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vauxxy · 4 months

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SETTLE DOWN!

luke castellan x reader

★ “for crying out loud, settle down!”

ABOUT - you hate his guts. he hates yours. but you’d by lying if you said you didn’t want to make out with him until his lips start bleeding. and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that idea.

WARNINGS - sexual references, sexual comments, enemies to lovers, steamy makeout scenes, no explicit smut. both luke and reader are very horny and very mean sooo two red flags lol

A/N - please don’t make fun of my english/australian vocabulary. i know americans don’t use the word ‘fit’ but LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!!!let me know if you’d fancy a part 2 <3

WC - 3.7k words

it’s hard to recall when exactly your distaste towards luke castellan first developed.

maybe it started off as rude comments and shoved shoulders, or simply the act of tripping over each other's shoes, paired with a few nasty glances. either way, you hated his guts.

this sentiment was obviously returned by luke, who was eager to constantly egg you on and rile you up. maybe he found it amusing- watching the ever so calm and collected eldest daughter of the hypnos cabin going absolutely ballistic whenever luke did something slightly annoying. he loved the way her mature and gentle persona shattered as soon as he provoked her.

it was rather strange how quickly they let their masks slip, letting themselves shout foul obscenities at each other as soon as a conflict arose between the two of them. it was like being near each other was the primary catalyst for their arguments and squabbles- not the actual contents of the disagreement itself, but the players involved.

curiously, luke’s terrible attitude was never extended to anyone other than you. around everyone else at camp half-blood, luke was the perfect gentleman. warm and welcoming to anyone who happened to walk past him, a great swordsman, well-kept, respectful and polite, the list goes on. he was perfect. but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire body shifted. he became something colder, something ravenous- something hungry. he was out for blood, he just didn’t understand why.

you were slumped over a picnic table near the cabins, tiredly observing all handful of half-blood kids from various cabins making friendship bracelets.

it was dark out, the moon and the embers of the nearby fire acting as the sole providers of light for the camp that night.

truthfully, you didn’t want to be there. you would rather be in bed, coddled up between your sheets for hours before heading down to the infirmary to help out the younger kids with their sleeping troubles. maybe afterwards you could go down to the theatre and join in on a few songs with the apollo kids, or even practice sparring with clarisse.

whatever it was, you didn’t want to be there. not with luke castellan’s eyes studying your every move. you didn’t need to lift your head to know he was looking at you- you could feel it. the arrogance was radiating off him and you could smell his pride from across the picnic table. your nose easily picked up on notes of wet grass, a neutral deodorant, pure spite, and vanilla candles.

after what seemed like an eternity, you eventually shot your head up to meet luke’s unwavering gaze.

“someone’s sleepy.” he smirked, his voice calm and cold. he looked satisfied; content with watching you slowly rise in anger as he began to coddle you and patronise your every move.

you ran a hand through your hair, fixing the messy state it was in after laying down for so long. “i’m not sleepy, just bored.” you retorted, letting your hands hold up your head as you stared deeply into his eyes, not breaking eye contact.

luke played along, refusing to blink as he picked up on the competitive gesture. “bored, huh?” he mused, shooting you a cocky grin as he leaned forward over the table. “you’re never satisfied, are you, princess?”

you rolled your eyes, letting your pupils meet the back of your head as you stifled a groan. you slowly covered one side of your face in your hand, hiding your pink cheeks as a result of his use of the nickname ‘princess’.

“don’t you have a loser convention to get to?” you asked, referring to the cabin councillors meeting that he was supposed to be at.

luke shrugged, looking to his side as he watched a young demeter boy making a bracelet. “got cancelled. now i get to look at your pretty little face for an hour straight.”

“i’m going to bed.” you grumbled, standing up from the picnic table, an unfinished friendship bracelet left discarded. you walked away, hearing little to no protests from the rest of the table.

luke’s eyes met the bracelet you left behind, studying it for a moment. the colours were cute and the beads were placed strategically along the string, creating an interesting and visually pleasing combination of textures and shapes. luke’s hand wandered over to the bracelet, quickly snatching it before securely tying it and stuffing it in his pocket.

luke wasn’t sure why he stole the bracelet. maybe he thought he could taunt you with it, or maybe he could just wear it for shits and gigs. it was a pretty bracelet- why wouldn’t he want to wear it?

a week passed by, and it was time for capture the flag.

luke had consistently come out of the games a champion, securing his place as the best swordsman at camp half-blood whenever possible.

you were tired of it. you promised yourself that when the opportunity arose, you would beat him to it. you would earn the praise he revived so effortlessly.

your determination to win capture the flag was also partially encouraged by the events of the previous tuesday.

you, luke, and a few other older demi-gods were forced to monitor the younger campers on a trip to the nearby lake. simple, right? wrong.

things went south fast when luke ‘accidentally’ nudged your shoulder a bit too hard, forcing you to fall into the lake. luckily, you were a strong enough swimmer and were able to get back on land safely.

“sorry about that, y/n. maybe next time you should keep out of the way?” he leaned in close, whispering in your ear.

luke smirked lightly as his dry hand rubbed the soaking wet and now transparent fabric covering your shoulder. his lips softly grazed your neck as you released yourself from his grip, shooting him a dirty look.

“you should watch your step, castellan. things like this happen to anyone.”

luke scoffed, looking you up and down as he took in the sight of your shivering body. “do they now?” he asked, his head turning to follow your figure as you walked past him.

as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but study your body as it became revealed by the fabric of the camp t-shirt sticking to your skin. how could he not admire the way he could see the vague outline of a lacy black bra underneath your top? or the way your wet hair was framing your angry little face? how you stared him down as your friend offered you a towel.

if you weren’t so acutely aware of how your figure was on full display, you would’ve pushed him in as well- but you were way too infuriated to even get close to him at this point… as well as the fact you didn’t think you could handle the idea of him taking off your shirt in front of you, all wet as his hair let water droplets roll down his torso.

maybe you could handle hitting him with a baseball bat a few times, but the idea of his face all beaten and bloodied was strangely appetising as well.

in all fairness, luke’s actions were not unprovoked. it’s not like you didn’t also tease him and fuck around with his temper.

for example, the very day before the incident at the lake, you had used your abilities as a daughter of hypnos to put him to sleep… for 19 hours, causing him to miss out on camp activities and lose hours of valuable training time.

you felt pure bliss watching him as he stepped out of the hermes cabin, confused and disoriented as hoards of campers instantly surrounded him.

“are you okay luke?”

“i heard you were in a coma!”

“we thought you were a goner,”

luke blocked out the concerned comments of his peers as soon as he caught you gazing over at him from the deck of the hypnos cabin.

with that ‘i got you good’ smirk plastered across your face, luke knew he had to get you back. getting to see your semi-exposed and cold, shuddering body in the process of doing so was only a bonus.

he felt a high from getting to see what he caused. what he did to you. it made him hungry for more. how else could he anger you? get you to show him more? how could you return the favour? would you? he didn’t know if you realised the effect you had on him- but he was going to do anything in his power for you to feel it too.

but those incidents were nothing compared to what was about to go down.

2 hours into capture the flag, and you had managed to fool and scare off enough members of the blue team, causing many individual members to go off track. those hours practising sword fighting with clarisse were definitely worth it.

you leaned against a nearby tree, closing your eyes for a moment as you fiddled with your sword. lost in thought, you heard something coming. more specifically, someone. you didn’t even have to open your eyes to know who it was.

“oh, hey castellan. isn’t it past your bedtime?” you asked, rubbing your eyes open as you lazily swung your sword back and forth.

luke scoffed, taking a step towards you. “i think i like you better when you’re drenched in lake water.” he smirked, looking into your eyes without breaking contact. he couldn’t look away. it wasn’t even because he wanted to intimidate you; he simply couldn’t stand to have you exit his field of vision. not right now, at least.

you look a step backwards, getting into position as you use your shield to protect yourself. “are you gonna try to maim me or what?”

luke took another step forward, mirroring your stance as he took the defensive. “and hurt your pretty little body? i’d rather die.”

you turned red, your mouth agape as you processed what he had said. “excuse me?” you spat, your voice breathy as your eyes widened.

“you heard me,” he smiled innocently, deceiving you before beginning to attack. you blocked every move, pacing around the area as you swung your sword at him. “you’re such a fucking prick!” you grumbled, trying to catch your breath as you struggled to mark him with your blade.

“language, princess.” he scolded, still smiling at you as he continued his attempts at disarming you.

that was the moment when you realised something.

you can play dirty.

not with your sleep-themed party tricks or your weak little fists, but with the power of unpredictability. the element of surprise.

you let him get closer to you, pretending to settle down before him. luke chuckled at the sight of your loosened grip on your shield and increasingly tired eyes, noticing the way your footsteps shuffled backwards and forwards.

“someone’s getting tired-“ his cocky sentiment was quickly cut off by the feeling of your hands tightly gripping his arm- his shock only furthering as your teeth dug into the soft skin on his wrist.

he instantly dropped his shield, his sword still held firmly in his other hand. you quickly released him from your bite, taking a step forwards as you put your weight on his shield. “ow- what the fuck?!” he stammered, looking up at you with red cheeks and a bleeding hand.

you were stumped. you hadn’t thought further than getting rid of his shield. “i didn’t mean to break skin to be honest. sorry.” you shrugged, picking up his shield and throwing it far away while he was still frozen in shock.

luke continued looking at you, silent as he became overwhelmed by the feeling of a ruthless war finally coming to an end within his mind.

obviously, he found you attractive. you were a pretty girl. sure, a lot of girls at camp half-blood were pretty. but for some odd reason, he thought you were much prettier. the type of pretty girl that deserved to be called cute nicknames every day and covered in gentle kisses every night. he wanted to kiss you softly, hold you tightly, say you looked gorgeous, make you tacky beaded bracelets that were the same colour as your eyes. he wanted to make you feel loved.

but he also thought you were a brat. always teasing him and only him. driving him insane with targeted comments and insults. purposefully making him look stupid in front of the younger campers and even patronising him for it. luke wanted to put you in your place. he wanted nothing more than to push you onto his bed in the dead of night, marking you as his. he yearned to hear your strained voice whimpering his name as he towered over you. he wanted to exchange knowing glances and pretend nothing had changed, despite the images of your hands gripping his bedsheets as you let out stifled moans etched into his mind.

luke often wondered how the two could overlap. how the fuck could these two perceptions of this one girl coexist? but luke didn’t wonder how it was possible to think about anymore, he didn’t care about that. now, he wondered if it was possible to act on both of his separate desires for her. he wondered if she even wanted him as much as he wanted her- if she wanted him at all.

“hey, i said i was sorry for making you bleed!” you called out, snapping him out of it.

“stop sulking! what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?”

luke blinked for the first time in what felt like centuries, shrugging as he let a sly smile creepy onto his face. “oh, im not sulking.” he insisted as he stepped closer towards the shorter girl.

he extended his wrist out towards you, a deep and bleeding bite mark engraved into the skin. “you gonna kiss it better, or…?”

you turned red, shaking your head. “i was just joking, castellan.” you murmured coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.

he kept his hand extended towards you, temping you to just take it and kiss it to get him to leave. “fucking loser…” you grumbled, holding his hand in yours as you gave his wrist a soft kiss.

“there, better?” you scoffed before luke’s hands began to tightly grip your wrist, spinning you gently onto your back as he pushed you to the ground, hovering over you. luckily, you still had your sword in your hand. you quickly moved it in front of you, holding the blade close to his neck.

“be careful, princess” he cooed, his sword digging into the dirt ground, standing upright in is position as the skin of your right thigh pressed against the blade. his hands gripped your shoulder and waist, keeping you bound to the floor as you began to squirm under his grip. “ugh, are you kidding me?!” you huffed, your face red from the feeling of intimacy between the two of you arising.

luke was basking in it, relishing the moment as he became almost addicted to the feeling of your skin against his. he let out a hitched breath, his eyes trailing down her frame as he finally realised just how close they were. the vulnerable yet stubborn look in her eyes set off a switch in him. you watched him curiously as he suddenly became a flustered mess, quickly scrambling off of you and standing up.

you lifted your back off the ground, using your hands to rid yourself of the dirt that had accumulated on your shirt.

“are you gonna explain whatever the fuck just happened, luke?” you asked, calling out to him from your spot on the ground.

he rolled his eyes, turning around to face you. “shit, y/n- are you fucking stupid?” he questioned, his voice reeking of irritation and frustration. you furrowed your brows, standing up as you approached him, sword and shield in hand. “oh, alright. forgive me for wondering why the dickhead who threw me into a lake a few days ago was pinning me to the ground in the middle of capture the flag for no reason?” i explained, seething as i pushed him back by the shoulders.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you asked again, letting yourself back him up against a nearby tree.

the game didn’t matter to you anymore. what mattered was getting to the bottom of why this prick was fucking around with you. sure, you liked how it felt being pushed against the ground. you liked the feeling of his blade pressing against your thigh. but you liked the boy more than his actions. you hated yourself for it, of course. this was the dude who’s been teasing you about and pushing you around for 3 summers straight- so why the fuck did you think he was the fittest guy you had ever laid your eyes on?

why did you want him to run his hands through your hair? suck on your neck till it went purple? why on earth did you spend countless nights dreaming about him holding you close as he slept next to you?

you were the eldest hypnos daughter at camp half-blood. you could’ve changed your dream easily; came up with literally any other fantasy at the drop of a hat- but you didn’t. you let it continue. because as much as you hated to admit it, you liked him. you wanted him bad. every last inch of him.

luke let your words echo through his mind for a bit. ‘what is my problem?’ he thought, his expression blank as he stared at you. “i don’t know, y/n! maybe my problem is you?” he said, his voice strained, yet still snarky and somewhat dramatic.

you rolled your eyes again, stepping forward. you kept your hands on his shoulders, pressing him further against the tree he was pinned against. “i’m your problem?!” you asked angrily, holding your sword against his neck once more.

“yes! you make me feel fucking weak.” luke confessed, gripping your wrist tightly as he pushed your hand away in order to create some space between his neck and the sword. “i can’t control myself around you.” he exclaimed, pushing his hand against yours as you retracted the blade from his neck.

“you bring out the worst in me, and i hate you for that.” you arched your brows, leaning forward. “that sounds like a you problem.” you quipped, defeatedly pushing the top of the blade of your sword into the ground as you let your newly free hand grip his chin- forcing him to look down at you.

luke’s hand wandered over to your face, his thumb softly grazing your bottom lip as you tilted his chin downwards, letting him look you in the eyes.

“don’t act like you don’t get exactly what i mean, princess.” he cooed, his voice low as his fingers traced over your lips and cheekbones, his other hand gently caressing your jawline as his fingertips wrapped around your neck.

you grumbled, standing on your toes to reach his height. “you’re a prick.” you scoffed, your eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly kissed him on the lips, his cheeks turning red as he mirrored your movements. he let his hands run through you hair, his other hand resting on your waist as he turned you around- pushing you against the tree now.

his hands ravenously scattered across your delicate frame, trying to feel every curve and dent on your face, back and waist. you pressed your body against his as his hands travelled across your form, closing any and all distance between the two.

after a few straight minutes of violently making out, you pulled away for air, staring into his eyes as your lower lip trembled in shock. you both tried to steady your breathing, lost in each other's eyes as your heartbeats returned back to normal.

“i’ll kiss you again if you turn around and let us win.” you said quickly, the offer seemingly the first thing you could think to say.

luke stayed quiet for a moment, before bursting out into hesitant laughter. “i mean, that’s a pretty good offer…” he said softly, letting his fingers trace your facial features as he studied the colour of your eyes.

“sure.” he said, a little smile on his face as you both leaned in again, the kiss a lot more passionate this time around. you held a clump of his hair in your hand, lightly pulling on on it as luke’s fingers jumped between gripping your neck and shoulders- the other hand running up and down your waist and hips.

you felt his knee hit the bark of the tree, slightly bent as it lightly pressed against the inside of your thigh. that’s when your hands began to grip the back of his shirt, your lips gliding down to the side of his neck. quiet moans escaped luke’s lips, only encouraging you to keep going. he moved his hand downwards, tracing circles into your hips as he moved his other arm hand upwards, cupping the space on the side of your breast with his thumb, lightly rubbing your ribcage.

the moment was only increasing in intensity- before luke was cut off my the sounds of someone calling his name. he quickly pulled away, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping back.

“right, time to hold up my end of the deal.” he chirped up, leaving one more needy kiss on your forehead.

“oh, by the way-“ he paused, before quickly pulling the bracelet you made the week before out of his pocket. “did you want this back, princess? or can i have it?” he asked cheerfully, his voice low as he looked over you.

“keep it.” you said hastily, your cheeks a vibrant shade of red. luke nodded, giving you one final kiss on the lips as he put the bracelet on the same wrist you had bitten earlier. he gave you a subtle wink and a smile, before jogging away- leaving you frozen in place.

you could hear him talking to his friend from a distance, noting on how he lied to effortlessly- saving your arse over a few kisses.

needless to say, the red team won capture the flag. but luke couldn’t bring himself to care about losing. how could he care about anything other than y/n and her hands and her smile and her eyes? her witty comments and remarks? the way she tilted her head up to look up at him? the way his face fits perfectly in her palm? how could he care about anything else ever again?

