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strang3lov3 · 3 months

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Jet Stream

Joel has his fun with you after learning his shower head has a jet stream setting.

Part two of my miniseries for @noxturnalpascal Can be read as standalone but check out the first part Lather ! Thank you @merz-8 @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi for all their brainstorming on this fic!

tags-soft dom!joel, maybe not so soft dom! joel, overstimulation station, pet name (good girl, sweetheart, honey, darling) crying, fingering, multiple orgasms both clitoral and vaginal, smoochin’, praise, blowjobs, snuggles

notes- thank you for your patience with me! Hope you’re all having a lovely start to your February, please harass me and spank me to get part 3 and my Valentine’s Day one shot out by next week ❤️💖

Kindly edited by @papipascalispunk ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

Joel wakes up early, even on Saturdays. Taking advantage of the little pleasures in life, he watches squirrels and chipmunks run up and down the trees in his backyard, listening to the birds chirp while the sun rises. When the sun rises, he’ll take his morning shower and sigh in relaxation under the hot water. Let it wash over him for a little too long before he scrubs his body.

But not this Saturday. Today, that steady pelting of water on his back and chest feels like a trickle compared to what it’s usually like. Joel’s been noticing this for a while, maybe you have too. He stands in the shower, annoyed at the glacial pace of the suds sliding off his body. After what feels like an eternity passes, he shuts off the water and examines the shower head closely. Yeah, that’ll do it, he thinks. Limescale. It’s built up around the shower head, into all the grooves. This commonly happens when hard water runs through a house. It’s an easy fix.

Joel unscrews the shower head from its fixture then dries off. He goes downstairs and grabs a bucket and a jug of vinegar from his cleaning supply closet. He soaks the shower head in the vinegar-filled bucket for about an hour before taking the shower head out, using an old toothbrush to scrub the grooves and holes in the shower head. Joel hears a creak upstairs and quickens his scrubbing, he doesn’t need you coming downstairs and scolding him for over-exerting himself. Yeah, yeah – he should be asking you for your help and all that, but you’re too pretty for a chore like this, he thinks. Besides, his shoulder is getting better. Not quite as tender as it was a week ago. As Joel wraps up the finishing touches of cleaning the shower head, he notices some etched words that were previously covered by the limescale – Rain, Shower, Jet Stream.

Well, would ya look at that. A mischievous grin forms on Joel’s lips. His brain has been fucking addled thinking about you. You, and the way you came on your own fingers, whimpering his name. How after, you pushed your fingers past his lips, how sweet your arousal tasted on his tongue. How he’s been yearning to touch you, fuck you, but his stupid goddamn shoulder is still hurting. Hurting, but healing nonetheless. God, is he addled. But now, with this nifty little jet stream setting, he can have you melting in his hands in no time. It can do all the work for him, leaving his shoulder unharmed and without disruption to its healing process. He wonders, how many times will he make you come?

–

The day goes by as normal. It’s evening, Ellie’s not home. You’re on the couch with Joel after eating pasta for dinner. You’re knitting a blanket using mismatched yarn, just trying to find some use for the odds and ends. Joel’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch and bouncing his leg, twiddling his fingers. He looks bored, anxious. Seinfeld is on TV, Joel loves this show. He rented the series DVDs from the library in Jackson and claimed to have scratched them when they were past due. “Joel, quit,” you scold him. He’s bouncing the couch.

“My bad,” Joel says. You can feel him staring at you. He’s touching his hair. You turn your face to look at him, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Joel wears an anticipatory look, but stays quiet. You turn your attention back to the TV and he’s now combing his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly. “Hmmm…” he hums, “What’s a guy to do…”

You drop your knitting needles in your lap. “What, Joel?”

“Oh, nothin’,” he says. Joel kind of just gestures to his hair and shrugs, like you’re supposed to know what he’s asking for. You do, of course, but he can use his words. “Ahem,” Joel clears his throat, now twirling a finger around one of his curls cheekily, making a real big show out of it. He’s smiling now.

“Do you need me to wash your hair again, Joel?”

“If you’d be so kind, darlin’,” he grins.

You finish the row you’re currently knitting before wrapping up your work and putting it into a basket and under the end table next to the couch. After pausing the TV, you stand up and Joel outstretches his left hand to you, which you take in your own. He groans loudly as you pull him to his feet where he stands in front of you. There’s something about him today. When you washed his hair last week, he was bashful and awkward. Today, he’s confident with his sly grin, that teasing look in his eye like he’s working an angle. Maybe he’s just excited for another shower blow job, which you’ll happily provide again. You smile too, he’ll be 0 for 2.

When you and Joel arrive at the bathroom, he locks the door just like last time. He’s unbuttoning his jeans, not bothering to hide the bulge in his boxers. You don’t bother with the formalities of your partnered shower as you and Joel undress yourselves. It’s unnecessary at this point, after the fortuitous, amatory events of your last one. Joel notices your smirk before he turns on the hot water. He can tell you think you’re gonna pull one over on him again. That’s fine, you can believe whatever you’d like.

Joel opens the shower curtain. “After you,” he purrs, offering his hand to you as you step into the tub. You stand underneath the stream of water, wetting your hair and letting the hot water warm your skin. It feels stronger today for some reason. “Pressure’s different,” you tell Joel.

“Is it now?” Joel asks, feigning ignorance as he joins you in the tub, cock already half mast. You step closer to him, reaching for it, feeling him grow harder in your hand. Massaging his cock, tracing your fingertips around his thick head and along the veins of his shaft, you bite down on your smile. “Yeah, that’s nice, trouble,” he sighs in pleasure, “Aren’t you something?”

“Feel good, Joel?” you murmur.

“Mhm,” Joel hums, “Feels just wonderful, sweetheart. You’re too good t’me.”

Shampoo and conditioner can wait. You take the time to massage his cock a while longer as you wrap your free hand around Joel’s neck, toying with the curls at the back of his head. They’re not quite wet yet as you’ve been hogging all the hot water, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He lets you stroke his member as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in to kiss you softly. As you deepen the kiss, gently biting his plump bottom lip, Joel pulls away, removing your hand from his member.

“You done yet?” he asks you.

You’re almost offended. Asshole. You were enjoying that kiss. “Not quite,” you reply, leaning forward to kiss him, touch him some more.

Joel pulls away from you as he blocks your hand. He grips your wrist and holds it behind your back as he spins you around, your back now facing him. “Well you’re gonna have to be,” he says. “The lady’s ’sposed to come first. That’s how we’re doing things from now on.”

“Yeah, right Joel. You can’t touch me, your shoulder is still fucked up.” you squirm away from him, but he keeps his hold on you. Gentle, firm.

“Worry about yourself,” he warns in a tone much less teasing than before. He winces as he uses his bad arm to reach for the shower head, “Y’think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

“I…” you trail off as he hovers the shower head above your torso, peering over your shoulder as he watches the water fall down your curves. He hums softly as he focuses the stream over your breasts, feeling you begin to twitch as the water teases your nipples.

“My shoulder is healing, actually. But yeah, it is still a little fucked up,” Joel continues, “Don’t need to touch ya anyhow.”

Ohh, you’re getting it now. Joel thinks he cracked the code. “I appreciate the thought, Joel,” you chuckle. “But if you’re planning on using the shower head to make me come, just go ahead and put it back where it belongs. I’ve tried that already.”

“Figures,” he teases. “You wanna know somethin’?”

“What’s that, Joel?”

“Water pressure on this thing sucked lately, so I was cleanin’ this thing out this morning,” he begins. He keeps your arm behind your back as he sits both you and himself down on the shower bench, keeping your back pressed firmly against his torso. “Does this hurt?” he whispers before continuing. You shake your head no. “Good,” Joel says. “Anyway, wouldn’t ya know it, there’s a jet stream setting on this thing.” Joel nudges a foot between your legs and taps you. “Open ‘em. You stay like this for me.”

