at one of the dolphins as it breaches near the shore, showering you with a wave of the sea, and Minho's mouth curves into an unbidden smile as he steps out from behind the pillar.

He approaches you quietly, content to watch you admire the dolphins as they breach and play, fins the color of smoke cutting through the turquoise water like butter on a warm day.

He'd known, the moment he had the mansion built, that the secret cove beneath that let him have free access to his beloved sand and sea would quickly become his favorite place to spend the time.

As soon as he'd met you, he'd known it would be your favored place of refuge as well.

You were similar in that, escaping to the sea when everything became a little bit too much.

You glance up as he approaches, giving him a smile that almost blinds him, and not for the first time, Minho can't quite believe that something so beautiful, so perfect, belongs to him.

He is much like the sea-turbulent and fickle, intimidating and dark, dangerous when provoked-and you have been the only one in eons of years that has dared swim below his surface to explore the depths beneath.

He finds himself grateful for that every single day.

He sits down in the sand behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you back against him. The salt water on your dress dampens his pants, but he can't bring himself to care, burying his nose in your hair that smells of sea and sand and sun, running his lips along the curve of your neck just to taste the salt on his tongue.

You give a little hum of approval at his touch and lean into him, and Minho chuckles.

Glancing out at the dolphins playing in the waves, Minho's lips pull up into an amused curve.

"And what have you taught your little pets today, sweetheart?"

You lean your head back against his shoulder and he admires the way your nose crinkles as you give him a teasing smile, arching a brow.

He lets a finger trace down your throat, playing with the seashell strands you wear around your neck, his cock immediately paying attention to the way they disappear between the valley of your breasts, your skin sparkling with the sea.

"Oh, you'll love this one." You chirp back, standing up as you wave to get the dolphins attention. You glance over your shoulder at him, grin turning wicked. "I've taught them to flip you off."

You raise your hand, and a few of the dolphins immediately use their tails to propel them above the waves, their sleek bodies upright as they wave their fins in tandem back at you.

Minho chuckles, standing up, his arms going around your waist once more, as he leans in to murmur against your ear, "I don't think your trick is quite as impressive as you think. They lack fingers."

You give a little shrug, and lean back against him, and there it is again, that devastating smile that leaves Minho feeling like he can't breathe, like he's just gone beneath the waves and can't resurface.

"Well, you have to use your imagination a little bit." You whisper back, expression cheeky, as you tilt your head to be able to kiss the line of his jaw.

"Oh?" Minho remarks in bemusement, his brow inching upward as he looks down at you in his arms. He takes a fingertip and traces slowly down the column of your throat, the skin he leaves in his wake shining with conjured droplets of sea water, shimmering in the afternoon sun. "I can think of a lot more things I'd rather use my imagination for right now, sweetheart."

He lets his finger dip between your breasts, and he doesn't miss the way you shiver at his touch.

His lips curve into the start of a smirk.

"Like imagining you out of all these clothes."

You pull out of his arms and turn to face him, walking backward slowly so that your feet disappear into the frothing waves of the sea, your gaze never leaving his.

Something mischievous comes across your features as you stare at him, standing knee deep in the water, your dress like a living creature wrapped around your legs, the dolphins frolicking against the sunset.

"That can be arranged." You tease him, arching a brow, as you slowly slide the dress down one of your shoulders, revealing a swath of perfect skin.

And without another word, Minho leaves the shore behind and joins you in the waves.

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It's clear that though he may have chosen you, he doesn't like you.

Not in the slightest.

The man can't even look at you as you pull up to the mansion bordering the sea, and you're grateful-not for the first time during the drive-that he'd left the Stingray's old fashioned top down so that instead of focusing on the oppressive silence between the two of you, you could hear nothing but the wind whipping in your ears, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

The hum of the car purrs to a stop as he parks in some sort of underground garage cut into the seaside cliffs, and you're not certain whether you should let yourself out or wait for his move.

He doesn't look at you, or seem in a hurry to leave the car, so you remain still, your hands folded in your lap, your eyes ahead.

Fuck, this is awkward.

What does one say to an all powerful God that has just taken them-unwillingly, you might add-from the only home and family they've ever known?

Fuck if you know.

You clear your throat, and decide that if he won't break the silence, you will.

"If I may-" You start to say, startled to a stop when he gets out of the car abruptly, not even bothering to look in your direction as he stands.

"You'll be shown to your room. You'll be expected for dinner every evening at 8 sharp. It's on the veranda overlooking the sea, your maid will show you where. Feel free to go where you will, just don't go alone."

It's like he's talking to the wall, his hand on the open door, his eyes on anything else but you.

You feel the anger from earlier bubble upward into your throat as you regard his obvious disdain.

You reach for your own doorhandle.

"You've brought me all the way from Naxos, and I know no one here. Certainly you're not just going to leave me alone on our first night together-"

"I have work to do." He says coldly, cutting you off, and without another glance, shuts his door, before stalking off toward the stairs that must lead up into the mansion above.

You stare after his retreating form in shock for a moment, before you growl beneath your breath and get out of the car, moving to open the trunk where your luggage is stowed.

"Fine." You hiss beneath your breath. "I'll see myself to my room then."

And in that very moment, you decide you will ask the Great God Poseidon, one of the Big Three, for nothing so long as you both shall live.

It's going to be one long fucking eternity.

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He doesn't like it.

He doesn't like how you make him feel unsettled, as if every inch of control he's ever struggled to gain in his own damned, immortal existence is thrown out the window as soon as you walk into the room.

He's had to claw his way here, to where he is now, in charge of his own life, in charge of his own sea, and he doesn't intend to lose that, not now or not ever, and definitely not because of a pair of fucking beautiful doe eyes.

He'd known it as soon as he saw you-dancing with your sisters on your father's little island-that he was never going to escape your grasp.

You hadn't even looked at him, for gods' sake, hadn't even given him a moment of your attention, and he was instantly bewitched.

And Minho did not bewitch easily.

And now, here you were, in his house, in his domain, soon to be in his bed, and he was absolutely fucking terrified of what that meant.

You were his, and he didn't know if he could fucking handle that.

"Fuck." He swears beneath his breath, running his hands through his hair in an agitated motion, his elbows resting on his knees as he sits, collapsed in the sand.

The night is muggy, the warm air heavy with the saltiness of sea water, and he stares at the dark crests of the waves, rising and falling like a giant being breathing peacefully in slumber.

His fingers find a shell in the sand next to him, and he hurls it into the waves, watching as it disappears beneath the surface in a ring of ripples.

The water is reflecting the stars of the night sky back to him on its surface, and it feels as if he's sitting in the middle of a constellation, but his head is no clearer than when he first left the mansion for the cove beneath.

His mind wanders to you-are you settling in for the night? Your perfect skin sliding between the silk of the sheets as you curl up in the middle of the large bed, alone?

He wonders, briefly, what your hair looks like when it's not ornamentally pinned, what you wear when you sleep, how your face looks crinkled and barely awake in the morning.

He wonders how it would feel to hear you say his name-not his name gifted by the mortals, but his given name-in a murmur against his skin, your perfect breasts free from the sheer material of your dress, your hands, or gods forbid, your lips, on his aching cock-

"Fuck." He swears again, more vehemently this time, and falls back against the cool sand, staring at the jagged rocks overhead.

He can't lose his cool every time he sees you, he's worked too damn hard to get where he's at, and he's a fucking god for hell's sake. He needs to pull it together and stop thinking with his dick.

It's going to be one long fucking eternity.

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"You know-" You remark offhandedly as you glance out over the sea, red from the setting sun. You can smell the salt in the air, courtesy of the Stingray's open top, and the warm air whips your hair as Minho speeds along the deserted oceanside highway.

Minho glances over at you, a slight curve of amusement to his lips, a silent signal for you to go on, as he maneuvers the sports car around a curve.

You let your fingers float outside the open window, weaving along in the breeze like a dolphin skimming and jumping through the waves.

"-I hear skinny dipping is even better at night."

Minho chuckles, the sound low beneath the rush of the wind. "Oh? Who told you that?"

You shrug, biting back a smile, as you admire the way the nail polish glints on your fingers in the rosy tint of the sun, the flash of the pearl on your ring finger.

"A little fish."

Minho gives you another amused look, but it's clearly exasperated, his brow arching. "You're not getting out of this party, you know."

You sigh and let your head fall back against the seat.

"Well fuck."

Minho chuckles again, and reaches over with his free hand to rest the warmth of his palm on your thigh, his other hand easily maneuvering the car through the twists and turns of the road.

He gives your thigh a little squeeze, and you glance down at his hand-the tan, smooth skin, the rise and fall of his knuckles, the perfectly trimmed nails.

Your eyes flick to his other hand on the wheel-the golden glint of his wedding band contrasting the strip of inlaid pearl that matches your own.

Your skin heats underneath his touch, even though the fabric of your dress acts as a barrier.

It's a thin, flimsy barrier at most.

"I promised Hyunjin we'd be there." Minho sighs regretfully, and you know he's dreading this soiree just as much as you are, even more so. "But I swear to you, sweetheart, after this, no more parties for another decade."

You give a little laugh and squeeze his hand. "I'm going to hold you to that, your highness."

Minho smiles, his gaze moving down to your hand resting over his own. His eyes catch on the wedding ring you wear, and he raises your hand to his lips, brushing a light, lingering kiss across your knuckles.

"I know you will."

Your gaze drifts back longingly to the sea, fingers still encased in the warmth of his own.

Minho gives your thigh another squeeze, and when you turn to look at him once more, he gives you a dangerous smirk, perfect teeth flashing and dark eyes glinting.

"However, skinny dipping is never off the table, sweetheart. So trust me when I say I'll be holding you to that too."

You grin back at him.

"I would expect nothing less from the God of the Seas."

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Dinners with Minho are unbearable.

You spend the majority of your time on the veranda watching the waves crest in watercolor beneath the setting sun, the sleek, almost apparition like forms of the dolphins darting in and out of the frothing foam.

He never talks, and you never ask.

It's easier to eat in silence and excuse yourself to your room for the rest of the night while your new husband disappears gods knows where to do gods knows what.

Tonight, the dolphins are especially playful, leaping and chittering to each other, and you find yourself watching them longingly, wishing you could be as free as they seem to be, bound to no one and nothing.

The sound of a fork scraping obnoxiously across a plate draws your attention back to the table, and Minho is watching you, his expression unreadable, fork held loosely in his hand, his empty plate before him.

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down, as you set your own fork down next to your barely touched food.

His features remain blank as he wipes his mouth with the linen of his napkin, the maid scurrying in to quickly clear his empty place.

You've never noticed, but his eyes are dark-dark and stormy like the sea at night-and they're uncharacteristically cold, no warmth lurking in their depths.

"Do you like them?" He asks suddenly, voice flat, almost uninterested, as he waves away another servant approaching with more wine in a decanter.

You stare at him, schooling your expression. "Like what?"

You know you're addressing him casually, you should watch yourself-he's your husband and a god-but you can't seem to bring yourself to care in the face of his aloofness.

He won't give you anything, so you won't give him anything either.

He lets his gaze scan your face, giving nothing away, then motions with a glance toward the sea below.

"The dolphins."

You give a little shrug and glance down at your food, scraping it around your plate. You have no appetite suddenly, not when you can feel Minho's gaze boring into your skull.

"They're beautiful. The freedom and joy they possess intrigues me."

"Then you can have them."

You jerk your gaze back up to his in surprise, your mouth dropping slightly open, but he's already pushed back from the table, no longer looking at you, as he motions for one of the maids to begin to clear the table.

"I have work to do. You may retire when you are ready." His voice is emotionless, and he doesn't spare you another glance, as he turns and strides away.

You watch him go, anger beginning to bubble in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth tastes of bile.

'Then you can have them.'

He thinks he can just give living creatures to another just like that? Like they're property? Like they're his to own? Like they do not already belong to the sea?

Fuck him.

You push back from the table angrily and fling your napkin on the ground.

If he thinks he can give and take that which is not his, was never his, so easily, then you'd like to see him try.

You are not so easily tamed.

And it was time he knew.

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"I've never seen him this happy."

You hide a smile behind the rim of your glass as you take a sip of your drink, following Hera's gaze to Minho where he stands across the room, discussing something with his brothers.

He looks fucking delicious tonight-dressed smartly in a navy three piece suit, his thick, dark hair smoothed back, his sun kissed skin golden beneath the lights.

Maybe these parties aren't a complete waste of time after all.

"What can I say?" You muse as you let your gaze fall back to Hera beside you, a smile gracing your lips now. "I'm good for him."

She gives a little tinkling laugh, raising her glass to meet your own with a gentle clink of cheers.

"I'll drink to that."

You take another long sip of your drink, and when you look up once more, Minho's gaze catches your own from across the room.

You arch a brow in response and mouth silently to him, already knowing the answer, Having fun?

He gives a slight shake of his head with a roll of his eyes, and you grin.

He holds your gaze, and with a miniscule movement, tilts his head to the side, his eyebrows raising in a silent question, as a smirk curves his lips.

You turn to Hera, setting your now empty glass down beside hers on the table, and touching her arm lightly to draw her attention.

"I'm going to use the little goddesses room."

She nods, turning back to her conversation with Aphrodite, and you excuse yourself from the room, noting that Minho's already managed to slip away from his own conversation on the other side of the room.

He's nowhere in sight.

The sounds of the party fade away as you slip out of the gaudy ballroom and make your way down the quiet hallway.

You're just passing the large, glass doors that look outside onto the darkened veranda and sprawling garden, when he finds you, coming out from the shadows and startling you slightly, his hands going on either side of your head as he traps you against the wall.

"Jesus, Min." You breathe out, your muscles relaxing, as you try your best to glare up at him. "Give a girl some warning."

His teeth flash as he grins in response, the expression dangerous, his dark eyes meeting yours in a predatory fashion.

"Where's the fun in that?" He murmurs back, as he lifts a hand to play with a strand of your hair, his fingers brushing over the seashell comb you wear. "I like when your hair is down."

You tilt your head back against the wall and look up at him, a smirk flickering across your lips. "Should've thought of that before you RSVPed us to this stupid party." You tease in a low voice.

Minho lets out a sigh. "Yeah well, I have duties and so do you, but right now-" His eyes darken, his body pressing into yours, flattening you against the wall at your back. "-right now it's just you and I, sweetheart."

"And about a hundred other people just in the other room." You retort back, reaching up to straighten the shell broach pinned to his suit jacket.

"Fuck them." Minho growls, leaning forward to run his nose up your throat, and you tilt your head back to give him better access as he begins to suck kisses into the skin beneath your jaw. "They can miss us for a couple of minutes."

"Speaking of hair-" You breathe out, as he continues to litter your skin methodically with love bites, his teeth making your skin tingle and your breath catch.

You reach up and run your fingers through his dark tresses, loosening the gel and mussing the strands until they fall around his face. You let salt water coat your fingertips, dampening your skin and wetting his hair until it looks as if he's just been for a swim.

"-I like yours best when it's wet."

Minho pulls back to smirk at you, his brow arched, his eyes dark.

"I like you best when you're wet, sweetheart. Especially for me."

You hold his gaze, his words sending fire like heat skittering across every inch of your skin.

"Well, then you're going to love what you find between my thighs."

"Oh?" Minho's smirk grows, his pupils blowing at your words. He leans into your space, pressing you back against the wall once more, his knee going between your legs to nudge them apart. "Show me then."

You hold his gaze, reaching down to lift your dress to give him access. His eyes never leave yours as he leans forward, and slides a hand between your upper thighs.

You let out a stuttered gasp when he touches you, and you can feel the way you instantly coat his fingers, and it crosses your mind that maybe you should be embarrassed at how worked up he's already gotten you without even touching you, but you can't be, not when Minho pulls his fingers back and studies the shiny, sticky skin like it's one of the seven wonders of the mortals' modern world.

"Beautiful." He murmurs beneath his breath, still watching the way your slick slides down his fingers as if entranced.

You admire him for a moment, admiring you, and then your lips curve upward into the start of an amused smile.

"I suppose I do not need to mention the irony of a Sea God being obsessed with fluids?"

Minho's dark eyes flick to you, his fingers still raised. He arches a brow.

"You do not." He replies back pointedly, and then, holding your gaze, bends his middle finger so that he can dip it between his lips, licking it clean of your juices with even, long strokes of his tongue.

You clench your thighs together, suddenly in desperate need of friction as you watch him slowly, methodically clean his fingers, all the while, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Although-" He muses, pinning you beneath his heated gaze, his lips curving up into the hint of a smirk as he sees the flush of your cheeks, the subtle movements of your legs. "-if given the choice, I would choose you over the sea any day."

You shake your head teasingly, as he backs you up a few steps further down the hallway, away from the party in the ballroom, stalking you like a big cat, his movements lithe and fluid.

"That's shocking, coming from you."

"It's true though." He insists in a low tone, before he cages you in once more, his hands coming down forcefully on either side of your head, making you jump. "Every word of it."

Without warning, he slides his hands down your body and palms your ass before he lifts you up, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

You give a little yelp, and cling to him, your arms going around his neck for support.

He looks up at you, his eyes the color of the sea before a storm, and the sudden hungry look on his sharp features makes you shiver.

"Now. Be a good girl, sweetheart, and let me feel how wet you are for me from the inside."

He pushes your skirts aside, and hefts you a little higher into his arms.

You gasp when you realize for the first time as he shifts you, that your back is no longer pressed against the solidarity of the wall, no, your back is pressed against the cold pane of a window-the French doors to the garden.

"Minho." You hiss, struggling in his arms a little bit now. "Someone will see."

"Let them." He growls back, his voice sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine, before he bucks his hips and sheaths himself fully inside of you in one smooth motion.

You cry out, your back arching and your head falling back against the glass, safe to let your body react how it will in the strong embrace of Minho's arms.

"Fuck." You pant out, your hands tangling into his hair, as he continues to thrust in steady strokes.

"Oh gods-" He groans gutturally, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you in place. He looks up at you through dark strands of hair, his lips parted, as if he can't quite catch his breath, as if you're the most beautiful, wonderful thing he's ever seen.

When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, his words punctuated by harsh gasps that match his rhythm.

"Fuck, sweetheart. There's no one, no one-mortal or God-who can instantly make me lose every last shred of control like you can."

You tug on his hair to make him meet your eyes as both of your lips part in pleasure.

"Does that scare you?" You breathe out, your chest rising and falling as you heave for breath.

His lips curve upward into the start of a smile, and his voice takes on a tone of amused honesty that rings through your very being.

"Not anymore."

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It fucking terrifies him.

This thing you possess that makes him lose his mind, his every last thought, his final shreds of dignity and willpower.

But he doesn't know how to control it-or himself-and that scares him. So instead, he's avoided you, and obsessed until his feelings have grown sour, and forced a wedge between you that might never break.

It's easier to deal with you as an enemy from afar than someone who has the power to destroy him right?

It's been eight weeks-two months-of silent dinners, but who's counting?

He glances at you down the table-a table much too big for two people-and notes the way your eyes scan the horizon, looking for the dolphins.

Stupid fucking dolphins.

You've never once looked at him the way you look at those creatures, but then again, has he ever really given you reason to?

He clears his throat, and before he can talk himself out of it, announces, setting aside his fork, "I have work that must be seen to. Enjoy your evening."

He stands, pushing back his chair, and turns to leave, but before he can escape, you say, without turning your head, "Stimulating dinner conversation as always, husband. I so enjoy our time together."

He freezes, and something akin to annoyance bubbles in his chest as he stares at you, refusing to look at him, your eyes fixed on the sea.

"To have a conversation with one another, wife, requires you to engage in one." He replies back coolly, watching you for your next reaction.

He's not disappointed.

You whirl to face him, eyes flashing with anger, hands going into fists on top of the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was unaware you wanted anything to do with me, and I certainly didn't know you wanted to speak with me."

Minho grinds his teeth, and he feels a muscle clench and flicker in his jaw as he regards you.

He shouldn't flame the fire, but he's intrigued by this side of you, this fight, and interacting is interacting, regardless of the tone of the words being said.

"Forgive me, but I am not one of your precious dolphins, so I merely assumed you would find my company boring and droll."

His tone is sharp, goading, seething.

You stand, shoving your chair back so forcefully that it tips over onto the cobblestone, and glare him down with the force of a thousand suns.

If he were not a God, Minho probably would've been dead.

"I hate you."

He feels his lips curve upward into the start of a taunting sneer as he leans over the table toward you, palms flat against the cloth.

"Oh? Do you? Careful there, sweetheart, the line between hate and love is no thicker than the edge of a sharpened dagger."

"Oh, there is no mistaking the feelings I have for you. I hate everything about you." You spit back, words sharp and pointed.

Minho settles back down into his seat casually, crossing his leg over his knee. He sees surprise flicker across your expression, before the fury takes over once more.

He motions for you to go on with a wave of his hand. "Go on then. Tell me all the things you hate about me. I do love a good discussion." He leans forward and makes a show of listening, his chin propped on his fist.