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #pjs #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan smut #luke castellan enemies to lovers #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson tv show #pjo #luke castellan fic

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 5 months

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Practice On Me — Part Thirteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Backstreet’s back, ALRIGHT! Or rather, the Bat Boys™️ sort their issues out. Tathaln’s ball is officially announced. Azriel gives Kaeda a piece of his mind. Fin has no business being the sexy dad he is. Roza’s worried about reader.

Word count: 6.3k.

Warnings: None for this part.

All is silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tick-ticking of the clock. Cassian has always hated that clock. Finds it fucking annoying.

But it fills the vacant hole that exists in the absence of conversation. That hole is open and gaping between Cassian and Azriel. It’s not a table that sits between them — it’s a dangerous, yawning chasm.

Az stares at Cass, and Cass feels uncomfortable. He’s seen that cold gaze be levelled on people hundreds of times, thousands. To be on the receiving end feels a little like staring death in the face. He actually kind of wishes that Kaeda hadn’t been sent off to the dorms to sleep off her drunken state, because at least then he wouldn’t be the only one here, being subjected to…this.

So, he stands up, so abruptly that his chair almost topples over, and asks, “Want me to make you some tea?” The question feels stupid the second it leaves his lips.

Azriel’s eyes track him, drink in every uneasy shift and twitch. It’s not that Cass is afraid of Az — though anybody with half a brain cell would be — just that he’s not good in these situations. Situations where he has to be serious and…and listen.

“Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s cold voice stops him before he can move. “When, in our years of friendship, have you ever once made me tea?”

Cass peers over a broad shoulder and shrugs half-heartedly. “First time for everything…”

“Sit.”

The word brooks no room for argument. Cassian does, indeed, sit.

It’s then that Azriel heaves a deep sigh, his entire body taut as a bowstring, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Cass blinks. “What?”

“I’m sorry—for what I did in the mead hall. I…had no right.”

“…But Y/N and I…”

“It’s not for me to dictate whether the two of you should or shouldn’t lie together. My…jealousy…is my problem, and mine alone.”

This is hard, Cassian realises — for Az to say this. For him to face it. And Cass can relate to that. Not everyone can be as silver-tongued as Rhysand. The Mother knows, Cass himself isn’t.

But he also isn’t an idiot. Some people may believe him to be, and that’s their mistake, because being proved wrong is usually the last thing they remember before waking up to a healer standing over them. He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know that something was brewing between Azriel and Y/N for years before Cass took her to bed…or kitchen counter, or…whatever.

“I need to be better,” Cassian offers, “at thinking before I act. Thinking about who I might hurt with my decisions. I’m working on it.”

Az studies his friend, and he feels no anger. If anything, it’s guilt that claws at the shadowsinger. He gave poor Cass a pretty good hiding over something that was, essentially, none of his business. And it could have all been different if Az simply wasn’t a coward, afraid of his feelings.

Something he needs to work on.

And perhaps he’s doing that as, rather than burying the topic, he asks, “What…what actually happened? How did you end up sleeping together? I mean…do you have feelings—”

“No.” Cassian cuts him off, blinking. “Gods, no. I love Y/N, you know that. But not romantically. I just…I felt so damn useless that night, Az. If you’d seen the way Y/N was…the self-loathing. I didn’t know how to help.”

Immediately, Azriel’s brow pinches. “Self-loathing?”

“Because of what her father did to her. When we were flying to Fenlaros, and she was the only one being carried in…”

Azriel slumps back in his chair, feeling like a godsdamned idiot.

He blinks forward and wonders what the fuck the point is in being born a shadowsinger when he obviously can’t read situations very well. Within seconds, it’s clicking into place.

“And then you started that fight with that Fenlarion male,” Cass continued. “and Kaeda just declared that it was her you were fighting over…and everyone has a limit, you know? I think that night was just all too much for Y/N. And she was so upset, so downtrodden…talking about how she hated herself. And I’m not good with words like Rhys is, and I’m not as observant as you are, but I am good at physical touch. Physical comfort. And it seemed like the only thing I could offer in that moment to take that bleakness away from her. But I should have thought about how you would feel—”

“I’m glad you were there for her.” Azriel blurts, realising, with every word, how much he means them. “I wasn’t. I failed her that night.”

“I really didn’t know that the two of you had been exploring things. If I did, I wouldn’t have done it. I mean…that fight you started wasn’t over Kaeda at all, was it?”

Az’s eyes shutter. And it goes against every natural instinct of his to strip himself bare and just…be honest. Every steel wall he’s ever built up is screeching in its effort to stand strong and not be caved in. And those walls were necessary in a life of darkness and hate…but that life is long gone.

What good do those walls do him in an environment where he has love, has people who genuinely care for him? As much as he wants to run and hide from his feelings as he always has…he thinks that the key to happiness may be on the other side of those walls. That a new bravery lays in letting some light filter through the cracks and warm a guarded heart.

His voice is quiet, laced with a self-preserving fear, as he admits, “No. It was not.”

Before Cassian can offer an encouraging response, the front door is swinging open, and Rhysand is kicking snow from his boots and trudging in. Azriel tenses like a threatened animal — but there is no threat here. Only safety, only love. He forces his shoulders to relax.

The violet-eyed male takes in the sight before him. Goes still as he looks between his two friends. “Please tell me this is a positive conversation.”

Cassian inclines his head. “Work in progress. Why don’t you make some tea?”

“Fuck you, make your own tea—”

“Make me some tea—”

“Kiss my ass, dickhole—”

“I’m in love with Y/N.” Azriel blurts.

It promptly shuts the other two males up.

They turn away from their bickering to look at the shadowsinger. He looks…shocked, by his own confession.

“I’m in love with her,” he breathes.

Cass and Rhys share a glance, and then Rhys is slowly approaching the table, carefully taking a seat like he doesn’t want to startle Azriel out of the moment.

“We know, Az.” Rhys tells him gently. “I mean…I think we always suspected…”

“I started that fight in Fenlaros because I was jealous of that damn male having his hands all over her. Saying the things he was saying. It was nothing to do with Kaeda.”

“You should really tell her — Y/N, I mean. Tell her how you feel.”

Azriel’s eyes trace a mark in the table as he admits, “Kind of already have. When she came to speak to me earlier today.”

Another glance is shared between Cassian and Rhys. And both are equally surprised — figure they would have heard something about it. Unless…unless it hadn’t gone down well.

And now that Rhys thinks about it, Y/N had been tense whilst he’d flown her back to Velaris. Taut in his arms and barely uttering a few words. Perhaps this was why.

“Did she…not take it well?” Rhys hedges. He wants to be delicate, not go blasting in at full-force. So rarely do they get to see such a vulnerable side to Az.

Azriel shakes his head once. “It’s not that, it’s…” He clears his throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?” Cass pushes, and Rhys shoots him a warning glance.

But Azriel doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t slink back in his seat. Instead, he lifts his head, and he levels his friends with a desperate look.

“There’s more that I haven’t told you.” He says.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A short while later, Az thinks that maybe talking through his feelings is a good thing. Just saying the words has a little bit of weight easing from his chest, his shoulders.

But Cass and Rhys aren’t saying anything at all. Cass and Rhys are staring at him like he has two damn heads.

And then Cassian sits up, barking, “Tathaln Baralas wants what?”

“Exactly what I told you.” Azriel shakes his head. “He wants me to move to Fenlaros and work alongside him. Has some sort of backing from the High Lord, though I’m not sure how much. In a nutshell, Kaeda’s interest in me has always been driven by her father.”

“I knew that little wasp was up to something. You know she tried to kiss me tonight?”

Az shrugs. Really could not give a fuck. “I figured something had happened from the look on your face.”

“I never liked her. Nor her father—”

“Her father,” Rhys cuts in, “walks a very fine line in presuming to exceed in his role as a Camp Lord. His ego and title are going to his head a little, it would seem, if he believes he has the authority to scheme such ideas.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” Cass says. Neither of the other two noticed him get up, but he’s returning to his seat, speaking around a mouthful of food. “All Illyrians in one big camp? They’ll kill each other.”

Rhys is inclined to agree. But he turns a neutral — maybe gentle — expression on Az and asks him, “Do you want to go to Fenlaros?”

It would kill him if Az said yes. Would kill Cass, too. These recent days of being torn apart by tension has been bad enough. Being in different camps and not seeing each other is an almost unbearable thought.

But they would find a way to live with it, if Az decided he wanted to go. They’d find a way to be okay with it.

Such thick silence fills the room that the thudding of all three of their hearts is audible.

But then Azriel replies quietly, “No.”

Neither Rhys nor Cassian bother to hide their relief.

“I told Kaeda I would think about it.” Azriel goes on. “And I told Y/N that I’d promised Kaeda that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really intended to think about it — or needed to. I think…I think I was just using it to bide my time. To create space for myself and…avoid everything else.”

“By everything else,” Cassian chomps into a loaf of bread, “do you mean facing your feelings for Y/N?”

Azriel can’t deny it. He nods. “It’s not an easy thing to face…to be vulnerable. Hiding behind this Fenlaros situation has just been easier. Cowardly, yes, but…easier.”

“You can’t keep pushing her away, though, Az.” Rhys says. “You can’t let her think that you might be leaving if you have no intention of doing so.”

The shadowsinger’s eyes flutter shut, thick, dark lashes grazing his cheekbones. “Do you think I’ve fucked it beyond repair?”

“No.” Cassian offers. “But you will, if you don’t start handling this the right way. Tell Kaeda and Tathaln to fuck off. Tell Y/N you’re in love with her and want to see her naked—”

“Watch it.” Azriel warns quietly, but Cass continues, unperturbed.

“Just start letting more people in. And I’ll stop letting so many people in, because it gets me into trouble. I think…I think we all need to grow up a little. Do better.”

Rhysand’s brow pinches. “What do you mean, we all do? I’ve done nothing other than put my own pleasure aside to advise you idiots. What could I possibly need to do better?”

Cassian shrugs. “That haircut, for one. It’s annoying.”

“And when was the last time your hair saw a comb, Cassian?”

“When was the last time you were generous and made tea for your good, long-suffering friend?”

“So this is about the tea.”

“Of course it’s about the tea, jackass. Zakai clearly isn’t with you for your observational skills…”

Azriel sits back, allowing their bickering to become background noise. There’s a warmth to the sight, the sound, that makes him realise he never again wants a repeat of this situation — of being apart from his friends for days, tension thick between them.

He loves Rhys and Cassian. Loves them dearly.

Another reason why he could never, ever turn his back on this place.

And he finds himself actually being…grateful…that Cass was there for Y/N that night. That she didn’t have to suffer her self-loathing alone.

There’s still a lot to get through, of course. Daunting emotions and truths to face head-on. But as he watches the two loveable idiots in front of him take verbal swipes at each other, it’s the first time in a while that he wonders if things might actually be okay.

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The news is announced the next day, when Lord Devlon gathers a rather colourful bunch of his soldiers in the mead hall and stands at the front, silencing them all with a single shout. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel stand against the far back wall, their arms folded over their chests.

Gods, they hope it’s not another training exercise. Not so soon. Az has things he wants to resolve before he saunters off and possibly gets himself killed.

But Devlon reads the roll of parchment in his hands, a frown contorting his features. He looks up, his eyes very deliberately finding Rhysand as he announces to the room, “A message from the High Lord.”

And every other gaze is then swivelling to turn on Rhys, too. There’s something accusatory about it, like they’re assuming he’s privy to whatever it is their asses have been dragged out of bed to hear.

He isn’t. He wants to be in bed, too.

“Looks like you pricks better get your dancing shoes ready.” Devlon raises his eyebrows. “The High Lord is calling for a ball. Legions from all camps invited.”

This — this is exciting news for the brutish males who could fill the mead hall with their egos alone. Not because they have a particular affinity for dancing, but because amongst themselves, they’re already murmuring about which particular camps they dislike for some reason or other, and what they plan to do about it. So many bloodthirsty streaks are painted in those males’ eyes, stamping out the tiredness that lay there only moments before.

Nothing pricks an Illyrian male’s ears up quite like the prospect of a fight.

“The legions from each camp have been carefully selected, and you lucky fuckers will be representing Windhaven.” The Camp Lord continues, disdain dripping from his voice. He wants his men out there training in the cold, not prancing around a dance floor. “Plus-ones are allowed, also, so it might be time to splash out on a pretty gown for whoever is warming your bed these days. The ball is to be held on Starfall, at a neutral venue of the High Lord’s choosing, and I expect you all to make Windhaven — and me — look good. Any questions?”

“Do we actually have to dance?” One male asks, while another one pipes up with, “Will those pricks from Camp Steelshore be there?”

Rhys shuts out the litany of battling voices as he turns a concerned look on Az and Cass. Their expressions mirror his own. Something about this feels…off.

So while he looks like he’s merely lounging against the wall, hands in his pockets, he sends his inner claws spearing straight for Devlon’s mind. He doesn’t give away what he’s doing, not even slightly, as he roots around in the Camp Lord’s thoughts and grabs for his glimpse of the letter. Rhys scans it, drops the thought, and he’s out of Devlon’s mind and straightening himself up before the male can so much as flinch.

“Let’s go.” He tells his friends, and not Devlon nor the males around them seem to care as Azriel and Cassian follow him, the formidable trio traipsing out into the thawing snow, regardless of whether the meeting is over or not.

They’re halfway back to the house, safely out of earshot, when Cassian finally barks, “A ball? What the fuck?”

“At the request of Tathaln Baralas.” Rhys reveals. “That’s what the letter said. He took the idea to my father, and the asshole is humouring him. This has all got to be part of Tathaln’s plan.”

Cassian scowls and spits his disdain at the ground. “Someone needs to drive a poison arrow through that prick’s heart already. I don’t like this one bit.”

“It’s my father’s intentions I’m worried about.” Rhys shakes his head. “Tathaln only has the power that my father gives him. One word from him and this idea could be snuffed out and never mentioned again. And I expected that to be the case. Arrogant as fuck he may be, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll know what a terrible idea this is, and I would have predicted that he’d laugh in Tathaln’s face for mentioning it. I didn’t think he’d actually entertain it…which means—”

“There’s something in it for him.” Azriel finishes.

Rhysand nods. “Every single move and choice my father makes is, ultimately, for his own gain. He would never agree to anything if he weren’t getting something out of it himself. Whatever Tathaln has proposed to him…my father will be using it for his own gain.”

Cassian opens the door to the cottage and strides in, forgetting — as always — to kick the snow from his boots. “What, though?” He asks. “What could Tathaln have that your father could want?”

Rhys shrugs and waves a hand, magic promptly mopping up the wet, melting trail left in Cassian’s wake. “That, I don’t know.”

“So what do we do?” Az watches him closely, trying to read the thoughts on the male’s face. His shadows reach out to him, too. “Are you going to talk to your father? Make him see how ridiculous this idea is?”

“No,” Rhys shakes his head. “There would be no point. I could lay a whole host of truths out to my father, and he’d go against them on ego alone. He must want something badly enough for him to be throwing money into it. This ball won’t be cheap.”

“And it won’t be a ball, either.” Cassian cocks an eyebrow. Roots through the kitchen cupboards for food. “Blood will be spilled. And you can’t dance on blood. I’ve tried. Too slippy.”

Rhys chooses to ignore that little scrap of information. Mostly because he doesn’t doubt it for a second. “I don’t want us to pre-empt anything.” He says. “If I go straight to my father with concerns about any of this, it could blow up in our faces, instead. For the time being, I think we should just…go along with it. Watch it play out, and see what happens. My father is unpredictable. Even I can’t tell you what goes on in his head.”

“I can speak with Kaeda.” Az clears his throat. “See if she’ll tell me anything.”

“You have fun with that.” Cassian mumbles, biting into something. “I’d sooner chop my balls off and nail them to the front door.”

“Such a way with words. It’s no wonder, really, that females fall at your feet.”

Cass shoots him a wicked grin. And this…this is nice. What they’ve both missed. This is normal.

“I’ll keep an eye and ear out for anything.” Rhys drags them back to the subject at hand. “But my father’s good at not letting anyone know things until he wants them to know them. And he’s clearly serious about this.”

Cassian swallows. Takes another bite. “And until then? Until we know what he’s even serious about?”

Violet eyes sparkle with mischief, and one side of Rhysand’s lips tips up. “Until then, boys,” he says, “you’d better practice your dancing.”

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Azriel really hopes she’s not there, but sure enough, when he enters his room at the dorms, Kaeda is sitting up in his bed.

It gives him a little bit of satisfaction to see her look…less than perfect, for once. Her hair is knotted, and even the vibrancy of the red shade seems a little dulled. Her skin is sallow, her eyes bleary. He wonders if she’s as miserable as she currently looks.

She beholds him with a strangely coy look, like she’s waiting for him to rip into her. But if she really knew the shadowsinger, she’d know that that is not his style. He does not shout. He rarely fights physically. His danger lies in his quiet voice and icy stare.

Kaeda’s tired eyes fall to the blanket pooled around her waist, and she murmurs, “You’re angry with me.” Her throat bobs with a swallow. “I understand. But I appreciate you putting me to sleep in here when I was in a vulnerable state.”

“I would have done it for anyone.” Az presses his back against the wall, folding his arms. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The female merely bows her head. Doesn’t bother to argue.

“I have a question.” Azriel then says. “I’d like an answer.”

“I know that Cassian has probably told you about last night, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was drunk and upset and I—”

“I don’t care about that.” He really doesn’t, and it shows on his face. “I want to know what your father is playing at by organising an Illyrian ball. I don’t believe for a second that the gesture is an innocent one.”