He’s speaking with such authority, such a commanding tone. You’re almost nervous. You could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice last week just how severely you pissed him off with the way you touched yourself in front of him, knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. How you further taunted him when you pushed your fingers past his lips, dangling the premise of tasting your sweet cunt over his head. You should have known he’d retaliate.

“Was not a fan of how you got yourself off without me, pretty rudely, might I add. Told you I wanted to help, you fuckin’ deviant.”

Yup, you’re correct. He’s still fucking pissed. He did a good job keeping a lid on it until now. “Joel,” you breathe.

“So yes, you’re right. I can’t touch ya yet,” he continues in a low voice, “S’why we’re gonna see what this does to ya, sweetheart.”

Joel keeps the shower head on the rain setting for this part. With his free hand, he cups the back of your knee and has you set your foot on the bench where you and Joel sit. This way, you’re nice and open for him to do as he pleases. He brings the shower head lower, hovering it over your torso, down your tummy, then your pussy. It’s a nice sensation, warm and gentle. When you lean your head back on his shoulder and sigh softly, he ups the ante. Momentarily, he futzes with the showerhead and switches it to the jet stream setting before bringing it back to your center. He starts the stream at your inner thighs first, working his way inward until the stream is massaging your lips, first one side and then the other. Slowly, he twists his wrist, getting your pussy used to the new sensation. He can’t see much from this angle, can’t feel anything either. He’s waiting for you to jolt and moan to know when he’s struck gold. “Shhh…” Joel quiets you when you do just that. “Oh yeah, this’ll do just fine, hm?”

Fuck, it’s intense. It’s very intense, almost too much. “Joel, fuck,” you cry. You should not have fucked with him.

“Just relax,” he instructs, “You’ll get used to it.” But you’re not getting used to it, not even close. It’s a powerful, nearly electric sort of feeling that takes you wholly as you jerk and stutter in his hold. “Mm-mm, you stay here. Quit your squirmin’.”

“S’too much Joel,” you whine.

“S’kinda the point,” he mumbles, “But you’re doin’ good, sweetheart. Jus’ let it happen.”

Joel rotates his wrist, directing the stream of water in tight, steady circles on your clit. The striking, uncomfortable and intense feeling is beginning to dissipate as your pleasure begins to build. Joel’s hot breath is on your neck, his torso rising and falling steadily. You can feel his warm, stiff package pressing against your lower back. “Joel, it feels so good,” you breathe. “Please don’t stop.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t dream of that,” he replies. The movement of Joel’s wrists never falters, though he knows it’ll be sore in the morning. You move your hips in tune with his movement, eyes squeezed shut and moaning quietly, your open mouth pressed against his neck. He wonders if maybe you haven’t quite realized the circumstance you’re in, what he plans to do to you. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” he mumbles, wearing a smug grin.

Joel lets go of his hold on your leg to touch your breasts with his free hand, kneading your flesh. When he teases your nipples, the sensation of it all is heightened. Within moments, you’ve reached your peak. It’s intense and the feeling lasts long as Joel, with the help of the shower head, helps you ride out your high. Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath as he points the shower head at the floor, letting you relax against him. After a minute passes, you try to lean forward to get up, but Joel stops you by wrapping his strong arm around your torso and keeping you pressed tightly against him. “Ohh, you’re not goin’ anywhere. We’re not done yet,” he coos as he kisses your cheek, your temple.

“I know, but it’s your turn.”

“Oh, not quite. We’re way past turns and bein’ square and even and all that,” he says. “Yeah, that went out the door with that little stunt you pulled on me last week. So let me spell it out for you, darlin’, I am not finished with you.”

“Joel, what are you–” Joel cuts you off by bringing the shower head back to your pussy. Reaching out for something, anything, your hand finds purchase in his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as you tug gently. “Joel, fuck,” you pant.

“Not goin’ easy on ya,” he warns. “S’that alright?” Your heart swells. Always the gentleman, Joel is. You nod against his cheek. “Then you stay just like this for me,” he instructs, whispering quietly against the shell of your ear, “Just like this. That’s all ya gotta do, s’real easy.” He tells you this like he’s giving you a choice, but subtly, he places his hand his back on your knee, keeping your cunt exposed to him for his use. Then Joel, realizing he has a better idea, gently pushes your leg off the bench. Potentially against his better judgment, he takes your own free hand and places it on your knee. “Be a good girl,” he murmurs, trusting you with this privilege perhaps too early in tonight’s endeavor. But he knows you, you’ve always been all bark and no bite – he’s not worried about you. Not a bit.

“I’ll be good, Joel,” you whimper, eager to make this easier on yourself. You’ve never felt a sensation this intense before, and you know to tread carefully with Joel. Especially given what led you to this mess you’re in with him.

Joel smirks, he’s right as always. Already you’re so docile, so well-behaved, so pliant.

He finds your clit with the fingers of his left hand to help him with the shower head in his right hand. After finding that sweet little bundle of nerves with the jet stream, Joel traces along your lips momentarily before pushing a finger inside your warm, wet pussy. “Joel, oh my god,” your right hand leaves its place in his hair and you reach for his bicep instead, not exactly sure what your goal is here. You just need Joel’s comfort, to touch him, feel him, hold onto him for dear life as he delivers you deep and powerful pleasure just moments previously unknown to you.

“I know sweetheart. Can’t do anything about it, huh?” he taunts, pushing in another finger. He curls them slowly, savoring the feeling of your wet heat pulsing around his knuckles. “Y’look very beautiful like this, ya know.” Joel quickens the pace of his fingers. You moan as you beg him for mercy of some sort as he fucks you on his fingers, while torturing your poor, overworked clit with that shower head. It’s sensual, satisfying, and nearly painful all at once. “Doin’ so good. I know you’ve got another one in ya.”

“I don’t know, Joel, I’m– I’m–”

“Take it easy. Focus right here,” he says, curling his fingers faster now. You’re a mess of panting and whimpering as Joel works his magic, stroking that sweet spot inside of you he made short work of finding. You’re soaking his fingers with your arousal as he touches you, a second orgasm washing over you quickly.

You’re panting, heart pounding as you try to come down from your high. “Please,” you breathe heavily, “Please Joel, I– oh–”

“Not quite sure what all that beggin’s for, sweetheart. Told ya what you were in for tonight,” Joel whispers in a honeyed voice. “You got one more, though.”

No way. It’s not possible. This is too much, you’re certain you’ll be satisfied for an eternity after this. “Joel, I don’t think I can,” you cry, hot and salty tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t–”

Joel interrupts you. “Yes, you can,” he says. Joel pulls his fingers and the shower head away from your pussy, giving you another moment to breathe. You’re still breathing heavily, shaking and trembling slightly. Poor thing, not used to all of this. It’s a lot on you and Joel knows this. “I’m right here, I got you,” he coos. He adjusts the way he’s holding you for a moment to look at your face, wipe away your tears. His brow furrows as he searches your face, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your jaw. “Breathe, baby. S’okay. Ain’t gonna break.”

You nod, stutter out some incoherent response. Joel’s eyes are warm and soft as he calms you, kissing your lips and your nose.

“What do you think?” he asks, “Reckon you got another one in ya. Just one more, hmm?”

“Okay,” you agree with a small smile. “Okay.”

“Attagirl,” Joel praises. He brings the showerhead back to the space between your thighs but you catch his wrist, pulling it away from your body before he has the chance to use it on you again.

“Want your fingers,” you request in a soft voice. “Can you just use your fingers on me?”

Joel nods. “We can try it,” he offers. “Was startin’ to get cold anyway. Why don’t you switch it back to the regular setting and put it back where it belongs?”

You nod and follow suit, playing with the settings before settling on the regular shower feature. You stand up to put the shower head back, letting the water wash over both you and Joel. On your way back to sit with him he holds your hips, steadying your shaky legs. You sit back between his legs, spreading your own. You gasp softly when Joel cautiously brings his right hand to your pussy, starting out with slow, careful circles on your clit. He groans in pain and shakes his head. “Does it hurt?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he answers. “Why don’t you help me out, hm? Use your own hand? Kind of your specialty, ain’t it?” Joel reaches for your hand and then stops suddenly. “Or,” he says, “What if we try something new?”