He sees the way it pisses you off, and it makes something inside of him lurch.

Your gaze is hard as you begin.

"I hate your arrogance. I hate the way that you just assume that everyone-mortal and god alike-want to fall at your feet."

Minho watches you, the way your chest heaves with impassioned breaths as you lean forward across the table toward him, the way your hair is falling loose from the carefully curated style he's sure your maids spent hours on that morning.

He prefers it down.

His cock pays attention to the way your breasts fall heavily when you lean, the open neck of the dress you wear gaping open, revealing the necklace of seashells dipping between your cleavage.

Focus.

You narrow your glare in on him, and Minho realizes you've begun speaking once more while he was distracted.

"I hate the fact that you make me come to these goddamn dinners every night, just so you can make me into a fool."

He arches a brow. "Well, I hate the fact that you agree to come to dinner, if you're simply not going to even try to engage in conversation with me."

Your expression grows murderous.

"You have never once shown any interest in speaking to or getting to know me! Not once!" You fire back, eyes flashing. "And that brings me to my next point-I hate that you dragged me here, away from my home, away from my family, just to lock yourself away in your office and not even have the honor or decency to show me even an ounce of kindness!"

Minho feels himself start to grow irritated as your voice rises in volume, and your anger flare.

He clenches his teeth and breathes out slowly, staring you down.

"Honor and decency?" He repeats back, his tone cold, his words firm. "Kindness? When has the world-or the Fates for that matter-ever been kind? I hate that you are so naive that you would think the world would be handed to you like a polished pearl within an oyster. This is not Naxos."

"I hate the way you talk down to me, belittle me, as if I am a sheltered little girl who knows nothing." You retort back, staring him right back down. "I am a goddess of the sea, and now your queen, and you would do well to treat me as such."

He feels his lips twist upward into a humorless smile.

"Oh? Is that so? If you were a queen, you would not be addressing me in such a way, which in turn, proves my point that you indeed know nothing of the world."

"Bullshit." You hiss through clenched teeth. "Your views on life-and marriage-are dated and archaic."

Minho arches a brow. "Interesting. Do tell me more about my own views, sweetheart."

Minho watches the way you clench your hand into a fist, your knuckles whitening.

"I hate when you call me sweetheart."

"And I hate when you're contrary just for the sake of being contrary, sweetheart." Minho retorts right back.

You glare across the table at him.

"I'm not fucking doing this." You finally growl out, before you turn your back on him and head for the winding stairs that lead off the veranda, and down to the hidden cove below.

Minho follows you, his steps right behind yours.

When you reach the beach, you whirl on him, fury written across your features.

Minho stops, but he doesn't back down.

"What else?" He goads, watching you carefully.

You stare at him for a long, hard moment, and then he sees you take in a forceful breath.

"I hate the way you hold a fork. And that you decorated my room in jewel tones and that you've never even once asked me if I prefer my coffee with or without sugar. I hate the way the same exact muscle flickers in your jaw every single time when you're holding in your irritation about something."

Minho smirks. "Oh? Is that all?"

"No." You retort back immediately, holding his amused gaze. "I also hate the way your hair always looks like you've just come in off the sea-tousled and damp. I hate the fact that you wear white button down shirts so casually, and I hate that I've noticed that one of your cheeks dimples slightly when you smile."

Minho stares at you for a moment, caught off guard.

You take the opportunity to barrel on, stepping closer to him, your bare feet digging into the wet sand.

"I hate that I know that you prefer when I wear my hair down, because I've seen the way you look at me when it's not done, and I absolutely fucking hate that I care in the slightest what you think of me."

The sea crashes wave after wave behind you, as if agreeing with your tirade.

Minho stares at you some more, completely unsure of what to say.

"I hate-" You take in a deep, gulping breath, and your expression sobers a little, the fury ebbing slightly. "-more than anything, that you have an effect me, I hate the way my body betrays me when you're around, the way my heart pounds, the way I look for you in a room when I enter, even though I know you won't be there."

Minho swallows.

"I hate the way you say my name-not the name I was given as a goddess, but my name-and the sparks I feel dance across my skin when I hear it on your tongue."

You sigh, and glance down at the sand at your feet, your toes dug beneath.

"But do you want to know what I hate most of all?" You ask, in a quiet voice, as if you're not really asking Minho, more just putting it out into the universe.

So he doesn't answer, just watching you, waiting for you to continue.

The waves crash against the shore, and when you look at him, your eyes have darkened, no longer with anger, but with regret.

"I hate, more than anything, that I can't make myself hate you."

Minho stares, all the words he was preparing dying on his lips, his brain buzzing.

You don't-hate him?

Fuck, maybe, that means-

He doesn't allow himself to finish that thought.

Surging forward, like the impatient sea at high tide, Minho crashes his lips into yours, and you stumble with the surprise force of it, both of you tumbling down into the soft, wet sand.

Minho doesn't stop, pressing you backward into the shore, his lips like fire on your own.

You let out a soft little gasp of surprise against his mouth, but you don't push him away, and he experimentally dips his tongue between the part of your lips.

Your breath audibly hitches, and the sound goes straight to Minho's dick.

Fuck, you're just as responsive as he had imagined you would be.

Carefully, he lets his hand trace down the arch of your neck, the line of your shoulder, and he hesitates for a brief moment of unsurety, before he lets his palm cup the swell of your breast.

You arch your body up into his touch, and open your mouth wider for his tongue, letting out a little whine as he begins to massage your breast.

"Fuck." Minho breathes out against your mouth, pulling back slightly so he can stare down at you splayed beneath him on the sand, your hair loose, your lips raw.

Its the fucking most beautiful sight he's ever seen.

He lets his hand trace down the line of your hip, your thigh, to the material of your skirt, wet now with sea water, sticking to your skin.

He has the sudden crazy urge to slip a hand beneath the material and see just how wet you are for himself.

Instead, he glances up at you, watching him carefully, and murmurs in the form of some start of a question, "Can I-?"

You nod, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, and Minho wants to reach up and free the plump skin from its constraints.

He doesn't, because before he can move, you say softly, "You don't have to be gentle with me. I know what this entails."

He follows the length of your body back upward, until, he's straddling you again, his hands sinking into the wet sand on either side of your head.

He looks down at you and sees your nervousness in the way your forehead crinkles slightly, the way you obstinately suck on your bottom lip.

Fuck, maybe there's a few tiny things he's let himself notice about you too in the weeks he's done his due diligence of avoiding you.

"You've been prepared?" He asks, still watching you carefully.

You nod again. "Yes. Our governesses. They said-"

You hesitate, and Minho feels his heart leap into his throat.

"They said what?"

You glance away, avoiding his gaze, and pink rises in your cheeks.

Minho doesn't think he's ever seen you embarrassed before.

"They said it might hurt." You whisper back, still not looking at him, your eyes focused too intently on the way your fingers, stretched out at your side, dig into the sand in anxious movements.

Minho blows out a breath.

"It might." He admits quietly, and you flick your gaze up to his, and he sees determination still your features. "But, did they also tell you then, that if done right, it can be extremely pleasurable for you?"

You cock your head, holding his gaze. "No. They said that you-"

"Fuck me." Minho immediately shakes his head, even though the words make his already unbearably hard cock ache.

He leans closer to you, his nose brushing yours. He can smell the salt water in your hair, see the way your pupils blow at his nearness.

He watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow, and brings his hand up to your cheek, stroking a fingertip along your jaw, glistening with sea water.

"I want to wring your body of every ounce of pleasure imaginable before I even think about satisfying myself."

Your lips part in surprise at his fervently uttered statement, and Minho smirks, staring down at you-the way your chest has started to heave with your breaths, the way you're squirming slightly beneath him.

Signs of arousal. Arousal for him.

He brings his hand up to his mouth, and holding your gaze, spits into his palm, wetting his fingers slowly, one by one, as you watch.

"You're wet." He remarks offhandedly, and he pointedly gazes down at your dress, the water puddling beneath your hips from the waves lapping at the shore.

You stare back at him and give a little hum of assent in your throat in reagards to his observation. "Mmm."

"Tell me, sweetheart-" He expects you to prickle at the nickname, but you don't, your eyes instead darkening at the way the syllables roll off his tongue. "-are you wet in other places?"

You inhale sharply, and Minho practically groans when your eyes flicker to his.

"Yes."

His lips curve into the start of a smirk. "I thought so."

He slides his hand down your body once more-the one he'd wet moments before-and moving slowly to give you a chance to change your mind, slips his fingers beneath the drenched material of your skirt.

When he touches the wet heat between your upper thighs, you both inhale sharply in tandem.

"Fuck, you weren't kidding." Minho groans, leaning forward on the one hand he still has planted in the sand, as he carefully begins to explore you with a finger at a time. "Wet enough to drown in."

"Minho-" You gasp out, arching your body up into his and putting delicious friction on his cock, as he cautiously works you open. "Fucking gods above. Shit."

Minho's lips curl up into an amused smirk as profanities continue to fall from your lips in an unending, pleasure driven stream.

"You know, for such a pretty little thing, you have an incredibly filthy mouth, sweetheart." He remarks, making you gasp and jolt as he curls a finger experimentally.

He wants to memorize the way you look up at him in this moment, your vision hazed with pleasure, your expression soft.

"I grew up in the presence of sailors." You reply back with a slight shrug, as Minho pauses, taking you in. "Does it bother you?"

He arches a brow, leaning forward to put his lips against your ear, and as he does so, he adds another finger, making you whimper and squirm beneath him.

"On the contrary, sweetheart. I could listen to you sing my praises in profanities for the rest of my immortal life."

"Minho, please-" You beg, your hands tracing up his body, your body writhing in the damp sand.

He stares down at you. "Please what?"

"Please, just give me more."

His lips curve, and his dick throbs at your desperate plea.

He would love nothing more.

"You and I are like the sea, sweetheart. The waves never cease. There is always more to give. And I swear to you, if I have to spend the rest of my eons exploring every single inch of you, I will gladly do so. Over, and over, and over again. Wave, after wave, after wave."

You bite back a smile as you stare up at him.

"I hate that you're so dedicated."

He smirks.

"And I, sweetheart, hate that I ever believed myself capable of staying away from you. I intend to remedy my mistake every single day from here on out."

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

You lean back against Minho's bare chest, admiring the way the sunset plays off of the waves, your mind quiet and your body content against the warmth of the sand.

You feel him press a kiss against the crown of your wet hair, and you glance up at him, arching a brow as you ask softly, "What was that for?"

He glances down at you, amusement in his dark eyes. "I have to have a reason to kiss my wife?"

You give a little shrug and bite back a smile. "No, I guess not."

He angles his head to press a kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment. You can taste the salt on his tongue, the sun warming his mouth.

He tastes like the sea.

He pulls back, and you grin at him. "I just find that you usually have a reason for everything."

Minho rolls his eyes. "I hate that you think I can't just be spontaneous."

"And I hate that you stopped kissing me." You quip back playfully, and he growls, leaning over to kiss you again, wrestling you back into his arms as you giggle and squirm against the sand.

"There. Happy?" He asks when you separate once more.

You glance up at him, and raise a hand, letting sea water coat your fingers as you push back his hair.

"Incredibly."

His expression softens, and he leans in to kiss you once more, hand tangling into your hair to tug you to him.

You'd worn it down. It was his favorite after all.

Out at sea, against the setting sun, a dolphin breaches.

270 notes · View notes

ultralightpoe · 3 months

Text

Tiktok Trouble 3 - Jake Seresin

Authors Note: This had been sitting in my drafts for wayyyyy loo long and now that's it's out I feel terrible.

Word Count: 2742

Warnings: Hints at some steamy stuff but just fun other than that.

My MAIN Masterlist

Part One - - Part Two

(Thank you for the gif @unicornships )

Enjoy!

The first clip posted to his new tiktok account was an accident, one that remained nonetheless.

It starts with the camera swinging back and forth, picking up a conversation being had behind it as whoever was holding the phone swung their hands out to walk. Jakes voice rings out “I’ll have you know-“ before the clip ends and the next starts.

This time the camera is facing them and Jake is staring at the screen with narrowed eyes as Bob Floyd tries to explain it all.

“So I press this button?”

“Yes but it’s already recording.”

“How do you know it’s already recording?”

“Because the ring around the button?”

“What ring?”

“Oh. My. God.” Natasha laughs off camera. “You are so losing to your wife. Can I get her in the divorce? Honest question.”

“There will be no divorce!” Jake announces. “This park war ends in bloodshed.”

“You been watching that Viking show again?” Rooster asks, coming into view with a disappointed look as Jake shrugs.

“……yeah.”

- —-

COMMENTS:

“So pretty and still not a thought between those eyes.”

“I’m on moms side in the divorce.”

“You think he’s top or bottom?”

“bottom fs”

You were in your shared bedroom, reading some book you had gotten today as Jake works around the kitchen, not really knowing what to do with himself on his day off.

Then, like the genius he is, he realizes this would be the perfect time to prank you. So he starts setting up.

First he hides his phone on the glass cabinet, giving it a wink before connecting his iPad to the speaker and hiding the speaker in a cupboard.

He keeps the iPad close, beginning to peel potatoes before he yells loudly “Bubs! Can I get a hand?”

And though you don’t yell back he hears your feet pad along the floors until you hit the stairs and come rushing to him.

“Yeah?” You ask, moving to hug him from behind and kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Can you start prepping the steaks? I got the marinade ready, I just need you to prep em.” He hears you hum and give his back one more kiss before moving to the cupboard to grab the larger plates.

He quickly shoots out and hits play on the video he had pulled up.

The second you open the cupboard door a horrific scream rings out like a demon and you jump back quickly, screaming yourself as you dash to hide beside him.

Unable to help it he cackles, doubling over the counter at your scared face as you slowly piece together what just happened.

“No way.” You gasp.

“Uh huh. Got ya.” He smiles from ear to ear, winking.

“You’re dead Seresin.”

“Right back at ya, Seresin.”

COMMENTS:

“The way she runs to his side has me WEAK!”

“the kiss between his shoulder blades??? SHAHNDJTN

“Aw! Look who learned how to use a phone!”

Your retaliation comes 2 days later, at 3 am in the morning of course.

You had been tossing and turning all night when you got the idea, slipping from the bed to grab your phone and bringing it with you as you shuffle to Jakes side of the bed.

He was out, sleeping like the dead with his face shoved into the pillow and one arm tucked under it to keep it close while his other arm is spread to your side of the bed as if he was reaching for you even in sleep. The muscled expanse of his back is exposed, and the camera gets it all on flash as you lean forward to tap his skin softly and wake him up.

“Bubs. Bubs.” You whisper, sounding panicked which makes him blink groggily. “The laundry bird came and took the goat.”

“What?” He slurs, blinking so slowly you’re sure he’s going back to sleep.

“Bubs come on. The grim reaper broke the washer.”

“Fuck. Why?” He sounds so upset by the washer, even half asleep, you do your best to contain your laugh.

“The ladybugs are meeting and we gotta go greet them.”

“Okay..,.,” he moans, sitting up slightly, swiping at his face like he was actually getting ready to get up. “Okay.”

“We gotta hurry before the balloon hits the ocean floor.”

“Okay.” He sounds more determined now, sitting up. “Let’s go.”

Then, ever the loving wife you switch up quickly. “Why are you up? Go to sleep.”

“W-what?” He blinks, eyes half closed.

“You were sleep talking. Go back to bed.” You mutter, and he blinks before nodding.

“I’m sorry. Come lay with me.”

COMMENTS:

“He was so confused lmao.”

“Mans was fighting for his life in those blinks.”

“The switch up has me dead.”

“Aw. He said sorry to you like it was his fault.”

It was rare that Jake ate McDonald’s, he was raised southern charm style and his mother hated the company. Homemade meals and southern drawls were the way to go.

That being said there were days like today, both of you sweaty and irritated, and the only choice was McDonald’s. You both had been helping your parents move, which was stressful enough before you added the drama all your siblings brought to the table.

And though Jake never wanted to talk crap about your family today he was extremely frustrated with them, mostly how they all seemed to be treating you like dirt and he could see you beginning to crumble which always upset him.

He decided that you both needed a break as your brother began biting about an antique watch your father was trying to sell, claiming it should be his, and somehow someway it became your fault and a huge fight.

So Jake took you out of the house, planning on getting you both food before you got too hangry, only to get more frustrated by the fact that the only non expensive restaurant in the area was McDonalds. And neither of you were dressed, nor had time for the other places.

So you sat in silence while you ate and he could feel the anxiety and anger easing out of both of you, and when you went to the bathroom he figured it was time to lift the mood fully.

He took the lid off your cup, stabbing the straw into the sauce cups lid and shoving it all in your drink before making sure your lid was back to normal.

He filmed the process of course, and when you come back he claims to be checking emails from work as he films you hum softly before taking a big swig of your drink only to gag.

A small laigh breaks out as you laugh yourself, panicking a bit as another gag takes over.

“Don’t puke.” He laughs, and you cover your face before taking your napkin and sliding it along your tongue.

“Absolutely not. What was that?”

“No clue.” He laughs, and you roll your eyes but the smile on your face was ear to ear.

“That was disgusting.”

COMMENTS:

“The way he laughs while she gags out a lung has me cackling!”

“Not the Micky ds drink. Those are god tier.”

“He’s kind of impressing me with the pranks.”

Monday night is spent waiting for him to come home, still cranky with your weekend with your siblings and parents, sore and just not into life in general.

You tried reading through some of the comments on your guys’ videos but those didn’t seem to help, you tried reading but the book you were reading was at a standstill and when you tried to clean the bathroom the bleach made you nauseated.

Truth be told all you wanted was Jake.

But you were his wife, which meant it was your actual job to torture him. And today you decided you would be torturing him.

You hear his truck, filming yourself filling a spoon with salt and dipping it into the soup.

When he comes in you smile. “Come taste this!”

“How about I taste you….” He growls.

“No bubs. I’m making dinner.” You huff, and he smiles before slurping the entire spoon into his mouth.

He tries, he really does, blinking slowly before his face pinches up and he gags. He practically wretches, another gag falling from his lips as he leans over the sink to try and spit it out. Running the faucet and washing his mouth out the best he can. “Oh my god bubs,”

“It was that bad?” You ask, watching him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to gag. I’m sorry bubs. I’m sorry.” He gags again, gulping down more water.

You start laughing then, practically keeling over as he keeps washing his mouth out.

“This…. This was a prank?” He sounds so betrayed that you feel a little bad laughing. “I….”

Then his face breaks into one of pure humor as he wheezes, laughing just as hard and moving closer to you until you are both wheezing in each other's faces. Just pure amusement.

“I can’t br…eathe!” You laugh and he presses his forehead to your shoulder as he holds his ribs.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Just two people wheezing in eachothers faces lmao.”

“I want what they have.”

“Is no one gonna talk about him eating her comment???? Srsly?!”

“Okay, so there is this couple on here right….” You start, staring at him. He keeps casting nervous looks to where your phone is set up to record you both. Like he was waiting for the prank.

“Yeah?”

“And they basically dressed up as eachother for this song. Like he wore her clothes and she wore his and-”

“I’m in.”

“Really? No arguing?”

“No. You’ve got that excited look in your eye and I cannot refuse.” He laughs and you can’t help but clap your hands and jump up to dash upstairs which makes him laugh and snatch the phone.

30 minutes later you both are trying to concentrate on making the video, Jake dressed in one of your dresses and barely managing to walk in the heels.

He is bent over, his hand on his knees as he laughs, the dress groaning at each movement. “I can’t…. Shit-“

You are no better, dressed in his military uniform as you try to keep standing, barely breathing as you laugh. “Who….. who said marriage would be boring?”

“My mother. On our wedding day. When she tried convince us not to get married!” He laughs at the memory, hand shooting out to catch you when you keel over from laughing.

“Okay. Okay let’s do this.” He clears his throat and stands straight. You both film the video and while you post it you begin compiling the behind the scenes which does indeed have a clip of him bending over and the dress completely ripping down the middle.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Great googly moogly.”

“His mom said what?????? Need a story time.”

“How many times did I watch this? Yes.”

- - - - - -

It’s during a shopping day when he gets the idea, after being dragged from store to store over and over again.

It was in the middle of a target when he decides to give you absolute hell, irritated by the fact that you were paying more attention to their lame bedding collections than him.

“Hey…. I’m gonna go…. Look at something.” He mutters, kissing your cheek and walking away as you hum out.

At first he shuffles through the men’s clothing section, getting nervous when a woman in lulu lemons gives him a wink as she shops for what he assumes is her husband. He dashes to the candles after that, sniffing at all of them before texting you “there’s a girl hitting on me in the candle section”.

He takes a screenshot of it for tiktok before setting up his phone to film, waiting patiently.

It takes you less than a minute, out of breath as you swing around the corner with a wild look. “Where?”

“She went that way?” He lies, pointing.

“I'm gonna kill her.” You snap, fixing your hair. “And why are you just standing in the candle section? This is where single men stand to get laid, slut.”

“What, back track-“

“It’s like the most basic rule of target.”