She glances down again, but Azriel doesn’t buy the coy act for one moment.

“Kaeda.” His voice is laced with warning. “Tell me.”

“It’s just…a ball. A ball to have all camps in one place, so he can get a good look at what each one has to offer. It’s nothing sinister.”

“So, a chance for him to scout more supporters for his cause.”

“He’s trying to make a change, Azriel. A good one—”

“He’s interfering with lives. Tearing families apart.”

“Good results require difficult choices.” Her voice hardens.

The shadowsinger bites out a cold, brusque laugh, turning away from her. “Mother above, he has you trained well.”

There’s movement behind him. Kaeda is kicking the sheets away and pushing to her feet. And she’s…seething.

“You would laugh in the face of somebody trying to make a positive change?” She snaps. “What reason have you to be so arrogant? At least my father is trying to make a difference. All you’re doing is clinging to a miserable life in a miserable place where you don’t even have a family or home of your own—”

“Except that I do.” Azriel rounds on her so quickly that his wing knocks a fragrance bottle off a shelf. “I may not have your riches, and that’s fine, because I have a group of people — a family I made — who love me enough to care whether or not I come home at night. Who want nothing less for me than happiness and contentedness, and not just to use me as a pawn in some convoluted plan that will do more harm than good. I have reason to be in Windhaven, whether it’s miserable or not. I have love here. So much of it. And there’s nothing — not a damn thing — that would make me turn my back on it.”

Something in his impassioned speech clearly hits a nerve with Kaeda. She goes still.

And she looks…small, despite being fairly tall. She looks…insignificant.

Her eyes fill with tears. One spills over and rolls down her cheek as she whispers, “Please, Azriel.”

Azriel says nothing. Stares at her.

“Please.” She takes a step closer. “I’m not above begging. I…” Her voice cracks. “I need this. I need you to say yes—”

“Your father,” he interrupts quietly, “is playing a very dangerous game. And he’s using you to do it.”

“You don’t understand. I…if I can’t give him what he wants, I’m finished. I’ll have no home to go to, nobody on my side.”

“You already have nobody on your side. You’re his daughter and he’s dangling your livelihood over your head and ready to snatch it away if he doesn’t get what he wants. You’re already finished.”

“Please.” She says again. Tears are streaming, now, and she tries fruitlessly to wipe them away. “Please, just…if this is about Y/N—”

“Do not,” he grits out, “bring her into this.”

“She’s already in this. I know that you want her and not me…that you always have…and that’s fine. Bring her to Fenlaros with you, if you must. I’m sure my father could be persuaded on that. But just…please—”

“You’re not listening, Kaeda. This isn’t just about my family. It’s about all the other families that would be separated, ripped apart by your father’s scheming. He’s power hungry. This is just the beginning of a whole host of self-serving plans that will bring him glory — do not doubt that for a second. People like him are never satisfied, and he needs to be stopped. Not encouraged.”

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is so weak, Az isn’t convinced she believes her own words. “He just wants a better future for Illyria—”

“No.” Az levels her with a pointed look. “He wants a better future for himself. I will not play a part in that, and neither will my loved ones.”

“Azriel, please—”

“I will attend your father’s ball, just as Lord Devlon has ordered me to do.” He breezes to the door, not caring that this is his room he’s leaving her behind in. He stops, palm poised on the handle. “But as for delivering a male straight into your father’s den? You better start trying that seduction on somebody else. Because there is nothing that would make me follow you into that camp.”

He leaves without a glance back. And while it sits uncomfortably inside him that he made a female cry…he can’t help feeling like he’s finally doing the right thing.

About time, too.

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This — this is the last thing you ever would have expected of coming to Velaris.

The tonic you’d needed was an extended amount of girl time with Roza. And yet here you are…in the High Lord’s arms.

“This is useless.” You murmur, aware of every single place your body brushes against his. One of his hands is a firm weight on the small of your back, the other clasping yours. “I’m not a natural dancer. Fuck, I’ve never even been to a dance.”

Fin’s mouth tips up at the corners. “There’s that filthy mouth.” His hand lets go of yours, opting to move up to the cut of your jaw, where he allows his thumb to rest on your lower lip. “You,” the pad of it swipes slowly over your mouth, “are going to be exquisite.”

You square your shoulders. Cock a challenging eyebrow. “Is that genuine encouragement, High Lord? Or an order?”

A deep chuckle. Slowly — reluctantly —he lets his hand drop. “Both.”

Flirting with him like this, playing the part of the High Lord’s pet, is a necessary evil. You’re just so surprisingly good at it that you can’t discern whether it’s an affront to him, or to Roza. Or both.

But you can’t deny that you’ve been flattered by his undivided attention this past week. And perhaps he’s been flattered by yours, too.

Mother bless Roza for her undying support. The best you can do for her, right now, is to keep her in the loop. She merely tells you to be careful.

But a week — a week of cosying up to Fin, of breaking through his exterior and appealing yourself to him. You humour him with these dance lessons, with the preposterously expensive shopping trips and dinners, the late night fireside conversations. Anything, everything, to get him to tell you what truth lies behind the excited glint in his eyes whenever he speaks of the ball. To tell you what it is he’s planning.

Perhaps you’re not appealing enough. You are no more aware than anyone else. And that’s really fucking frustrating.

At least your hard work has kept you from thinking about Azriel every five minutes.

Your breath still heaving from your dance efforts, you make your way over to the table of refreshments by the huge, arcing windows that overlook the city. The High Lord’s palace, you have to admit, is a place you might miss once you’re back in Windhaven. You’ve never been one for luxury, never had more than a few things to your name — but the views are what makes you feel like the richest person in all of Prythian. These are not the cold, barren views of your camp, but a place of such vibrancy, it sometimes makes you want to cry. It’s like the setting of a storybook, laid out right before you.

From behind, slow, graceful footsteps sweep across the wooden floor. Fin comes to a stop so closely behind you that his body heat encases you.

Fingertips make contact with your skin, the back of your neck. The sleeveless tunic you wore for your practice now feels like nothing more than a paper towel.

“You have such beautiful skin.” Fin says roughly, and you tense. So far, this week, he’s kept a respectful distance away. Hasn’t put you in any awkward positions.

You pivot under his touch, pressing your back up against the table enough that his hand drops. It’s not entirely for show as you smile apologetically and tell him, “Sorry — scars.”

Such genuine, slicing rage fills his face. The intensity of it almost knocks you breathless.

“I will kill him.” He says the words like a lover’s promise. “With my bare hands, I will kill him for taking your wings.”

He had the power to stop the practice before you were even born. He is very old — over nine-hundred-years — and very powerful. What he says, goes.

And yet…he means it. You can see it. And perhaps you have seen so much unkindness, such brutality, that little scraps of ferocity, of passion, in your defence, make you a blinded fool.

But a part of him — however small — actually cares about you. Enough to mark your abuser for death.

But your father’s blood will soak your hands, and yours only.

You smile up at him, wickedly, cunningly, prettily. “No, you won’t.” You reply. “Because I will do it first.”

And the fury in his stare simmers immediately to a different sort of heat. Your words are a flirtation to him — a cut of raw meat dangled above a hungry, waiting animal. They make him feel something.

“Such a murderous little thing.” His soft laugh caresses your skin. He sounds pleased — impressed. “I like that. I like it a lot.”

“I would hope so. I am to be your special guest at the ball, after all.” A small voice in your head wants to coax him; tell me what you’re planning, tell me what to expect.

But, as always, he steers the conversation away, a vague, mysterious smile on his face. “Do you like it here in Velaris, my murderess?”

“I do, very much so.”

“I can’t help pondering how much you would thrive here. You were made for so much more than Windhaven. Illyria, even.”

A soft, coy smile — one that comes from deep within that part of you that wants the praise, the compliments — that needs them. “Many would disagree with you.”

“Show them to me, and I will twist their minds until they see in you what I do.”

“And what is it you see in me?” A disingenuous little liar. A good actress. A traitor.

Fin leans down, and for one startling, heart-stopping, stomach-lurching moment, you think his mouth might meet yours.

But his lips brush over your cheek in a tender, barely-there caress. He presses a kiss to the skin before retracting. Straightening himself out. The way he slides his hands into his pockets with casual arrogance reminds you so much of Rhys that you miss your friend instantaneously.

“I see beauty that is unappreciated, and intelligence that is underestimated.” Fin says. “And I see a female that I wouldn’t mind having at my side.” His eyes trace you from head to toe. “I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

No response sits on your tongue. You think you might be too surprised by the genuine praise. The fact that the High Lord actually feels some level of affection towards you.

Maybe you’re not so bad at these games.

He turns without waiting for your response, and only when he’s at the door does he make eye contact with you over his shoulder.

“Keep practicing the dancing, my murderess.” He says. “We’ll make a fine pair at that ball.”

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If Roza weren’t so worried, she might laugh at the three expressions of outrage that meet her when she strolls into the cottage.

Rhysand jumps up immediately and demands, “Did you fly here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

Roza merely rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. “Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch, Rhysand. I’m pregnant — not on my death bed. The babe is fine.”

Her son does not look convinced. Neither do Azriel or Cassian. As if they’re, like, experts on pregnancy, or something.

“What are you doing here, mother?” Rhys stalks straight to the fire and stokes it. Then straight over to the kitchen to make a hot drink. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Mostly.” Roza pauses. “I hope.”

Azriel sits up at that. “Is Y/N alright?”

“She’s fine.” If playing games with the High Lord of the Night Court can be considered fine. Roza eases herself into a seat, and Cassian is promptly propping cushions behind her back. “I want to talk to you about the ball.”

Cass’s lips turn up into a half-smile. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Roz. Promise.”

“You’d better be. Because I want all three of you looking out for Y/N at that ball, do you hear me?”

The command is a firm one, and yet the three males don’t straighten up at her matriarchal tone like they usually do. Instead, they share a puzzled glance, frowns pinching their features.

“It’s a ball for Illyrian soldiers and their guests of choice.” Rhys explains, carrying a steaming mug over to her. “None of us are bringing her along. Not to that.”

“You may not be.” Roza slides a protective hand over her bump. “But your father is.”

All three males go so preternaturally still, it’s almost frightening.

Rhys bites out, quietly, “What?”

“Your father is taking Y/N to the ball as his special guest. He’s bought her a gown, taught her to dance — he’s serious about this.”

“He can’t.” The shadowsinger’s face is like rolling thunder. “He cannot take her there. All those males—”

“That’s precisely why I’m not attending. He needs someone in my place, and he’s taking Y/N.”

“He can choose someone else.” Azriel’s clipped tone, his panic, is not at all personal to Roza. Usually, he would never speak to her in such a way, but—

But this is Y/N they’re talking about. Y/N in the High Lord’s hands, at a ball with so many Illyrian males, too many Illyrian males.

“Watch your tone, Azriel.” Rhys warns, but Roza is holding up a hand. Because she gets it — the panic.

“I’ve tried telling him to take somebody, anybody, else.” She says. “He’s insistent — absolutely adamant that he wants Y/N.”

“But why?” Cassian frowns.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if his kindness to her is genuine or not.” She shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking her bump. “All I know is that he’s taking Y/N to that ball, and I’m not going to be there. You know, Rhysand, that there is no changing your father’s mind once it’s set. I need the three of you to look out for her.”

Because Y/N is just as much a daughter to Roza as the little girl growing in her belly. They know that.

Rhys inclines his head, reaching out to place a hand over Roza’s. “We will, mother.” He promises. “Whatever game he’s playing…we’ll look after Y/N.”

Roza’s eyes dart to Azriel, to Cassian. “Do you promise?”

“We promise.” Cassian, unfazed as always, grins. “You just focus on the little one, Roz.”

Azriel’s face is grave, but he nods once. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”

Y/N is in good hands with them, Roza knows. She may even be in good hands with Fin, depending on what his true intentions are. Perhaps being at the High Lord’s side is the safest place she can be. It’s an unknown.

But one thing Azriel does know, as he wishes and wishes for this damn ball to just be over already, is that he’s wracked with guilt.

He can’t help feeling like it’s his fault — that his actions, his behaviour, chased Y/N right into a viper’s den.

That he’ll stop at nothing to get her out of it.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

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moonit3 · 4 months

Text

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ❉ TWO FOR ONE ❉ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

➽ context warnings: yandere themes, noncon, teasing (like the male yandere touches your genitalia, but isn’t explicitly which type of genitalia) (receiving), blackmailing, cursed words, public sex, non consensual recording, isolation, gaslighting, unwanted touching, implied male masturbation, forced undressing (from reader’s part), implied future marking on reader.

➽ word count: 1.6k

➽ synopsis: coming back home for the summer break wasn’t the brightest idea, not when two people came to see you after giving you the worse experience of your life.

➽ yandere! twins x gn! reader

➽ a/n: it took a while, didn’t it? honestly it is my fault as i got many ideas for this one and write it over and over and over. but today i bring you this piece with not on, but two yanderes! also, keep in mind there is no romance between the twins (no incest at this blog!) , rather them working together to have reader to become their since they share. enjoy today writing, my dear! and happy christmas to those who celebrate, if not a happy Monday!

returning to your hometown feels nostalgic, seeing relatives that keep bothering you about how you still don’t have a significant other get you a little uncomfortable, but still nice to hear they carry about your lonely when away from them.

hearing about their life makes you wonder how the town changed when you were away, former classmates are already married while others started working overseas. it’s sounds amazing to see that everyone is following their life and you hope the two people you have in mind have changed, but you don’t want to seem them anymore…however you didn’t expected mother to invited them.

kai and kori, twins who were once your best friends from kindergarten and throughout high school. your family love them and the people from the town see them as the most beloved, however that doesn’t change the fact that you distance yourself from them when you went to study abroad and they are the main reason you choose to go to college somewhere far away from here.

their presence at your parents’ home makes you feel uneasy, everyone is laughing with them and happy about having two childhood friends of your around. nonetheless, when family went to rest after finish cleaning the dishes, you were forced by the twins to go outside with them.

sitting underneath the large tree, kai lays his head down at your shoulder with his hand caressing your hair while kori doesn’t want to leave your lap no matter what, although she is aware that your legs are getting numb anytime soon.

“a-ah, could you guys please let it go away from me?” you can’t move away from them, not when they are purposefully pressing their weight on you. “for real…i-i don’t…ugh…want to b-be around the t-two of you!”

instead of a reply, you hear kai snoring on your shoulder and your eyes observe kori drooling at your lap, luckily she isn’t dirtying your pants. however, that doesn’t change how your body is negatively reacting to them.

cold sweat dirtying your hair, body trembling whatever kori’s head got heavier in your lap or when kai’s grip got tighter, resulting in whines coming out of your mouth. they are pretending to be asleep to not let you go away from their touch, even though they are awake of your uncomfortable state.

the breeze hitting your face makes your skin crawl, going inside home to stay away from them and laying down with the fluffiest blankets are the ideal, in fact, coming home was the worse idea. your mind begs for you to get up and ran away and don’t look back at them. however with twins holding you down, your body fails to get away from them.

trembling and shaking of fear, you were ready to panic and call for help to the people inside home. yet, that never happened when kai’s hands reached for your neck and it brought you to unconscious instantly.

“one day, you will have to choose one of us, you know?” kori’s words haunted you. always whispering you that whatever she and kai came home to play with you, making you feel awkwardly around her. “and I know you are going to choose me~”

her smile, despite being a gentle one, often making you apprehensive about the mask she wears in for the people who come around. everyone sees her as the embodiment of perfection, a girl who stolen the heart of many and yet, she rejects them over and over. her heart already having an unwilling owner, you.

throughout high school, she forced convinced you to enroll in the same classes, always sitting close to you with hand closer to your body. her intentions were clear: isolating you from the rest of the students, preventing them from befriending you and leaving no chance from leaving her. after all, in her twisted mind, she is the only one who deserves your friendship.

when the class graduate, you thought it would the end from kori’s influence on your life with you leaving to attend a college overseas and she would study at the local one in the town. however, things didn’t go as planned when she made you come to a dinner at her house, with her family and most importantly, her twin brother.

you’d never really spoken to kai, not directly though. most of the time, his response were limited to nod and hum when you tried to talk with him. his silence attitude towards you made it hard to read him, making his presence enigmatic and slightly uncomfortable.

the first directly interaction with kai happened during a dinner before you left the town. he took the seat next to you, while kori settled in front of you with that classic smile of her. their parents discussed the result of their college admission exams, happy to have both been accepted into the local university. however, you couldn’t be happier, not when the twins’ presence made you uneasy.

amidst the family dinner, kori and kai were touching your body underneath the table, your discomfort being hide by the tablecloth.

below your fake smile, kai’s finger reaches the fly of your jeans and zipped down, ignoring the whines and protests coming out from your lips when his parents weren’t paying attention at you. behind his stoic face, he couldn’t be happier by feeling your lower area, taking his time to explore your sensitive genitalia.

when you felt one of his digit teasing the head of your genitalia, your immediately met kori’s eyes, ready to beg her to kick her brother’s leg with her high heels or do something to help you get out of this situation, but she didn’t. instead of being a helpful friend like you hope she should, her nailed hands reaches for her phone, already recording your violation under the tablecloth.

the dinner ended earlier when you gained enough courage to step up, ignoring the confuse looks from their parents when tears came out of your eyes, both asking if you were okay. you didn’t replied —instead, you quickly left their house in the middle of the night to never visit their house again.

unanswered calls from the twins, messages full of threats they would release the videos without your consent and how it would ruin your life if you didn’t obey them.