Oh, man. You’ve experienced a lot of firsts tonight, you’re not sure you can handle another.

“That poor clit of yours is all worn out huh?” Joel asks. “C’mere. Turn around and face me,” Joel helps you up and then has you straddle his lap, his rock hard cock is between your bodies, the tip all blushed. “I’ve gotten pretty good at doin’ things with my left hand.”

You’re quick to retort. “Except for getting yourself off,” you tease.

“Oh, yeah. Rub it in,” he replies. He snakes his left hand back between your bodies, his middle two fingers pushing inside you. “Was thinkin’ could see how it works out. How’s this feel?” Joel curls his fingers inside of you in a repetitive come hither movement, stroking your g-spot.

“Good,” you tell him. It does feel good, if not a little unfamiliar.

“Just focus on my fingers,” he instructs. As Joel works his fingers inside of you, you rest your forehead on his own. Breathing steadily, focusing on the feeling it stirs inside of you. It’s a new, different sort of pleasure. “Good girl,” he praises in whispers, “So good for me. You’re almost there.”

You begin to rock your hips into his hand, ignoring the way the hard material of the bench feels on your knees. Your clit is still untouched yet, here you are, that familiar feeling beginning to bloom in your tummy. Nothing’s ever made you feel the way you do right now, here in Joel’s arms. You’re liquid in his hands as your last orgasm begins to build, It’s deeper inside you, a slower build to ecstasy as Joel fucks you on his fingers.Your climax washes over you in waves, white-hot pleasure coursing through your through your body. “Oh my god, Joel,” You come with gasping breaths and moans for the last time, your fluttering walls choking Joel’s fingers and your arousal pooling in his hand.

Joel holds you tightly in his arms as you come down from your high for the last time tonight. You’re not sure how much time passes, but when you feel ready, you lift yourself up on your knees and reach for Joel’s cock, guiding him to your entrance.

“Woah, woah–” Joel stops you.

“You don’t have to do a thing,” you try. “Just let me–fuck. I need you, need to fuck you.”

“After all that? You still want more?”

“Wanna take care of you,” you plead. You want him so bad, need to feel him, need to be closer to him, you need to watch his face.

Joel smiles sadly as he shakes his head. “You know I can’t give that to ya,” he strokes your cheek, continuing, “God knows I wanna feel you too, sweetheart. We can’t get ahead of ourselves with my damn shoulder and all that. Just give me a few more days, hon.”

You nod in agreement. He’s right, unfortunately.

“And then I’m all yours,” Joel reaches for your ass and lifts you up, then sits you back down on the bench after he stands up. He stands in front of you, holding his heavy cock between his thumb and first two fingers, bouncing it slightly. “Stay right there,” he says. “You just sit all pretty-like for me, just like ya always do.”

Joel reaches for the back of your head and guides you to be closer to him, parting your lips with the tip of his cock. He tastes salty, heady and masculine. You cup his balls and squeeze gently, playing with them for a moment before gripping the base of his dick. Joel pushes into your mouth slowly. You swirl your tongue around his tip and his shaft, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks. You love the way he tastes, how he feels, how he jerks his hips slightly when you trail your tongue along an extra sensitive spot of his member.

“So good,” he praises, “Always so good.”

Joel maintains eye contact with you as he draws in and out of your mouth, watching you with warm, adoring expression. He loves your eyes, how you watch him as he fucks your mouth.

Moments go by and Joel’s squeezing his eyes shut, his movements starting to become frenzied. “M’close, hon,” he warns. You reach for his hand with your own and squeeze it a couple of times as if to tell him it’s okay, that he can let go. Joel does just that. He comes with a deep groan, his soft tummy and his chest heaving as he breathes heavily, loudly through his nose. His thick, heavy cock twitches in your mouth as ribbon after ribbon of his hot spend coats your tongue and your throat, which you swallow with pleasure. Joel lets out a strangled sort of noise when you begin to pull your mouth off of him, but first licking his head a couple of times. “Too much, too much,” he warns urgently. Interesting. He can dish it but he can’t take it. But you keep your thoughts about Joel’s overstimulation threshold to yourself. “M’not done with you sweetheart, I promise,” Joel says as he comes down from his high, his breathing now beginning to steady. “Few more days and you’re in trouble.”

Your insides flutter at the prospect, what a welcome threat. You smile as Joel takes your hand and lifts you to your feet, shuts off the shower and reaches for your towel. He helps you to dry off, then dries his own self off before helping you to your feet. Still holding your hand, he takes you to his bedroom and lifts up the covers. You get underneath and Joel tucks you in, walks around to his own side of the bed and joins you. Knowing what you need after all of this, he doesn’t bother asking before pulling you into his side, kissing your cheek and the top of your head. Holding you close and telling you what a good job you did. Making sure you’re okay, asking if you need anything, water, a snack. Whatever. “No,” you tell him before closing your eyes.

Just as you’re drifting off to sleep, Joel whispers in your ear, “Hon.”

“What, Joel?” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.

“We forgot to wash my hair.”

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #lather #jet stream

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bunnysbrainrot · 1 month

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Too Sweet

A series inspired by Hozier’s ‘Too Sweet’.

Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Content: No sexually explicit content, at least not yet. Some slight fluff? Slow burn vibes? Joel is kind of a dick (for once in my writings), but a protective dick.

Summary: You’re one of the newest arrivals in Jackson after a long trip to seek refuge. Now that you’re settling in, one of Jackson’s most integral men is the head of your first patrol. Will Joel be able to set aside that gruff demeanor for the sake of meeting someone new?

A/N: I’m so sorry about my recent hiatus, everyone. I’ve thought of this series for a while, to get me inspired again and to work towards something bigger. I’ve also thought about having some sections/chapters be from Joel’s perspective. Thoughts on that? Sorry it’s nothing spicy yet, but we’ll work up to it. Tensionnnn

The sound of birds echoed outside your bedroom window. By some miracle, you’d found a community, after so many months wandering either alone, or with the occasional group, but never for long. The mattress beneath you squeaks as you shift in your bed. Normally an irksome noise, but it reminded you that you were finally safe.

A faint light of dawn trickles through the gaps in the curtains, streaking around the room in a periwinkle hue. Your sluggish grog was slowly wearing off, while you processed your plans for that day. It was a Thursday, according to your new watch. God, you hadn’t realized how much you missed being able to tell the time. Who knows truly how long you’d been out there. Days blurring together, the minutes excruciatingly drawn out without company.

It was nice to be a part of something again.

Finally, you sat up in bed, rolling your head to stretch your neck. How long had it been since you had a proper pillow?

A smile crept onto your face. You’re better rested than ever, but an anxiety still ate away at you. Today was your first patrol outside of Jackson. You weren’t alone, of course, but the expectations you held for yourself could be your downfall.

“Okay, let’s do this,” you whispered to yourself.

Walking over to your dresser, you eyed yourself in a dusty mirror above the chest of drawers. A kind woman named Maria had provided you with a few new outfits when you’d first arrived a week ago. In the meantime until today, she’d given you those days to process and settle, and you were grateful for her patience.

When Maria had asked you what role you’d like in the community, she could see the steely glint in your eyes. Well seasoned from years of fighting and running, yet still a kernel of a protective rage.

You had expressed to her of your journey before finding Jackson. On that day she asked you how many of the dead you had taken out thus far.

“In total, by myself, well over three hundred, I would say. I don’t know, I think I lost track at some point.”

Her expression shifted to one of assurance, like they’d just gotten a worthy addition to their town. Someone who could protect what they’d all built.

She explained the basics of patrols, the routes laid out on an old map, with hand drawn trails and indicators of the area. You made an attempt to remember as much as you could, but surely you’d get good practice being out there, actually doing it.