“There are dating rules for TARGET?!” He laughs.

“You really need to get with the program.” You laugh, smacking his butt before waltzing off.

He merely blinks at the camera in pure shock.

- - -

COMMENTS:

“Bahahahaha. I love her.”

“She came ready for a fight.”

“It is the most basic rule.”

“Girl was so stressed she didn’t even bother to smell a candle.”

- - - -

“Hey Jake?” You call, standing in the bathroom as the phone records from the counter a little hidden from sight. You keep your voice on the closer end of panicked.

You hear his phone shut off as he gets off the bed before he comes into sight with worried eyes. “What’s wrong Darlin?” He asks, reaching to rub your forehead in concern.

“I can’t get my tampon.” You mumble.

“Sorry?”

“I can’t get find my tampon.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It’s stuck.”

“Then pull it out.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Darlin’, doesn’t it have that like…. String?”

“It broke off. I need help.” His eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up quickly and his face going red as he blushes.

“O….okay.” He nods, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah? You can help?”

“Anythin’ you need darlin’….” He mumbles, slapping his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah.” He nods. “I….. let’s do this.”

“Okay…. Good because this was a prank.” You laugh which makes him splutter.

“Oh thank Jesus, I was gettin’ panicked there. Not because it would be gross- but like- well I don’t know what the problem would be cause it’s not like we haven’ had period sex hundreds of times but- darlin’-“

“Jake Seresin is not a feminist everyone.” You laugh to the camera as he groans out.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“He would do it. He would kill for her.”

“The way the southern accent comes out when he panics, lmao.”

- - - -

“Hey bubs! C’mere!” Jake calls, unscrewing the panel to the light from his spot on the step stool.

His phone was set up to film him as you come into the room yawning, loudly as you swipe your eyes. “Hey bubs. I just need you to grab-“

He shakes his body, making it look like he got electrocuted as you scream out, rushing forward to grab at his thighs and try to help.

“JAKE!” You scream, trying to pull him down. He starts laughing, hands covering his face as you breathe out.

“Oh. That was so…. Oh my god.”

“Oh bubs, you should have seen your face-“

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” You snap, swiping the tears off your cheeks. “Wake me up from a nap just for that you son of a b-“

“Oh darlin’ no. I’m sorry.” He sighs.

“I hate you!”

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Oh that one hurt me-“

“Someone is not getting laid tonight…. Or any night.”

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“Omg. Where did they go?”

“Did they die? Why haven’t they posted?”

“I misssss them!”

“Mom…. Dad…… where are you?”

“It’s been like 3 months. Come on.”

“She probably killed him after the electric prank.”

- - - -

After 3 months of not posting you both return with a video.

Life had been busy, with both of you moving because of his deployment and you having to find another job in the new space.

But things have settled a bit, now back with his “Top Gun�� crew and the house almost completely unpacked.

You had been visiting his parents, and that’s where the video takes place.

His mom and dad both had headphones over their ears blasting music, and the game is to guess what Jake is saying as you record.

“You.” Jake says, laughing a bit.

“TO!” His dad guesses.

“You.”

“TOO!”

“You.”

“YOU!” He yells and Jake nods.

“Are going.”

“Are going!”

“To be.”

“TOBY!”

“To be.”

“TOGA!”

“To be.”

“TO BE!”

“Grandparents.”

“Gray PARROTS!”

“Grandparents.”

“PIRATES?”

“Parents”

“You are going to be grandparents.”

“You are going to be godparents?”

“Oh Jesus Paul!” His mom snaps, pulling the headphones off quickly with tears in her eyes as she dashes to hug you.

“Oh!” His dad smiles. “OH MY GOD! WERE GOING TO BE GRANDPARENTS!”

When he rushes to hug you both the headphones get caught and he trips up before landing in the group hug.

- - - -

COMMENTS:

“No. Freaking. Way!”

“Ugh.”

“I’m so happy for you guys!”

“Mom and dad fr fr.”

- - - - -

TAGLIST::::::

@the-romanian-is-bae @mshistorylover @boringusername3 @dingochef @quillsandtypos @sunnysidesidra @eddiemunsonreader @sinners-98-world @rhirhikingston @imaginecrushes @80pairsofcrocs @themusingofagothicsoul @mshistorylover @quillsandtypos @mallerz @dtownclown93

@f1oralf1owers @salgachode @fox-bee926 @iamthebeth @anxious-alto @tsnelf7 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @gojos-bizarre-adventure @dreamsofouterspace @xcastawayherosx @chaoticassidy @eugene-emt-roe @iamaslytherin0 @the-romanian-is-bae @lets-turn-and-burn

#jake seresin hangman #jake seresin angst #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun fluff #top gun x reader #top gun cast #top gun smut #top gun movie #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun #hangman top gun

204 notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

The Marksman // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: When Bradley Bradshaw, the most senior chief sniper with the NCIS, is called out to a hostage situation, he comes face to face with his greatest fear in life. His fiancée is on the hostage list.

Warnings: Bradley Bradshaw NCIS au. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Gun violence. Hostage situation. Injuries inflicted on reader due to gun violence. Heavy themes.

Word Count: 8.6k

Author Note: This has been this fanfic’s third rewrite for its third fandom and I will take it with me to every fandom I end up in. This is also not to be confused with my NCIS series. And you don’t have to have seen NCIS to read this. xxx ~ Leah

Bradley Bradshaw or “Rooster” As most of the world knew him better as— (He himself had always prepared the casual nickname over anything else) had a unique skill set.

He simply. Never. Missed.

His ability was unparalleled. He was undoubtedly the most skilled and above all the highest-ranking Marksman in the NCIS - The Naval. Criminal. Investigative. Service. Beside Rooster, there was Jake Seresin. His best friend, his partner. His annoying voice of reason and brother in arms.

Wherever Bradley Bradshaw went Jake Seresin wasn’t far behind. Gone were the days where they’d dick around in pre-flight checks, gone were the days where they’d spend hours pulling G’s and soaring high as jet fuel burned up in the atmosphere. A dynamic duo that served to be more humbling than most, had an incredibly intense and demanding job title.

Bradley though, well he always made time to enjoy the little things in life in and amongst the highly stressful and sometimes dangerous situations he found himself in.

It was something new, something he didn’t really see the point in for a long time. To stop and smell the roses from time to time. Life was seemingly precious and beautiful, although Bradley more than most people knew that in the blink of an eye things could change. That worlds could be turned inside and on their head and shaken to their very foundations.

He’d lost his father at a young age. So young he barely remembered the figment of his father that still remained in his memory—the only faces he could picture now were those he saw in photographs his mother used to have scattered around his childhood home. He kept those photographs and now proudly displayed them above the fireplace in his home, his mother and father had weaved themselves in and out of medallions and awards that over the years Rooster had accumulated.

His mother, Carole, had unexpectedly passed a few years before he joined the Naval Academy, leaving him hollow. Bradley droned on through life on autopilot, just doing what he had to do in order to get where he wanted to go.

But how could Rooster not enjoy the life he’d built for himself, how could he not bask in the glory of the success he’d had in two highly demanding job titles. How could Bradley not love every second of every day that passed him by, how could he not? When he had the most beautiful and intelligent woman by his side. You. Y/n Y/l/n, or soon to be Y/n Y/l/n-Bradshaw. A stunning white gold engagement ring wrapped around your delicately manicured finger most days of the week if not all the days that ended in, well, day. A symbol of love and commitment, a physical reminder of the love Rooster had for you. He wanted you in his life forever. He’d love you forever and a day and you him.

Rooster just adored his soon to be wife, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world to have your perfect self by his side. Every morning before Rooster went to work you would make him a coffee and a slice of avocado toast. It was just a part of your love language—acts of service. Making sure your soon to be husband was always well fed and maintained a balanced diet was just a small step in that process.

You were his backbone, without you? Rooster was pretty sure he’d implode. He’d be stuck with Jake and although he loved him dearly, Rooster had already decided that wasn’t an option he was willing to take.

Life was hard—challenging at times and sometimes Rooster was the taker of that challenging life. That fact could weigh heavily on even the toughest of men. It was something Bradley was plagued with, nightmares riddled his memory, and stole energy from him on taxing days. It made him question almost daily what type of man he was, who he was protecting, why he was the way he was. What was the reason behind the path his life had led? But with you by his side, life could be a little good, life could be just a little great, life could be somewhat perfect for even just a moment......until it wasn’t.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about this particular morning. Rooster groaned as his alarm went off at a crisp 4am, the smell of his fiancée freshly cleaned hair a soothing note in the air around him. Hints of juniper and raspberries danced across the pillows you’d fallen asleep on.

His back stung—marks from last night and nights prior still prominent and deep. Your cat claws had scratched at his muscles when he’d hit deep—hit hard. Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist, his tight hold and bulging muscles held you tight in his grip. The gentle touch of warm flesh was strikingly different to the cool of the morning air that threatened to take you hostage, that threatened to steal you away from the warmth of your soon to be husband and comfortable bed.

“Mornin.” Rooster grumbled into your soft and supple neck. Small and delicate goosebumps soon littered your skin as you smiled softly and moaned in response, snuggling into the covers a little more as Bradley’s hands groped at your breast from under the shirt you’d stolen from him. “Mornin honey.”

“No, not mornin, stay in bed—“ You incoherently mumbled back, eyes still closed. Face pressed heavily into your pillows. “Stay in bed just for five more minutes.” It was a plea that fell on deaf ears as Bradley leaned in to kiss your cheek and shoulder lovingly.

“Can’t.” He chuckled softly. “Gotta have a shower.” Untangling himself from his semi-naked fiancée, Bradley took a second to admire your beauty. Bradley really was in love, oh so in love. He thought he’d never find this kind of love until he met you.

While Rooster showered—revelling in the steam that opened his pores as he sat on the built-in step, you trudged your tired self into the kitchen with fuzzy slippers adorning your feet and began your morning ritual. Two coffees, two pieces of avocado toast and a face mask. Time? 4:15am

Sitting at the dining table with your laptop open, you slowly sipped at your coffee as you began paying the monthly bills. You were always smart with numbers, with maths in general. Specifically financial statements and savings.

As a banker, you were always in your own head dealing with other people’s financial positions. So much so you sometimes disregarded your own health and well-being, you’d only just noticed that the smell of the freshly smashed avocado made you want to vomit as you raised it closer to your mouth. Gagging as you placed it back onto the plate.

It smelt like rotting flesh.

Without thinking too much into it you pressed finalise payments for yours and Rooster ’s monthly bills. Forgetting you hadn’t added the phone bill yet. A pretty substantial payment in all honesty.

“Oh god—“ You held a hand across your mouth as you gagged and rushed over to the sink to spill your guts. Coughing and spewing the content of your stomach which technically wasn’t much being so early in the morning—but that didn’t change the fact you genuinely loved avocados.

As you washed your hands and mouth out— you sighed leaning on the bench. Wiping the evidence of your sudden throw up from the corner of your chin as your soon to be husband rounded the corner, fixing his casual button-down. Hair still wet like an ungroomed labrodour. Mustache perfectly combed as you lost sight of the tufted of chest hair Bradley covered up as he finished doing his shirt up.

“You good mama?” That nickname sent shivers down your spine. A true shock to the system—you and Rooster hadn’t been actively trying. You both wanted to wait until after the wedding. But then again, you hadnt been actively trying to prevent things either.

You stood there biting your lip in a trance-like state for a few seconds. Having an existential crisis as to whether or not you should tell Rooster you just chucked at the smell of avocados, ultimately you opted to keep quiet. You didn’t want to get his hopes up, you knew he wanted to be a father more than anything else in life.

“I’m fine— just a little off this morning? I might actually go back to bed when you leave.” You weren’t lying per se, you really were feeling sick.

“Maybe you should call in sick? Can someone take your shift?” Rooster asked, sipping the coffee you’d ever so nicely made him. Toast in his other hand dropping crumbs all over his shirt as you reached to dust them off for him. “Want my girl always feeling fine.” You couldn’t help but let out a soft scoff at the term of endearment that fell effortlessly from Bradley Bradshaw's lips ever so gently. You had always been and would always be his girl.

“Despite want you want, Bradshaw, sometimes life isn’t always the fairest and we get stuck with unforeseen sickness.” You were smart—always had a comeback that left Rooster speechless with your ability to communicate. “Guess my number was up.”

“You know–” Rooster reached down to place a gentle kiss against your forehead. “I wish I could stay and play nurse with you honey.” Rooster teased as he took a bite of his avocado toast. “But I’m already running late.” Your soon to be husband moved away as he smiled, glancing at the laptop as he did so. “You paid the bills already?” He asked, a frown apparent on his face at the total figure at the bottom of the screen.

“Yeah it’s lower than I thought it wou—“

“Where’s the phone bill, did we already pay it separate this month or--” Rooster quickly glanced over the total amount breakdown. The penny dropped in your head as you felt another bout of sickness threatening to blow.

“Oh shit, I must’ve missed it, here I’ve got time I’ll fix it up now—“ With a mouthful of food Rooster sighed in slight frustration.

“Yeah, that would be great bub.” Bradley finished his coffee in a hurry. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s more of an Inconvenience really—I’m definitely looking forward to that late fee.” Rooster scoffed back a little groan as he picked his jacket up from the coat rack by the front door. “I gotta go, I’m already late—bye beautiful!” Before shutting the door. The sound of his keys rattled through your head as you stood in the kitchen frazzled with what had just happened.

Rooster never left without saying ‘I love you’ Rooster never left without a goodbye kiss. And he just had. Why now? Did he see through your white lie? Did he already know somehow before you did? You hadn’t even taken a test! Was Rooster running away from you? Did he not want a child with you? What happened to wanting to be a father? Did he change his mind all of a sudden? All the possibilities that could have triggered Rooster’s sudden departure rushed through your sensitive head. But all it was was he was running late.

Rooster hit his hands on the steering wheel of his car when he realised what he’d done. He’d blatantly forgotten to tell his soon to be wife he loved you wholeheartedly. Forgot in a flurry to get out the door and off to work to kiss your soft and supple lips goodbye. Rooster swore he’d buy you flowers on his way home. That would make you smile. Surely that would make it up to you. A gentle reminder of how much he loved you.

Because he did love you endlessly—without you? Bradley Bradshaw would be well, nothing.

***~***~***~***~***~

“Dude? You’re fucking late?” Jake mumbled from his desk as he saw the elevator open to reveal his MIA partner. Bradley had given Jake Seresin his callsign way back in their days at the naval academy, before they could tolerate one another. As it turned out the callsign transferred quite seamlessly as they transitioned into a new chapter of their lives. Together and apart.

Jake was always late—especially while his wife was away. No one was around to keep him in check. Hangman always left Rooster hanging. Unintentionally and without malice. He just never got the timing right on traffic.

“You’re never late!”

“Good thing I’m here now huh.” Rooster sassed as he walked past Jake at his desk and dropped to his. Despite being a senior in his own department, Rooster still liked working in the field with Jake. It was their thing. A dynamic duo of utter mayhem and chaos. “What’s in the stack today?” Rooster sighed and kicked his feet up onto his deck. Jake couldn’t help but let out an exaggerated groan as he picked up the three case files and did the same. Mimicking Rooster from across the little hall that separated their decks.

“We got a domestic on the naval base—according to the report her husband came back from deployment and was acting strange, she questioned him, he spazzed out and now she’s filing charges.”

“Fair call.” Rooster responded, nodding in solidarity with Mrs Rogers.

“Then we have a body that turned up in an old naval cemetery. We think it’s something unrelated and that’s just where he ended up so we might turn that over to the FBI.” Jake chucked the files down onto his desk. “And finally I think I found missing Seamen Lang.”

“No fucking way!” Rooster couldn’t help but laugh. Semen lang has been missing for four months. He was meant to be on deployment but on a goodwill shore visit in Indonesia he vanished.

“Yeah, shaking up with his mistress in Mexico of all places.” Jake scoffed. “So he’s being brought back as we speak.”

“Jesus Jake when Spiders away you really do throw yourself into work huh?” Rooster asked almost rhetorically—he already knew the answer.

Annabella Webb, or Annabella Seresin. Jake's beautiful chef of a wife. The most amazing cook according to Jake who lived off ready meals and takeaway while she was on deployment–which was this very second. With her maiden name being Webb— the navy calls all Webb’s by the nickname spider. Get it? Spider Web.

“Anna” Jake emphasised, “Will get nothing but my undivided attention when she gets home.” Jake sighed, rubbing his temples and leaning on his desk. “Bro I miss her so much uugghhh— I can’t believe she’s gone for another four months!”

“You should come around more? I’m sure Y/n wouldn’t mind?” Rooster asked as he watched Jake wipe a soft tear from his eye. Shaking off his emotions.

“I don’t wanna intrude—“

“Jake? Shut the fuck up and get your ass over for a few drinks tonight? I’ll text Y/n when she goes on her break at twelve.”

“You sure?” Jake replied, he was getting pretty lonely on the naval base. Having a home on the confines of the Navy’s barracks.

“I’m positive— look I’m gonna go say morning to Angelo down in the armoury but I’ll be back soon.” Rooster stood up from his desk and tapped Jake on the shoulder on his way past. A teasing smirk plastered on his face.

“I bet your right arms fucking jacked up though?” Rooster laughed as he walked away. Jake swatted at the semi-stable six foot man just a little too late as he walked down the hall.”

“Fuck off Bradshaw.”

***~***~***~***~***~

The first few hours of your shift were as normal and routine as they could possibly have been. Dealing with clients, setting up loans and repayments, laughing with co-workers, you really did love your job. Dealing with numbers and helping people with their financial problems and situations was a passion, it never really felt like just a nine to five to get by.

But there was this one guy. This guy you had noticed probably half an hour prior, sitting in the same spot he’d been sitting in the first time you had seen him. With his bag beside him—he looked all kinds of nervous.

You were just about to go on your break, about to fix yours and Rooster ’s phone bill up. You should’ve walked straight out the door. But you didn’t.

“Are you being served, sir?” You asked politely with a smile. The same smile you’d give Rooster when he kissed your cheek. Almost a second nature tick. “If not, would I be happy to assist you? Sorry about the inconvenience if you’ve been waiting an awful while.”

“No, no one ever listens to me.” He scoffed. It wasn’t a response you were really prepared for.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir? We’re you looking for a consultation or a financial advisor or—“

“I SAID—“ The man got up, startling you as he towered over you—so close you had to back up. The bank stopped as if time stood still. “NO ONE FUCKING LISTENS!!” The man pulled out a gun he’d had concealed from his back pocket as he tangled his fingers into your hair. Pulling you close to him.

“Owww—s-stop oh my god—“ You were panicking, your eyes instantly welled with fear as he threw you down to the ground. You could hear people screaming and running as the disgruntled man fired three direct shots into the roof.

“But they’ll FUCKING LISTEN NOW!!”

***~***~***~***~***~

Jake was still at his desk when he was called to the debriefing room, his initial thought was ‘great, another case’ Not understanding that in a few short minutes his life and the life his best friend had known was about to change. Forever.

“Director Gordon.” Jake greeted the masculine man who looked as if he was about to give a debriefing that was as serious as it gets. Jake walked down the stairs cautiously and stood next to Rooster who was already waiting with Angelo.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Jake asked—crossing his arms across his chest in confusion.

“No idea seems serious though, while I was shooting targets I saw the guys pulling up in the vans. Next thing I knew—“

“Okay ladies,” Director Gordon clapped his hands together as he fixed his microphone, making sure his deep baritone voice could be heard from the front all the way to the back of the amphitheatre-style room. “We have a major situation, unfortunately, unfolding as we speak, so to get out as quickly as possible I need your undivided attention.” Director Gordon sighed. Hands on either side on the podium he stood behind.

“Ex-Navy lieutenant Jonathan Walker has, at 12:05 today, started a hostage like situation in the Bank on the corner of Wilson Road and Downmary Avenue.” Rooster wasn’t a pro at geography, but it didn’t take an expert geographer to know where his fiancée worked—he felt as if his heart stopped beating in his chest and threatened to explode all at once. He forgot how to breathe. Suddenly Rooster heard this high-pitched ringing in his ears as he felt his heart race. Rooster was panicking.

“We can neither confirm or deny at this point in time if his actions are related to his recent dismissal on the basis of physical abuse onboard his last deployment, nor can we say at this moment in time if his actions are directly related to his recent attempt, and rejection, in relation to a job he tried to procure at this very bank. What we can confirm is that the NCIS is actively partaking and in charge of operations to defuse the situation in cooperation with the FBI.” Director Gordon stated. “This is the official media report I’d like you all to memorise in case of media interference.”

Rooster went pale, he stumbled a bit and crashed into Jake's shoulder. His vision had gone blurry with tears that threatened to spill over from his water line.

“Bradshaw, you good? Why do you look as if you’re about to pass out—?” Jake asked quietly and with concern.

“Y/n—she, she works there.” It clicked instantly for Jake—but he didn’t want to worry his partner. Didn’t want him to spiral. Especially not in a debriefing.