“what do you think your parents would tell you? seeing you being touched by kai so intimately and whining like a bitch?” kori was the most meaner between them, always sending those voice mail full of cursed words and calling you names that no one should. her status of being a popular girl around the town result in you become a outsider to everyone else, rumors of you being mean and rude to her made you become the evil person in the story. “you are going to willingly come crawling back to me. i know you will, after all, you are nothing without me.”

“you did like it. don’t be stupid, [name].” there was profanity sound in the missed call, his voice falling sometimes with wet sounds between his words. “a-actually, why don’t you come home? it been a while since you visit me and i-i really need to—fuck! i-i need to f-feel you…” it easy to say that you blocked their numbers after a while, completely hopelessly they would apologize for it.

the idea of going to the police and report them was your plan, but whatever you step closer to the station with the courage to speak out always ended when they started sending the video from unknown numbers and recently taken photos of you. realizing they were watching you daily, your couldn’t bare to tell the police about the incident nor anyone else, after all, who would have believed you?

when a letter from a college overseas accepting your request, you didn’t waste any second and left the town in the middle of the night, only saying goodbye to your parents. you wouldn’t never return to this place, no one sane would, but hearing mother and father begging you to visit them during the summer break hurt your heart, so you came home for just a day or so.

however, you never expect to them inviting the two people responsible for the greatest tragedy of your life.

as your nightmares dissolve into a realm of consciousness, a source coming from the blinding light of kori’s phone jerks you away from a deep sleep and you couldn’t understand why she is doing it.

with your vision slowly adjusting to the dark sky and the camera flash, you realize that kai was holding you restraint at his lap and your arms tied behind your back. a duct tape covering your lips, preventing you from screaming for help like the previous time.

“you are doing great, my love.” his breath at your neck makes you nauseous, it doesn’t help when you realize that you are nude in his lap. there is nothing covering your genitalia and nothing to hide your face from the photos. “after this, we will go somewhere more comfortable to take more photos, okay?”

his words doesn’t comfort you, it only make you struggle more for freedom when another picture is taken of you. this time kori is more closer to you, but not to take a photo of you like you expected, rather she just smiles at you.

her eyes stares into yours, making you unable to face another direction when her presence comes into your mind. it’s unbearable, but you have no options than following her eyes going down at your thigh, is she planning something?

“i think this will be the perfect place to mark you, [name]. so anyone who dares to touch you will see who truly owns you.”

@moonit3 writings

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 6 months

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 8) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Angst; Arguing/Fighting; Some Crying; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake tell Bradley about the baby.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. Two chapters in one week! Hope that you guys enjoy Bradley’s reaction!

A pin could have dropped in that moment and it would have sounded like a bomb went off in Maverick’s house. It was that silent.

Bradley’s face was slowly growing red with anger, though he didn’t open his mouth. Yet. After a brief staring contest with your brother, you pulled Jake further into the house. Bradley was burning holes into Jake’s head and Jake was returning the sharp look with a sense of defiance that was not going to be productive in the long run.

You glanced up at Emma, who was staring at her husband with concern, and then Maverick, who was looking between Rooster and Hangman, like he was waiting for one of them to jump at each other. Holding in your emotions and trying to keep up a face of calm despite the tension, you turned back to your brother.

“Bradley,” you started off with carefully, “you can stop glaring at Jake now.”

“So, the whole ‘nothing is going on between us’ was a big fat lie then?” Bradley asked rhetorically, turning to look at you.

“Maybe we were worried that you would be hostile to the news,” you commented in return, staring down your brother for a moment. When he scoffed at your answer, you added, “Clearly we were wrong.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Bradley continued, causing you to purse your lips together.

“No, it’s not. It’s real.”

Bradley turned to Maverick, who turned to him with a rather stoic expression. Maverick glanced over at you and Jake, not judging but not necessarily overly supportive either, before turning back to Bradley. Frowning, Bradley turned back to you and Jake, who hadn’t moved to release your hand.

“And when the hell did this start?”

“Around the time that you guys got back from your last deployment,” you lied, taking the lead on the questions.

“You’ve been hiding this for five months?”

“More or less.”

“More or less?�� Bradley repeated with an attitude.

“Should we start dinner then?” Emma cut in, grabbing her husband’s shoulder with a sharp squeeze. “Before it gets cold?”

“Yes,” you agreed with Emma.

“Great,” she replied, walking around and quickly grabbing all of the knives off of the table in quick succession. “We won’t be needing these today.”

The five of you sat down at the table and passed around dinner. Rooster continued to glare at Jake and Jake was very happy to return the glare. Maverick kept an eye on them as he was sitting in between them, but you weren’t fully convinced that nothing would happen.

Jake and Bradley had a history of being volatile around each other, and you just raised the stakes. And you were only going to raise them even higher.

“Aren’t you going to ask us how we met, Brad?” you questioned, causing your brother to turn to shoot you a look.

“Of all of my teammates, of all of my squads, of all the guys in the fucking world, you had to pick him?” Bradley scoffed, gesturing to Jake, who narrowed his eyes at Rooster’s comment. “The only one that I specifically told you to stay away from.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” you replied, returning your brother’s look.

“Did you ever think that maybe there was a reason why I told you to stay away from him?”

“Am I not allowed to make my own decisions? Am I not allowed to have my own opinions on people?” you scoffed, leaning forward in your seat. “And just because someone has a problem with you, that doesn’t mean that they have a problem with me too.”

“Fine, then I’ll ask you, Seresin,” Bradley stated, turning to Jake, “Why, out of all of the girls in Miramar, were you going after my sister?”

“Why did you go after Emma?” Jake asked rhetorically. “We found each other attractive and we had some stuff in common.”

“What the hell could you possibly have in common?”

“We both think that you’re overreacting right now, to start off with,” Jake replied, causing Maverick to sigh and reach for his beer.

“And what’s your favorite trait of my sister?” Bradley asked, narrowing his eyes. “Since you know her so well.”

“She takes what life throws at her and keeps moving forward with her chin up. She doesn’t let anyone or anything slow her down for too long.”

Emma nodded, quite honestly looking impressed with Jake’s answer, while Bradley only continued to glare at Jake. You quietly let your heart flutter a bit in your chest but you kept your gaze on the ground. Maverick, glancing between Jake and Bradley, decided to take the lead for a moment.

“When did you two actually meet and get together then?”

“We met for the first time at Brad and Emma’s wedding,” you started off with, sharing a look with Jake as you reached for your water. “But we didn’t really talk too much.” It wasn’t too big of a lie, but maybe a stretch of the truth. “Then we talked a lot the night that you guys came back from your last deployment and started going out a little while after that.”

“Well, I have to ask,” Rooster drawled sarcastically, “who made the first move?”

“I did,” you replied simply.

“You did?” Bradley and Maverick asked at the same time, both looking surprised.

“Yes.”

“You did?” Bradley repeated.

“Are you going deaf?” you countered, straightening up more. “Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Bradley,” Emma sighed, rubbing her face.

“Because I was attracted to him,” you explained, not quite having the courage to look over at Jake while you spoke. “Is that a crime?”

“No, it’s not,” Emma replied to your defense.

“It’s a concern,” Bradley stated, earning a look from his wife.

“Anyways,” you cut in, “we’re dating and we’re going to move in together.”

You hoped that breaking it piece by piece would help ease Bradley’s reaction and avoid an explosion. And you really just hoped that your calculations weren’t too far off.

“You’re moving—do you even know him!?” Bradley snapped, causing you to roll your eyes at him and lean back in your seat. “You can’t just move in with a guy you just met!”

“We’ve known each other for over a year and we’ve been dating for a few months,” you replied calmly. “It’s not like we’re teenagers who don’t know what we’re doing.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes,” you snapped back defensively.

“Who’s apartment?” Maverick asked, causing you to turn to him.

“Jake’s for now,” you stated, glancing at Jake from the corner of your eye.

“Why?” Bradley scoffed.

“It’s nicer and my lease is up first.”

“Why the rush?” Bradley pressed on, feeling that something was off with the whole situation.

“When you know, you know,” you replied, dodging the question.

“That's a bullshit answer.”

“It’s still an answer,” you scoffed right back at your brother.

“Who’s idea was that then? The whole moving in together one?”

“Mine,” Jake answered honestly.

“Of course, it was,” Bradley replied, finding some new ammunition against Jake. “And why did you—the guy who told me at Coyote’s bachelor party that he wasn’t the type to settle down and have the ‘white picket fence’ life—suggest that the two of you should move in together after dating for five months?”

“Bradley,” you snapped, though it lacked substantial force behind it.

You weren’t sure if the comment that Bradley was referring to actually came out of Jake’s mouth or if he actually meant it, but either way it was taking you a moment to process. You did the math and remembered that Coyote’s bachelor party was during the time where you were ignoring Jake. Maybe that had a role in it? But you didn’t want to dwell on it in front of your brother and Mav. You had to stay focused.

“And how long was your most serious relationship again, Hangman? Last you told me, it wasn’t even a year.”

“Stop being a dick, Bradley,” you replied, this time with more force.

“Honestly, do you really think that this is going to last?” Bradley directed at you, causing you to narrow your eyes. “Where do you see this relationship actually going?”

“Why don’t you just wait and see, Rooster?” Jake drawled, drawing Bradley’s glare to him. “Because I’m pretty sure that she can figure out what’s right for her.”

“Or what’s right for you?” Bradley countered. “Because those are two different things, Seresin.”

“Bradley,” Emma called, trying to ease the tension a bit more, “let her make her own choices. You telling her that it’s a bad idea isn’t going to lead to the result that you want.”

“Thank you, Emma,” Jake spoke up, causing Bradley to roll his eyes dramatically.

“You seriously think that you see a long-term future with him? Like marriage? Kids? All of that shit?” Bradley questioned you again.

“Yes, I do,” you spoke so quietly that no one really heard you.

“What?”

“Yes, I do,” you said louder despite the fact that your leg was starting to nervously bounce.

“You’re serious?” Bradley demanded of you, almost scoffing in disbelief. “You didn’t marry Connor and you were with him for five years and you’re telling me that you’ve spent what? A couple of months with Hangman? And you can already see a long-term future with him? That you’re already moving in with him? Really?”

“Bradley,” Emma warned him.

“You’re such a fucking asshole!” you snapped, getting to your feet.

Maverick called your name, trying to keep the peace, but you ignored him. Tossing your napkin down onto the table with a huff, you rounded on your brother.

“And you wonder why I don’t tell you shit! Stop acting like you’re a goddamn saint, Bradley! You’re not! You never have been! I’m not the only one who can mess up! We’re both screw ups! We’re both fucked in the head! And Mom would be so proud of us and how we turned out, wouldn’t she!?”

Letting the tension roll off of your shoulders, you slowly sank down into your seat, the reality of your words hitting you. Not because you felt bad about what you yelled at your brother, but because of where your thoughts suddenly landed.

Staring down at your hands for a second, you tried to discreetly wipe the tears that leaked from your eye before they got too far. Rubbing a tear between your finger and thumb, you felt Jake’s hand on your thigh, silently reminding you that he was there.

You hadn’t really dwelled on how your mom would have reacted to the news about the baby, if she was still alive. You didn’t let yourself, actually.

After your mom died and definitely after Bradley left you behind with Maverick while he figured out his own life, you really buried all of that. You didn’t let yourself think about what your mom would have said or thought in these situations. You locked it all up and buried the key.

She would have had an opinion, certainly. She probably would have had some sharp words with a sweet Southern coating that would have struck far more fear into Jake than anything that Bradley could throw at him. But she was the type to give a hug out as quickly as a threat, so you assumed that all would have been forgiven once she knew he was serious.

And you realized with a shaking hand that you desperately wanted your mom there with you. She didn’t even get to see you in a prom dress or have a crush, for hell’s sake.

Sharing a glance with Jake, who looked concerned for you, you slowly turned back to Bradley. Your brother’s anger was gone for now, his expression mirroring Jake’s own concerned one. But you had a feeling that you would see the anger slowly seep into his gaze again shortly.

“You want to know what’s really going on?” you asked, staring down at your hands.

“Of course, I do,” Bradley replied immediately.

“Alright,” you began. Picking up your head, you locked eyes with your brother. “I’m pregnant.”

“You . . .” Bradley paused, looking like his brain short circuited for a moment. “You’re . . .”

“Yes,” you confirmed, nodding slowly.

You got up from the table and grabbed your purse. Rifling around, you pulled out your ultrasound photo and moved to hand it over to Bradley. He took it carefully, still stunned, and when he saw your name stamped in the margin of the photo, he knew that it was true.

It wasn’t a joke—you were pregnant with Jake’s baby.

You held your breath a bit, waiting for him to react and gripped the back of the seat tightly as you stayed standing. You could also see Maverick and Jake on the edges of their seats, waiting for his reaction. Bradley silently held out the ultrasound photo to Emma, who took it from him carefully, before turning back to Jake.

And then you saw the flash.

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley roared, leaping to his feet.

Chairs clattered and scratched against the floor as Jake and Maverick jumped to their feet too. Emma was yelling after her husband and you were calling after Jake, though when you moved to grab him, Emma pulled you back a step. Maverick put himself in between Bradley and Jake, keeping them separated with a hand on each of their chests.

Rooster was boiling with rage, looking madder than a bull, and Jake appeared firm in the fact that he wasn’t going to back down. Maverick certainly had his work cut out for him.

“You got my little sister pregnant, Seresin!?”

“And your little tantrum doesn’t change that!”

“I don’t care, you fucking bastard!”

“Bradley, stop!”

“Do you even love her!?” Bradley demanded from Jake. “Do you even care about her!?”

“Of course, I care about her!”

“Then why did you get her pregnant!?”

“I didn’t mean to do it, it was just something that happened!”

“Bradley, stop it!” you shouted at your brother. “Jake!”

“Are you even going to stay around to meet the kid or are you going to leave them hanging?”

“Bradley!”

“Both of you need to sit down now,” Maverick snapped, somehow managing to hold them apart. “You’re stressing her out!”

“He’s the one stressing her out!” Jake scoffed, glaring at Bradley. “She’s been worried about you reacting like a toddler for weeks!”

“Jake!”

“She’s stressed because you knocked her up, you moron!”

“Bradley, stop it!”

“Sit down!” Maverick snapped, but neither Bradley nor Jake seemed to be willing to back down.

“You’re not her fucking protector! She’s an adult, Rooster, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know her and I know that I’ll be the one consoling her when your ass gets cold feet, Seresin!”

“ENOUGH!”

The argument stopped immediately and everyone turned to where Emma was standing at the other end of the table. She certainly wasn’t the most imposing woman, but she had the ability to make her voice thunder across the room. And if her voice didn’t strike fear in them, her glare definitely did.

“Now!”

Though he didn’t look happy about it, Bradley stepped back from Maverick and begrudgingly retook his seat. When Jake didn’t move from where he was standing, Emma pointed aggressively at his chair and wore an expression that screamed ‘try me bitch.’ Letting out a quiet mutter, Jake sat back down in his chair.

“Now, the two of you are going to sit down and have a conversation like adults because you’re two grown ass men and not children.” Turning to Rooster first, Emma asked, “Is your support for your sister or your niece or nephew going to change depending on who the baby’s dad is?”

“Of course not,” Rooster replied defensively. “In this case, it’s only increasing it actually.”

“And Hangman, are you going to let what Bradley thinks about you change how you feel about her or the baby?”

“Absolutely not,” Jake stated, staring down Rooster with a challenging expression.

“Good, so you can both agree that your first priority is making sure that she and the baby are happy and healthy?” With sharp nods from Jake and Bradley, Emma continued, “Good. Now figure your shit out like adults.”

“Thank you,” you breathed out, pulling her in for a tight hug that she quickly returned.

“Anytime.”

Emma gave you a tight hug, shooting both Bradley and Jake a look to be on their best behavior. Jake eventually let out a quiet chuckle as he turned back to Rooster.

“Guess we know who wears the pants in your relationship,” Jake commented with a smirk, causing Maverick to shake his head.

“I’d look to your right there, Hangman.”

Jake turned his head to find you shooting him a sharp look. Emma laughed to herself when Jake suddenly appeared sheepish about his comment.

Rooster rolled his eyes again and looked at his hands, actually taking the time to process the news. He turned to share a look with Maverick before looking over at you, to find that you were looking at him with a quietly terrified expression as you clung to Emma for a moment. Letting out a breath, he slowly got to his feet. He walked around the table towards you, completely ignoring Jake, and stopped a few steps away from you.

Emma released you and moved to put herself in between Bradley and Jake, just in case. Bradley gave you a moment before he swallowed his annoyance and his pride and focused on your happiness for the first time since he found out about the whole situation. Though he also didn’t want to completely lie and pretend like he was overjoyed with the news.

“The storage unit,” Bradley began, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“What about it?”

“It has the old paintings that Mom made,” Bradley continued, earning a slow nod in return from you. “From our old nursery.”

“I remember,” you agreed quietly. “I triple wrapped them myself so that they’d be preserved.”

“Did you want them? For you and . . . your baby?” Bradley offered after a few more moments of silence and tension.