————

You check yourself before heading out the front door. This time of year, the weather has started to warm up, so your opted for a t-shirt, jeans, a light jacket, and a ‘new’ pair of hand-me-down boots.

The air outside was cleaner than you’d imagined. The scent of early morning breakfasts wafted through the breeze, bringing a pang to your stomach. Maria hadn’t mentioned how long patrols would take; you debated if you had time to grab something from a stall in the heart of town. Other residents had been given spaces to cook for the community, giving out easy meals for these hardworking people.

Turns out you did have time, to your relief. In a matter of minutes, you held a piping hot breakfast sandwich in your hands, its heat seeping into your chilled fingers.

A few folks wave a friendly ‘hello’ as you trek to the Southern side of Jackson, to its border wall to meet up with your patrol group. There was a huddle of both peiple and horses, you noticed, as you got closer. One of the people turned to you, giving a wave in recognition.

“Hi, am I late? I thought I’d have time to get breakfast,” you explained.

There was a woman with kind eyes who spoke next, “Not at all, these bastards just insist on getting up at 5:30.”

“That sure is an early start.”

“It gets them cranky like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied, quickly cut off by a new voice.

It was a gentleman who called to the group, “We all here?”

His voice wasn’t commanding, but it did put people into gear to check themselves. Clearly he was the one in charge of this patrol. The look in his eyes told you all you needed to know.

He might be someone to watch.

You turn to the woman, “I’m sorry to ask, but I don’t know anyone here yet. Is there any way you could give me a run-down of who everyone is?”

With a smile, she listed off the names of your group members, pointing them out. Some of them noticed and waved, others gave a slight smile, and others asked for your name. All were introduced until it was down to the man who’d rounded the group.

“And, that’s Joel. He’s head of the patrol.”

Your eyes shot to Joel now that you could put a name to the face. There was a moment of pause when you met his gaze, a moment frozen in time from his stare. He scanned over your face, down to your shoddy boots, and back to your eyes.

His expression doesn’t soften as he says, “Glad to have ya with us. Should be a horse on the way for you.”

Joel turns to face the gate as he rummages through his pockets for a folded map. He unfolds the paper until it spans across his horse’s shoulders.

The rhythmic clonk of a horse’s hooves came from behind. A familiar face approached with a stunning mare, it’s Maria.

“Mornin’ everyone, that should be it,” Maria traded off with you, handing you the mare’s lead. She spoke louder, announcing to the group. “Y��all stay safe out there. Shouldn’t be too bad, but it is getting warmer. Keep an eye out for groups.”

Members of your party nodded before Maria walked off, giving greetings to other folks who’d just begun to bustle around.

Your attention shifted back, specifically to Joel. It seemed that whatever he says, goes, so that’s what you’d follow.

Two men at the top of the wall made their way to the edges of the gate, hauling it open. Golden sunlight peeked above the mountains ahead, casting the world in a yellow glow.

Joel nodded, then a gruff, “Be smart. Stay close.”

————

The sun was overhead now. You’d been out here for hours, keeping an eye out for any infected that roamed too close to camp. A while ago, you spotted one trapped in an abandoned cabin. Which was quickly dispatched by one of the men in your party.

That cycle repeated almost wordlessly amongst you all. Hardly a single word had been uttered aside from Joel’s occasional command or redirection.

For the most part, things were going smoothly. And after a few minutes of some peace and quiet, you realized you’d strayed away from your spot in the formation. Your horse had fallen in pace with a beautiful brown stallion, riding on top, was none other than the leader.

Joel.

You’d turned to see who it was, but were quickly met with another intense stare. Your gaze darts to the side as you issue an apology, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get so ahead of everyone.”

For the first time his expression does soften. A slight hint or kindness in his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkle with his slight smile.

“It happens. Just… keep a lil’ distance. You’re new, can’t have you rushing ahead without someone else with you.”

The words would form a lecture if it weren’t for his tone. It wasn’t scrutinizing, but rather soft and protective.

His advice brings a smile out of you. A genuine one, for the first time in a while. Perhaps he wasn’t as much of a hard-ass as you’d assumed. You tug your horse’s reins to slow her pace, creating a few feet of space between you and Joel.

Yet even still, that smile he gave you kept your heart racing.

It would be a horrible idea, to fawn after him.

Right?

That thought had no effect on the tightness in your chest, or the fluttering in your stomach. Perhaps it was simply happiness that someone so hardened could be so easily friendly. A hard exhale later, you told yourself that it was the camaraderie that flustered you.

—

The group had made their journey back to town. Aside from the occasional runner, there wasn’t much defense needed this morning. Once your group returned, you’d have lunch and trade off with the next group, and share your findings before they venture out.

You had let your mind wander as you rode with the group.

In a split second, your mare bucks in fright. There was no time to assess what scared her before you were shooting ahead, flying past your patrol group.

“Nonononono- NO! It’s alright, it’s alright-“ you cry, but it falls on deaf ears of a scared animal. Tugging on the reins made no difference. You still shot ahead of the others, directionless without someone to guide you.

“It’s alright, baby, you’re safe! You’re okay. It’s gone!” You plead to the horse to slow down. The reassurances don’t seem to be enough.

A thundering set of footsteps is heard behind you. In a swift move, Joel jabbed his horse with his heel, pushing himself to race ahead of you.

With the rush of the air and galloping hooves, you could hardly make out his instructions.

“What?!” You shouted.

“Pull the reins! And I mean pull!”

You gripped the leather of the reins, drawing them to your chest, tugging your horse’s head back and away. Her pace slowed, but she kept running, now to the left. You could make out a curse from Joel as he redirected.

In a stroke of luck, he made some headway. Joel’s horse zoomed forward, and merged directly in front of yours, and the interruption slowed the mare’s pace just enough.

Another tug of the reins helps her into a steady beat. Joel was directly ahead, now turned to the side to block more of the path. Your horse huffed and threw her head frustratedly. In that short time you had no clue just how far you’d strayed away - looking backwards told you that it was at least a few hundred meters.

Embarrassment showed in your flushed cheeks and wild expression, looking to Joel for some sort of scolding.

“I think something scared her. I.. I didn’t get a chance to see, it all happened so fast-“

Joel raised a hand to stop you mid-sentence. He didn’t wear a smile like before, but his expression wasn’t angry. If anything, he had that protective look once again.

“I know. They’re skittish, ‘specially her. She needs a little more control than the others.”

It’s a reassurance, truthfully. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren’t on the shit list on the first day. Your breathing had slowed down now, though your heart still raced wildly in your chest.

He scanned your face thoroughly before he asked, “You alright?”

A nod is what you could muster. It’s enough for Joel to give a nod back before waving to the folks behind you, the rest of the group, to call them over.

“Maybe next time I’ll have a more confident horse. No offense….” you paused, “what’s her name?”

Joel’s lips tugged into a smile, “That’s Belle you’re ridin’. Poor girl hasn’t been out in a while, so she’s not as warmed up to this. But you did good with her, all things considered. Handled it well.”

You reached down to pat Belle on the side of her cheek, caressing her carefully.

“It’s okay, Belle. We’re with you. You’re alright now.”

A smile vanished from Joel’s face when you look back up at him. He cleared his throat, his eyes skirting away until your party began to join up with you two.

“It’s all good. Belle got the jitters. Let’s head home.”

With that explanation out of the way, the team could finally resume their return home. Along the way, Joel didn’t have much else to say, much to anyone actually. His silence was solemn - definitely not any invitation to strike up conversation.

Perhaps that’s how he’d always be - resigned, reserved, and off limits to everyone. A part of you ached at the thought of it.

For Joel, that loneliness could be his downfall.

Hi guys! Thanks for reading, I’m sorry if it seems a little boring, but it’s for the sake of the story building. TRUST it will get nasty soon. 🥰

#fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #bunny writes #smut #smut writing #the last of us fanfiction

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florencemtrash · 4 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Five

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Gore, violence, some angst

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Meryl struggled forward, trying to keep from tripping on his floor-length robes. A head of ivory hair trailed out after him at a leisurely pace. A blood red hand at her side gripped a slick shortsword. The blade mimicked the cruel curve of her horns.