“I’m sure she’s fine? 12:05? She’s on break, right? She’s probably out of the building?” Jakes words soothed Rooster for a second. His heartbeat regulated as calm washed over his body. You had to be fine. Fate wouldn’t do that to him. To his darling fiancée. To them. Not after losing his parents. Whatever god was watching over him wouldn’t do this to him again would he?

“We’ll have snipers set up in the surrounding building including senior chief Bradshaw, we request your expert skills on the ground this time around instead of giving orders to your team from headquarters.” Director Gordon explained. “We want men surrounding the entire building— Special agent Bradshaw will lead ground unit A in addition to special agent Homes with ground unit B.” Rooster felt as if he wasn’t in his own body. He was looking in on himself from the outside.

When everybody was dismissed and sent on their way to gear up, Rooster was distant. In his own head, hoping, praying his girl wasn’t, hadn’t been in the building at the time Walker decided to have his breakdown.

“Yo Rooster!” Jake cried out, trying to get his wingman’s attention. “Rooster !” He called again.

“Hmm?” Rooster responded when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Director wants you— said it was of importance.” Jake softened his voice, knowing that the reality of the situation was his what felt like a sister in law quite possibly could be on the list of hostages. Rooster nodded softly as he stepped aside—director Gordon approached the van Rooster and Jake found themselves nearest to.

“Bradley” Gordon sighed. “Your fiancées' name please?” It came out more of an order than anything else.

“Y/n sir, Y/n Y/l/n,” Rooster responded softly, but like a soldier, shakingly.

“I thought so—unfortunately son your fiancée's name has shown up on the list of people being held inside the bank no—“

“Jesus,” Jake swore under his breath even though he had a gut feeling deep down.

“No—no, no no no no she can’t be sir, no I—“ Rooster ’s eyes watered when director Gordon placed his hand on his shoulder trying his best to comfort the man who needed to keep his shit together.

“Bradley, I need you to focus on your job, yeah? You gotta get your girl and me taking you off this case isn’t what will help her now is it?” Gordon raised his brows as Rooster looked to the roof and let out a sigh - stopping himself from crying out in utter heartache. “I will relay any and all information that comes through to you alright? I promise.” Rooster nodded. “We’ll get her back, Bradshaw.” Gordon poked Rooster ’s chest. “You’ll get your girl.”

***~***~***~***~***~

You sat curled up in the corner—shivering from fear. Terrified beyond belief as this man you knew for not even a millisecond of time now held the power to save lives and take them away. A modern-day grim reaper.

“You’ll all be lucky if you leave here alive,” He spat as he trudged through the lobby - scared souls spread out in littered groups. Huddling together in fears of being alone in their final moments. You, however? You were alone. Separated from her co-workers.

“You all know NOTHING of betrayal!!“ Walker hissed as he cocked his rifle. “Pain, Hurt, Sorrow. God, I’ll blow this place to FUCKING smithereens before I ever feel rejection again! DO YOU HEAR ME!” Walker shouted caused you to jump, whimpering in the corner as you cried your eyes out.

“Ohhh— do I scare you, sweetheart, do I? Huh?” Walker laughed as he sauntered over to where you had hidden. Dragging you out into the centre of the lobby by your hair. A frightening moment. Flailing – you screamed and cried in so much fear, consuming your entire being.

“Stop! No—no no no p-please let go!”

“I’m gonna hurt you,” Walker chuckled. “Hurt you so bad, make an example out of you that the fucking higher-ups can’t boss us the fuck around and not feel the consequences.”

“Whatever you’re going through you don’t have to do this— you don’t, don’t have to—“. It didn’t hurt at first, the sound ringing in your ear was honestly the thing that got you the most in the first few seconds. Then came the pain. The excruciating, stinging, wet pain that radiated through your shoulder. You could only assume you’d been shot— in shock you were silent. Your hand came up to cover over the wound that leaked dark oozing blood. Your hand was covered in seconds.

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do or I’ll shoot you right between your fucking eyes— WHOS NEXT!? huh? You!” Walker pointed to one of your co-workers. The barrel of his gun in her face.

“Get me a fucking phone.”

***~***~***~***~***~

Rooster trembled as he walked up the stairs in the Westpack building, adjacent to where his beautiful soon to be wife and 15 of your co-workers were being held hostage. At this moment in time, there had been no reports of hostages injured. The first of many unreported events to happen that day. Rooster was at this moment in time - oblivious to the injury you had been subjected to. If he knew? He’d lose it.

Rooster set himself up, his sniper rifle-armed and loaded, directly facing the bank. Laying on his stomach— Rooster adjusted his earpiece, looking through his magnifier with one eye closed. Manoeuvring his rifle slowly to identify possible hostages, trying to find his beloved fiancée, while also looking for his target.

“Foxtrot in position.” Rooster stated. “Loaded and waiting for further instruction— over.”

“Yeah Roos, it's Jake man, cut the lingo for a second, will you?” Jake groaned from the ground. “Reports have just come in that he’s wearing a dead man’s switch.” Rooster’s heart froze—Walker wearing a bomb meant if Rooster took the shot he’d for sure kill every single person in the building.

“It’s gotta be a bluff” Rooster responded strong. “He wouldn’t be?” He was in total and utter denial.

“Rooster, we can’t take that fucking risk bro stand down!” Jake ordered. Although Rooster was chief in his specific unit—Jake had all eyes and ears on the ground. Rooster himself? Was isolated in the building across the street.

“Director Gordon, do you read?” Rooster sighed as he switched channels from his walkie.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, you have eyes on Walker?” Gordon asked as he watched news reports play on the enormous screen before him. It was a tactic the director didn’t use all too often but referring to Rooster as Lieutenant Bradshaw kept him grounded. Taking him back to when life and death decisions were paper thin. When G forces and jet fuel were his life.

“No sir not yet, however—“

“You are to only observe if the target walks into frame, that man is wearing an explosive device according to his threats and intent.” Rooster wasn’t going to argue then and there on the spot —he’d wait till later. His heart was racing as he searched each available window for any sign of life.

“I need an update Director,” Rooster growled.

“Walker has made demands we can’t possibly fulfil, we have a standoff situation taking place but until we can confirm or deny the presence of an explosive device I ask you to remain in an observatory state marksman Bradshaw .”

Time stood still for Rooster as a soft tear rolled down his cheek, he let out a sigh of pain and despair as Rooster nodded in response. Knowing his silence was a good enough response.

“Yes sir.” He whimpered as his lip quivered. His beautiful fiancée so desperately needed him and all he could do was watch—not knowing your current state. Rooster wouldn’t even come close to knowing for another five painstaking hours.

***~***~***~***~***~

“Rebecca.” You whispered as you leaned your head on her co-workers shoulder. “Becca you gotta get out of here— see the side door behind us?” You asked as Rebecca slowly and shakingly turned—nodding as she saw it was slightly ajar. “I’m gonna distract him and-“ You couldn’t help but cough a little as pain radiated through your bloodied and mangled shoulder as you did so. “And you’re gonna run, tell the police he doesn’t have a bomb, tell them everything he’s done, okay? You have to.” You knew that the police outside would be trying to confirm if there was a threat of a bomb.

“Y/n, you’re injured—“

“I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try.” You slowly pulled a positive pregnancy test from your pocket. You’d taken it in the bathroom before you started work. Zipping it in your skirt pocket to show Rooster later that day. “You have to help me by getting out of here, get as many girls to follow you? Understand?” Rebecca nodded as she softly whimpered. Walker was over on the other side of the lobby making one of the cashiers empty any and all of the tills at the foreign exchange units.

“Go, hurry!” You whisper-shouted as you slowly stood. Rebecca shuffled on her ass across the floor away from you as you whimpered in pain. Walker wasted no time in pointing his gun directly at you as you dropped the test you held in your hand to the ground as you raised her hands above your head. An agonising scream left your throat as your shoulder popped. The sound of your pain was loud enough to cover the sound of Rebecca fleeing through the side door—along with two others.

“I—I need something to stop m-myself f-from bleeding out?” You whimpered as you walked slowly but ultimately closer to the man. You were beyond terrified. Nothing about this made sense, why you? Why these people at this mundane time. Why was any of this happening?

“Get the FUCK back against the wall before— hey wait a minute where?” Oh no you thought. He’d noticed. “Where the FUCK did the rest of those girls go!! YOU SNEAKY LITTLE BITCH” Walker yelled as he pointed his gun and fired a bullet into your thigh only to turn around and fire two direct rounds into the skull of your co-worker John who was emptying the tills.

“AAAHH—!” You screamed as you dropped to the floor—another one of your co-workers Andrea rushed to your side.

“Oh god oh god oh god oh god,” She repeated in panic as she held you in her lap. She knew it was bad— seeing the positive pregnancy test on the ground before Walker picked it up and chucked it at the nearest wall. Andrea was a good person, she put her own life on the line so you wouldn’t be alone in your final moments if the god she so desperately prayed to took another young life too soon. “I’m here Y/n I’m here.”

It would inevitably be Homes who started a chain reaction of misplaced information that fateful day. As Rebecca rounded the corner into the street she ran with her hands above her head and tears streaming down her cheeks. It was a bittersweet moment. On one hand, she was safe, on the other her co-workers, including a just revealed to be pregnant you, were still trapped in a life threatening situation.

“Ma’am,” Homes gasped. “Ma’am you’re safe now I’m—“

“He doesn’t hav-have a bomb, do wh-whatever you need to d-do with that information to get my friends the fuck out of there!” Rebecca cried before she fell into the arms of David Homes.

But Homes never passed the message on, a hostage who had just fled the clutches of a captor had given grade A evidence to an agent she trusted—for some reason or another, Homes didn’t find that message to be of importance. Which meant when Rooster locked eyes on his target from across the street when he had him in his sight. A perfect shot. Rooster was denied his shot.

“DIRECTOR!”

“There has been no threat of life Chief Sargent Bradshaw , STAND DOWN!” Director Gordon hissed. “We don’t have confirmation as to whether or not he is wearing—“

“No threat of life? Sir! He has my fiancée held fucking hostage and you’re going to sit behind a screen and tell ME there’s no threat of life!!?”

“Stand down Bradshaw ! That is an ORDER!!” Rooster hovered—his finger grazed the trigger. You could see the little red dot lighting up Walker’s head. It was him. You knew it. It was your Rooster. You noticed the small naval badges on Walker's backpack a few hours prior. You knew Rooster would be near. A painfully peaceful moment. Comforting.

As time lingered you wounded why Rooster didn’t take his shot. It was perfect. Dead centre in fact—you smiled because he was your marksman. But all of a sudden, the little red dot disappeared. A soft “no” escaped your lips in utter disbelief.

Did Rooster truly not want your baby that much he was willing to allow some crazed guy to take your life. Maybe you were delusional? The same hormones which made you spew your guts up this morning making you think such horrible thoughts. Maybe you were right though? Maybe Rooster wasn’t coming for you? Maybe he didn’t care anymore. He didn’t say he loved you this morning. Didn’t kiss you goodbye. Maybe that was your sign? That nobody was coming to rescue you.

Maybe you’d die alone? Maybe you’d die at the hands of evil. Maybe your number truly had been up.

***~***~***~***~***~

Five hours. Five hours Rooster was told to wait for new information. He was losing his mind not knowing. The thought of never seeing the woman he wanted to marry ever again haunted him. His girl. He’d known you since he was your next-door neighbour. At first? Things didn’t work out—you know, the typical new neighbour who doesn’t exactly get off on the right foot situation. Who seemed to not give a shit? But when Rooster actually started trying, you knew he was your end game. Rooster was adamant since the first time he’d laid eyes on you that he wanted you forever. He’d never felt love like this before. He had one shot at love, and you were it.

Being in the unknown petrified Rooster, for all his training was worth he wanted to throw it all out the window if it meant he could have you back safe in his arms— to see you smile, to hear you laugh, to tell you he loved you endlessly and wholeheartedly because he didn’t this morning. He didn’t tell you he loved you and now he may not ever see you again. How cruel was the world? Rooster was no stranger to death—sometimes he himself played the same grim reaper who threatened you as he laid looking through a magnifier for a target he can’t shoot. Contemplating leaving his post, leaving it all behind to save his girl his way.

“Director Gordon? Sir, I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us on the ground?” Rooster heard Jake talk through his ear piece.

“Well Seresin, after five hours of practically twiddling my thumbs and playing yes sir no sir with a very frustrated Marksman I’ve come to the conclusion something just doesn’t seem right.” The Director huffed. “Where’s Homes and his team?”

“Observing the side section of the building—they’re still working on evacuating the west side of the building in case of an explosion.” Jake replied. The director sighed.

“Follow me, son, I fear I’ve made a great flaw in my judgement entrusting special agent Homes with such a responsibility—man can’t even tie a damn tie.” Jake chuckled slightly at Director Gordon as they walked. The old man still had humour riddled through his sixty five year old bones after all. He was old for his job but in tip-top shape. Not a day over 40 he looked.

Rooster laid listening, his skin crawled with anticipation. Jake might have known he was online or not— but Rooster was glad to be a part of something. He felt so isolated up in his nest.

“Homes! What I’m earth is going on?” Director Gordon screeched when he rounded the corner to see those who looked like former hostages sitting with blankets around them.

“Jesus!” Jake gasped. “Why the fuck would you not radio in!”

“We’ve been evacuating the surrounding buildings in case of an explosion! I couldn’t do two things at once?” It was truly a poor excuse. “You try pulling your thumb out of a day Seresin instead of playing desk jockey.”

“If—if you had listened, I said he—he didn’t have a bomb and If you had wanted to help us you would have listened when I said there are people hurt and dead inside!!” Rebecca hissed—her eyes not trained on anything but the ground. She’d suffer from ongoing PTSD like symptoms for her entire life going onwards. “My friend, Y/n” Rooster’s heart stung at the sound of your name. “She was already bleeding to death when she told me to get out and her efforts to get help have gone unnoticed by your poor knowledge of how to operate a functional team.”

Rooster screamed in pain into his microphone, altering Jake to the fact he was online and on Rooster’s channel.

“Bradshaw knows.” Jake looked at his director as he held his earwig—Jake didn’t ask, he already knew the orders which needed to be given. “Rooster, listen, can you see walker?”

Rooster didn’t answer, his heart hurt, he himself felt as if he was dying. The pain of losing his girl was too much to handle. Jake could hear him crying out for you. It broke his heart to hear.

“Rooster, do you copy? Do you see Walker?” Jake yelled still holding his earpiece into his ear.

“NO!” Rooster yelled back through a croaky voice. “I had him, Hangman, I could have fucking shot him five hours ago! She’s dead, isn’t she? SHE’S GONE!?”

“Rooster you gotta get yourself together and find him and the second you do? Put as many fucking rounds as possible in this son of a bitch, Do you copy senior chief Bradshaw.” Only Jake, his best friend, his partner, his wingman and brother, could pull Rooster from the edge of despair and remind Rooster who he was. He was the love of your life. “She needs you, no do you fucking copy!?”

“I c-copy” Rooster cried as he repositioned himself. Moving his gun slowly in hopes of seeing Walker again. “I copy Hangman—“

***~***~***~***~***~

“Why do people do the things they do agent Seresin?” Rebecca asked Jake as he helped her over to the nearest awaiting ambulance.

“I think people do the things they do out of fear—Walkers scared of the unknown, but it doesn’t make it right.” Jake replied.

“You know Y/n?” Rebecca asked as Jake gestured for her to sit on the stretcher—a medic immediately attending to her split eyebrow.

“She’s my soon to be sister in law actually.” Jake softly smiled, he’d known you for as long as Rooster himself did. Having helped Rooster move into his new apartment and having a conversation with you in the lobby when he dropped a box of his clothes.

“She was your soon-to-be sister-in-law agent Wilson” Rebecca sighed as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Was.”

As Jake walked back towards the bank he could hear his name being called what sounded like a thousand times over, getting closer and closer with every single second.

“Jake! Hey Jake! Hangman—Seresin!!” Rooster shouted as he ran as fast as he could—sweat dripped from his forehead.

“What the fuck Rooster!? What are you—?”

“I couldn’t stay up there for another fucking second knowing she needs me, give me a fucking gun before I lose my god damn mind!” Rooster pleaded. Jake only just then realised just how red and blotchy Rooster’s face truly was. He was a mess. Had been since the moment he heard the name of the location nearly seven hours ago.

Jake saw Director Gordon as Rooster heard him load his own handgun gun. Handing it to Rooster as he turned around.

“Son if you truly wanna play the game you gotta learn how to be clever.” Gordon sighed as Rooster took the gun. “But if you really wanna get your girl you gotta break the rules—your best bet is this side door, it’s still ajar slightly.”

“Rush him?” Jake asked.

“I gotta get her outta there Jake she needs me.” Rooster cocked the gun he’s recently been given. “be on my left.”

***~***~***~***~***~

“This is the NSIS Walker disengage your weapons, or we will shoot to kill!” Rooster yelled as he prepared himself to raid the bank, full-body armour on – Jake too along with twenty other agents, including the FBI. “Walker!!?” Rooster wasn’t a killer, if he could fire a shot to injure and disarm, he would take it 99.9999% of the time. However, this was personal.

You knew your fiancé’s voice – your heart swooned when you heard Bradley Bradshaw’s voice echo through the lobby.

“He’s here.” You smiled to yourself. You felt cold. You were so incredibly tired. Andrea held you close—she was covered in your blood. It was pure carnage within the lobby. It looked like a war zone, dark and filled with death.

“Oh, you only listen now huh?” Walker laughed maniacally. “Too FUCKING late!! You!” Walked hissed as he pointed to you, grabbing you by your hair. It felt too normal at this point.

“Leave her alone!” Andrea cried. “Haven’t you done enou—“ Walker didn’t give her a chance to cry. He knew he was done for - taking as many hostages as possible with him along the way. You cried out as walker's arm wrapped around your throat as your feet slipped along the floor, your body was giving out on life from pure and utter exhaustion. Choking as the cold metal of the end of Walker’s gun pressed harshly against your temple.

“Shoot me! Fucking shoot me I dare you, your bastards! I’ll take her FUCKING with me!!” Walker screamed hysterically. Enough was enough for Rooster as he burst the door open as Jake rushes in. Rooster fired straight past him—over Jake's shoulder.

Roosters had a unique skill set. He never missed. His ability was unparalleled. A clean shot directly between the eyes of the name who hurt his girl so badly. Turns out Walker was never good at counting his rounds.

As Rooster rushed towards you, you couldn’t stand another second, falling to your knees.

“Brad—“ You whispered as he slid on his knees and held you so tight Rooster thought you were going to pop. Crying aloud in nothing but heartbreak seeing his beautiful fiancée in so much pain. So hurt.

“I love you.” It was the first thing that came to mind when Rooster cupped your cheeks. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Rooster moved your hair from your face—the same face usually so full of happiness and love, cold to the touch and smeared with blood. Your lips were tinted a blue like colour. “I love you so much Y/n do you hear me? I love you, okay you gotta stay with me alright? You can do that for me, you won’t honey?” Rooster sobbed as tears ran down your cheek. Your eyes closed as you fell completely limp in your soon to be husband’s arms.

Rooster came for you. Your marksman. He loved you.

All your questions were answered as you slipped away— Rooster’s gut-wrenching pleas for you to stay were the last thing you heard.

“Don’t you do this to me baby don’t you fucking leave me here!! No—-!”

***~***~***~***~***~

It was like time stood still for Rooster as he rode in the ambulances alongside his girl. Jake had booked it to the nearest car he could find with sirens blasting as he followed.

You were a fighter, you still had your whole life ahead of you. You weren’t going so easily– you’d miss Rooster too much. You were fighting hard to stay on earth and live your life to the fullest. So was your darling baby.

“Rooster?” Jake whispered, trying not to startle Bradley too much. “She’s gonna be alright.”

“She died in my arms Jake, don’t give me falsified hope.” Rooster was tired, he was drained from all emotion and energy. He’s lost you, his girl, holding your white gold engagement ring between his fingers. The ambulance officer had asked him to remove your jewellery. Caked in blood it looked more like copper than white gold.

To say they rushed you into emergency surgery straight away was an understatement. Rooster had no chance to ask if he could say goodbye.

Unbeknownst to Rooster as he sat waiting covered in blood with Jake in the waiting room, you needed a lot of blood transfusions, you needed the bullets removed, and roughly one hundred and fifty stitches, a combination of internal dissolvable and external stitches. The bullet from your shoulder managed to hit at just the right angle—causing minimal damage. The team of doctors who worked around the clock to save your life popped it back in.

The bullet in your thigh missed your artery by 3mm, it took doctors and nurses about twenty minutes to pull the bullet out due to the fact they didn't want to graze it against your femur. It’s a routine check for pregnancy in women which made it extremely complicated and even more of a high-risk surgery and highly complicated when your heart started to fail.