You nodded slowly, starting to tear up again, when Bradley reached forward. Pulling you into a hug, Bradley rested his head on top of your own as you let out a few tears into his shirt. It reminded him of when you were little and he’d comfort you when a storm struck or when you were scared for your mom. He gave you a squeeze that you returned silently.

“You’re going to be a mom,” he replied quietly.

“You’re going to be an uncle,” you returned in the same tone.

“You know I’m here if you need anything. Emma too. We’re both here for you and the baby. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I’m not.”

Bradley opened his mouth, but when he saw Emma’s look, he closed it. While your face was still tucked into Bradley’s shoulder, he looked over at where Jake was still sitting at the table. Did Jake look thrilled? No, definitely not. But he didn’t look completely irate when he met Bradley’s gaze. Bradley, however, did not hide the fact that he still wanted to punch Jake in the face for what he did.

“Whatever you need,” Bradley repeated as he and Jake glared at each other.

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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months

Text

[Nightmares of past misadventures continue to haunt you. In desperation for comfort and a full night's sleep, you seek out the only person capable of calming your mind - Halsin.]

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You're startled awake.

Gasping and coughing, you try to control your laboured breathing but the tension inside your chest renders you choking.

It was all a dream, a vision made up entirely by your brain. All of the scenes were mere reflections of what you've been through. None of it happened the way you'd dreamed.

And yet your hands are shaking.

The insidious whispers from your nightmare ring in your ears like an echo: It's your fault. This is all because of you.

Each rustle of the forest trees or a branch broken in the distance makes you jump. Shaking pines sound like the sinister laughter of something too old to be remembered even by nature. The shadows surrounding the camp seem darker and more vigorous as though they have a mind of their own. They lean over you, elongating and reaching to swallow you whole.

Laying on the bedroll, in front of the campfire, you feel more than exposed to whatever strange entities might reside in the woods.

Tears of fear are pooling in your eyes as your breath quickens again. You have to fight your own body to move it.

As your frightened mind focuses on finding a source of safety, your legs are already guiding you in the direction of Halsin's tent. Considering his strange sleeping hours, he's probably still awake.

Not having much care for etiquette in your current state, you call out for Halsin while already lifting the flap entrance. He's lying on his side on top of the bedroll. Judging by his attentive, open eyes, you really didn't disturb his sleep. He's half-naked, even on a chilly night like this.

"You're awake," Halsin says. It's hard to say whether he's asking or stating a rather obvious fact.

"Yes, about that..." you hung your raspy voice. On the one hand, you know that he probably won't mind but don't on the other, it's still mighty embarrassing to tell him why you've come. Isn't it childish to look for comfort in someone after being startled by your own imagination? "Would you mind if I slept with you?" you ask hesitantly. Your voice is breaking, reminding you of the inexplicable dread still residing in your abdomen. "I just- I don't want to be alone. Not tonight."

A deep lion's wrinkle appears between Halsin's eyebrows. His expression, normally quite polite, falls into something more tense and sombre. He's worried.

"Come to me," he says in a soft voice.

Obediently, you lay next to him. A strong arm wraps around you protectively, pulling you close against Halsin's body. He's warm, excessively so. Your face nuzzles into his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat inside his ribcage. As the druid's shoulders rise and fall in slow, relaxed breaths, you feel yours becoming less laboured.

"Thank you." Your whisper is barely audible, even in the dead of night.

"I'm glad to be the one you've sought out in the moment of need."

He doesn't let up his tight hold around you while you stir to look up at him. The sombre tension that crowned Halsin's face is now mostly gone, residing only in his bright eyes. It seems that despite dissipating his initial worry, the druid remains wary, prepared for your inexplicable fear to come back at any moment. As much as you appreciate the fact that he's not enquiring about what exactly had sent you into panic, you know that he very much desires to know - only then can he aid.

"Of course, I did, Halsin," you answer. For a moment you recall how your legs guided you towards him, although your consciousness had been plunged into chaos. Some primal part of you thought him your guardian, saviour. "It's always you."

The druid takes a sudden deep inhale as if your confession stirred something vulnerable deep inside him. Is this what being loved feels like? Feeling sunshine on your skin after a cold, winter night? Or seeing your favourite painting for the first time again and again?

"Then I'll always be there, mo chroi. Whenever you need me."

Halsin's oath is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. Little did you know but he stayed awake for quite some time after that. Partially because he revelled in the sensation of holding you close and in part awaiting for the terror to strike again, startling you awake once more.

But that moment never came.

Instead, restful sleep has found you, washing away the tender taint left by your nightmare.

___

mo chroi - "my heart" (Irish Gaelic). Dude is a druid, Gaelic fits him like a glove

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cry4mina · 11 days

Text

Death of Peace of Mind - Part 2 - Sugar

(Dom!Momo x fem!reader)

Death of Peace Of Mind - Part 1

Word Count: 3.6k

Filth, this is PURE filth/a fluffy moment or two

Summary: Momo wants seconds and you’re completely at her mercy.

TW: THIS IS AGGRESSIVE SEX. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE BOTHERED BY THE FOLLOWING: Degradation, Bondage, slapping, biting, overstimulation, mommy kink (please let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: YAY OMG 200 FOLLOWERS WOW

Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported my works, everyone who has reached out and all the moots! <333 I did not think I’d be getting this much attention, so please know that I’m so grateful for every single one of you!

@nr1chaedickrider scheming with me for this one too so make sure u show chaepookums some love! Thanks again for bouncing ideas back and forth with me!

And of course all the moots who yelled at me to finish this lmaoooo

Fully prepared for the anons to go feral again.

Enjoy! :)

——

Shuffling and the sound of the shower turning on wake you from the deep sleep, the ache between your legs still very present, radiating not only desire but pure soreness from how rough Momo was with you.

A small whine and sleepy pout leaves your lips when you feel the bed dip back down next to you, hands gripping your face and a few light kisses scattering your cheeks as you furrow your brows.

“I’d rather your mouth somewhere else,” groggily leaves your lips as you fall in and out of sleep again.

“You’re lucky you got what you did last night.” scoff echoing in your ears, still holding your face and halfway pinching your cheeks to get you to pay attention.

“Was I?” Muffled through the haze, eyes still chasing the dreamscape as you lean into her hands. Lightly placing your head on the pillow, you can imagine the sneer she’s got painted across her face.

Momo gets up, “You are so ungrateful…” tone pointed as she heads to the bathroom, shower already anticipating her.

The static of the water and calmness of the room allowed you to slip back into your dreams of Momo throwing you around the way she did the night before.

—

Flashes of the night before present, rolling around with Momo in your shared sheets. Her sitting so close to your face- cunt dripping. pulling you up by your restraints and pounding the life out of you, sends aches through your body.

Aware of being in a dream space and happily reliving the memories when you felt something warm between your legs, taunting you. Heated breathes on your thighs, a familiar wetness between your folds, and the sensation of nails trailing around your hips.

Groggily whimpering and opening your eyes, your vision blurred by the half-sleep you were just getting. Attempting to stretch in your dazed state when you’re immediately halted by the cold unfamiliar feeling of metal around your ankles.

“Momo?” Breathlessly uttered, peering down to find her between your legs, ankles cuffed to the frame, chains taut to keep you from moving too much. Your muscle memory activates, reaching for her hair, only to find them connected to the bed frame in the same way your ankles were, metal pressed against the fragile skin of your wrists.

A gasp leaves your lips, eyes finally focus to reveal Momo between your legs tracing patterns on your clit with her tongue, just enough pressure to tease, looking at you with amused eyes when you finally realize what’s happening.

The punishment wasn’t last night…it was right now.

Mouth switching to a single pointer finger, imitating the pressure of what was once in its place. Half-lidded eyes make contact with yours, mirroring the lust you seeped from your pores, glistening in soreness and aching for more.

“I don’t think you made enough of a mess for me last night, baby. Let me show you why you won’t do that again'' calm in tone and aggressive with movements as she leans down and sucks on your pussy harshly. Still swollen from last night, attempting to writhe underneath her at how overstimulated you felt.

“Baby, please! Fuck fuck fuck!” bolts of lightning travel through your core, immediately setting a fire into the room as you attempt to pull away from the intense wave of pleasure hitting you all at once barely any build up.

Holding you down by your hips firmly as she works her tongue into you, moaning directly into your pussy as she sucks and laps at you, only to pull away quickly once you’ve finished, standing up and walking over to the side of the bed.

“You know the word, right?” breaking character for a moment to check in with you to make sure you knew you could stop this at any time.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your body, gasping as you weakly nod your head towards her, still trying to blink the rest out of your eyes and recover from the wave of overstimulation placed within you.

This was the permission she knew she had, before asking. An evil grin forms on her face as she starts chuckling at you, slowly dragging her finger down your body as she makes her way back down to her place between your legs.

Twitching under her touch as she lightly scratches down your body, unable to keep still when she reaches your core. Too sensitive to even pretend you have any sense of brattiness in you.

“Pathetic…have nothing to say back now?” cocking her head to the side and giving you a glare that made you tense up. She swings her hand down, a solid slap on your clit makes you jolt.

“Awh, does my little whore need something?” a smack to your pussy causes you to yelp and squirm underneath her powerful gaze still chuckling at how desperate you are.

Holy shit. She really wasn’t going to cut you any slack, was she?

Crawling up your body slowly, harshly biting her way up your chest to your neck just to whisper in your ear, “I’m going to make sure you know your place, princess.”

Roughly biting the side of your neck, brutally pinches your nipples, tugging them in a way that would still cause pain even if they weren’t already sore from the previous night.

Wailing at her every touch, she continues to laugh at the anguish you were experiencing, knowing full well that you started this. You were the reason it was even happening.

Moving to straddle your thighs, reaching her hand down and running her middle finger up your slit again to see how much you were enjoying what she was putting you through.

“Oh? Do you enjoy the consequences of your actions? How cute.” pressing her slick covered finger against her thumb, only to pull them apart to see the string that connects her digits together.

Pulling at your restraints again as she licks her fingers clean, making eye contact with you as she does so just to get a reaction, which was you clenching around nothing. Oh, she wants you dead.

“You won’t be getting out of those cuffs, princess. Don’t you understand what you’ve done?” a condescending tone glitters her words as she slides the familiar strap, the one you regularly used, on and tightens it to her waist. You notice there was nothing attached to the other side of it.

This was purely to punish you, she might get some pleasure from her clit rubbing against the leather of the harness but this was solely about you. Your wants. Your needs. What you had instigated last night…you were going to get full force today.

She shimmies her hand underneath you, placing a pillow folded in half under your ass to angle your hips up to the perfect spot for hers to connect.

“You’re going to take what I give you, my desperate little bitch,” spitting into her hand and stroking the strap, smearing her saliva all over it. Oh god, she really wanted you dead.

Legs too far apart to push your thighs together for friction especially with the elevation, trying to squeeze them together despite Momo being between them. You’re at her mercy and hoping that she’ll be nice enough to let you walk out of this bedroom with the ability to speak in coherent sentences. A lovely passing thought.

Scooting closer to you, her knees on either side of your hips, arms hooked underneath your legs as she glides the tip of the strap over your sensitive folds, stinging in sweet bliss as it passes up and down.

“Mmmph…fuck, Momo…please” a hand swings across your chest, smacking your already sore breast hard enough to have you squealing underneath her touch.

“Do you want to try that again?” Another smack to the other tit, another gasp, goosebumps so spread over every part of your skin, nipples hard at the sharp pain that laid into you.

“Mommy…I’m sorry, please…I need you” begging for some kind of release and forgiveness. She has you right where she wants you. Helpless, dripping, and begging.

Momo lets out a laugh and sighs, shaking her head and tsking at you disapproval evident. Her hands reach for your chest, flinching under her while trying to rock your hips in rhythm with the strap grinding into you just enough to cause a persistent ache, slowly building you up again.

“Look at you, my pathetic little slut. Pitiful. So reactive to my touch.” thrusting the toy against you again, tears almost spilling as the knot starts to tighten, needing something more to satiate.

“Fuck” moaned out, trying to arch your back to scoot closer to the pleasure, the only thing that fills your mind, completely taken over by lust as you try to shift your weight into to her. Whine after whine vocalized through a primal urge, pulling at your restraints to try to bring yourself closer to her. Maybe she’ll take the hint.

“Do you want to test me now, my love?” pouted back at you, slapping the strap softly against your swollen pussy. Taunting you, testing you to see how reactive you could get. It was working.

You lurch forward, only to be stopped by the restraints, about 5 inches from Momo’s face, continuing to maneuver the strap over your slit. Your arms are behind you at an angle, shaking as you try to hold yourself up long enough to challenge her dominance.

The intensity of pure lust in her eyes was palpable, intensely thick as she took in your state. Sweaty, whining, heavily breathing, and eager movements gave you away; not that you had the willpower to hide them considering the position you were in.

Suddenly Momo gets up, practically sprinting to the nightstand drawer, pulling it open and grabbing keys before hastily returning to the foot of the bed, and undoing the cuffs around your ankles. Who’s needy now?

Just as you’re about to move, she grabs you and folds you where she wants you. Legs tucked up over her shoulders, strap against your heat, and Momo nipping at your chest. You’re about to explode as she grinds up against your pussy again, torturing you just a little more before she fully commits and bottoms out in you instantly.

Stars cloud your vision and she starts a slow pace, almost slamming into you as you feel the sensitivity from the night prior deep within you. Finally getting the feeling you wanted, losing yourself in the haze of pleasure with Momo on top of you, grunting as she starts to pick up her pace, ever so slightly.

“You don’t cum until I say so, if i even let you, got it?” nodding your head knowing that you won’t be able to hold off much longer if she keeps up what she’s been doing. You practically begged her to behave this way weeks ago and you were finally getting what you wanted.

“Dirty fucking slut. -grunt- Do you really think someone else can fuck you like this?” One of her hands comes up to find its place around your throat as she mercilessly slams into you, adding to the euphoria that was already taking over every sense you had.

“Mommy I’m gonna cu-” her digits find their way to your face, squishing your cheeks forcing you to look her in the eyes, glaring at you as she continues to penetrate you roughly.

“You better fucking not! Desperate fucking whore wanted me to fuck her…-grunt- You needed this didn’t you? Needed me to fuck some sense into you?” Sternly escapes her lips between heavy panting, questioning the motives that lead you to where you are now.

“Is this what you wanted? To be turned into my fuck toy? Want me to cum deep in you? Hmmm? -grunts- Answer me, slut.”

You’ve been sucked into the void of pleasure, trying to form words but it all turns into loud groans as you violently quiver, unsure of how long you can hold the orgasm back. She slides her hand down to your neck from your face, squeezing lightly to hold you into place. Other hand aiding her from your thigh.

Stroking into you, holding you by the throat, she cocks her hand back and slaps your face lightly. Another stroke, another slap, another rhythm to add to the stimulation. Momo keeps this pattern, littering you with light smacks until you being to absolutely crumble beneath her.

“Gonna cum, fuck fuck right there, Mommy…please cum in me” releasing around her on the next slap. Completely fucked out and gushing, she doesn’t stop, even if your grip around her strap is making it hard for her to slam into you savagely.

Soreness builds up even more through her consistency, not giving you a break in the slightest. You were just a sleeve for her, happily accepting the punishment and overstimulation she offered you.

“…fuck, baby wait let me tou-” a particularly hard thrust causes you to completely lose your train of thought, back arched, tears falling and a total mess in mere seconds…all from her. Hirai Momo.

Leaning back, one hand on your thigh, she finally lets you uncurl your legs only to rub harsh circles around your clit, slapping it lightly between her vicious thrusts. Bed frame slamming against the wall at the pure fury in her movements.

“That’s right, cum for me again and again. You only stop when I tell you too, whore.” The sounds emitting from your mouth and cunt are lewd enough to make a pornstar shy. Wailing loudly, vision blurred, and completely overstimulated, your body twitches incessantly. Back involuntarily arching as you lose control from her feral fucking. It sends you into a spiral of divine delight.

“Gonna cum in you so you know your fucking place” picking up her speed again, her clit rubbing on the leather while thrusting her hips into you rabidly.

“Don’t you want that, princess? Don’t you want to leak my cum all fucking day? -fuck fuck fuck-” chasing her own pleasure, feeling her dripping onto you, scooching into you, hips sputtering unevenly before she lets out a string of guttural moans. Breath heavy with a light sheen of sweat layering her skin, muscles clenched as she gets closer to releasing at the thought of cumming deep inside you.

“So deep, Mommy. - so fucking deep - Cum in what’s yours.” through soft pants and almost uncomfortable soreness that hurt so good, you wouldn’t be upset if you felt it tomorrow.

“Fuck!” thrusting one last time before completely falling apart between your thighs. Shaking, uncontrollably bucking her hips into you, her hands are on your calves and her head tilts towards the sky while whine after whine levitates from her lungs.

Reaching back to grab the keys quickly out from the ankle cuffs, careful not to remove the strap from you just yet, she undoes your arm restraints - one by one and finding her place, laying on your chest as she attempts to catch her breath.

Your arms finally free from their cages, you slowly bring them down, wincing at the stiffness and placing them lightly around the back of Momo’s neck. You lightly kiss the top of her head, running your fingers lightly over the skin on her shoulders.

“Was that too much?” your little service top was back to being worried about you, lifting her head and resting her chin on your chest as she meets your eyes, wondering how you were feeling about what just transpired.

“It was perfect, baby. You did so well for me.” soothing her as she laid her head on your chest again, cheek flush against you and arms around you, tightly holding you.