You remembered her from the party.

Teal silk and blood and the lake.

Koschei.

His hand dove into the folds of his robe, withdrawing a dull knife. You caught her smile before she dodged Meryl’s swift kick, sword arching down in a swing that cut cleanly through his back leg.

You didn’t stay to watch the second swing that nearly separated Meryl’s head from his shoulders. The street was still eerily silent.

Meryl hadn’t gotten the chance to raise the alarms.

You ran to the other side of your apartment, knocking one of the windows open. The smell of smoke, acrid and bitter, flooded your nose. Your stomach turned, nearly emptying itself of your dinner.

A blanket of haze covered the bottom floor, the flickering of flames beginning to lick up the outer edges of the massive room.

The Alcove - your home - was on fire.

Your apartment was built separately from The Alcove with no direct path linking the two together. Normally you would simply walk down the stairs and enter through one of The Alcove’s main entrances with its hand-carved archways and stone pegasuses. But with the murderous female lurking outside, that was simply not an option.

You pulled the neck of your sweater up and over the lower half of your face, ignoring the stinging of your eyes. You steeled your nerves and slid your foot out, finding purchase on the decorative molding that lined the walls. Many times you’d thought about scaling the walls instead of trekking down dozens of flights of stairs. You’d never actually done it.

The soft skin of your palms protested as you shimmied your way down and then jumped the last ten feet onto the walkway. There was no grace in your movements, and no time to dwell on the rough landing before you began flying down the stairs, begging the Mother and Meryl to give you time to cross the expanse of the library.

Meryl’s apartment lay on the opposite side of The Alcove on the first floor, and unlike your apartment, had a door leading directly to the stacks. The white rune, carved into Meryl’s door, stared at you like the eye of a god.

Some vague myths about ancient giants crossed your mind. They’d been worshiped in these lands before the rise of the High Lords with brains so vast you could climb in through their ears and walk amongst the grooves like a child in a corn maze. You felt like that child now, the familiar turns and patterns of the atheneum slipping away into mist.

You had no patience to walk the last flights of stairs. You threw yourself off the lower walkway, ankle twisted painfully beneath you as you crumpled onto the floor.

Just make it to the door. Just make it to the door.

The first duty of a Librarian was to save the atheneum. Always.

Again that white rune stared at you from across the floor, winking with the flashes of firelight as the flames gorged themselves on book pages.

Save the Alcove.

You ignored the pain in your leg, running towards the door with gritted teeth. Three bodies littered the floor, blood blossoming around colorful robes like roses in springtime.

Save the Alcove.

You wrenched the knife from the sliver in the wall, slicing your palm open with a sharp intake of breath. Warm blood spilled out, dripping onto the floor and then down the wall as you pressed your palm against the rune, muttering the words all Librarians knew by heart - words that would seal The Alcove from the outside world and draw all oxygen from within.

“Beali tchnemonon aschzernai belar-” The rune began to glow, rivers of white light tracing the carving on the door. The doors began to groan as threads of magic shot outward, weaving through the stone and preparing to seal it shut.

“Stop. Say nothing.” A voice said, soft as velvet and hard as scales.

Your tongue froze up, the rune dimming as teeth sank into the soft flesh of your mind and began to tear through your mental shields.

___________

Azriel chewed carefully, washing down the meat with a swig of sweet wine. All throughout dinner Helion had been glowering at him, one hand gripping the golden hilt of his steak knife like he was prepared to aim it between Azriel’s eyes.

“Did you spend the whole day with her?” Feyre had asked him when he’d finally arrived for dinner twenty minutes late.

Everyone else was dressed in their court attire. Even Cassian had changed out of his leathers and was currently pulling at the high collar of his shirt. But not Azriel. He’d arrived late in plain clothes, hair disheveled and face impassive. He gave a nod in response to Feyre’s silent question before settling down beside Cassian. His brother threw him a knowing wink.

Rhysand looked pleased with himself. Feyre looked pleased. Everyone was pleased… everyone but Helion.

“Finally! The Shadowsinger arrives!” The comment rolled off his tongue and fell flat, “Now we can eat.”

“I apologize, Helion. I lost track of time.” Azriel said truthfully. He had lost track of time. He wished he’d lost track of it for longer. Then he might still be in your living room, dreaming about kissing you.

Dinner was a business affair. Theories about Koschei’s next plans punctuated by the appearance of roasted chestnuts, soft-boiled quail eggs, honey rolls, and stuffed duck on the table.

“He can’t escape the lake.” Rhysand said, “Though the gods know he’s trying.”

“He can’t escape yet.” Helion countered, brows furrowed in concern, “There’s a piece we’re missing to this.”

“The Cauldron.” Feyre ran a lazy finger over the lip of her wineglass to disguise the unease settling in her stomach, “He’s searching for it.” She tilted her head towards Azriel, “Az found evidence that some of Koschei’s followers have been breaking into the temples further up north.”

Helion shook his head, “It wouldn’t do them any good to search an old hiding place. And it’s not like the legs of the Cauldron are with the priestesses anymore. They must be looking for something else.”

“What else is in the temples except old books and ceremonial artifacts?” Cassian asked.

“Old books can sometimes be the most powerful objects in the world.” Helion said with a small smirk, “I wouldn’t look down on them so much.”

“Tell that to a sword.”

“Tell that to a two-thousand page text thrown at your head.”

Cassian grinned, “I would dodge it. Easy.”

“With that inflated head of yours, I’d hardly be able to miss.”

Azriel smiled inwardly. That sounded like something you might say. Not even four hours since he’d last seen you and he was missing your gentle smile, the crease in your brows when you read, the occasional jangle of your bracelets when you shook out the cramps in your wrist.

Feyre thought long and hard, staring at the surface of her wine like the answers might materialize there. She couldn’t get her mind off the Cauldron. The most important events that had taken place in the last fifty years could be tied back to its magic. The magic that currently flooded through Nesta and Elain’s veins.

With its power anything seemed possible - even separating a deity like Koschei from the lake where he’d been confined for centuries.

“What if they’re not looking for the Cauldron itself?” Everyone looked at her, waiting to hear the High Lady’s next words. “What if they’re just looking for something tied to it?”

Cassian dropped his knife to the table with a clang.

“Nesta.” He breathed. He immediately reached out across the bond, feeling Nesta stir on the other side. She was still safe in Velaris, although he pitied any poor soul that tried to go after her.

“Or Elain.” Feyre continued.

It’s no secret they were Made. They wouldn’t need to break into a temple to figure that out or to find out where they’re staying. Rhysand sent his bonds down the bond, one hand reaching out to rub her thigh.

Nesta and Elain could handle themselves, but that didn’t mean Feyre could shed the protective nature she’d developed through her formative human years.

Who else then? Who else has taken power from the Cauldron?

Jurian.

He’s human. He has no magic that Koschei could want. And the human queen has been long dead too.

Helion glanced at Cassian who only waved him off. Rhys and Feyre did this often - getting lost in their private conversations and only sharing their thoughts at the very end.

Meanwhile, Azriel was having his own private thoughts.

Immunity, the innate biological process of recognizing and protecting against foreign entities, is a phenomenon that can be extended and applied to magic.

“How does it apply to mating bonds?” Azriel asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.

The fire crackled steadily, warming your back as you sat hunched over a volume titled “An Exegesis on the Works of Bhenaui The Stone Giant”.

“Hmmm?” You mumbled.

He pointed to the last page of your paper where an introductory sentence on mating bonds had ended abruptly.

“You didn’t finish your thought.”

“Well, that’s because I’m not completely sure what my thoughts are… at least not yet.”

“Would you tell me your thoughts? Even if you’re not sure?”