Practising CPR wasn't an option when it came to saving your life due to your shoulder wound, in between doctors stitching you up and connecting you to life support there were nurses using a defibrillator on you just trying to keep your failing heart into a rhythm again. Soon enough though? After a slight panic thinking they might actually lose you? they got you stable, stitched up—doctors took the calm to ramp up the blood transfusions. Pumping you with much needed red blood cells your body so desperately craved.

As your heart steadied towards the end of surgery —doctors were able to eliminate the use of life support. A paediatric nurse stepping in to review your file to check the baby's health once you found yourself out of surgery.

Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, Jake sat on the ground next to Rooster. On a particularly busy night, both boys got up to let a pregnant woman sit down. Rooster went completely numb seeing her, feeling like he was never going to get that life with his beautiful girl—his darling fiancée.

“Mr Bradshaw? Would you like to follow me please?” A lady cooed, both Rooster and Jake following her into a private room.

“How’s my fiancée?” Rooster asked softly, drained from waiting.

“There were complications during surgery from the blood loss, they put her on life support to finish up the stitches, a little tricky, but both of them are fightin strong.” she smiled.

Both Rooster and Jake went into shock, staring at her back as she walked out like she'd grown another head before turning to look at each other still just as confused.

“D-did... did she just say both?' Rooster stuttered.

“I think so.” Jake replied in the same confused, dazed and exhausted tone.

“But that means... no I’m sure I heard her wrong.” Rooster mumbled- the nurse returned again to say you were stable and would be out of surgery soon, Rooster was overcome with relief- deep down he knew you wouldn’t leave him in this cruel world alone - too relieved Rooster honestly forget to ask about her 'both' comment until a different nurse walked in - her scrubs were pink with tiny white flowers scattered across the fabric, unlike the plain blue scrubs of everyone else Rooster had seen that night.

“Hi. Bradley Bradshaw is it?' She asked the two of them, Rooster nodding his head frantically in response.

“Uh, Rooster.” The nurse only smiled in response. “Just Roosters fine.”

“I'm sure you've had a very long day, just thought I'd pop in to let you know your fiancée is going to be out of surgery in about ten minutes, and then she'll be in ICU recovery, we expect you'll be able to go in to be with her in about an hour or two after that, after three or four hours she'll be moved into here in the ICU ward, and I’ll be popping in a few times a day for check-ups until she's discharged from the hospital, and then she'll need to come in once or twice a week for probably one or two months, sound good?” The nurse in pink scrubs rambled on about the important update—but all Rooster could think about was her scrubs, and how he'd seen a nurse going to help the pregnant woman from the waiting area wearing the same ones.

“C-can I ask you why your scrubs aren’t blue?' Rooster asked, his heart racing with anticipation. He couldn’t be? Could he? You couldn’t be? Could you?

“Part of being a paediatric nurse, it’s meant to be a little less clinical for the kids, and for parents.” The nurse smiled brightly in response. It was clear she enjoyed her job position as she walked out of the room.

Within a millisecond though? Rooster once again broke down full-on sobbing, joy, sadness, happiness. Pride, excitement, anger, hurt, all the emotions of the rainbow flooding his exhausted and overwhelmed body because his girl, his beautiful darling fiancée who needed him so much was being held together by a thread in surgery, not only fighting for yourself but your baby too.

***~***~***~***~***~

From the moment Rooster was allowed to be by your bedside, he didn’t leave for a second. He couldn’t take his eyes off your stomach, watching it rise and fall with every breath you took. The only other time he looked away was to check your face– watching your eyelids flutter as you slept. You deserved to rest.

Rooster held your hand tight, afraid if he let go it would all be a dream—slipping your cleaned engaged ring back on your finger, being ever so careful not to move your arm as your shoulder was still tender. Stitched and patched.

“You and I are gonna have a series talk about when you should be taking your lunch breaks bub—“ Rooster joked to himself trying to find a little humour in such a morbid and dark situation. “But dammit Y/n I thought I lost you, god I feel like I’ve been to hell and back today but to see you safe I’d do it again, so just please come back to me.” Rooster whispered. He was talking to himself more than anything.

But you twitched softly—your eyes slowly opening as you tried to say a groggy “hi”

“Hi, my beautiful girl, I’m right here, don’t move too much, okay you’ll be in a lot of pain.” Rooster cooed - watching your eyes land on your flowers by your bedside. Rooster promised he’d buy you flowers.

“Am I alive?” You asked softly, confused as to your whereabouts as Rooster cried softly as he squeezed your hand.

“You sure are honey—I got you, I got him, he won’t ever hurt you again— won’t hurt you both ever again.”

“My marksman huh? You never seem to miss.” You couldn’t help but tease as you left out a soft groan. Your shoulder throbbed as you went to rest your hand above Rooster’s, his hand resting gently on top of your stomach.

“Yeah, clearly mama, I never miss my target.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine

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he4rtsforjoao · 5 months

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PART WAYS ꕥ João Felix

Warnings: bunch of angst?

Description: João thinks it’s best to stay away from each other.

Pairings: João Felix x F!Reader

Author note: I’m back😝 send in those requestssssss

『••✎••』

From the very beginning, both you and João were fully aware of the ramifications that came with being in a relationship. João's frequent travels to play matches out of town and your demanding job as an actress made it nearly impossible for you to be there for him during his games. As much as you longed to support him wholeheartedly, the reality was that you had to prioritize your filming commitments, even if it meant sacrificing being by João's side. There were moments where João would plead you to give up your acting career entirely, after seeing all his teammates girlfriends/wife’s be there to support them. Yet, deep down, you knew that you couldn't yield to his requests. You had invested countless years of hard work and dedication to reach the position you were in, and surrendering it all over a single demand was simply inconceivable.

You were currently on the set of a new popular series where you played the lead role. You were aware that João had an important game scheduled today, but due to the numerous retakes you had to endure, you could hardly find a moment to sneak away and catch a glimpse of the game or even send him a text to inquire about his progress. When you finally wrapped up on set around 1 am the first thing you did was check your phone, you were surprised to find zero messages from João, especially since you had sent one earlier at 3 pm before the game had even begun. You reached out to your contact and persistently dialed his number until he answered on the final ring. "Hello?" His tired voice pierced through the phone "Hey, how did the game go today? I wasn't able to catch much of it." He hummed, pausing briefly before responding, "Yeah, it was alright. We managed to secure a victory, 1-0." A smile showed up on your face.

"That's good news, isn't it? Why do you sound so down?" You inquire, noticing the lackluster tone in his voice. "I'm not sure, y/n. I've been contemplating some things," he responds, causing anxiety to surge within you as you enter your car and lock the doors. "About what?" You probe, flipping on the engine but remaining stationary, not daring to drive until you uncover the specifics of his concerns. He pauses once more, exhaling a heavy sigh into the phone, "I'm uncertain. Something in our relationship has been weighing me. I just don't see us progressing any further. You're stuck in your acting career, that even when I'm home, we barely see each other before you leave to go film. As for me, constantly jetting around the globe, you can't even join me for a game." You braced yourself, knowing this conversation was unlikely to conclude on a positive note.

“I know João, but you also have to know I do try my best to support you, even if my career seem to always stand in the way. And I know you have always told me countless of times to just quit cause I have you to help me, but what you don’t seem to comprehend is the part where im not at that point where I want to let my career go already“ your palms began to sweat, as you become increasingly anxious

“see y/n this is what I’m talking about. You don’t seem to try to put effort into this and it kills me. That’s why I just think it’s better we end this relationship for the best of us. Right now it isn’t a perfecting timing and we need to let that sink in..” he pauses for a moment “I have to go bye” before you could even share your thoughts on all of this, he abruptly ends the call, leaving you stunned by the rapidity of it all.

#joao felix angst #joao felix smut #joao felix fluff #joao felix x reader #joao felix #fluff #smut #angst #football imagines #soccer player x reader #world cup imagines #football x reader #joão felix imagines

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andromeda-nova-writing · 4 months

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My Favorite Actor Is…

Fem!Reader

Summary: Infatuation over a film star. It’s a very common thing to have happen. There’s not much to be done over it besides talking about said infatuation over that actor. And if there is jealousy to be had at least handle it as healthy as possible.

Words: 975

AN: I wrote almost all of this on my phone as I was dealing with the holidays when it was written. Just when I thought I would have time to myself to edit the fic and make sure things made sense, I got a new puppy. So it was either edit the fic and be unsure if things made sense or get help. Thanks @milkstore. You are the best. Puppies are tiring but very cute.

“Ayaka had me and Thoma go with her to see a film earlier today,” Y/N explained as she poured herself and Ayato a cup of tea. The two of them were still warming up after coming back to the estate from Inazuma City. The winter air had been so chilly with flurries landing on them but not sticking to the ground.

“Did the three of you enjoy yourselves?” He took a towel trying to dry off his hair. Even though it was flurries, being out there long enough meant that two of them were a little soaked. They had hurried in quickly changing into something dry leaving just hair affected by the snow.

“Yes. It was quite exciting. But I did have one gripe with it.” Ayato could hear the disappointment in her voice changing so fast from the happy one she had started the conversation with.

“What would that be?” He left the towel wrapped around his shoulders to avoid his hair dripping. Ayato grabbed the teacup and took a sip embracing the warmth it brought him.

“There was a new actor in the film. He had the most gorgeous eyes but only had a few lines of dialog.” Y/N rolled her eyes before she frowned. “It was an absolute waste of perfect talent. And to make matters worse, that's the only film he's in.”

Ayato remained silent before letting out a single word in judgment, “Oh.” Now he wasn't one to let jealousy affect him. That was a silly emotion filled with insecurities that he didn't have. But to say he wasn't the slightest bit affected by her words was a lie. One that he would tell because who was he to dump feelings he should process on his own onto his lover.

Any understanding of his emotions was ignored. “Ayaka had told me he even turned down a role that would have given him more screen time. It’s such a crime really. What I would give to see him on screen for those two hours rather than just two minutes.” He could practically see the hearts in her eyes.

Ayato didn’t think there would come a day where he’d be annoyed even if it was just slightly by the look she had in her eyes. There wasn’t anything to feel threatened by though. If she had to stand by his side while someone tried to openly flirt with him while he and Y/N were holding hands, he could at the least let her fantasize about someone she would never meet.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and he will get cast in another movie.” He did his best to remain engaged in the conversation. When he looked down at his cup filled with the most gorgeous green tea he hated the reflection that looked back.

“I wish. Sadly he’s too busy with other projects to even think about acting.” Ayato enjoyed the small victory he had gained even though Y/N was upset at the fact she was telling him. Who knew her love of the arts would betray him?

“Well just be glad that he was able to appear in this film.” He comforted her. Maybe the lack of rest was getting to him if such a disgusting emotion as jealousy was trying to make an appearance.

“I am. I do wish I could at least meet the actor and tell him how well his performance was. Thoma said you’d be able to make that happen.” Y/N had placed an empty teacup on the table. He hadn’t even noticed that she was drinking it this entire time.

All Ayato knew was Thoma who he thought was filled with so much loyalty had betrayed him unknowingly earlier. Now he had to compete for his wife’s attention with some mystery actor that he would do his best to never let her meet. “If they are busy it might be easier to get an autograph.” He hoped that Ayaka would be okay with him using her as a way to talk through these emotions later.

“Really? But even Ayaka agreed that he would find the time to talk.” Y/N spoke with a frown that hid the smirk she really had. Not that Ayato could notice at the moment.

How do you ground your adult younger sister and man who grew up almost like a second sibling to him? “That’s not guaranteed dear. It’s a bit of wishful thinking. Ayaka and Thoma don’t even know the man. Who even is this actor anyway?” His composure was finally beginning to break. He wasn’t proud of it.

Y/N laughed. “I didn’t even tell you the movie we saw. I’m sorry. The movie was The Two Musketeers.” It wasn’t often that Ayato felt embarrassed. “The actor was a man named Kamisato Ayato. You sure I won’t be able to meet him?”

It was at moments like this that he was reminded why he and Y/N had wed. It was also moments like this that reminded him one of the reasons they wed was that they both enjoyed a bit of mischief and teasing each other now and then. It was something that lately he had been catching her off guard with. And here he was getting a taste of his own medicine at the moment.

“Y/N.”

“Yes.” She answered with a laugh.

“I would prefer if you would try to not make me jealous of myself.” Ayato requested with a sigh.

“You know I was wondering when you would catch on.”

“It’s been a long day. A long week.” He explained. She could see the tiredness on his face.

“Why don’t we get my favorite actor to bed then instead of trying to hold a conversation about the day?”

“That would be smart.”

#kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #ayato x reader

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farity · 1 year

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To tread lightly

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond learns that his betrothed is a gentle soul

Warning: Smut

“The Mowbrays may not be a large house, but their lands are in the perfect strategic spot in Westeros and they are far richer than just about any other family, including the Lannisters.”

Aemond looked at his grandsire, his expression showing the same disinterest he had felt throughout the entire meeting.

“It is an advantageous match, and she is said to be lovely.”

“Loveliness is wasted on me, grandfather, as long as she is malleable, quiet, and fertile, she will do.”

Otto studied his grandson. There was a fire in him, a fire that did not exist in Aegon and had not yet bloomed in Daeron. He often thought it might render Aemond into a pile of ashes if unleashed, but tempered with intelligence, it might make this grandson a great Hand of the King for his brother someday.

“Very well, I shall proceed with the negotiations.”

* * * * *

You were sure you could guide a ship into harbor with all the jewels on your gown. If you turned back and forth, a ship’s captain would see the rays of light firing from every single stone and go safely home.

“It also meant the floor length dress was incredibly heavy, and that did not include the elaborate headdress or the train that had yet to be attached. “Is this really necessary?” you asked your mother. “They’ve already agreed to the betrothal.”

"Stand up straight, darling,” Your mother walked around you. “Remember you are well educated, highly accomplished, and come from two old families that can trace their lineage for centuries. Just because we are a small House does not take away from our family history. You are a Mowbray, be proud of it.”

She added a jewel encrusted bracelet to one of your wrists. “And, unlike many of these so called noble daughters, you have remained pure.”

Oh yes, that had been stipulated in the negotiations. A Septa sent by the Targaryens had personally confirmed it. Your mother had held you the whole time, two servants holding a large cloth of gold to cover you from the hips up to the roof of your canopied bed as you laid, legs spread, on the bed. The Septa had inserted two slim fingers inside you and then removed them and that had been that.

What about your bridegroom? He might have bedded half the land and it wouldn’t have mattered, but you, of course, had to be untouched and intact. One of your cousins had been repudiated even though she insisted she had not lain with anyone, and all she could come up with was that she was a devoted horse rider, but all the same, she was banished to a small village so her shame would not be spread to her family.

“Try not to look so disdainful, darling,” your mother said, “whatever else they are, the Targaryens are in power.”

* * * * *

“Your Highness, I am so glad to finally meet you.”

Aemond watched the girl drop into a curtsy, her gown sparkling with every movement. She was pretty, he supposed, and looked agreeable enough. He extended his hand and she placed one small hand upon it before rising, a sweet smile on her face.

“You are most welcome here, my lady.”

If she expected him to kiss her hand or her cheek, or for him to say he was happy to meet her, she did not seem disappointed when he did none of those things. Maybe she had been well trained and would not be an annoyingly clingy wife. At least he hoped so. He led her to her chair at the banquet table, watched her charm everyone throughout dinner, and after the meal, stood when his mother suggested he take his betrothed for a walk around the gardens.

She looked up at him, that sweet smile back on her face, and followed him down the many corridors.

“Are the gardens this way?” she asked, as they went into darker and darker hallways.

Aemond, walking in front of her, said nothing.

* * * * *

By the Maiden, could he be more disinterested in you?

You followed him as best you could, the heavy gown and new slippers making you a little clumsy. He continued in front of you, his longer legs covering more distance than yours, and you really, really wanted to tell him to stop and let you catch up.

You turned a corner and found yourself pressed against the wall, but instead of a stolen kiss or some attempt at groping you, he planted his hands on either side of your head and looked at you.

“I am told you are learned, so I hope you will not have to be told more than once,” he began. “You are my betrothed, and as of this moment you belong to me.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he continued.

“Your loyalty is to me, your every effort will be in my favor and dictated by me,” he leaned in until his nose was almost touching yours. “I will not tolerate any treachery, lies, or betrayals by you, and should you attempt to defy me, I will-”

“Stop!”

You covered your face, unable to take any more.

“Please,” you added, letting your hands slide down. His eye bore fiercely into you. “Why are you speaking to me like this?”

“I merely want you to know how things will be in our marriage.”

“Oh, is it a marriage now,” you felt anger rising inside you, “it sounds like I am to be your prisoner, unable to say a word or form a thought unless approved by you.”

“That would be ideal,” he snapped.

You moved to slip under his arm but he was quicker, keeping you against the wall.

“Why me, then?”

“Your family is the richest in the land.”

You turned away, anger and resentment coursing through you.

“I was not finished.”

You did not move, still looking away.

“Other than your moon blood, I will accept no excuse for you to not be in my bed. Once with child, you will follow every instruction you are given and take no risks, and after the birth, the maester will decide when you can take me again.”

You felt his lips brush across your temple. “During formal events, I expect you to behave in a way that honors the throne and the family, otherwise you will be confined to your rooms.”

There were hot tears beginning to sting at your eyes and you did everything in your power to keep them from spilling.

“Compose yourself,” he said, “we are heading back now.”

* * * * *

Aemond saw the effort it took for her to keep smiling through the rest of the evening. She did not glance at him again, instead chatting with both his mother and her own. Soon enough, she pleaded being tired and headed to her rooms along with her mother. He stood as she passed, and took her hand to kiss it. Her eyes looked somewhere past his shoulder and her smile was strained.

It was better this way. She should know what was expected of her. He had been betrayed and ignored by enough people in his life and would not allow his wife to do the same. Her life with him would be peaceful enough, he was not a cruel man. He would look out for her, make sure she had everything she needed, and protect her as best he could. In exchange he expected her loyalty and a behavior that honored the crown and the family. If she was expecting flowery declarations and a husband so besotted he praised her at every turn, it was better that she was set right.

He would have a marriage that brought no further insult to his life, a wife that behaved with decorum, and a family that might, finally, fill the void that lurked inside him. He caught his mother’s questioning gaze and a pang of guilt hit him.

* * * * *

“Darling, many things are said in the beginning of a marriage that have no bearing on the coming years.”

You were sobbing uncontrollably, wanting nothing more than to go home, away from the horrible man you’d been betrothed to.

“Mother please,” you managed between sniffles. “I do not want this. I will suffocate with all these rules and the way he talks to me.”

“Child,” your mother said soothingly. “Let’s look at what he actually said. We all know he has this stern façade because of what happened to him, but let’s take that away for a moment.”

“I don’t want to.”

You heard an exasperated sigh from your mother. “Dearest one, he has warned you not to betray him, which is understandable, and has told you he wants children and to behave properly. It is truly not all that awful.”

“He did not have to say it that way, mother.” You wiped your nose with the handkerchief she had given you. “So coldly, so brusquely.”

“He does not know you, my dove.”

“So what? One does not speak to one’s future spouse in such a manner.”

"We are marrying you to a man close to the throne, you will be part of the most powerful family in the realm, you must be stronger and not let petty disputes slip under your skin.”

She placed a quick kiss on your forehead before leaving and you decided you would not let your earlier interaction sour your disposition. You had been well informed on what would take place during the consummation, you were prepared and would be pleasant and dutiful. Maybe he would grow to like you, you thought.

* * * * *

He watched her walk toward him on her mother’s arm. It was unusual but Lady Mowbray had said she was merely substituting for her late husband and would brook no opposition.

His betrothed was pale but composed, her smile sweet, and when he kissed her after saying the words, he felt her fingers tighten on his shoulders.

“Are you very tired?”

She turned to look at him, now in the candlelight of their bedchamber, and shook her head. “Not really.” She studied him for a moment, then asked, “would you like for me to brush your hair?”

Aemond had not expected this, and was silent for a moment. Had she not realized that in order to brush his hair he would need to remove his eye patch? He began walking toward her, deciding that he might as well show her what she had been wed to. Maybe she would never again offer to brush his hair.

Better to find out now.

He pulled off the eye patch in one smooth motion. “If you like, wife, I should very much enjoy having you brush my hair.”

To her credit, she did not wince or recoil upon seeing the sapphire in his eye socket. He sat by the fire and waited for her, wondering if she would suddenly say she was too tired.

“Does your, uh, eye stone need to be removed?”

He turned, noticing how the fire backlit her form, making the nightgown she wore all but invisible. Her hips were shapely and her waist slim and suddenly he didn’t care about his damn hair or his damn anything, but he turned back to let her begin her work. “Every few days, and the maester deals with it.”

She gently pulled off the hair tie he also wore, holding the hair close to his scalp so she wouldn’t tug on it. Her touch was delicate but sure, and then he wanted her hands on his skin. When she ran the brush down the length of his hair, he could have moaned, it felt so good. Ridiculously good.

She continued brushing, her bare feet making no sound on the floor as she went around him. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, make her put her hands on him, kiss her mouth without an audience this time and take his time making her his.