“You know…I think I’d like to do that more. It was kind of hot.” Momo giggles softly at admitting she enjoyed being rough with you.

“I like seeing you so desperate for m-…baby, what are you doing?” ache returns deep within you as she talks about what she enjoyed from the session, hips starting to involuntarily rock as she talked about what pleased her.

Smiling at you in disbelief, she rolled you both over, staying inside you while she sits up on her knees, forcing you with her. Chests pressed together, your arms clutching her close by her neck, as you gently bounce up and down with shaky legs in Momo’s lap.

Hands slide up to your ass, grabbing and tugging at the flesh while she helps your momentum, adoring eyes looking up at you before kissing you passionately as you ride her.

Moaning into her mouth as she guides you to move faster, supporting your weight, thrusting up into you tenderly creating the perfect balance of pleasure through the sharp ache inside you.

“Mommy, -Mmm fuck-, I’m gonna cum again.” whispered into her mouth while gripping her hair tightly trying to put the orgasm off until she asks you for it.

“I love it when you call me that” passionately kissing you before finishing her thought.

“Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl for me.” that sends you into the wave of euphoria laced love, releasing completely to her again, clinging to her as your body tenses up, moans muffled by her tongue dancing with yours, you fully in her arms unable to hold yourself up.

Momo tilts sideways and lays you down gently on the bed, removing the strap from inside you causing you to gasp at the emptiness and soreness spikes, muscles contract around themselves instead of what she just ruined you with.

Momo giggles, being sure to bring the strap into the bathroom to deal with later before returning with a damp washcloth to wipe you off and a bottle of water, finding you already fast asleep curled up in her spot on the bed.

Smiling victoriously, she cleans you up without taking you out of your resting state, placing the water bottle on the nightstand next to you for when you wake up from your peaceful nap.

Taking her phone off the charger and grabbing her red silk robe, she slipped into it and quietly made her way to the kitchen. It’s still relatively early in the day, breakfast being on her mind as she starts the coffee pot, when her phone rings. She answers it on speaker when she sees the caller ID.

“Hi Sana.”

“Hey! How did it go?” Her voice rings loudly through the speaker as Momo grabs a mug and rolls her eyes, knowing that’s the only reason she would be calling this early.

“It went just fine, thanks for asking” awkwardly chuckling at how nosy her best friend was.

“Sooooo you did what we talked about?” inquiring further for details of the sexcapade. Momo turns beat red and puts her hands over her face to cover her embarrassment.

“Sana! I’m not going to tell you what happened! If she finds out you and I were scheming…I truly don’t even know what she’d do! She can’t know that you told me about what she said to you! ” exclaimed through awkward laughs.

“Scheming, hmm?” coming from behind Momo, causing her to freeze in her tracks, face turning bright red, holding her breath as Sana cackles on the other end of the phone.

“…so I have Sana to thank for the confidence boost you needed?” sarcastically said while walking over to her and leaning against her, still having a little trouble standing on your own. You kiss Momo’s cheek before starting to make two cups of coffee while she stands there in shock.

Sana is having a laughing fit on the other side of the phone, not being able to contain herself - entertained by the idea of how embarrassed Momo was and the reveal of you and Sana cooking up a plan to get you exactly what you wanted.

“Thank you, Sana!” yelled out into the kitchen so she could hear it over her own laugh, bringing you to chuckle along with her at how well everything actually worked.

“You’re welcome, Y/n! I want the details later!” Swiftly hanging up to leave you both alone with each other.

“If I knew all you needed was a confidence boost, I would’ve told her what I wanted ages ago instead of trying to convince you to be rough with me, baby.” pinching her ass, winking and then going back to your shared bedroom.

“Wait…wait what?! You told Sana…and then she tol- oh, you bitch! You’re playing a twisted little game!” playfully chasing after you, just to kiss you deeply before returning to cook you your favorite breakfast.

Thanks again for reading! 🖤

#twice imagines #twice x reader #kpop x reader #momo x fem!reader #momo x fem reader #momo imagines #momo smut #momo x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #dom!momo #top!momo #hirai Momo x fem!reader #twice smut #gg smut

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determinate-negation · 6 months

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What is important to understand about that moment was that Zionism was a political choice — not only by western imperial powers, but also by Jewish leadership. They could have fought more strenuously for Jewish immigration to the United States. And a lot of the Zionist leaders actually fought against immigration to the United States. There were a number of stories reported in the Jewish Communist press about how Zionists collaborated with the British and Americans to force Jews to go to Mandate Palestine, when they would have rather gone to the United States, or England. There’s a famous quote by Ernest Bevin, the British Foreign Secretary, who said the only reason the United States sent Jews to Palestine was “because they do not want too many more of them in New York.” And the Zionists agreed with this.

While this may seem like ancient history, it is important because it disrupts the common sense surrounding Israel’s formation. “Yes, maybe there could have been peace between Jews and Palestinians, but the Holocaust made all of that impossible.” And I would say that this debate after 1945 shows that there was a long moment in which there were other possibilities, and another future could have happened

[…]

Question: Who or what is responsible for the erasure of this history of Jewish, left anti-Zionism?

I wouldn’t blame the erasure solely on the Soviet Union or Zionism, because we also have to think of the Cold War and how the Cold War destroyed the old Jewish left, and really drove it underground and shattered its organizations. So I think we also have to see how the turn toward Zionism was understood as something that would normalize Jews in a post-war era.

With the execution of the Rosenbergs, the Red Scare of the late 1940s and ’50s, and the virtual banning of the Communist Party, which had been throughout the 1930s and ’40s half Jewish, for much of the Jewish establishment, aligning themselves with American imperialism was a way for Jews to normalize their presence in the United States. And hopefully that moment has to some degree passed. We can see the emptiness and barrenness of aligning ourselves with an American imperial project, with people like Bari Weiss and Jared Kushner. Why would someone like Bari Weiss, who describes herself as liberal, want to align herself with the most reactionary forces in American life?

It’s a bloody matrix of assimilation and whiteness that emerged out of the Cold War suburbanization of the 1950s. Israel was part of that devil’s bargain. Yes, you can become real Americans: You can go to good U.S. universities, you can join the suburbs, enter into the mainstream of American life, as long as you do this one little thing for us, which is back the American Empire. Hopefully, with the emergence of new grassroots organizations in the United States, among Jews and non-Jews who are questioning the U.S. role supporting Zionism, this calculus can begin to change. With the rise of Jewish Voice for Peace, IfNotNow, the Democratic Socialists of America and the Movement for Black Lives all taking a serious stance against U.S. support for Zionism, the common sense in the Jewish community has begun to move in a different direction, particularly among the younger generation. The battle is very far from over, but it makes me just a little optimistic about the future.”

- The Forgotten History of the Jewish Anti-Zionist Left

#what ive been saying #anti zionism #✡️#mine #history

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shuhwaa · 5 months

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Minnie | Ruined orgasm [M]

Kinkmas 2023 - Day 15 (G)I-dle Minnie x fem!reader words: ~800 genre: smut (dom!Minnie, reader is kind of a brat, some degradation, Minnie calls her a slut, mommy kink, breast play, fingering, ruined orgasm (reader receiving)) warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamics

(requested)

The second your girlfriend makes the others leave the practice room so she could pin you against the big mirror on the wall nearest to you, you know you've gone too far.

"Babe..." she says, her voice deep, eyes dropping to your lips. A shiver runs down your spine, and as a result she just presses your wrists to the cold glass behind you with more force. It hurts a little, but it causes heat to rush through your whole body and you rub your legs together.

You've been horny ever since getting up that morning and so far there hasn't been a chance for you or Minnie to take care of that. And at this point she can't really blame you for not behaving anymore, after you've had to spend the majority of the day in this state, right? What she can probably blame you for is the way you've been eyeing the other members, staring at the way their bodies moved as they practiced their new song a little too much in an attempt to make your girlfriend jealous. You've very much succeeded with your plan, or she wouldn't currently be staring you down as if you had made a big mistake, and it makes you excited for what kind of punishment you're going to get.

"Are you gonna be a good little girl for me?" Minnie asks, and you immediately nod, almost letting out a whine at the way she towers over you now. "You gonna stop whatever you were doing just a minute ago if I fuck you real good on the spot?"

"Y-yes, mommy..." you whimper, and you can see a spark of satisfaction light up in her eyes. She smirks at you and then she adds,

"Good. Then keep your hands above your head. And don't you dare make a sound." Running the fingers of one hand up your shirt to grab your chest, she watches in amusement as you bite your lip to avoid making a sound when she pinches your nipple, rolling it between her fingers to make you whine. Her other hand finds its way under your skirt, and when she immediately pushes two fingers inside you, you gasp.

"No panties huh... such a desperate little slut..." she comments under her breath and you clench around her at her words.

"Y-yes..." you mewl. "Need mommy so bad..."

"You really can't go a single day without mommy's fingers in your pretty little pussy, huh?" She fucks you roughly, but with how wet you are from all the things she says to you, her fingers pump in and out of you with ease. When you instinctively buck your hips to meet her in the middle, she huffs, stepping closer to keep you from moving and she squeezes your nipple as a warning. A gasp escapes you at the momentary pain, and you hold still, forming fists above your head instead and digging your nails into your palms.

"Such a desperate little slut," she mutters, and when you clench around her again at the nickname, she smirks at you. "Like it when I’m rough with you, hm? You and your pretty little cunt..."

"Y-yes, mommy..." you whine. "S-so close..."

"What? You're coming close?" she repeats.

"Y-yeah..." You throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut as you can see your high fast approaching. "G-gonna cum...!"

"I don't think you will," you hear her mutter, and the next second you feel her pulling out, a sense of deprivation overcoming you. You feel like you've been left hanging mid-air, the build up of your orgasm still lingering in your body, and you try to catch your breath as you realize it's not going to happen.

Minnie grabs your chin instead, lifting it up to give you a rather soothing kiss, and when she parts from you, she whispers,

"Your pretty little cunt belongs to me only, got that?" You have no choice but to nod obediently, even though you feel like yelling at her for leaving you hanging like that. "Maybe if you're a good girl for the rest of the day, mommy will let you cum at home." You nod once again, and then you can't do anything but watch her walk away to tell the others that they can continue practice. Sinking to your knees as you adjust your clothes a little, you wait patiently for the rest of its duration, your eyes glued only to your girlfriend, all the while hoping for her to ruin you once you get home.

#gidle smut #minnie smut #minnie x reader #minnie x fem reader #gidle x fem reader #gidle x reader #gidle imagines #gidle scenarios #gidle drabbles #girl group smut #gg smut #girl group x reader #gg x fem reader #gg x reader #smut

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loveronlineee · 2 years

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Off Limits Part 2 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Dustin’s worry turns to anger as Eddie and his sister seem to keep getting closer

Y/N notes: none

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“And you promise me that’s all he said to you?” Dustin asked for the millionth time during the drive to school. Mike giggled to himself in the back seat.

“YES Dustin that’s all Eddie said to me. I still don’t get why you care so much.” Y/N huffed, keeping her eyes on the road. Dustin hesitated to tell her, but Mike didn’t.

“It’s because Eddie’s got the hots for you!” Mike shouted. Dustin turned around and glared at his friend.

“Really?” Dustin turned back to his sister.

“Uh why are you smiling?”

“I’m not smiling.” Y/N denied, smiling. Dustin’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god NO. You can’t actually like him.”

“What? I didn’t say anything!” Y/N joked, smile still on her face. Dustin huffed in frustration.

“I’d rather you dated one of those basketball douches than Eddie.”

“But Eddie’s your friend?”

‘Yeah Eddie’s friend material! Not boyfriend material!’

“How’d you know? You dated him?” Mike started laughing again from the back, angering Dustin more. They reached school and the boys got out of the car. Dustin leaned through the window and pointed at Y/N.

“Stay away from Eddie Munson.”

“You can’t stop fate Dustin. I can’t help it if Eddie falls for my charisma and beauty!” Now Dustin was really worried. They were sounding very similar.

“JUST STAY AWAY FROM HIM!” He shouted one last time before entering the school. Y/N chuckled to herself as she drove back round to find a parking space.

She didn’t see Eddie or the boys all morning. And didn’t plan on it as she decided to eat her lunch at the picnic bench she liked in the forest. It was quiet and peaceful there. A good place to go when the school lunch hall was overwhelming.

“Y/N?” Eddie questioned.

“JESUS H Christ Eddie! You tryna kill me?” Y/N jumped as she turned to see him walking towards her. Eddie smiled and sat down opposite the girl.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t realise you came out here.”

“Yeah sometimes. When I wanna be alone.” Eddie’s smile dropped.

“Oh. Right okay got it. I’ll leave.” He began getting back up when Y/N held his wrist.

“No it’s okay, you can stay.” She said softly. Eddie’s smile returned and he sat back down. Y/N moved her hand away and back to her lunch. She picked up her chopsticks. Eddie frowned and observed.

“What are you eating?”

“Sushi.”

“Sushi?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sushi.”

“Can’t say that I have Henderson.” Y/N picked up a piece with her chopsticks and held it up to him.

“This ones my favourite.” Eddie cautiously took it from her. It was surprisingly good.

“Woah.”

“I know right.” Y/N beamed. “What are you having for lunch?”

“Eh nothing.”

“Nothing?!” Eddie shrugged.

“I usually skip lunch. Not anything worth taking from home anyways.” He said it in a joking tone but Y/N was still concerned. “So how come you eat this and Dustin has cold pizza?” Y/N chuckled.

“We pack our own lunch.” Eddie nodded in understanding. “I like cooking. I’d make Dustin’s lunch too but he doesn’t like the stuff I make.”

“Well I for one think that this sushi is the best sushi ever made.” Eddie stated. Y/N laughed which made Eddie’s smile widen.

“EDDIE!” Dustin shouted as he ran up to the table.

“Dustin what are you-“

“Y/N why are you alone in the woods with him?” Dustin demanded to know.

“Chill out bud.” Eddie said, holding his hands up innocently. Dustin pointed a stern finger at him.

“I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“Dustin calm down. I came out here to eat my lunch and Eddie happened to find me.” Y/N calmly explained, but her little brother wasn’t having it. He grabbed Y/N’s arm and began to pull her away.

“Come on let’s go. Lunch is gonna end soon.”

“Wha- Dustin!” Y/N managed to grab her bag before she was dragged away. Eddie put the lid back on her box of sushi and jumped over the picnic bench to hand it back. Y/N smiled at him before pulling Dustin off her and walking beside him. “You are surprisingly strong.”

“Yeah I’ve been working out.”

“You have? With what? Mom’s work out VHS?”

“Shut up.”

“See ya later Hendersons!” Eddie shouted back. Y/N waved and Dustin whacked her hand down. Eddie chuckled to himself.

It seems that there was an obstacle in his way.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #reader x stranger things #stranger things imagine

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 9 months

Text

The Woes of Weddings (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

You can read the first part, The Woes of Betrothals, but it’s not necessary to read it to understand the plot :)

Synopsis: Your wedding with Prince Aemond draws near.

Warnings: fluff, so. much. fluff, p in v sex, tiddy succin’, oral (f! receiving), and fingering, slight impreg kink?? (if i missed out anything someone please tell me I’m too sleep deprived for this), jace shaming (on aemond’s part)

Word Count: 5K words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: You asked for a sequel to The Woes of Betrothals...and you got it. Featuring my first time writing smut 👀 I’m still improving on my smut writing skills, so please don’t laugh (I spent like five hours pouring about the specifics of smut writing too so) 😳 (see end of chapter for more A/N)

wonderful dividers credited to @firefly-graphics as always!

‘By the gods,’ you swore silently to yourself, watching the scene unfold before you, ‘I did not think that I could have anticipated anything quite as worrisome as this.’

Your wedding day was in less than a week’s time, and your anxiety was just reaching breaking point.

You stood uncomfortably on a slightly raised dais, attempting to keep as still as possible while the seamstresses around you fussed with the measurements of your wedding gown and cloak, adjusting it to perfection. You were unsuccessful in your regard, as you occasionally winced from the sharp sting of a needle poking your skin. Helaena sat in one corner of the room, observing the proceedings with a dreamy smile, which you returned. But it was the presence of the Queen Alicent that made you feel a little discomfited. Though the Queen was watching the scene with a smile, you saw glimmer of sorrow in her eyes every now and then, though it was quickly masked by her usual veneer of geniality. You wondered with a small blip of terror if the Queen was having second thoughts of wedding you to her beloved second son, but your worries were soon soothed with the thoughts of your beloved. You had greatly enjoyed the time you had both spent over the past few weeks: he had been nothing but a consummate gentleman and lover, nothing like the rumours of the cold prince you were once deceived by. Even now, thinking of your beloved, you had a rosy tinge to your cheeks and a smile on your face, despite the sting of the needles. You simply could not wait to discover what marital bliss your marriage will bring.

In another room, Aemond was faring far better than his fair lady was. Despite the rather unneeded presence of his grandsire in the room, scrutinising every move the tailors made, Aemond found himself to be quite far away from current happenings. His mind kept wandering back to his lady, and the sheer elation he felt that he would be wedding her in less than a week. It had been nearly a moon’s turn since he had confessed his true feelings to her, and every day since then has felt like a dream he never wished to wake from. He thought he would never experience more happiness as he had when he had claimed Vhagar, but this…it was a different sort of joy entirely. A contentment far more peaceful, and he found that he preferred this contentment to the hot blooded rush of triumph and adrenaline every time he rode Vhagar or won in his sparring jousts with Ser Criston.