You motioned for him to hand it over, the papers floating over to you on a phantom hand made of shadows. You flipped through the pages absentmindedly, your previous thoughts coming to mind as you held your work.

“Parents, children, siblings - they all tend to have similar forms of magic. Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Azriel nodded. He’d already read that section of your paper. Although the thought of sharing some magical connection with his half-brothers and father made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny your logic.

“I always thought that mating bonds must be some special extension of that. Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

“Like the difference between two sets of keys, versus a key and a lock.”

“Maybe? I suppose that’s not a terrible analogy to make, but I’m not sure.” You shot him a smile, “You’re beginning to think like a Librarian, Azriel.”

His heart sang in his chest, shadows flurrying around him. You’d quickly learned that his shadows gave away more than his face ever would.

“What an insult to Librarians.” He quipped.

You snorted and shook your head, tossing a pen at his head. He caught it easily, just as you knew he would.

A faint flutter of panic grew in the background of his mind, unprompted and unexpected. He pushed it to the side, focusing his attention back on what you’d told him back at your apartment.

“Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Koschei had been brother to The Weaver and The Bone Carver - both dead after centuries, if not more, of confinement to The Prison and The Cottage. It didn’t make sense for him to be searching for them. Perhaps he wanted the Cauldron to bring them back from the dead, but even that seemed like the stretch. Koschei didn’t strike Azriel as the kind of being to care for the safety and life of his siblings.

If Azriel were in Koschei’s position, he wouldn’t be after the Cauldron. Not necessarily. The thing he’d really be dying to know was who had separated him from his power, and how.

“Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

Like a lock and a key.

“Uh… Azriel?” Cassian gently grabbed Azriel’s shoulder, shaking him.

Inky shadows climbed up his hand, the light of his red siphons swallowed up by the darkness that had begun to pour off of Azriel.

That panic was steadily growing into something he couldn’t ignore and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. You with your brilliant ideas and a theory that he still couldn’t quite grasp, like he was trying to hold salt water in his hands.

“Something-something feels wrong.” Azriel gasped out, a scarred hand clutching at his chest. “Cass, something’s not right. Something’s not right.” He repeated the words until he finally recognized what was wrong.

It wasn’t his panic that he was feeling. It was yours.

___________

You screamed, thrashing about on the floor as you gripped your head between your hands.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

You pulled at your hair, slapped your skull like that would be what it took for the female to relinquish her hold on your mind.

She was buried inside like a parasite - a virus slowly taking over the cellular machinery, copying it all down as she rifled through your memories as easily as a picture book.

You shrank away from her as she lingered on one memory in particular.

It was your fortieth birthday, although you didn’t look any older than eight. Helion sat on the floor, long legs extending beyond the cramped space between the fireplace and the couch. It was a small apartment you shared with your mother with its pale green walls and yellow daisy curtains.

He filled every inch of it with light. His smile was so dazzling you thought he must have been one of the fairytale knights you’d spent every night obsessing over. He certainly played the part, gifting you a wooden pegasus with wings that hovered a foot above the ground when you asked it to.

“You can’t keep doing this, Helion.” You’d stayed hidden at the top of the stairs, your pegasus nuzzling into your side and then going still.

“She’s my daughter, Leda. What am I meant to do?”

“You’re meant to leave us alone.”

“Leda-”

“She’s growing too slowly. You saw her today, she should be fully grown by now.”

“...I know.”

“If anyone finds out who she is… the power she possesses. Mother help us…”

“I know. I’m-I’m sorry, Leda.”

“You can’t keep doing this.”

That was the last childhood memory you’d had of him, and when the pegasus’s magic had worn off, leaving him stiff and immoble, the novelty of having a knight for a father had worn off too.

You were crying now, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks as the female above you clicked her forked tongue. Her eyes were two chips of moonstone split by wide, rectangular pupils.

“A High Lord’s bastard.” She sang with pleasure. “How fun.” She leaned down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it up so forcefully you had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming. “No. No.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment, “Don’t stop. I want to hear you scream. Scream.”

With a roar of anger you latched onto her arm, immediately feeling a flood of memories and emotion pour into your mind.

Sick, twisted satisfaction. Pleasure. Meryl’s decapitated body hastily hidden behind a pillar. When she’d gone down into the lower levels of The Alcove, searching for the diary, she hadn’t expected to see him there. Hadn’t expected him to give her a hard time. Hadn’t expected him to fight back.

The three other fae, slaughtered in haste. Koschei would not be pleased. He would not let her join him on the lake. But she had the book. She had the book.

The female hissed, the disorienting motion of being in your mind while you were in hers causing panic. She’d been trained to keep others out of her mind. She’d endured far more training than you had. So why couldn’t she kick you out?

More memories. More emotions. Rising fear. You soothed it using the training she’d received. She wasn’t the virus. You were. You felt all her memories. The terrible aftermath of war on the continent. The feeling of being burned alive.

The female was trying to break away from you now, but you wouldn’t let her, not even as the smoke grew so thick it clogged your lungs. You felt her memories as if they were your own, and so long as she was in your mind, she was forced to experience it all as well.

His power is beneath the lake. Trapped. Buried. He can’t leave his soul behind. Can’t diminish himself any further. He can’t leave the lake.

Koschei.

The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake?

Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!

Get the key. Get the key. Get the key.

The scream of her brother’s voice as Koschei splits his head in two.

When your eyes burst open they’re so bright the female turns her face away, sobbing. Your blood soaked hand searches the floor for the knife you dropped, the knife you can see is less than a foot away. But you’re not looking at it. She is.

She registers what you plan to do. Every thought of hers reflected in your mind like a ghostly afterimage. But it’s too late.

You grip the knife in your hand.

Slam it through her eye and out the back of her skull.

It’s a strange feeling to be in someone’s mind when they die. To feel like it’s your body slowly fading from existence with one final breath.

The female’s body slumps motionless over yours, and her final memories of her brother play out one last time.

…Then it’s just silence and the crackling of the ever approaching flames.

When Azriel reaches The Alcove, the windows have all burst, angry tongues of fire licking the sky and gasping for breath.

“Y/N!” Azriel roars, shooting off towards the door so hard the cobblestones crack beneath his feet. “Y/N!”

White lights begin to splinter up the stone walls, filling invisible cracks that begin to take the shape of ancient runes. Swirls, symbols, repeating lines trace their way over the windows, sealing them shut as the flames start to hiss in protest, eating up the oxygen faster than they can draw breath.

The door has been blown apart, the inside of The Alcove nothing more than a hurricane of ash and smoke. But when Azriel reaches them, he slams into an impenetrable wall of magic.

“NO!” He crashes against the barrier. Light scatters outward, but holds against the shadows that burst forth from Azriel’s body. Power explodes from his siphons, but still the magic holds.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He flies up to the windows and tries again to no avail.

The bond is still there, burning away in his chest with a passion.

He will not lose you. Not like this. Not today.

He touches back down on the ground, legs braced on the street as blue light begins to wrap around his chest and arms. His shadows mix in with them like ink in a tumultuous sea.

He’s about to let his power flood out when he sees it - two dim pinpricks of light that pass through the barrier as easily as sparrows diving through the air.

You’re nothing more than a gray shadow, your knees and hands coated in a mixture of ash and blood, as you emerge from the roaring flames. Your eyes gleam a pale yellow, seeing and unseeing at the same time. You make it to the front steps and when you stumble, Azriel is there to catch you, one arm looping around your waist and you’re immediately thrust into another memory.

It’s dark and cold in the cellar. So dark that even after two days the most Azriel can do to prove he still exists is to slap his legs, then his arms, then his face. Then he knows he’s still alive. It’s the pain that helps him remember.

“Y/n. Y/n. I need you to look at me.” Your eyes are unfocused, still glowing as Azriel helps you walk forward, one hand clasping yours close to his chest. “Y/n. Y/n. Please. Darling, please.”

His mother sings to him, a gentle, sweet melody that’s filled with more sorrow than words. His hands are heavy with gauze and ointment, the lingering pain magnifying and shooting through his small body whenever he moves them to touch his mother’s face or to wrap his arms around her neck.