“I am sorry.”

The brushing stopped and he felt her nervousness as if it had weight. He turned and saw her standing with the brush in her hands.

“I spoke to you much too harshly yesterday. I pray you can look past my transgression.”

The sweet smile reappeared. “There is no need for this, husband. We have all been overwrought from all this wedding business.”

He felt his own mouth curve in response. She thought he had been nervous? Him, the most feared man at court. She was walking back to him to continue and he couldn’t wait any longer, he simply reached out and pulled her to him. He felt her sharp inhale of breath and she tossed the brush onto the other chair before linking her arms around his neck.

Her lips were a new delicacy, and he took his time tasting her, delighting in the way she shivered in his arms. She was making eager little noises, wriggling against him and he knew he had to get her on the bed before he took her on the floor in front of the fire.

Slipping one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, he rose and walked to his bed. He sat on the edge, still kissing her as he undid the laces on the front of her nightgown. Once undone the garment fell open, revealing the inner curves of her breasts. Mesmerized, Aemond moved her to the bed, slipping the gown off of her. He saw the instinct to cover herself, the way her arms twitched to cross in front of her breasts and then she looked up at him.

“The Mother has given me a beautiful wife.”

She swallowed as he began to remove his own clothes, her eyes never leaving his.

* * * * *

Your new husband was very fine, indeed.

He was tall and slim but all the training he did had given power to his lean, muscled frame. You saw the way his hair moved across his shoulder as he discarded his trousers, and wondered how his skin would feel under your fingertips.

He kneed your legs apart, settling his weight between them. You knew what was to happen, but it was one thing to be told about it and another to be experiencing it.

“Are you alright?”

His voice was soft, kind, and it soothed your nerves. “Yes, I didn’t know I would enjoy the kissing so much.”

He smiled down at you and bent down to kiss you again. This time you remembered what he had done a minute ago and touched the tip of your tongue to his lips. He tasted like the spices used to mull the wine, even though you hadn’t seen him drink more than a sip or two. He let you explore his mouth, his hand gentle on your hair.

You felt his hand stroking your thigh, his touch leaving a path of warmth on your skin. “Do you enjoy me touching you?”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you nodded. Maybe if you touched him you would feel less nervous. You ran your hands across his broad shoulders and down his arms, then tucked one lock of hair behind his ear and caressed his scarred cheek.

“Are you repulsed?”

“By a scar?” you asked, incredulously.

“And a missing eye. I will put the eyepatch back on if it offends you.”

You shook your head, and pulled him down to kiss the ruined skin. “It does not offend me. Or repulse me,” you murmured softly, hoping he believed you. Your hands continued exploring, now running up the planes of his back. It was a strange thing, to discover another human being like this, something as mundane as skin revealing so much by the responses to your touch.

He was clearly indulging you, giving you time before he took you, and for that you reached up again, pressing your mouth against his. Soon you felt his hand between your legs and were reminded of the Septa. But whereas that was simply a process taken to confirm your status, this was completely different. His fingers moved lightly over a spot the Septa had not touched, and you shivered, the sensation making you want more.

He kept rubbing the same spot over and over, and you felt a whimper escape you. It was becoming too much, and at the same time you did not want him to stop. “Give yourself to me, sweet wife,” he said. When you began rocking your hips, he murmured his approval, and you felt something happening, something that was taking over your every sense, and still he did not stop. You buried your face in his neck and cried out as pleasure and fire unfurled inside of you.

* * * * *

He felt her go completely still at that moment, her body frozen as she came. She was clinging to him, one leg curled over his hip, arms wound tight around him, and he began driving inside her. She gasped, pleasure and pain mixing as he tore through her maidenhead, but he felt the rhythmic grasp of her inner muscles as pain quickly faded.

She let her head fall back on the bed, her skin flushed, and he kissed her as he claimed her, his need for her barely tempered by the knowledge that he was her first, her only, and he needed to go slowly. He felt her hand on his cheek, the gentle caress of her fingertips and turned to kiss her palm.

Mine, he thought, my own sweet wife.

The feel of her beneath him was intoxicating. That she was his, that out of all the possibilities he had ended up with her as his wife, and that she had seen past his despicable behavior . . . Aemond knew he did not deserve her. He did not deserve a woman who went willingly to his bed and placed her trust in him. He lost himself in her arms, the touch of her lips on his face, and accepted whatever mistake the gods had made in giving her to him as a blessing.

* * * * *

Alicent knew the moment her new daughter-in-law had returned from the market. Not because she saw the young woman herself, but because she saw Aemond look up and then his shoulders relaxed, his face lost its usual stern expression, and books and maps were abandoned as he went to meet his wife.

She saw her younger son place a chaste kiss on his wife’s lips, then he took the basket from her hands while she showed him whatever she had purchased. He looked back at one moment, thanking the two guards who had accompanied her and then let her maid take the basket.

She watched the two young people walk away, the young woman at one point leaning her head against his shoulder, and his instinctive move to kiss the top of her head. And she smiled to herself when they were late for dinner.

* * * * *

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george-weasleys-girl · 1 month

Text

Second Chance Soulmate Pt.2

Season of Love Event

Start here:

Summary: George debates the wisdom of getting into another relationship

Warnings: a few curse words

~•~

"When are you planning to ask her out?" Fred asked, rummaging through a mountain of paperwork.

"What??" George snapped up from his own pile. "Who??"

"Y/N," his twin rolled his eyes. "The bookshop girl."

"What makes you think I want to ask her out?"

"Oh, I dunno," Fred answered with an absent-minded air. "Could be because you're over there every chance you get... "

"Mira loves the place," George interrupted. "She'd probably live there if I let her."

"Perfect! Mira already likes her. So, that's one hurdle you don't have to worry about."

"I. Said." George reiterated, enunciating each syllable. "THE. PLACE. Not the owner."

"Don't give me that crap," Fred huffed. You know as well as I do, Mira talks about her all the time. I'm surprised she hasn't talked your remaining ear off." Fred argued.

George leveled his eyes at his twin. "Just get to the point."

"Oh, I am, Georgie boy," Fred grinned. "You're avoiding reality. That's the point."

"Oh?" His brother leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And what reality would that be?"

"That Mira likes Y/N. A lot. And so do you."

George's shoulder sagged, and he heaved a heavy sigh. "So what if I do? I've already fucked up one relationship. I'm not about to give a repeat performance."

Fred scoffed. "As I recall, you weren't the only one in that marriage. It takes two to tango, you know."

"Doesn't mean I wasn't a bad dancer," George mumbled and bowed his head back over his paperwork, completely ignoring his twins exaggerated sighs and eyerolls.

~•~

One month after the divorce

"I don't know what to do," Carlee sighed. "I've tried everything, but nothing works."

George looked down at his daughter, who lay curled up on his lap. "She eats fine when she's here," he glanced up at his ex-wife, then back down to Mira. "Why won't you eat for mummy?"

Mira shook her head and buried her face in his chest.

"Can she stay with you?" Carlee blurted out. "Just for a while... until she's eating properly again."

George didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Of course. She can stay as long as she likes."

Mira looked up and beamed at her dad.

~•~

"As long as she likes" turned out to be two years, and counting with Mira spending every other weekend with her mom, though it was supposed to be the other way around. That's what they'd agreed upon in the divorce. George thought it'd be best. A child should be with their mother. That's what everyone says anyway.

But Mira had other ideas.

He knew it hurt Carlee that Mira chose him over her. And, honestly, he was never really sure why. Whenever he asked her about it, Mira would only say, "You're my favorite. But don't tell mummy." It was a phrase that put him on cloud nine every time he thought about it. And he wasn't going to question it, lest his daughter think too hard on the matter and change her mind.

~•~

Present day

George sighed and poured himself a hefty shot of whiskey, wishing his daughter was here right now. Of all the days for Fred to zero in on his brother's sad single status, he had to pick today. Though, knowing his twin, the timing was probably strategically planned. George had just dropped Mira off at her mother's for the weekend, a long weekend, no less. Carlee was taking her to visit family, and they wouldn't return until Tuesday.

"Damn it, Fred," he muttered. "You knew exactly what you were doing today, didn't you?"

~•~

After downing the first shot, George poured himself another and headed upstairs. Kneeling next to his bed, he pulled out the box that held a few mementos from his marriage, including a photo album. He hadn't thought about it in months. But, tonight, with his twin's words haunting his mind, the past came rushing back. He took a heavy swig of whiskey and cracked it open.

Except for a few photos with only her and Mira, Carlee had left behind all their pictures. "I have what I want," she'd told him. "I don't care what you do with the rest."

For the first few months, he couldn't bear to look at them. But as time went on, it became easier, and eventually, George began the long process of sorting through them, saving his favorites in this photo album. The rest he burned in a fiery Unbonding ritual.

George's fingers traced over their smiling faces. It was all there, his and Carlee's time together. From beginning to end.

Their very first picture as a couple, taken in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Standing in front of the joke shop on the day of the grand opening.

Sitting with Fred as he recovered in the hospital after the war.

Dancing at their wedding.

Making funny faces on their honeymoon.

Both of them smiling, misty-eyed as they held Mira for the first time.

And so many other moments in between.

George sighed and took another swig. Once upon a time, they were happy and so very much in love. Then, bit by bit, over the years, it all crumbled into dust.

He turned the final page and smiled wistfully at the last picture. It was taken on their last vacation as a family. He and Carlee stood on the beach, smiling, standing side by side, their arms around each other's waist as Carlee held a giggly and squirmy Mira. They looked like the perfect little family.

A little over a year later, his world fell apart.

~•~

"You should burn every photo that doesn't have Mira in it," Fred had argued the night before the burning ritual. "Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll never truly let Carlee go."

George, of course, ignored his twin's suggestion, reasoning that he should at least keep some for Mira. Carlee was still her mother, after all. He shook his head and chuckled at the memory, then closed the album and slipped it back in its box under the bed. Fred was annoyingly right about a lot of things. But that was not one of them.

He did let go of Carlee. And though it had been a long, painful process, George's heart no longer ached for her. He no longer dreamed of a reunion. Even now, looking at those pictures, he didn't miss his ex-wife, so much as he missed having a partner.

Y/N suddenly flooded his thoughts, and he couldn't hold back the smile that spread across his face. Everything about that woman sent him flying over the moon. The way she always lit up whenever he and Mira came into the store. The way her hand would brush his when she showed them the newest books. The way she would always make a point to stop and chat with him whenever they saw each other on the street.

And her laughter.

He knew all her laughs. From her delighted giggles when reading to Mira, to her unrestrained belly-laughs when he told her one of his stupid jokes, to the occasional snort that sent an adorable bright pink blush blossoming across her cheeks.

Dear Merlin, he could so easily fall head-over-heels in love with her.

If he wasn't already...

George's heart clenched painfully, and his knees wobbled beneath him. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. How could his stupid heart go off and fall in love without him noticing? He wasn't ready. Not yet. What if he and Y/N got together and it didn't work out? No one needed to tell him that love doesn't always last forever. He'd experienced it firsthand.

Even so, he was tired of being alone and lonely. Mira helped. Of course she did. But she could never fill the gaping hole in his heart that yearned for the love of a partner. Despite what he told himself, George so desperately to be happy and in love again. And he had no doubt that he and Y/N would be happy together.

But for how long?

That was the question.

Two years? Five years? Ten? Twenty? His parents' neighbors, once regarded as "perfect for each other," recently divorced after 21 years and three kids.

George collapsed back onto the bed, suddenly bone-weary and soul-sick. The future terrified him. Too many possibilities. Too many what-ifs. It damn near destroyed him when he and Carlee split. Another heartbreak like that might end him once and for all.

~•~

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 1 year

Note

Hiii can you write a part 2 for this? Maybe like he snaps out of it and realized what happened. And he remembers what reader siad and just angst

Darkness

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, mentions of ripped out hearts. Red door Elijah.

Author’s Note: Hey! Look! I'm finally posting something! There's been so many things happening and I'm just glad something is being posted. I'm slowly but surely working on the Make It Angsty Celebration requests. They're coming along with other things as well. I promise. Please note that you NEED to read Demons Within to understand what is going on with this fic. Thank you so much Anon for this request and thank you for participating in the Make it Angsty Celebration.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Demons Within || TVDU Masterlist

If there was one thing Elijah learned during his existence it was that magic could have a vice grip upon its target depending on the spell. Hexs sucked the light and life out of the person they were put upon. Immortality had its consequences that proved time and time again that even an original vampire could be bested with the simplest of spells.

Many forms of magic had been witnessed through the centuries. And while Elijah had his fair share of receiving spells, there was nothing in comparison to the witchcraft his mother had put upon him. Forcing Elijah to completely experience the darkness that laid and waited just beyond the red door locked within his mind.

Since he had awoken, the moments of darkness would come unexpectedly. The monster that lay dormant for so long was eager to play. To sink his teeth into the beauty that surrounded him. To destroy the glimpses of perfect moments that hid who he truly was. A creature that enjoyed the hunt as a sport and the blood that was tasted was the prize.

Elijah had been able to keep his darker self at bay many times. Even with his mother’s spell intact, there was always a way to come out of it before he had done something he regretted. One thing was always for certain, his family had remained protected at all times. At least that was until the darkness consumed him.

The simplest of conversations had triggered the monster within. He and Y/N had been talking about the safety of their family. A plan being put into motion to stop Esther once and for all. But the dormant monster’s interest had been piqued by the blood Elijah’s wife had been cleaning off of her shirt, blood from the last person she pulled a heart from. The clean up triggered the monster that she shouldn’t be hiding who she really was.

The more Y/N spoke to Elijah about her plan, her eyes had been on the towel in her hand as she wiped the last of the blood off. She had missed the way Elijah was beginning to lose his hold on the present. She had missed the way the darkness was so eager to consume him. And when she finally noticed it, it had been too late.

The last thing Elijah had remembered was the way Y/N slowly reached her hand up to his face. His name left her lips softly as she attempted to call him back to her. The same maneuver she had done several times to keep him there with her. But this time it didn't work. It wasn’t long before Elijah had completely lost control of himself.

Screams filled his ears even in the darkness. The part of Elijah that fought for control could only listen to the destruction that his body was creating. The cries for help may have brought pleasure to the monster currently at play, but to Elijah, he couldn’t even bring himself to begin to think about the damage.

‘Lijah. It’s me. You know me. You’ve known me for centuries.

The familiarity of the voice that played through his ears should have helped. The very voice that had brought him peace was there trying to break through to him. The voice that had been embedded in his mind for centuries. During his times of being daggered it was that voice that helped him through the darkness. Yet at this very moment, he couldn’t grasp onto the hope that the voice held.

You know me, Elijah. I can show you.

The voice was breathless. As if the person speaking was having trouble breathing. And in the darkness that surrounded Elijah, he knew he should be worried. He knew that what was happening wasn’t good. That every fiber of his being should have been fighting to stop what was happening, but nothing he did to gain control worked.

The darkness kept him under. Held him down while he was forced to listen to the sounds that entered through his ears. Even his brain refused to let in the familiarity of the voice that he was currently listening to. The magic within him taunting him.

You should have taken Esther's offer.

I-it’s okay. The sweet voice played through his ears once more. The words cracked slightly and it caused an ache to fill Elijah. One that the monster didn’t or would ever understand. I’m not scared. I promise. It’s n-not your fault if you do this. It’s going to be okay. Just know that I love you.

NO!

It was the first thought that Elijah had been able to force out of the abyss. The one and only thought that begged and pleaded his body not to do this. To not do anything to the voice that had brought him comfort in the darkness. No matter how hard Elijah tried to pull himself out of the darkness, nothing worked. Nothing he tried to keep the voice safe worked.

It wasn’t until the satisfaction of subduing a threat washed over him that he knew he failed. The ache that he felt moments before had lingered, if not grew more with each passing moment. The silence had proved he had lost the comfort of that voice.

Elijah?

The echo of his name registered in his mind some time later. How much time had passed, he was unsure. He had no idea how long he had been held under in the darkness. But he knew that was his name. He knew the familiarity of that voice. He just had to push himself out.

“What happened Elijah?” His sister’s voice. He knew that. He knew Rebekah’s voice. He could hear the panic in her words as he pulled himself closer to the surface.

“It’s Esther’s spell.” Klaus’s voice filled his ears. “I’ve seen this look on him before.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Rebekah asked. Elijah could only assume that Rebekah had been asking Klaus. But the question had brought Elijah closer to the surface than he had been in hours.

“Y/N.” Her name came out as a whisper but it was enough for him to gain the necessary control over his body once more.

He blinked his eyes a few times before the darkness that held onto him so tightly finally let go. The blurred edges of his vision finally clearing and allowed him to focus on his siblings. Klaus had been standing to his left and Rebekah to his right. Both of them had the same worried expressions displayed on their faces.

“Are you and Y/N okay?” Rebekah’s voice was soft. She was trying to keep her voice calm. If Klaus was sure this was the spell, she didn’t need her older brother being triggered once more.

Confusion filled Elijah at her question. He and Y/N had been fine moments ago. They simply had been discussing what steps to take to help get rid of Esther. What could possibly have happened in the last few minutes that would have caused his siblings to worry as they were?

That was when he caught sight of his blood drenched sleeve. It rested on the arm rest of the chair in the courtyard. He had no memory of ever sitting in that chair let alone how the blood had gotten on him. Dried blood covered his arm and was even caked on his fingers.

The more Elijah had a grip on reality, the more he noticed the smallest of details about himself. Besides the blood that lingered on his sleeve and hand, his face felt dry. No doubt from the blood that currently covered his lips and chin. While his suit may have been dark, a shade of crimson had taken front and center. The white button up ruined by a victim he was unaware of.

“What happened?” Rebekah asked once more.

Elijah shook his head. “I have no idea.”

As he moved to stand, his siblings allowed him the space he needed to do so. Elijah took in his surroundings, looking for any clarification as to what happened. His eyes moved from one place to another, trying to piece the last thing he remembered.

The rest of the courtyard had been left untouched. There was no evidence that there was an altercation of some kind. There were no bodies lingering on the floor somewhere. There was no scent of fresh blood filling his nose to indicate the death he caused had been there.

“Where’s Y/N?” Elijah asked, looking towards his siblings. “She may be able to explain what I cannot.”

Elijah knew that this had been his mother’s doing. He had known that there was something that had caused his mind to blank. But he had no idea how long he had been under or what had caused it. Everything deep within him was telling him something horrible had happened.

“She’s not here.” Klaus noted. “When we arrived, it had just been you.”

“I tried calling her phone.” Rebekah added. “But she left it here. I know she wouldn’t leave you while you were fighting this.” A flash of a memory passed through Elijah’s mind at her words.

“Stay with me.” Y/N’s said as she brought her thumbs up to Elijah’s cheeks. Her thumbs moved over the veins that were forming underneath his eyes. “Elijah.”

Elijah had been fighting it off. He was trying his hardest to stay there with her. To fight the darkness that wanted to consume him. He watched as her hands moved down to his neck in a comforting touch. But the only thing the darkness registered was a threat.

His hand quickly grabbed a hold of her arm and twisted it. As he had done so, a sickening crack played through the air and Y/N cried out in pain before she pulled herself free. He watched as she took a few steps away from him.

In return, Elijah took several steps towards her. The only thing registering in his brain was to get rid of the threat that stood in front of him. Y/N’s eyes filled with fear for the briefest of moments before she turned and ran with him following right behind her.

A gasp left Elijah’s lips as the memory left his mind. The details left him shaking his head in disbelief. He wouldn’t do that to her. Never in his wildest dreams would he ever hurt his wife like that.

“What is it?” Rebekah asked, watching her brother’s face change with his emotions.

“I hurt her.” His voice carried his disbelief and he hadn’t missed the look of shock on his siblings as the words settled within him. He shook his head once more trying to get things straight. “I broke her arm before she ran. She couldn’t get through to me."

An indescribable feeling began to form within Elijah. It was a feeling Elijah had never felt before. It was almost a deep satisfaction mixed in with grief that he knew he shouldn’t be experiencing. Yet it was there in the pit of his chest.

“She got away.” Rebekah was hopeful. “She managed to get away and she’s waiting until you came back to your senses to come home.”

I-it’s okay. I’m not scared. I promise.

The ache in his chest grew as he shook his head. The voice that rang within his ears was part of a memory that he couldn’t force himself out of. He could only hear her voice but not see what happened to her.

“I need to find my wife.” He said before turning and began leaving. Klaus and Rebekah were right on his heels in hopes to find Y/N and to find her completely fine.

It wasn’t long before the Mikaelsons had found themselves in the woods just outside of town. The familiarity of the area alerting Elijah that he had been there earlier that day. Klaus and Rebekah watched their brother as he tried to piece his memory together. Their mother’s spell was doing a number on him in the worst possible way.

The further they ventured into the woods, Klaus tried his best to be hopeful. But he was slowly picking up on how things had gone. Klaus knew what it was like to thrive with the darker sides of vampirism unlike his brother. As thrilling as the kill was, the hunt had been part of the fun.