The both of you had spent the past few weeks spending nearly every waking moment with each other: you watching him train at arms with a wide smile on your lovely face that never ceased to spur him on, which always made Ser Criston raise his eyebrows in both amusement and a sort of pride; both of you discussing histories and philosophies in the library, where Aemond had discovered your passion for dissecting philosophical theology, much to his delight; strolling in the gardens and watching you blush with joy whenever he picked a flower and put it in your hair. He had also made it a custom to bring you a hand-picked bouquet of flowers every day, utterly enchanted by the near ethereal glow of happiness on his lady’s face every time he presented the bouquet to you. If he were a better painter, he would have asked you to sit for a portrait. Alas. Well, he could always commission the best painter in Westeros to do so, although he wasn’t quite sure if they would be able to capture your essence.

Aemond sometimes thought it foolish that he had fallen in love so hastily, and so deeply at that. But he realised that when he woke up thinking about your smile and went to sleep every night thinking about how to make you smile even wider the next morrow, that no matter how much of a fool’s folly this may be, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He could not wait to be wedded to you.

The merry toll of bells resounded throughout King’s Landing, as nearly every single noble lord and lady gathered before the Iron Throne to celebrate the wedding of Prince Aemond Targaryen to his much cherished bride.

Aemond fidgeted nervously with the hem of his sleeves, a habit he hadn’t done since he was a young child. He had never really liked crowds, despite being a Prince. Helaena, who was standing next to him, separating him from a probably drunk Aegon, patted his arm reassuringly. Aemond turned his head to shoot her a small, grateful smile, just as trumpets heralded the entrance of the bride.

The courtiers turned their head to the doors, and gasps rippled through the crowd as they beheld the bride. Aemond felt as though he had lost all capability to function.

There you were, gliding towards him in a gown of white, looking like a vision of the Maiden herself. Delicate spirals of gold and flowers adorned the thick brocade and silk of your gown, a thick cloak of your House’s colours draped snugly across your shoulders. You were escorted down the aisle by your lord father, who was beaming with pride while shedding some very non-discrete tears. Aemond felt like weeping himself, and Helaena was tearing up a little herself.

When you reached the end of the aisle, your father removed the cloak from your shoulders, kissing you on your forehead, before entrusting your hand to Aemond, your beloved, who looked extremely dashing in his intricately tailored white wedding clothes. “Take care of my daughter, Your Grace,” your father said tearfully. Aemond gave the man a nod, “I will love her till the end of my days, my lord. Have no fear.” Then, Aemond turned to face you, a wide smile on his face, as he draped a heavy cloak of black and red across your shoulders. “My princess, my lady wife,” he whispered softly to you, caressing your hand in his. You smiled back at him, “My prince. My lord husband.” The both of you walked to the septon, pure joy emanating from your faces, as he officially pronounced the both of you man and wife, much to the raucous cheers of the crowd behind you.

The wedding feast was underway, and laughter and merriment was abound. For your first dance, you were whirled around the room by your husband, whose smile had not left his face since the moment he saw you. “I find it difficult to believe this is your first time waltzing, husband,” you said incredulously. “You are as nimble and graceful as any other lord in the room.” Aemond laughed softly, “Believe it or not, my lady, it is the first.” “But why?” you questioned, as Aemond twirled you around. Aemond looked hesitant, before answering softly, “Perhaps it was because I’ve never found the right dancing partner, until now.” You blushed, unsure of how to answer back, when Prince Jacaerys cut in, gallantly asking you for a dance, which you happily granted. What you did not notice however, was Aemond clenching his jaw as he watched you being whisked away by Lord Strong, but he shoved down the overbearing urge to punch the bastard in his face. ‘My love would be unhappy if I ruined our night,’ he kept repeating to himself, although he clenched his fists when he returned to the table and Aegon shot him a smirk, having saw everything. “Weren’t you drowning yourself in your cups, brother?” Aemond narrowed his eyes at him. “And weren’t you dancing with your bride? Oh wait,” Aegon said mockingly, “You’ve been forsaken for Jace once more.”

Now Aegon was the one Aemond wished to punch. But he took a deep breath, not wanting to cause any conflict on such a joyous night. It wasn’t worth it to get riled up over Aegon’s japes, it never was. However, Aemond felt miserable as he watched you getting twirled around by Jace, laughing with him, instead of him. No matter, in the end, it was him that was your husband, not the Strong bastard, nor anyone else.

You were a little out of breath, after being asked to dance by three other lords after Prince Jacaerys. Now, you were exhausted, and wished nothing more than to return to your husband’s side and converse with him, particularly about…You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought. Of your wedding night.

Spotting your husband sitting at the head table, you began to make your way towards him, but you were stopped by a familiar figure swathed in Hightower green. “Your Grace,” your eyes widened, before you dropped to a curtsey. Queen Alicent looked down at you with a smile, “At ease, please, we are family now, after all. You should address me as Mother instead.” You straightened, looking unsure as you glanced at your husband, who had already noticed you being accosted by his mother and was looking a little concerned. “Of course, Your Gr- I mean, Mother,” you said hesitantly. Queen Alicent’s smile turned a little warmer, “You may relax, dear, I merely wanted to have a conversation with you, from mother to daughter-in-law. Would you mind having a drink with me?”

“I would be honoured, Your Grace.” Queen Alicent swept towards her seat at the head of the table, you following obediently behind her, but not before looking to your husband for guidance, and perhaps some help. As you passed by Aemond, he squeezed your hand in a reassuring gesture, which made your nerves sooth a little. ‘I can do this’, you chanted in your head, ‘tis only the Queen after all. And we are family now, this sort of thing is inescapable.’ Queen Alicent gestured for you to take a seat, as the servants began pouring wine into your goblets. “I trust you understand what would happen after the wedding feast, yes?” You fought the urge to blush, as you answered, “Yes, Your- Mother. Septa Marlow has kindly instructed me on the matter.” The Queen nodded approvingly, “Good, then we can move on to the other matter I wish to speak of then.” You were startled, what other matter could the Queen wish to speak of with you?

The Queen took a sip of her wine, and for the first time, you noticed a certain sort of apprehension in her expression. The Queen said your name carefully, before asking, “Are you happy with my son?” You were struck by her sudden question, but you answered truthfully, “Yes, I am. He’s chivalrous, kind, and I have no doubt he would be a loving husband. I couldn’t have found a better husband.” The Queen smiled, but there was a certain bitterness in it. “You do not know how it warms my heart to hear you say so. Among my sons, I cherish Aemond the most. Though he may be…impassioned at times, my son is a good man. And it pleases me so that he is lucky enough to have found a wonderful woman such as you as his wife. I am certain that you will both have a happy union.” You blinked, taken aback by the scale of her compliments, “Thank you, my Queen. You flatter me, truly.” Suddenly, Aemond appeared next to you, hand on your shoulder as he greeted his mother. “Mother, if I may, I must steal my wife away for the moment. It is nearly time for the bedding ceremony.”

“Oh, yes, I nearly forgot about that.” The Queen laughs, standing up. She pecked her son on the cheek, “Well, the both of you best be off to your bedchambers then. I will await for the both of you to break fast with me on the morrow.” Aemond inclined his head and smiled tenderly at his mother, “Of course, Mother. I bid you good night.” When the Queen had walked away, Aemond gave you a sheepish smile, “Did my mother trouble you in any way?” You shook your head, though you were still reeling a little at the oddity of your conversation with the Queen. “No, my love…she only wished to express her congratulations to our union.”

Aemond breathed a sigh of relief, the tension seeping out of his muscles. “I’m glad to hear that.” He lowered his head to whisper huskily in your ear, “Now…how scandalous do you think it would be if I swept you into my arms right now and carried you to our bedchambers to consummate our marriage?” You looked at him with a mix of amusement and mortification, trying to discern how serious he was being. “I think we would be unable to show our face in court for nigh a moon’s turn.”

Aemond sighed mournfully, “A shame then….that I do not much care for that.” With that, he scooped you up into his arms, grinning wolfishly at your shriek of surprise and the bemused and intrigued looks the rest of the court was giving the both of you. “Please, continue to enjoy the feast, my lords and ladies. Tonight, I wish to express to my lady wife how elated I am at our union.” You heard Prince Aegon whistle at Aemond’s antics, and you buried your face in Aemond’s chest, unable to face the crowd as he carried you out the throne room. When the both of you reached your bedchambers, Aemond set you down gently, and smiled, “Was that too much?”

“Very much so,” you admitted, feeling your face burn. Aemond found it rather adorable that you were so embarrassed. “I do not think I can face anybody in court for the next few weeks.” Aemond laughed, sweeping you into an embrace and kissing you on the forehead, “Worry not, my love. If things go as planned…I can assure you you will not be leaving our bedchambers for a moon’s turn.”

You gaped, a little awestruck at your husband’s newfound boldness. He seemed to have transformed greatly from the shy, yet affectionate prince you had been spending your time with, into a confident, and evidently starved man, who was scanning you with such a greedy gleam in his lone violet eye that made a strange heat flare in your abdomen. His hands on your waist, he leaned in to whisper to you, “I trust you know what that entails?” You nodded slightly, not trusting yourself to speak at the moment, gazing up at his eye, which was clouded over in reverence and lust. “Good,” he whispered, “Now, would you allow your husband to unlace your bodice and help you out of your gown?” You nodded meekly. He smiled tenderly at you, turning you around and getting to work undoing your laces. You gasped when you felt your husband plant a kiss onto your exposed neck. “Are you nervous, my love?” Aemond asked sweetly, finally loosening the last laces of your dress.

“Yes…” you murmured softly, feeling anxiety begin to build in you as Aemond began to tug off your gown. “I’ve…I’ve never…”

Aemond turned you around to face him again, your bodice hanging around your waist by now, and his breathing was growing more erratic by the second. But his expression was loving as he said, “I know, my love. I know. I don’t want you to worry, all you need to do is lay there and allow me to give you your pleasure. Is that alright?” “But I wish to please you too,” you protested softly. Aemond took your hand in his and planted a kiss to the back of it, his gaze never leaving yours. “To be able to bring you pleasure is the greatest satisfaction I could ever want for, my love. Now…” He finally undresses you, making quick work of your smallclothes.

The first sight of your bare form has him questioning if he had truly died and went to heaven. You were the most marvellous sight he had ever laid eyes upon: your skin smooth and glowing in the firelight, your gait shy, legs pressed together to hide the growing arousal he had no doubt was pooling between your thighs. “Oh, my love…”

“Why? Is there something wrong?” you ask worriedly. Aemond shook his head, cupping your cheeks softly. “On the contrary, nothing has felt more right.” He directed you to sit on the bed, and you watched, riveted as he began to undress himself, his eye never leaving your face. He wanted to savour every single expression that graced your features tonight. When he had stripped himself off his doublet and smallclothes, you couldn’t help but admire the sight before you. He was majestic, his frame lithe and muscled. You let out a small gasp when you saw some scars littering his abdomen, tracing your fingers over them. His affectionate gaze followed you as you did. “How did you get these?” you asked quietly, looking up at your husband again. He smiled, threading a hand through your hair, “Just some scars from training at arms, my love. I wasn’t quite as proficient with the sword when I was younger, you know.” You continued tracing over them gently, almost reverently. “Do you…think they’re ugly?” Aemond asked quietly. You shook your head fervently, which made Aemond feel relieved. “Of course not, my love! Like my father likes to say, all scars tell of a story of failure, and how you managed to overcome them.” Aemond looked bemused, “Well, your father was very wise.” Aemond gently pushed your hands away, hands moving to his belt. “But enough of this talk, I think I’m neglecting the main purpose of the night: which is to lavish upon my beautiful wife all the attention she rightfully deserves.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but you soon felt your mouth running dry as Aemond undid his belt and shucked off his pants. You had seen an illustration of a man’s…cock several times, when you had the misfortune of stumbling upon a copy of ‘A Caution for Young Girls’ and several rather raunchy books by Grand Maester Elysar. But that all seemed like child’s play compared to the man before you. “Aemond, I…” you shut your mouth for fear of blurting out something that was very indecent, although from your state of undress, decency was the furthest thing from your mind now.

Aemond chuckled, bringing a hand to stroke your cheek gently. “Are you impressed by what you see, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked teasingly. “Nuha jorrāelagon?” you wrinkled your forehead in a most adorable display. “It means my love in High Valyrian. I think that’s more unique than simply calling you my love in the Common Tongue. You deserve nothing but the most special things, after all. Which is why-” Your eyes widened as Aemond got onto his knees before you, grinning up at you mischievously. “I plan to make this the most memorable wedding night in history.”

“I-” you were cut off as Aemond began lavishing kisses on your breasts and chest, fingers nimbly flicking at your sensitive nipples. “Oh, Aemond!” you cried out, as his mouth replaced his fingers, gripping tightly onto his shoulders. “Mmm, and here I thought I would never hear a sweeter sound from your lips,” Aemond hummed gently against your skin, the sensation nearly driving you crazy. “Keep them coming, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

You gasped as you felt Aemond gently prying your legs apart, exposing your soaked cunny to him. Within a heartbeat, his fingers grazed over your cunt, making you cry out and arch your back. “My love-” You were interrupted by the sensation of Aemond inserting a finger inside of you, while his hot mouth was still sucking at your erect nipples. Your husband was a fan of interrupting you, it seems. “How does that feel, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked in a sultry tone. “Good?”

“Yes, so good. So, so good,” you moaned out, nails digging into Aemond’s shoulder as he added a second finger and began pumping a little faster, encouraged by how wet your cunt was becoming for him. He grinned devilishly, moving his mouth from your nipples to your neck. You let out another cry as you felt Aemond’s teeth sink into the soft flesh just above your collarbone, before immediately soothing it over with his tongue. Aemond let out a groan as he felt you becoming even wetter as he left love bites across your neck, he didn’t even know it was possible for him to get even more turned on by how aroused you were getting from the pain. His cock was growing even more painfully hard by the second, and he gritted his teeth, trying to will himself to calm down. ‘This night is about her pleasure,’ he told himself sternly, ‘You can have your pleasure later, when she is satisfied first.’

You let out a whine as you felt Aemond remove his fingers, but a moan soon replaced whatever complaints you had when Aemond latched his tongue onto your cunt, licking and slurping at your juices like a starved man. Digging your fingers into Aemond’s shoulder, you felt an unfamiliar sensation begin building in your stomach as Aemond’s tongue began flicking and sucking at your clit, making you squirm. Aemond kept one firm hand on your thigh, while the other wandered up to play with your breasts. “Aemond…Aemond!” you cried out as you felt your “peak” (Coryanne Wylde had described that in A Caution For Young Girls) hit you, making your orgasm gush out all over Aemond’s tongue. Aemond groaned, feeling his cock become painfully hard as he watched you climax right before him. He continued devouring your cunt, determined to make you orgasm again. The taste of you was just too sweet that he had to have you come undone on his tongue again. You moaned and cried out, writhing as you felt the sensation building up in your stomach again. Your second peak came much sooner this time, in part due to how sensitive your clit was. Aemond dutifully lapped up every last drop of your juices, sucking at your clit before withdrawing and wiping his mouth with a grin. You looked completely blissed out, if not a bit lost as to what had happened. “Are you alright, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked softly, hands caressing your thighs. You nodded shyly, and Aemond smirked. “Good.”

You yelped as Aemond pushed you onto the bed, your back hitting the sheets with a soft thump. The cool silk sheets were a welcome contrast to your burning skin, as Aemond grabbed your legs and hooked them around his waist. He leaned down to capture your lips with his, his kiss nothing like the chaste ones you had shared before. This kiss was messy, filled with lustful need, as he eagerly delved into your mouth with his tongue, fighting the urge to smirk when he heard you moan helplessly into his mouth at the pleasure. And it was about to get better for you, and for him as well.

You were breathing heavily as Aemond finally broke your intense kiss, looking up at your husband like he was a god. You noticed a hungry gleam in his eye as he leaned in to whisper, “This might hurt a bit, ñuha jorrāelagon. But I swear, the pleasure will overtake the pain soon enough. Do you trust me?”

You gulped, but you tried to put on a brave face as you replied, “I trust you, my love..” Aemond bent down to kiss you sweetly. “Thank you, ñuha jorrāelagon. Just hold on to me, alright?”

Your brows furrowed, but you squeezed your eyes shut in pain at the next moment, when you felt your husband’s cock slip between your folds and inside you. You cried out, the discomfort jarring you as he gradually sunk into you, letting you get used to his huge size. Aemond stroked your cheek softly, kissing away the tears that had formed at your eyes. “It’s alright, ñuha jorrāelagon. It will get better, I promise.” And he was right, you felt the pain ebb away slowly, replaced by a yearning for Aemond to move inside of you. “Aemond,” you whispered, “Husband. Could you move, please?”

Aemond smiled tenderly at you. “With pleasure, ābrazȳrys.” He slowly rolled his hips, and you felt your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. “Oh…feels so good, my love.” Aemond chuckled softly, moving in and out of you in a leisurely pace, enjoying the sight before him. “I’m glad to hear that, ñuha jorrāelagon. I’m going to pick up the pace now, is that alright?” You nodded, desperate to relieve the ache you felt. Aemond kissed you on the nose, before speeding up, causing your eyes to roll back. “Seven hells,” Aemond swore, panting a little, “You’re so tight for me. So perfect.” You moaned at his words, feeling a hot wave of shame, but also arousal wash over you. His words were so filthy…but you wanted to hear more of it. Aemond moved even faster, his own pleasure overtaking whatever rational thought he had about taking it slow. You whimpered when you felt him hit a spongy spot, tightening your grip on his shoulder at how deep he was going.