But this is the only hour he’ll get with her this week. So he ignores the pain. He savors only the feeling of his mother’s arms around his weak back and the song she sings, hanging onto every word and committing them to memory.

You’re vaguely aware of Helion’s deep voice shouting your name. When he touches you, you can feel his relief as acutely as the rumble of thunder before rain. The emotion rolls over you, calming your heart.

For a brief moment you’re still the little girl he placed on top of the pegasus on your fortieth birthday. For a brief moment your mother is still alive, suppressing the smile on her lips as she watches the creature wobble to life, shake its wings, and begin to fly.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

We're getting into the action/plot now folks! Hold on tight because I have IDEAS! It's going to take time for me to explain it all in the story, but I promise you I have a plan

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#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x mate reader #the inner circle #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #the day court

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spdrvyn · 3 months

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miguel and his sunshine human gf that loves to annoy the shit out of him and sometimes in order to stop her/calm her down he has to put her in an air jail 🤭

ardor and annoyance

miguel and reader who's a bundle of energy and joy. having to tame your late night rituals is no easy task, but it's one that he's always willing to take. what's more important than having your dear lover in bed with you?

pure fluff. reader can be seen as either civilian/spider. is it really one of my fics if i don't write about how much miguel hates himself even by just a little bit

dividers by @cafekitsune

What Miguel learned from being a leader, setting an example, being his mother's son, and serving as a hero was patience.

It was a value that he had slipped up on from time to time, more often with himself. If he ever found himself at wit's end with someone else, he would mope until it passed or wait to get some precious alone time and healthily expresses his emotions by making a mess of his quarters and breaking down until he'd get tired and just sleep it off, restarting this precious cycle.

Eventually though, he had begun to no longer exhaust himself by getting angry. Unless the entire multiverse was at stake (ahem), then he'd have to spring into action. But his main priority now is to fix the problem, get it over with, rinse, and repeat.

When you entered his life, he realized that there was more to his ridiculous routines, more than his self-destructive attitudes, and that true patience came with love and caring as well. Obviously, he's light years away from being content with himself, but you redirect him, navigating through when that dastardly cycle repeats, so that you can wash it away and make him anew.

Miguel isn't the only one that has his layers peeled back though, there's so much that he notices about you. That composed and mature persona that you set up for yourself, that has built good albeit only professional connections with the other spiders eases its way into a bubbly and joyful demeanor whenever you're around him.

It almost didn't make sense, Miguel just seemed like the kind of guy to not want to do that with, to not want to relax around. He couldn't even relax on his own, the thought that anyone could feel comfortable in their own skin around him was shoved into the back of his mind. That connection that he so painfully needs is put aside for prioritizing the safety of everyone everywhere else.

Your true nature is infectious, to his dismay. It's too difficult to avoid the care that you're so insistant on giving him, it started with working overtime, to enjoying working overtime, to going over to Miguel's place for work purposes, to going over to Miguel's place for non-work purposes to kissing him for the first time, and now you're dating.

The catch with Miguel having let loose around him was that all that conserved energy circulated around his apartment, whenever he got home from another long day at the Society, he'd climb into you doing five different things all at once. Reading, watching a show, watching a baking show, baking a cake, and texting.

It was hectic, nothing that he couldn't handle, but how you're not on the verge of collapsing probably deep into the trenches of the night concerned him. For slightly more selfish reasons, Miguel doesn't like not having you in bed with him. This wasn't as extreme as the missions he took up at work, but it was a mission nonetheless.

You're... Busy, Miguel doesn't know what with. He sees yarn, he sees cookie dough, he sees a laptop, tablet, phone, and headphones, and so many other trinkets that are buried under the pile that you've built on the kitchen counter. Your focus shifts between each individual station, and Miguel shifts closer and closer to you quietly.

You're occupied on the laptop, occasionally looking at the stove while you're doing so. Then returning to your yarn and now knitting needles? Before mixing the cookie dough even more and even liking the mixture off of the spoon, humming to yourself contently.

You don't even notice that Miguel is right behind you, until he secures you against his front and lifts you up with a squeal.

"Miguel!" You whine, squirming against his solid arms. Your feet swing in the air and you try to push his hands away from your midsection, but there's no use in trying to free yourself when it's with him anyway.

"Go to sleep. No más tonterías, cariño." His voice is fogged by sleep, as his grasp on you tightens. You turn slightly with what little space that you have and you can see his slumber muddled stature. Tousled hair, relaxed expression, eyes half-lidded, and he raises a brow at your staring. "What?"

"Nothing," you sigh, "I'll go to sleep, you just have to let me go."

Miguel shakes his head, rocking your swinging body from side to sidet to go along with it as well. "No, I don't trust you." There's a humorous fry to it, you accentuate the pout on your lips, and he laughs.

It takes a little while for you to convince him to put you down, you can't say this is the most uncomfortable position for you. Whenever you're around Miguel, you always wind up in his arms one way or another, but this time that principle is just being used against you. The conversation shifts, less about your captivity, more about Miguel's day, your day, anything new outside, anything new in Spider Society. The position you're in, the silky nature in his voice, it gets you groggy and Miguel can sense it.

He wins.

He handles you to the bed properly now, laying your once tireless form onto the comforter as he tucks you in. You don't even try objecting anymore, the stove is still on, the video on your laptop was probably still playing, and that knitting project will have to remain unfinished until tomorrow, but it was fine. You know that everything is fine when Miguel gets into bed with you, pressing his lips to the top of your head in one long kiss.

He wins this little dispute of yours, but you know that you've won at life knowing that your nights end like this, engulfed in his embrace, the sound of his breathing bringing you to a deep sleep as well.

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frannyzooey · 4 months

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Short Days, Long Nights: 17

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Mature (mentions of child loss and grief, aka we go through Joel's past one more time as he says goodbye)

A/N: We are at the end ❤ I am insanely nervous since the whole story was built around this final chapter...I really hope you like it. I am going to make a separate post with all my thank you notes, but for now: @the-scandalorian I literally could not have done this without your guidance and reassurance and constant support. I owe you everything, and I love you. @mrsmando thank you for looking this over for me, for being such an amazingly emotional ride or die and for inspiring me since day one of this fic with your massive brain. I adore you. finally, @bageldaddy thank you for yelling at me in the doc when I needed it, and for your constant Joel advice. You make me better. ❤

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“That’s it, honey. You’re doin’ so good.”

“Yea?” Straightening your back, you let your hips roll with the movement under you. The inside of your thighs burning with overuse, your voice is slightly breathless. “Like this?”

“It’s like you’re a natural,” he muses, giving you a wink.

“I don’t know about that.”

A trampled path guides the horse more than you do, a circle carved into the grass in front of the cabin and you let out a breath, feeling yourself relax for the first time since you first climbed on.

He didn’t believe you when you’d said you’d never been on a horse until you stood next to it, terrified. He had helped you up that day, climbing into the saddle behind you. When he noticed that you were paying more attention to the way his broad body encased yours from behind, he cut the lesson short with a teasing scold.

Only to continue it in the bedroom later that night.

He’s silent for a moment as he walks next to you, until June’s babble from the edge of the field calls out across the space.

“See?” he says. “She thinks so too.”

She starts to crawl towards the two of you, and Joel is quick to stride over, picking her up.

“I feel like I got the hang of it,” you say tentatively. “I’m not sure what to do if I have to take off on it though.” You look at him, the scenario only now occurring to you. “Hang on. What if I’m holding her and we have to run? How will I hang onto her and the horse? How –”

His hand comes to rest reassuringly on your thigh with a squeeze, stopping you.

“Don’ focus on that right now.” He shifts June in the crook of his elbow so that her outstretched hands can touch the horse. “Just focus on learnin’ the basics. When she’s down for her nap, I’ll get on with you and we can practice goin’ faster. Okay?”