If Elijah’s darker side had been hunting, Klaus knew there was only so far that Y/N could run before she found herself within his grasp. His sister in law may have been a vampire for centuries and stronger than most, she wasn’t an original. Even she could be killed easily if he or any of his siblings got a hold of her.

The sound of a twig snapping right under Elijah’s foot had snapped another memory through his mind.

With every step Y/N took as she ran, Elijah hadn’t been far from her. He could see the way she ran through the woods. Every fiber of the monster within him enjoying the hunt. But even while a hunter could find the hunt exciting, eventually there needed to be a time where the hunted needed to be caught.

He watched as Y/N steered towards her right before he moved himself to lead her to turn in a different direction. The game plan to keep moving her in the direction he wanted her. Her attempts at running from him would soon be pointless and he’d have her right where he wanted her.

He watched as she occasionally brushed by the branches close to her. Some of them broke while others bent to the force of her passing. He slowed his steps a bit, knowing it would give the moment of peace before he’d pounce.

That was until the slightest tug of a smirk played at his lips the moment he heard voices close by.

The soft late afternoon breeze picked up, allowing the scent of blood to fill the air. It alerted all of them to the strong scent that had been close by. It caused them to turn their attention in the direction of the wind.

“Blood.” Rebekah said out loud. Even though they knew what the scent was before the clarification, it needed to be heard to make sure they were all on the same page.

“Not her’s.” Elijah noted as he looked back towards the direction he had been going moments before. “Two hikers if it is needed to be known. They never saw it coming.”

Klaus looked down at the ground before looking towards his sister. A silent look shared between the two of them. One meant that this may not have the outcome they were hoping for. While Klaus wasn’t by any means hoping for Y/N’s death, that was all his mind settled on. If the bodies in the distance were any indication his brother had been pulled deep into the darkness that there was no telling what he could have done.

All it took was for Elijah to take a few more steps further into the woods before dread completely filled him. His chest became tight as the ache filled him. His heart knew well before his brain had registered the dark memories that were kept at bay. And with one more step his world had come to a complete stop.

Not too far in front of where he currently stood, his eyes fell to the base of a tree. Just peeking from behind it laid a hand, resting. One that currently rested palm down with the sun catching the ring that took residence on the fourth finger. A ring he had spent months perfecting the band the stone that Y/N loved sat in.

“No.” Elijah’s head shook as he took another step toward the hand. And with every step he took, his mind took the opportunity to torment him with the memories that he couldn't grasp onto until now.

Y/N had been looking just past the tree she had been hiding behind. Her attempts at being still to try and locate him had been pointless. The moment she had stopped, Elijah had her. The brief moments he had with hikers didn’t stop him keeping Y/N exactly where he wanted her.

Her moment of distraction allowed for his opening. Elijah grabbed a hold of her arm and spun her around to face him, pinning her to the tree. Her startled yelp filled his ears and the monster within him had chuckled.

He could see the way her eyes had been taking him in. No doubt taking in the creature that was reveling in death it was causing. He could see the way her eyes held worry for what was happening to him. But the creature within him could see the spark of fear that played within them as well.

“‘Lijah.” He watched as she shook her head slightly. “It’s me. You know me. You’ve known me for centuries.”

From the moment Elijah noticed Y/N’s hand, there was hope that she was okay. While he may not have known what happened to her, he had hoped that she was only knocked out. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her too much and that he would send a lot of time trying to make up for what he may have done to hurt her. But once he reached her, he fell to his knees in front of her.

Her skin had been ashen gray. The dark colored veins that covered her body had been every indication that she wasn’t going to wake up. Y/N hadn’t been like him or his siblings. There wasn’t the possibility of waking up from an attempt at her life. And if that hadn’t been proof enough, her heart laid close by.

Tears filled Elijah’s eyes as he reached for her. His hand gently ran along her cheek as he took in her face. The life and color in her eyes that he loved so much had been gone. Even as he lifted her body into his lap, there was disbelief that even his darker self had been capable of killing the one woman he would never stop fighting for. Yet, she laid lifeless in his hold.

A sob passed his lips as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to her face. There were several emotions playing through him. Guilt, grief, anger at himself and at the monster that laid within him. Anger at his mother for the spell she had placed on him that forced that monster to the surface when he spent centuries trying to keep him at bay.

A gasp left Rebekah’s lips as she and Klaus had come to Elijah’s side. They both had taken in the scene just as Elijah had moments before. grief had instantly flooded the siblings as they watched their brother hold onto his wife.

When Rebekah tried to take a step towards Elijah and Y/N, Klaus pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug. While he knew that Rebekah meant well in wanting to be by their brother’s side, Klaus knew that Elijah needed a moment with his wife without anyone else interfering.

A loud cry of pain rang in Elijah’s ears as it left Y/N’s lips causing her hands to fall to her side. He watched as she looked down to find that he removed his hand from her neck, his other had been shoved into her chest. Her heart was within his grasp as he watched her take in her current situation.

He could feel the way her heart beat within his grasp. How fragile she had become the moment he had his hand in her chest. He had been holding her literal life in his hand and only one movement would bring the threat in his eyes to death.

He watched as Y/N's eyes had filled with tears before they began flowing down her cheeks. He had been studying her reactions. Taking them in as if for a moment as he was fighting himself on what he was doing. But the magic rooted deep within the monster would never allow the man out of the deep to save his beloved. With the simple action of squeezing his hand, another scream filled his ears at the action.

Elijah watched as even though Y/N had been struggling to fight against his hold, the tears that had once been streaming down her face had slowed. The fear that once was in her eyes, vanished almost completely. Her reactions went from surviving to accepting of what was to come.

Elijah shook his head as the memories flooded in. The details that poured into his mind did nothing but fuel the guilt and anger that filled him. Y/N tried everything she could to break through to him. Everything that worked beforehand, she had tried once more.

It was when Elijah had watched as her features changed in his memories that he understood how deep he had been under his mother’s spell. And as the memories continued to play, his hold on Y/N’s body became a little tighter.

Elijah watched as Y/N struggled for a moment more as she tried to gain some control over herself. Her eyes met his as she took a shaky breath.

“I-it’s okay.” Her voice cracked slightly before she groaned from the pain from the slightest movement of his hand. “I’m not scared. I promise. It’s n-not your fault if you do this. It’s going to be okay. Just know that I love you.”

Elijah may have received the message Y/N had been trying to get to him, but that didn’t change what happened. Y/N had known she couldn’t break through to him to get him to stop. The only thing she could do was speak to the man that would come out of the darkness eventually.

“Forgive me.” Elijah said as he looked down at Y/N. Tears had fallen from his cheek and several tear drops had landed on Y/N’s face.

His mother had been hell bent to prove to her children that there was a way to get away from the creatures they had become. She offered each of them a way to start over and each of her children refused, content with their life even if there were centuries of heartache and darkness. None of them would be willing to trade their lives to live within an innocent’s body.

With that refusal, Esther played dirty and Y/N was the necessary means to the witch in order to drive her words home to her children. While it hadn't been directly her doing, it was her spell that left Elijah holding his wife’s body as he cried uncontrollably at what he did.

No amount of apologies that passed his lips could take back the actions he had done. No amount of begging to anything that would listen to bring her back would force life into her. No shaky touch of his fingers along her face or press of his lips to her skin would change the actions the creature within had done.

His blood stained hand held her ashen gray cheek as his thumb ran along the veins that littered her face. “Please forgive me.”

The words had been repeated several times in hopes that some way she’d be able to hear them. He said them more times in the last several minutes than he ever had said them within his existence. Yet, she’d never be able to say the words that he needed to hear.

His heart ached at the thought that she wouldn’t be able to give him the forgiveness that he seeked. Even though she accepted and went into her death with no fear, all while promising it hadn’t been his fault, he felt otherwise. Her blood, and others, were literally on his hands.

With her gone, Elijah knew nothing would be the same. The woman he spent a majority of his existence with had been taken from him. The woman that pulled him from the edge of darkness time and time again would no longer be able to. And that thought alone scared him more than anything.

His eyes moved over his face once more. His mind was trying to picture her in any form other than the ashen gray that took a hold of her. Anything to bring life into her. A way to hold on to her for as long as he can mentally do so. Physically, Elijah knew he could sit there for hours holding on to her, begging for the events to be different, begging for her forgiveness for killing her.

It was what would come after, that scared him. His light within the darkness had been snuffed out. The one person that could always bring him back would no longer be able to. The further into the spell he went, there would be no telling what would happen next.

As his hold on Y/N tightened, clinging onto what he had left, the creature within taunted him. Taunted him with the memories that he wished never happened in the first place. And with each fresh wave of guilt, Elijah was faced with the undeniable truth.

The next time he fell into darkness, there would be no coming back.

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kitkatscabinet · 1 year

Text

Bejeweled

Aegon Targaryen II x f! reader

Summary: You hadn't married Aegon for love but you had thought time would at least endear you to each other. When years pass and he remains stuck in his drinking, whoring ways you decide to make him pay the best way you know how.

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: didn't know where i was going with this and ended up writing whiny sub Aegon: 18+ only, minors scram. never written smut before so if its cringe sorry. Spell check stopped working halfway through so probable errors.

Baby love, I think I've been a little too kind. Didn't notice you walking all over my peace of mind

As a highborn daughter of a lord you'd always known it was your destiny to marry well. To be sold like cattle to the highest bidder, you had long since accepted your lot in life.

So when you had been wed to the first son of the King you had done so without a hint of protest. Your parents hadn't been a love match but they had grown close enough and were on friendly terms. You had known this going in, just as you had heard the less than savoury rumours that surrounded the prince.

You had let it slide when he'd gotten outrageously drunk on your wedding night and the months after when he'd continued to drown in his cups and whores.

All the while you'd continued to play the role of the loyal, loving wife. Pulling his hair from his face, tucking him in when he'd passed out drunk, bending to his every whim in the hopes that maybe he’d finally see you.

It takes two years for you to completely give up, two years two long because after all Puttin' someone first only works when you're in their top five.

Aegon’s 20th name day was a resplendent affair. The Queen had taken it upon herself to ensure her eldest son and heir received the finest of days, even if he didn't deserve it. Deserved or not the festivities had given you the perfect opportunity for subtle retribution.

You had taken it upon yourself to be fashionably late to the banquet, mirroring his own lady mother's entrance to princess Rhaenyra's wedding. The magnificent gown that complimented every inch of your figure a stunning example of your house colours. Not a single inch of Hightower green or Targaryen imagery to be seen.

Hungry eyes of lords and ladies alike followed your figure, drawn to the beauty that had been heavily accentuated by the glittering jewellery that adorned your wrists and neck. Diamonds and pearls that had mostly been gifted to you by your already outrageously drunk husband. The husband that had been too busy eye fucking the poor serving girl to notice your entrance.

It isn't until you take your designated seat beside your husband does Aegon notice your form. Eyes widening comically as you grasp the newly filled cup from his hands and bring it to your own painted red lips.

A wicked sense of satisfaction fills your chest its tendrils curling around your heart as you notice how absolutely entranced the drunkard has become with you. Aegon's lips are parted with desire as his eyes greedily drink in what he believes to be his present. Your raise the glass once more to hide the vindictive smirk that has slithered its way onto your face as you think

Best believe I'm still bejeweled. When I walk in the room. I can still make the whole place shimmer. Aegon had taken so much from you, but your body, your beauty was still yours.

You don't stay seated for long as jaunty music fills the hall in a tune you had always been particularly fond of. Fingers lightly trailing over Aegon's shoulders as you make your way to the dancefloor. Your husband had never been one to entertain your desire to do so, and now you were determined to make him watch as another man placed his hands on what he thought was his.

As you made your way into the dancing crowd your husband was forced to watch as you laughed in delight, spinning between the various lords that had all but tripped over themselves to be by your side.

Aemond had regaled you with tales of what it felt like to ride the legendary Vhagar and whilst you had never experienced the rush of dragon riding yourself you could only assume it felt something akin to your current delight. The burning fire of your blood as you witnessed Aegon's scowl turning into something darker. The power that thrummed through your veins as you forced your husband to watch as his nephews clutched at your waist. Not even his brother had been spared from your devious clutches, half-lidded eye and head following your retreating form as you moved to your next plaything.

Alas, that seemed to be the final straw for Aegon as he swiftly made his way to your side with a jaw clenched so hard you wondered how his teeth didn't crack. The grip with which he grabbed you was bruising though you refused to allow your discomfort to show, chin raised high as you looked into furious violet eyes.

"What, do you think you're doing, wife" he hissed into your ear all vitriol and gnashing teeth. Feigning confusion, you furrow your brows before running a delicate hand over his face.

"Whatever do you mean husband? I simply wished to dance, you've never shown any interest before and I didn't want to bother you and your serving girls." The illusion you had tried to maintain instantly shattered as your own venom leaked through.

It is Aegon's turn to be slightly taken aback then, you'd never so much as hinted your displeasure for his proclivities before. He'd never witnessed anything other than your kind doting and blind eyes to his lecherous ways. The sheer surprise in his countenance has you scoffing and pushing back an ugly bubble of laughter.

"Don't look so surprised husband" you hiss, "familiarity breeds contempt." Your rage fades into something more melancholy as you realise it is indeed the familiarity you had allowed yourself with him that has you so angry.

You had only ever brought up your fury once before in a drunken haze when you had begged him not to put you in the basement when you wanted the penthouse of his heart.

To your eternal luck, the song ended before either of you had the opportunity to speak again and you were pulled away by a brave or suicidal lord for the next.

Forcing back the tears and pushing a smile onto your face you eagerly took the lord's hand. You spent the rest of the night avoiding Aegon's presence, surrounded by lords and ladies more than willing to keep you company. Diamonds in my eyes I polish up real, I polish up real nice.

Your sudden desire to entertain anyone other than your husband doesn't end with the celebrations. When Aegon confronts you once more, a week after you stop mothering him you simply say "baby boy, I think I've been too good of a girl." You run a thumb over his lips before turning to make your escape, I think it's time to teach some lessons.

By now the residents of King's Landing court were more than aware of your sudden cold treatment of the prince. None more so than the men and women that had found themselves on the recieving end of your attention. Light touches with your rind adorned hands and whispers into ears with lips lingering a little too closely to be proper. Helaena and Aemond were the most popular recipients of your affection, the starved pair eagerly basking in the glory of your love.

Aegon, who had attempted to appear nonchalant at your sudden interest in the lords and ladies of the courts had eventually become furious.

It came to a head when Aegon had stalked into your room, obviously drunk, to see you curled up in Helaena's lap as she read through the newly update encyclopedia of instects you had gifted her. The following acidic conversation had quickly devolved into a screaming match that had you ushering an overwhelmed Helaena to safety.

Every nasty thought you had been holding in finally erupted once the sweet girl was out of the crossfire and the doors to your chambers slammed shut.

"My brother wasn't enough for you, you're fucking my sister now?" he sneered, wine spilling over his hand and adding to the various stains adorning his once white shirt.

Tears of fury burn the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, to give the bastard in front of you the satisfaction. Scoffing you stalked towards him, remaining out of striking distance but more than ready to rain your own hell down on him.

"What would it matter if I did?" you hissed defiantly, the ugly part of you still determined to make him hurt.

"You're my wife! You belong to me" he shrieked back, and that was your final straw. Feet swiftly closing the small gap between the two of you as your open palm connected with the skin of his cheek. The force left your hand stinging but you couldn't drag your eyes off the reddening skin of his pale skin. Pained shock covered his face as he clutched at the affected area.

"You're my husband, you're supposed to belong to me!" you retaliated trying desperately to ignore the gathering tears in his eyes. "I made you my world! I gave you all my pieces until I didn't even recognise myself anymore!"

The sapphire tears that you had so desperately been trying to keep at bay streaming down your own face. All at once your rage diminished and you were drowning once more in the sadness that had become your whole sky.

Unfortunately, your vitriolic rage was the only thing keeping your shaking body upright and your knees were quick to hit the floor. Deep heaving sobs shook your entire frame as you struggled to regain the breath you were losing.

Vaguely you are aware of Aegon clutching onto your form but you are too exhausted to push him away, desperate for some kind of comfort. His lips leave a burning trail along the skin of your neck and down to your chest. His deft fingers slowly unlace your nightgown whilst yours tangle in his silver hair, tugging at the roots to direct his movements.

Your mind is screaming at you to stop him, to not let him just crawl back to use and discard you once more. Gaining back some clarity you tug harshly at Aegon's hair, forcing his mouth to dislodge itself from your inner thigh. What you hadn't accounted for was the pathetic whine that your action had drawn from his throat.

You watched greedily as your husband's pupils dilated even further, lips pouting as he struggled against your hand to return to his prize. Your grip remained firm however as you sat up, using your free hand and legs to flip the unsuspecting man onto his back, before enclosing your grip around his neck instead. Once more his throat let out a pathetic whine that set your veins alight, fire burning in your chest down to your fingertips as you forced his writhing form to stay still.

Slowly you ground your hips down against his, eyes never leaving his as you lowered your mouth to bite down just over his heart. Your reward was a shaky gasp that sounded delicously close to a sob that had your hips faltering in astonishment.

The desperate upwards bucking of hips below you snaps you back into action. Fingers flexing in a warning around his throat as you lifted yourself onto his lower abdomen in order to stop any movement.

"No." With a single word the tides had changed, the usually prideful man had been reduced to a puddle of shaking, begging tears. Throat dry and nerves alight with ecstasy you slowly rid your bodies of any remaining cloth before sinking back down into his lap. You keep your movements deliberately slow as your rock your hips back and forth, mouth leaving punishing bruises along the milky expanse of his skin.

All the while your eyes never leave his face, scrunched up in pleasure and mouth stringing together the prettiest mix of moans and babbled words.

"please" he whimpers, eyes rolling into the back of his head and almost causing the last thread of your self control to snap from its already frayed state.

"Please what?" you smirked wickedly in response, attempting to maintain the last vestiges of your percieved control. Unintelligible whimpers are your only response and in a vindictive move you stop once more. "Use your words Aegon" you chided, leaning up to nip at the skin just below his ear.

"Please. Please, please fuck me" he shakily babbled out, breathy words finally pushing you over the edge. Your hips snapped into a punishing pace, hand grasping his throat so tightly you knew the skin underneath would soon bllom into a deep purple.

"Is this what you want? The reason you throw yourself so desperately at all those whores? You want someone to treat you like one?" you growl into his ear, your own pants of pleasure ane exhertion mixing with those from the writhing form beneath you.

The gasped moans increasing in pitch and furiously shuddering thighs indicated that in a typically selfish Aegon move, your husband wouldn't last much longer. A wave of annoyance ran through you as a snarl erupted from your throat. Lightening the harsh grip on his throat you offered only a brief reprieve before your fingers snaked their way into silver locks once more. Tugging forcefully you pulled until his chest was flush against yours, sweat mixing together as the two of your fought to pull the other impossibly closer.

"Touch me" you demanded, forcefully pulling his mouth down to bite at your hammering pulse and shoving one of his hands between your legs. Where Aegon ends and you begin is a mystery, the both of you desperately clawing at each other as if trying to pull the other into their very being.

It is with large hands splayed and grasping at your back and whimpered chants of your name just reaching your conscience through the debauched moans and slapping skin that you reach your high. Thighs clamping down against muscled thighs and a final harsh tug of sweat soaked silver locks is all it takes for Aegon to follow.

Your lungs greedily gulp in air tainted by the stench of sex as you force your shaking body to cooperate. Pulling yourself back you allow a brief persual of the masterpiece you had created still splayed bonelessly on your mattress. Burning leg muscles eventually allow you to move, collecting your discarded nightdress as you make yourself as presentable as possible.

"where're you goin?" Aegon slurs from your bed, glazed eyes hazily attempting to take in your movements.

"To bed, and seeing as mine is occupied it appears I'll have to find my rest elsewhere tonight. Good night Aegon." You are too swift for him to protest but as you reach the door you throw one last look at your painting of purples and reds before calling, "clean yourself up, you look like a whore." With those final words you close the door behind you once more, holding your head high as your assigned guards for the night throw uncomfortable glances at your post pleasure form. The sweat adorning your skin glinting slightly in the low lighting the various torches provided.

What's a girl gonna do? A diamond's gotta shine

Whispers flitted through the cut throat court of King's Landing. Whispers of a bejweled temptress and the pathetic Targaryen that attempted to hang off her arm like a broken bangle. Whispers that turned to scandalised gasps that followed when she walked in the room, a different Targaryen draped proudly across her arm. Long silver hair matching the refinery littering her fingers, wrists and neck as she made the whole place shimmer.

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mjlovescm · 2 months

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Illicit affairs, Spencer Reid

Very old Spencer oneshot inspired by "Illicit affairs" by Taylor Swift.

“Meet me outside in seven minutes. We need to end this now.”

As you read the text, you could feel your stomach turning.

“We need to end this now.”

We, huh? He ended it months ago, so what could he possibly need to talk about. You walk to the gift table and drop your present off. Perfume and cologne. The same ones they wore the first day they met each other. No name signed on that part would hurt too much.