“I love you so much, you know,” Aemond panted out, his silver hair now in disarray and his forehead beaded with sweat as he thrusted inside you. “More than anything in the world. I never thought it was possible for me to love someone to this extent, but you…with you, everything feels possible. I would move mountains for you, ñuha jorrāelagon.” You bit your lip, touched by his words. Moving your hand to the strap of his eyepatch, you murmured, “May I?” Aemond swallowed, feeling reluctant for you to see his actual face, to see the ugly scar that tormented him constantly. But you seemed so genuine, so earnest, that he could only nod stiffly. You pulled it off, setting the eyepatch aside, and ran your finger gently on his scar. You beheld the sight of his sapphire eye without much fear, or disgust, both reactions that Aemond had been fearing, and he let out a sigh of relief, leaning down to kiss you again, before trailing his lips onto your neck and collarbone.

“You are truly wondrous, ñuha jorrāelagon, do you know that? You make me want to learn every little thing about you…all your likes, your dislikes, what makes you beam and what makes you tick…I just want to never stop learning about you.” Aemond whispered against your skin. “No other books in the world, both known and unknown, could measure up to the enchanting goddess that is you, ñuha jorrāelagon. I love you, so much.”

You moaned softly, moving to tug at Aemond’s hair as he left more love bites on your neck. “I love you too, Aemond. From now, till the end of our days. You are the sun in my universe. No, more than that. You are my moon, my light, my reason to keep breathing. You are everything to me.”

Aemond groaned softly, feeling his own release getting closer as he listened to your declaration of love. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, “Thank you, ñuha jorrāelagon. Thank you for not turning away from me. For loving me. For not seeing me as lesser than.” You tilted your head upwards to give him a tender smooch on the lips. “You never need to thank me for loving you, Aemond. You are deserving of it. And I promise to show you all the love that you deserve throughout our marriage.” And that was the final straw for Aemond. With a throaty moan, he spilled inside of you, feeling your walls clench around him as he did. You followed shortly after, reaching your third climax of the night as you arched your back in pleasure. Aemond continued thrusting inside you, letting you ride out your peak, as he kissed you fervently. You tangled your hands in his hair, moaning into his mouth. After a while, Aemond finally ceased moving in you, pulling out of you. He broke your kiss and pecked you on the forehead, “Wait here, ñuha jorrāelagon.” You watched, confused, as Aemond disappeared, returning with a wet cloth. He sat next to you, cleaning up the mess of fluids on your thighs, where you noticed a small spot of blood on the sheets. ‘My maidenhood,’ you thought, chewing on your bottom lip. ‘It seems I am well and truly a woman now.’ You watched with wide eyes as Aemond kissed up your thighs softly, before pushing his fingers inside your cunny again, causing you to gasp out. “It’s to make sure my seed isn’t wasted, ñuha jorrāelagon,” Aemond explained, stroking your skin softly. “I hope that it’ll get you with child a little sooner.”

You felt your cheeks flush as he planted a final kiss over your cunt, smirking as he murmured, “I would like nothing more than to see your belly swell with my child, ñuha jorrāelagon. I am sure that you would be a wonderful mother.”

He then disposed of the cloth, settling next to you on the bed comfortably and taking you into his embrace. “Did I hurt you anywhere, ñuha jorrāelagon?” Aemond asked you with a concerned look on his face. You smiled reassuringly, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. You didn’t hurt me anywhere.” “I’m glad,” he smiled, before his expression turned coy. “And was everything to your satisfaction, ñuha jorrāelagon?” You laughed, “It was everything the romance novels promised.” That answer pleased him, and he swept you into another kiss, his thumb swiping across your cheekbones.

‘And so, Prince Aemond of House Targaryen took Lady Y/N of House Y/H/N to bride in 126 AC, and all who witnessed their nuptials agreed that the match was well made, indeed. Prince Aemond and Lady Y/N’s union would prove to be both happy and fruitful, bringing forth five children: three sons and two daughters.’

-from the chronicles of Fire and Blood, on the reign of Viserys the Peaceful, written by Archmaester Gyldayn.

translations: ābrazȳrys - wife, ñuha jorrāelagon - my love

Aemond General Taglist: @aiyaiy @sylas-the-grim

if you wish to be added to the taglist for all my aemond-related works, you can tell me in the comments or through this form :)

A/N: And that’s part 2! I hope the people who requested for one are happy with this haha 💗 I’m also thinking if I should turn this into a domestic fluff Aemond series lol, what do you guys think? If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for reading! If you liked this one shot, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated xxx

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kazumist · 4 months

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EPISODE 14 ♡ I LOVE YOU TO THE BONE

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL — A SCARAMOUCHE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / angsty stuff ahead!

cw: drinking, alcohol, a few profanities here and there. wc: 1023.

“so?”

kazuha settles down at the table where his miserable and dear friend is brooding. “i just don't get it," his friend says.

“i’m right here, kazuha.”

“how's your heart at this point?” kazuha asks him. “same old. would it be cheesy to say broken?”

“if that's the best term you think would describe it, then no, it isn't cheesy.”

kunikuzushi pours himself another shot and takes it down in one gulp. he isn't going to last anytime soon, kazuha thinks. “you know what the funny part is? even if i want or try to get mad at them for being selfish, i just can't. i can't do it, kazuha.”

“what am i if not theirs?”

and just in time, “the man who can't be moved” by the script started playing. how perfect for kunikuzushi’s situation.

“a huge and miserable idiot, that's what you are," kazuha replies, pouring himself a shot as well. kunikuzushi lets out a weak laugh at his response, “well, i can't certainly deny that.”

“it's okay to be selfish every once in a while, kuni. you should raise your pride higher again.”

“i’d rather lose my pride than lose them in my life.”

“you're really stubborn; did you know that?” oh, he knew that very well.

“you know, if the pain is starting to become more heavy than the joy, then you should let go. you're always the miserable one, kuni. the fact that you're already hesitating already says a lot about what your mind is trying to tell you.”

when those words left kazuha’s lips, kunikuzushi thought it was a nice idea to drink four consecutive shots. “i’m not taking care of you if you get drunk, idiot.”

“just take me home after.” another shot.

not too long after that, kunikuzushi was drunk.

when you got a text from kazuha saying that he had a gift for you, you didn't expect to see a drunk and sobbing kunikuzushi by your doorstep.

you wanted to see kunikuzushi, sure, but not in this state. definitely not in the state where he's continuously apologizing for not being enough for you to stay.

“love, come home to me. let's go home.”

you felt like crying too, because, as much as you also wanted to go home with him, you couldn't even dare step a foot inside the front porch to kuni’s heart.

“fuck you, kazuha.” you cursed at him.

“take care of him, (name); after all, you made him get into this state.”

“kazuha, who are you talking to?” kuni asks.

“that's lyney, kuni.”

before kunikuzushi could even curse at him, kazuha already left and started up his car again. and now you were left with a drunk kuni thinking you were lyney.

“let's get you to bed, kuni.”

“fuck you, lyney. if you hadn't given them heizou’s contact, then this wouldn't have happened. i would've been the one who was with them by that tree.”

you were stunned. you didn't know he saw you two back then.

“lyney, just tell heizou to take care of them," he says again, completely convinced that he was talking to his friend and not his ex.

“tell him that they're not really a big fan of chocolates or flowers, and that they prefer quality time and physical affection over gifts. tell him that they get cold easily, that they're not a huge fan of horror, and that they're prone to sickness if their health isn't maintained.”

“just tell him to take care of them, yeah? because i won't be the one who's going to do those things anymore.”

you managed to pull kunikuzushi into your room, but you still didn't say a word. you wanted to hear what else he had to say.

“you know, i kinda wish those alternative universes were real,” he started again. “because maybe, in another universe, we would've gotten our happy ending.” you couldn't help but let the tears sting.

“it hurts, lyney. and it's unfair. whenever i feel down, if i just see them okay, then i’ll also be alright. if i had to choose where i’d go home, i would always choose to go home to them. i’m getting tired already. is this still leading anywhere?”

“why can't they just let me love them? why do they have to run away? what are they so afraid of? i know i have my own flaws too, lyney, but i’ll be willing to catch them if anything goes wrong with us.”

you finally decided to speak up. “pretend that you're talking to (name) right now; what would you say?”

“(name)?” he repeats.

“i love you, (name). i know you'd never say it back, but i love you all the same. i love you even if you push me away. i love you even if you become too much to handle. i love you even if i’m not sure if you'll ever love me back again. i love you to the bone, (name). maybe i'm still seeking something we could never have again, or maybe i’m still choosing to give you the love that you won't ever accept, but even so, i love you," he says, a sob coming in every now and then.

“in another life, i’d be your lover, and i hope you'd be mine too, even if it's not in this life if you're not ready yet. i love you so fucking much.”

“and i just want you to love me back.”

“but i’m getting tired, (name). i’m sorry if my love wasn't enough to make you stay, but now that you're happy with someone else, i have no choice but to be happy for you. he’ll get to do the things i wanted to do with you, and you'll be happy with him, and i’ll watch. because i have no other choice.”

“i love you, (name), but i can't do this anymore.”

with tear-stained cheeks, kunikuzushi fell asleep on your bed. giving him one last kiss on the forehead, you pulled the covers on him. and you cried yourself to sleep on the sofa soon after.

“i’m sorry, kuni. i’m here. i’ll come home to you now.”

extra notes.

yeah so that happened. crazy ikr haha

i told u all things were gna get messy

link to the smau playlist is here !! would reco to listen while reading

taglist (open): @yinyinggie @blue-b3rries @ryuryuryuyurboat @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @lilikags @haliyamori @diorlumx @mamafly @zuunotsane @iloveosamuu @featuredtofu @kana-de@xiaoderrrr @f1orent1ne @alhaitie @yelleloww @brain-r0tt @jamieexistss @danfelions @e0nssadrift @lovemari @kunikissr @chluuvr @lazy-sanns @lxkeeeee @swivy123 @sketcheeee @quacking-simp @tiredslepz @vxcmx @kichiy0shi @yingofthemoon @feiherp @sicut-sol @mayuumine @xiaosoneandonly @xtobefreex @bananasquash @im-the-ruler-here @hiraethhv @yumiaur @oughhhhmamamia @beriiov @cindywasneverhere @klanxii @fangygf @draclula @aromaticism @shotosjupiter @lyzisbitchingagain @lovelykrystal @riraaya @aether-darling @kochothehoe

#( smau — how you get the girl ! )#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smau #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #x reader

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ddollfface · 2 months

Text

𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝙅𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙢𝙖 𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 (Pt.2)

Warnings; bad writing, possessive behavior, really ooc (I'm 90% sure that I missed the mark on this one), talks of Diane's rape, yandere if you really squint ig. If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ Oml, tumblr's being a little bitch right now, I literally cannot right now. I'm going to repost Pt.1 and Pt.2. I'm so sorry, I have no clue as to why I have a word limit rn... Just know that this is super ooc :/

When Jack falls, he falls hard, and let's just say that he's never fallen. Throughout his whole life, his only goal was to avenge his mother and bring back her honor, hoping to achieve this by defeating his father, Yuujirou Hanma. Jack, himself, has stated multiple times throughout the show that he has no interest in women, money, or fame, only wanting to achieve his goal of revenge. This obviously means that he has no experience with women, and unlike Kastumi, it's by choice. He doesn't want to fall in love.

I think that Jack doesn't believe in love, that it's something that's fake and fabricated to appease another. There's no such thing as love at first sight and wanting to hold someone for comfort and not just to get off. These thoughts are so out of Jack's worldview that he sees them as just fiction that others' are pathetic enough to believe.

And, adding to that, I think that Jack would have a hard time understanding Baki and his relationship with Kozue. Baki and Kozue have been there for each other, showing true love, something that Jack's never had. Jack eventually learns to respect Baki, after some trial and error throughout the series, but he can't seem to understand why someone like Baki would believe in something as fictional as love.

Moving on from that, I think that Jack's childhood developed this sense of disgust toward love and just being vulnerable in general. I mean, imagine being born to a woman who was raped by the man she was supposed to kill, that's obviously not going to be the best childhood.

I can't imagine that Diane, Jack's mama, would ever show him such motherly love that's expected from a mama to her son. I think that's partially because of how Jack was conceived and her personality. Diane, whether it was a part of her persona as 'Jane' or not, was portrayed as a cold woman who had little regard for human life, and I can't see how she'd ever show warmth toward Jack when he was young.

While we don't know much about Jack's childhood or what happened to Diane later on in her life, I'm assuming that she never pursued relations with any other man, seeing as Yuujiro's actions caused her such distress. This means that Jack never grew up with a father figure present in his life, rather than his absent father, Yuujiro.

I'd assume that Diane would never speak nicely of Yuujiro, seeing as he raped her, and it was her original intention to kill him. Because children are like sponges, Jack probably absorbed all of Diane's hatred and general negativity towards his father, as he should, and internalized this anger.

Overall, Jack's situation growing up left no room for him to experience what love looked like, in a healthy manner. He never had parents who lead a good example, keeping him in the dark about any positives of being in a relationship. And that's what I think the root is for his distaste for being vulnerable, and the idea of being in a relationship with another.

Not only that, but I think that his mama's rape only caused Jack to view sex in a negative light, seeing that's how he was conceived. Now, I don't think that Jack is repulsed by sex in general, but I just think that he doesn't find it as welcoming (?) as other men would. I'm not too sure how to phrase it, but it's just not appealing to him, compared to most men.

However, that changes when he meets you, you, you.

There's no such thing as 'love at first sight' to Jack. He has to know a person for a year or so before he even considers having a lengthy conversation with them, where he actually puts a little effort into speaking with them. Jack's a very closed-off individual who has severe trust issues, as most figures do, and he can't open up to someone he's known for a short time.

This means that for you to catch his attention, that means that there's something special that he saw, whether you notice it or not doesn't matter. Jack saw something in you. Maybe it was how transparent you were, possibly your wisdom, it doesn't matter too much.

(little side tangent)

Though I do see Jack enjoying a partner who's similar to a therapist, someone with a lot of advice to give, someone with a shit ton of wisdom. An observer would be a good fit for Jack, they don't have to be studious or very loud, and he doesn't mind either. It's just that he needs someone who can read him easily because Jack has his own language of sorts (@yandere-writer-momo has discussed this in some of her posts).

It's odd because Jack is oh so blunt, but he holds back whenever it comes to his emotions, wanting to avoid being vulnerable. He doesn't hesitate to threaten someone or tell them that he doesn't like him, he doesn't have a problem with that. But whenever he finds you pretty, or likes the dress you're wearing, even if he thinks you're not taking care of yourself, he'll always phrase it in a "brutish" way.

Instead of saying "Your hair looks nice today" or "Have my jacket, you look cold," instead, he'll say "Did you do something to your hair? It doesn't look like shit today" or "You're built like a stick, you should work out more" as he hands you his jacket (more so throwing it over your shoulders and walking away).

And that's why he needs someone who can read through his insulting behavior, knowing that he's just shielding himself from appearing weak. Being observant is a requirement to having a successful relationship with Jack, and possibly with most of the men in Baki. All of them are so emotionally constipated, that they need someone who can read them like a book to actually have a progressive relationship.

Because of your ability to allow him to open up without words he knows attached, always thinking about you, you, you. He needs to protect you, the one person who understands him on a different level than everyone else. You're able to calm him down with a simple nod, practically telling him that you understood what he was trying to say. You don't just see him as the son of Yuujiro Hanma or as the man who's ruined his body with steroids and intense training techniques, instead, you see him as Jack.

The initial attraction he had toward you, when you first crossed paths, was more superficial than what I was talking about in the previous paragraph. It's most likely a simple case of curiosity that drew him to you. You somehow stood apart from others, causing his eyes to drift to you every time he scanned a crowd. It's possible that you were overly positive, keeping a smile on your face no matter what, or you were oddly quiet, silently observing everyone.

It could've just been your looks that made you attractive! Though Jack is emotionally stunted, even he can appreciate a nice piece of ass!

Either way, throughout the time and as your relationship progresses, the more you two talk, the more he begins to respect your character. Jack begins to see you for who you are and understands that you see him the way he sees you. (sorry that was a confusing sentence lol)

I'm not too sure if any of you have seen the movie Avatar, but in the movie, they use the phrase 'I see you,' and I think that it fits Jack's personality perfectly. It's more than love to Jack, and he likely doesn't even comprehend that it's love in the first year or so. It's something deeper than that, it's understanding each other on a primal level. Jack doesn't just understand your body and how it moves, or what to do to get it going, he understands how you think, and how you feel. But not in a weird way, in a loving way, y'know?

The two of you are like other halves, you'd have to be for Jack to pursue you. Jack has to know that you're meant for him. He's never even considered dating another person, let alone revealing himself to someone else.

#jack hammer #jack hanma #jack hanma x reader #jack x reader #yandere character #yandere headcanons #baki the grappler #baki dou #obsessive love #lovesick #yandere x reader #yandere x you #x reader #yandere male #baki x reader #baki headcanons #baki hanma #baki son of ogre #bad writing

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