You asked Spencer so you could be exact about what you planned to buy. It's a simple gift, really, but it's the thought that counts. It's sweet with sentimental value. The perfect gift for the perfect couple. The perfect girlfriend and boyfriend, soon to be the perfect husband and wife.

With the gift gone, you walked towards the exit before being stopped by a worried Penelope.

“Y/n have you seen Spencer ?” Your heart drops. “We want to start soon, and the guests are getting anxious.”

You panicked not knowing what to say so you shake your head instead. You were flustered, your face warm in anticipation.

Of course, everyone is anxious. No one wants the groom to be missing on the wedding day. Everyone's looking for him, and he's waiting for you outside. You felt disgusted with yourself. Guilt was written all over your face. And soon tears would be too.

Scanning the parking lot, the only person you could see was a tall man in a large dark coat. You almost didn't want it to be him.

It had been ages since you and Spencer spoke one on one, and you knew this would be just like the last time. He'll tell you it's over, the best thing to do now is to move on. But maybe this time would be different, maybe this time you would say what needed to be said. Maybe this time you'll be the one he wants…

The man turns around, revealing himself, his face covered by the hood on the coat. You smiled seeing him again, all dressed up with his long brown hair gelled back and the bowline glasses that fit his face perfectly. You opened your arms for a hug, any sort of embrace from him. Instead of doing the same, Spencer roughly grabbed you by your arm, pushing you against a car behind him. Making sure no one could see you.

This isn't the time or place to make a scene.

“Why are you here?” He barked.

“What no hi, hello you good y/n.” you attempted to lighten the situation.

Clearly you failed.

“Answer the question,” he demanded.

From this angle you could see his face fully, it was lit up by the moon. Being pressed against the car brought back memories. Memories of him and you, but his face lit by candles, and you were pressed against his bed. Naked.

“Are you gonna answer or not?”

“Surprisingly, I was invited by the bride, Ms. Jennifer Jareau. Well, soon to be Jennifer Reid, but I highly doubt she'll take your last name.”

The tension and anger is visible not just on his face, but also in the way he was holding you. His nails digging into your skin, you still pressed to the car. The only time he was as you was when you threatened to tell her about your relationship. If you could really ever call it that.

“Fine. Then why did you show up.” he hissed.

He lets go of you, he knows remaining calm was the best thing to do. He wouldn't ever hurt you, at least not in a way you wouldn't enjoy.

“Why wouldn't I show up? My friends are getting married.”

You state the obvious.

“You know why you shouldn't show you. We've been over this y/n, it was a lap in my judgment, JJ and I were having issues, and you comforted me when things escalated.”

“A lapse in judgment for almost half a year.” you yelled, pain cracking your voice.

His hands flew over your mouth and Spencer silenced you.

“Y/n, JJ is my best friend, okay she means the world to me. I'm sorry I no longer think about us the same way you do, but the fact is… I am marrying the love of my life today.” He speaks slow and careful, praying you understand. “You telling her we slept together for a few months would break her trust in me, in our relationship, in your friendship with her, but most importantly, it would break her.”

It would. It would absolutely shatter her, you couldn't care less what happens to Spencer in the end. But JJ, she deserves to be happy. She deserves the truth, right?

Spencer calms himself and takes a step away from you as you think.

“Fine, I wasn't planning on telling her anything anyway. But I have to stay for the wedding.” you attempted to stand your ground.

“No.” He demanded. “No, you have to leave. Coming here was one thing, but staying is something else.”

You stood still, frozen in disbelief. He didn't trust you enough to stay.

How did everything crumple so fast ? How did he go from crying in my arms about how much he missed her to coldly forcing me away again ? You could feel the tears in the corners of your eyes. It soon became hard to breathe, but you hold yourself together. Crying in front of Spencer wasn't something you could do, not again. Not now.

“Promise me you won't have any more laps in your judgment, JJ doesn't deserve that, no one does.”

As you began to walk away, you felt Spencer pull you back. His cold hands cup your face. He kisses you, forcing your face into his. His hands shake from the moment, from the cold, from you. Spencer pulled away from you with tears forming in his eyes.

“I love you, y/n.” He whispers it, like the secret it is. “Thank you sincerely.”

He ran back towards the building at the speed of light. Leaving you in shock as you stood alone in the large, dark parking lot. That was the first time he'd said those words.

You walked to your car freezing, your jacket left in the coat check. Silent, you sat in the car for a moment before releasing a large sad sigh. It felt like the first time you'd breathed in months. For too long, you were caught in Spencer's awful chokehold. Without your notice, tears streamed down your face as you looked at the building in your rearview mirror.

You could stay sure, but what would be the point?

This night was painful enough, JJ doesn't need that kind of hurt.

“She deserves happiness and he deserves her. No one else needs to get hurt tonight.” you repeat to yourself as you drive away.

Masterlist - mjlovescm "Flashing Lights" Spencer Reid x black fem stripper reader fic

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x black!reader #criminal minds #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #illicit affairs #taylor swift #folklore #criminal minds imagine

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1800-fight-me · 1 year

Text

Uncovered Desires

Aemond Targaryen x Petite!Female!Reader

A Practice Makes Perfect Fic - This can be read as a stand alone fic or part of the series!

Rating: Explicit- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Canon level misogyny, discussions of sex, and explicit sex

Synopsis: You’re too nervous to admit you desire your husband, but he’s determined to pull a confession out of you.

Author’s Note: Still yearning about being Aemond’s pretty little wife… more parts in this series to come!! I hope y’all like it!!

Aemond Masterlist

You were still relatively new to court, and thus were not quite used to the scheming and underhanded way of speaking that so bewildered you.

Aemond once told you that you were too sweet for your own good, but that he liked you that way.

You had only been in King’s Landing for the month of your betrothal to the prince and the month and a half since your wedding.

So when the ladies of the court gossiped and spoke honeyed yet poisoned words, you did your best to remain kind but knew you shouldn’t trust any of them.

But being the seven kingdom’s newest princess meant you were nearly constantly surrounded by social climbers that hoped to get on your good side.

It was another such lunch in the gardens in which they all surrounded you and discussed the court’s latest scandals.

You mostly kept quiet as you ate and listened.

You wondered what Aemond was currently busy with. Perhaps he was training, a thrill ran through you as you thought of watching him master a sword. You imagined him all worked up and sweaty and immediately decided to plan your exit and find your husband.

“And I heard back from my husband, he is going to return next week,” Lady Lannister said.

“Oh you must be thrilled,” you said kindly and she gave you a confused and rather judging look.

“Not particularly. He is sure to have needs when he returns. As infrequent as it is, I always loathe performing that particular wifely duty,” she said and all the other women made sounds of sympathy and agreement.

You found yourself feeling rather confused. Infrequent? Why would she loathe it?

“Princess, why are you confused?” one of the ladies asked, at least her tone was kind.

It appeared you still had not mastered the skill of controlling your facial expressions.

“It is infrequent that your husband lies with you?” you asked carefully.

“Yes, he is frequently either away or busy. Even when he is here it is not often. We already have children anyway,” she said dismissively.

You began to feel worried. Would Aemond lose interest in you when you bore him children? Was it not normal how often your husband lied with you? Was it not normal for you to enjoy it so much?

“Oh, I see,” you said.

The women shared looks with one another before one of them spoke up.

“How often does the prince expect you to perform your wifely duty?”

“Um. It has been every night since we were wed,” you said bashfully as you looked away.

The women gasped and then made sympathetic noises, this time directed at you.

“Oh my dear, I’m so sorry,” Lady Lannister said and you looked at her in bewilderment.

“Why?”

“That must be awful for you to endure,” she said as she grabbed your hand and squeezed your hand as if you had been through a horribly tragedy.

“Oh. N-no not really. I rather enjoy it,” you stammered out as you looked down and pulled your hand from hers.

Dead silence made your heart pound.

You looked up and all the women were staring at you with varying degrees of shock and disgust.

“I shall take my leave now. Thank you for the lunch, ladies,” you said as you stood.

Tears stung your eyes at the judgment that came from the women before you.

They all stood with you and curtsied before you turned and left.

Before you were out of earshot, however, you heard them break out into laughter at your expense and you knew you would be the topic of gossip for a long while.

The tears began to fall and you hurried away to find a place to be alone.

Unfortunately as you turned and exited the gardens and entered the Red Keep, you nearly ran into your mother-in-law.

“Hello, my dear,” she said to you and as you lifted your head and met her gaze her smile turned into a look of concern.

“What is wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you said as you quickly wiped away your tears.

“Nonsense,” Alicent said. “Come with me.”

She took your hand and led you to her quarters where she had you sit and placed a cup of tea in your hands despite your protests that you were fine.

Her motherly kindness and concern warmed your heart.

“Tell me, what has happened?”

“It is a delicate matter I suppose,” you said after you took a deep breath.

You felt awkward talking with your husband’s mother about your sexual encounters with him.

“Is it about Aemond?” she asked.

You placed the tea on the table next to your chair.

“Sort of. I- I still struggle with getting along with the ladies of the court and it seems I shared too much with them about my marriage,” you said shamefully as you picked at your sleeve.

“And now you fear they gossip about you?” she asked understandingly.

“And make fun of me,” you said quietly.

“What do you think they make jest of you about?” she asked.

A few more tears fell from your eyes and you wiped them away.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself.

“Does it make me a whore that I enjoy relations with my husband?” you blurted out.

She looked at you in shock before she smiled and took your hands in hers.

“What were you taught of sex?” she asked gently.

“The general mechanics of it,” you said and you felt your face burn with embarrassment.

“And I was told it was something to be endured for the man’s satisfaction and to bear his children.”

“And now?”

“It….it is not what I expected. Aemond is so gentle and kind with me. I find joy in it rather than just enduring it,” you mumbled and you felt you could explode into flames from embarrassment.

“That is a good thing,” she said, her voice gentle and reassuring as she squeezed your hands.

“Not everyone understands what that is like, but it is wonderful that you get to experience that with your husband.”

You nodded and felt instantly better due to her words.

“Do not fret over the gossip of snakes, you are a part of the family of dragons now,” she said.

“Yes, my queen.”

“You should discuss this with Aemond as well,” she suggested gently.

“Okay.”

“Do you know why I chose you for him?”

“The bond of our houses-“

“Yes, yes, all of that,” she said dismissively as she waved her hand.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you waited for her to continue.

“Aemond has endured much in his life already. He deserves kindness.”

You nodded in agreement.

“You are very gentle, I have observed you being kind to everyone around you, and especially to my son. And I knew you were taken with him when you first met him. I overheard you in the gardens one day as you told your mother of how handsome you found him,” she said with a soft smile.

You glanced down in embarrassment.

“And you were not intimidated by him, as so many are. I knew you would be a good match when he also showed interest in you right away, which happened so infrequently.”

You smiled at that.

“Are you happy, dear?” she asked.

“Yes, my queen. Quite happy. More than I ever thought possible. You raised a wonderful man, he is so respectful and attentive.”

She smiled at you.

“I do believe Aemond feels the same happiness. I spoke to him recently, about a different topic of course, but he mentioned you. Do you know what he called you?”

You pressed your lips together. Your husband often called you many loving names when you were alone with him.

You shook your head.

“My sweet little wife, he said, as if he were just saying ‘my wife’. As if he said the phrase so often it came naturally.”

You hid your soft giggle behind your hand.

“He called me that in front of you?”

She smirked. “Yes he did, and he seemed rather embarrassed about it. Does he call you that often?”

You nodded.

“I am glad he thinks you sweet. I do as well.”

“Thank you, my queen. I have felt very welcomed by you and your family,” you said, your heart full enough to burst.

That night, when your husband came, you let embarrassment stop you from taking your mother in law’s advice and discussing what happened with him.

As he kissed you, you found that all thoughts of words fell out of your pretty little head and the only word that remained was his name as it fell from your lips over and over.

Several nights later, Aemond dined with you for dinner, though it was a late one due to his busy schedule as he assisted his brother in running the seven kingdoms.

He seemed exhausted from the day’s endeavors, but happily listened to you as you told him about your day.

After he finished his meal he stood and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I shall retire for the night now, little wife,” he murmured.

As he strode to the door instead of your bed you blurted out, “What?”

He looked back at you, his eyebrow raised.

“W-will you not sleep here?” you asked nervously.

Your husband’s room had gone unused since your wedding as he had spent every night with you.

“Is that what you would like?” he asked.

You fidgeted with your skirt.

“Y-yes. I have grown accustomed to sleeping with you and fear I would not be able to fall asleep without your presence,” you admitted.

The soft smirk on his lips showed that he was pleased with your answer and you breathed out a soft sigh of relief.

He walked over to his side of the bed in long strides and began to remove his outer clothes.

“Would you like help?” you offered as you stood but he shook his head.

Often as you helped undress one another is when Aemond would initiate intimate relations with you.

“That is quite alright,” he said.

You swallowed nervously as you nodded.

You could not determine his mood at that moment, nor what had changed, and it made you feel unsettled.

You walked to your side of the bed and removed your robe, which left you only in your nightgown and sat down as you watched him.

Your body rushed with desire and heat as more of his skin was exposed to you.

He laid down in the bed and you did the same.

He did not take you in his arms as he normally did, instead he laid on his back and you stared at his beautiful profile.

“Goodnight,” he said softly as his eye fluttered closed.

“Aemond?”

“Hm?”

“Have I upset you in some way?” you asked, your voice small.

He opened his eye and turned his head to look at you.

“Of course not,” he reassured.

You reached for his hand and brushed your fingers against his skin.

“D-do you not want to…”

“Hm?”

Your face heated with embarrassment and you found yourself fidgeting once again.

There was something mischievous in the gleam of his eye, like he knew exactly what you meant but wanted to hear you say it.

Another game of his, you surmised, he did love to see you squirm.

“Do you… do you not desire me tonight, dear husband?”

You anxiously waited for his response and hoped that the quirk of his lips meant he would pull you into his arms.

“What do you desire tonight, sweet wife?”

“What?”

He leaned up on his arm and moved closer to you so his body was close enough that you could feel his heat but not close enough to touch you.

“Tell me of your desires,” he said and his breath tickled your face.

No one had ever asked you about your desires, perhaps that was why you felt like it was wrong to have them.

“I…”

“Yes?” he prompted you to speak.

You stared into his eye and at the care and affection you saw there, you took a deep breath and pushed yourself to be honest.

“I desire you,” you said nervously.

He smirked in satisfaction.

“And what is it that you want of me?”

His lips were close enough to yours that you could almost feel them, but not quite. It was enough to make you feel desperate for him.

“Kiss me, please,” you said breathily.

His lips were on yours instantly as he kissed you with a hunger that took your breath away.

You moaned at the taste of him as his tongue slipped against yours.

He pulled back abruptly and you furrowed your brow in confusion.

“Tell me what you desire now, my pretty little wife,” he ordered.

“Take me,” you pleaded.

He grinned devilishly.

“I will,” he promised and kissed you once more.

“But you will tell me exactly what you wish me to do,” he purred as he trailed his lips across your cheek, down to your jaw, and finally to the side of your neck.

Your breath caught once again.

“I would like you to touch me,” you said.

He nipped at your neck and his hand released its grip on your waist and trailed sensually down your body.

He found the hem of your nightgown and rucked it up.

“Would you like me to remove this completely, princess?” he asked as he kissed you and slipped his tongue against yours.

“Yes,” you practically pleaded.

He smiled and did as you bid.

As he moved to embrace you and kiss you once more you held a hand to his chest.

He looked at you in surprise.

“I wish for you to remove your clothing as well,” you said, finally finding your voice with his gentle encouragement and obedience to your wishes.

His smile of approval filled you with an ache to continue to please him.

His eye trailed your naked chest as he quickly bared himself before you.

You bit your lip as more of his skin was shown to you.

You pulled off his eyepatch and pressed a kiss to his cheek, right at the bottom of the scar below his sapphire eye.

His breath hitched.

You trailed your fingers across his collar bone, then his chiseled chest, before you made your way down his toned torso.

You loved his lithe yet muscular body.

He gripped your wrist before you could wrap your hand around his hardened length like you so wanted to.

“This is about you, little love, tell me how you would like me to please you,” he ordered.

He had never before called you little love and you forgot how to breathe for a moment as the term of affection washed over you.

“Your fingers,” you finally breathed out.

He pounced and enraptured your mouth in a desperate kiss as he spread your legs and his long fingers began to tease and explore.

His lips moved down to your chest and he licked and sucked at your breasts which caused you to you moan wantonly.

It was one of the most erotic sights you had ever seen.

“Please,” you pleaded as you could not take the teasing any longer.

Finally he brushed his finger against your clit to hear your high pitched, “Oh!”.

He looked up at you and smiled crookedly before he dipped two fingers inside of you and pumped them slowly in and out of your drenched heat.

You gasped and squirmed.

He then spread your wetness as he again found your clit and began to trace tight circles around your bundle of nerves.

“Oh gods, Aemond,” you groaned.

“You look perfect like this,” he said against your skin as he began his ministrations on your breasts again.

It was so much stimulation at once, you feared it would be too much, but you soon felt your release begin to build.

“Come for me, my perfect little wife,” he moaned and you nearly squealed in ecstasy as your pleasure crescendoed and reached its peak.

You gasped his name as you came.

Before you could begin to catch your breath, his lips were on yours and his tongue pillaged your mouth.

You moaned into his mouth as he quickly shifted both your bodies and buried himself deep inside you.

There was no better feeling than your husband’s cock as he made you feel fuller than you had ever felt in your life.

“Wait,” you pulled back slightly.

He raised his eyebrow at you in question, so lost in the feeling of being inside you he forgot that you were supposed to tell him what you wanted him to do.

“Before, when you put my feet atop your shoulders, it felt so good,” you said, not certain why you suddenly felt so shy again when your husband was thrusting in and out of you.

“Yes,” he agreed quickly as he pulled out of you, grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders before practically folding you in half as he plunged his cock inside you once more.

You moaned loudly at how deep he felt inside you.

“You feel so big,” you gasped.

He groaned as he moved in and out of you at a quick and hard tempo.

“That is because you are so perfectly fucking small and tight,” he gasped.

He repeatedly hit the spot inside you that made you forget words and you were unable to do anything but moan at his silver tongue as you felt yourself gush with wetness once again.

His breathing changed and you could sense that he was near his peak.

You tangled your fingers at his hair at the base of his head and pulled him down to press your lips to his in a hot and desperate open mouthed kiss as you consumed his sounds of pleasure.

With one finally thrust, he pushed his length deep inside you and spilled himself within you.

You both moaned in tandem before he slowed and finally stilled.

As you both caught your breath he began to press gentle kisses to every part of your face he could reach until you were giggling.

With a final groan he pulled out of you and turned you over so he could slot himself behind you and curl his body around yours.

You were both too hot and sweaty to bother with finding the blankets, but couldn’t resist the urge to feel one another’s skin.

“You are even more desirable when you find your voice, my sweet little wife. I want you to tell me always of your desires,” he murmured as he ran his hand up and down your hip.

“I always desire you, dear husband,” you whispered.

His hand tightened upon your flesh.

“Words like that will make me take you again, little love,” he said.

“You would find no objection from me,” you said breathily.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know you needn't be so nervous about expressing your desires to me,” he murmured.

You swallowed.

“Yes, I am learning that. It is just difficult for me. I am naturally bashful about such things,” you said.

“Mmm yes, that is what my mother said when she shared with me about an interesting conversation she had with you.”

Shit. You really should’ve told him.

“Oh, umm…”

“That is why I decided to pull your desires out of you if you did not wish to tell me yourself,” he said and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You huffed.

“I should have spoken to you about it, but I was embarrassed.”

“You do not need to be,” he said reassuringly as his hand continued to stroke your skin.

“Marriage is not what I expected,” you said quietly.

“Oh?”

“My parents care for me, but I still knew the chances of being married off to a stuffy old lord who cared little for me besides the ability to bear his children.”

“Hm,” he hummed in discontent with the thought.

“A-and I was taught that sex was to be endured for the husband’s pleasure and to give him heirs.”

He huffed in frustration.

“I did not expect to be married to a handsome prince I feel attracted to. I did not expect my husband to be so kind and caring towards me. I did not expect sex to be a pleasure rather than something to endure,” you said softly.

He held you tighter and ran his sharp nose across your hair as he breathed in deep.

“I am very grateful for you, dear husband,” you said and he pressed a kiss to your head.

“And I-I am extremely fond of you,” you admitted nervously and he turned your body around to face him.

There was raw emotion in his eye as he stared at you.

“I too expected duty to be the primary factor in any marriage for me,” he said.

You nodded as you bit your lip.

“But you, little wife, are the joy of my life and I find I cannot help but love you,” he said gently.

Tears filled your eyes as you smiled.

“Oh, Aemond, I love you too,” you said and he kissed you once again.

And the two of you together discovered the joy and pleasure of making love as he took you once more that evening, both your hearts full and words of love on your lips.

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