He holds your gaze for a moment, sunlight catching the brown in his irises and curls. He raises his eyebrows in question, and you nod.

“Okay. Yea, okay.”

Giving the horse a pat on its neck, you let June brush her hands over its coat. Her tiny fingers dig in, pinching the animal in exploration.

“Easy, baby girl. Easy,” Joel murmurs. “You gotta be gentle. Like this.”

He takes her hand in his, petting the horse. Having no patience for the slow movement, she tugs her hand free to make a quick grab for the animal, and he chuckles, stepping back - only for her to erupt into a wail.

“Aw come on. Don’ gimme those crocodile tears, baby.”

Lifting her into the air, he holds her above his head and looks up at her scrunched face. His biceps strain the sleeves of his t-shirt, his curls fluttering in the breeze as he suspends her until her cries turn into whimpers, then giggles. Only then does he bring her down, kissing her on the cheek.

“I knew you were fakin’.”

–

The plan was to leave tomorrow, at first light.

Weathering weeks of up and down emotions, you’ve been constantly wavering between wanting to follow the others in hopes of finding somewhere safer for June and being terrified that you’re making the wrong decision. A silent war within yourself, always waging as you prepared.

When it was just you and Joel, there were times that you had been afraid. You had eventually made peace with the idea that something might happen to you, even though you would have fought with everything you had to prevent it. The fear you feel now, however, is on a whole other level. Something more base, coming from deep within you.

It’s so much harder with June. So much more left to lose, so much more at stake.

A bone-deep type of fear that took root in you the moment you realized you were pregnant, it only grew until it was something overwhelming. Something that choked you with nerves the day she came into this world. Something that reached down into the heart of you and grabbed hold of reserves you never knew you had. Something that turned you into another person entirely when you thought about anything happening to her - a very real possibility given the unknown you were willingly venturing into.

In comparison, Joel seemed…calm. Always the case when he had a clear direction and a purpose, you couldn’t tell if it was because he truly believed this was the right thing or just because he was so caught up in the planning of it all.

Plants harvested and then pulled up to save the root system, seeds meticulously dried and saved in scraps of paper, everything protected with as much safe keeping as you could provide it. Stores of food organized and packed in makeshift saddle bags, clothing and rags for diapers and two sleeping bags and medicine and first aid supplies and knives and anything else you could think of that might be useful, already accounted for and packed away.

All of it placed by the front door, waiting.

You run down the mental list one more time while rocking June, eventually placing her in the crib after cradling the soft, warm weight of her sleeping body for a moment.

“She go down okay?” Joel looks up from his place on the bed, the lantern glowing warm edges around the curve of his shoulders. The light splays across his skin, and he sets his book to the side.

“Yea, she was just a little fussy.” Yawning, you crawl into bed next to him. “I think she can feel something in the air. Our nerves or something.”

“Probably,” he agrees.

Sliding down under the quilt, you watch the shift of his muscles as he stretches to turn out the light. Joining you, he rolls on his side so you’re face to face.

Getting comfortable, you scoot closer. “So. Our last night.”

“Looks like it,” he replies, grasping your hand. He runs your knuckles over the seam of his lips, giving them a kiss.

“Are you nervous?”

He considers for a moment. “Yea. I know it’s time, but I can’t say I’m ready for what’s waiting out there.”

You nod.

Content silence rests between you, a cricket chirping right outside the window, the gentle current joining the rustle of leaves as they stir in the warm night air. Your fingers play idly with the sparse hair that covers his chest, and he watches you in the darkness.

“Are we doing the right thing?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper.

“It’s a little late for that, honey,” he teases, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. When you don’t reply, his tone softens and he continues. “Hey now. We are. I know it.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure. I don’t know if anyone is with any decision they make, honey. ‘Specially not parents. You can only hope, ya know?”

You draw your lip between your teeth, and he gently plucks it out with his thumb. Guiding your face to his in the darkness, he runs his touch across your cheek, stroking the soft curve.

“Look at me.”

He’s right there, holding your gaze. Brown irises turned black in the dark room, holding you steady. There, like he’s always been.

“This is the right thing. I know just as well as you that there is plenty out there to be afraid of, but I got you. I got you both. I ain’t gonna let anything happen.”

A tear slips from the corner of your eye, dampening the pillow case. Your fears getting the best of you, words come pouring out.

��What if she crawls away while we are sleeping, or what if she gets sick? What if someone tracks us, and tries to take what we have?” You swallow hard, taking a deep breath. “If something happens to either of you, I –”

You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, and he’s gathering you in his arms, pulling you close. The steady thump of his heartbeat underneath your cheek greets you, and you bury your face in the soft crook of his neck.

“I know we have to, but I don’t want to leave. This is our home.”

He softly shushes you. “We’ll make a new one. Together.”

Cradling your head in his hand, he lets you cry, his fingers stroking over the crown of your hair. Wrapped in his hold, you let it all pour out: not deep, shuddering cries of despair but rather the silent cries of mourning, of nerves strung too tight for weeks.

His hand slips down to rub between your shoulder blades and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to commit everything about this moment to memory: the mattress underneath you, the heat of his body, the husky rumble of his voice. The soft sheets and the worn blankets that have held the heat of your naked bodies countless times. His side of the bed that smells like him, his things on the nightstand, the feel of him in the middle of the night when it’s too dark to see. The scratch of his beard against your palm when you sling your arm over him in the night, just to find the bare patch along his jaw with your fingertips.

You think about everything that’s ever happened in this bed: his confession about Sarah, the intimacies you’ve shared with each other under the safe veil of darkness. Sounds that these walls have absorbed night after night: his low chuckles and his murmured praises and his endless, reassuring love.

When you’re done, Joel guides you back down into the mattress, using his hold on you to close the distance between your mouths. A gentle kiss for your lips, then your nose, then each one of your tear damp eyelids before finding your mouth again.

You shift up, giving him access to deepen it as his tongue slides against yours, your body arching into the familiar taste and path of his kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair, slip down the breadth of his back, and curl around the back of his arms.

Your thighs hug his hips, his head dipping to find more of your skin. Laving the edge of your jaw, he gives your throat an open mouthed kiss as his hand pushes your sleep shirt up. Up, up, exposing the bare skin over your sternum and when his lips find your nipple, he draws into his mouth with a reverential suck. He laves his tongue over and around it, playing with the stiff bud as he rocks his hips into yours and when his teeth gently scrape, a moan catches in the back of your throat.

The last time you’re ever going to feel him in this bed, you savor it.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groans softly when his fingers find your slick warmth.

“So do you,” you breathe, reaching down to guide his fingers inside you. They slip in with a slick, snug stretch, and he rests his forehead along the plane of your chest, watching your hand move with his. Crooking his touch to reach a spot that makes you keen, he rubs against it and you muffle your sounds against the firm round of his shoulder.

Quiet. You have to be quiet.

“Fuck me,” you plead against his skin, and he works his fingers faster, pulling back to watch your face.

“I wanna make you come like this first. Gonna be awhile before I can take my time with you again.”

You say nothing, the air seizing in your lungs as you arch into the tight, syrupy warmth he’s building inside you. Clenching around his fingers, you’re tipped over the edge by the heft of his stiff cock rocking against your thigh.

“There’s my girl,” he praises.

His words wash over your heated skin, his eyes flashing in the dark. Slipping his fingers from you to drag damp over your skin, he pushes your legs open to make room for himself.

–

Leaving you sated and asleep, he slips from bed as quietly as he can, stepping out into the inky night. Tugging a sweatshirt over his head, his feet are bare, the hem of his pajama pants skimming the grass as he walks down to the shore.

A simple handmade cross made from the leftover wood from June’s cradle is gripped in his hand.

He kneels and taking his time, begins to delicately smooth out a patch of sandy earth. His fingers pluck away wayward strands of grass and toss out tiny pebbles until it’s cleared. A stack of stones he’s been gathering for the last few weeks rests in a pile nearby, waiting.

Satisfied, he rests back on his heels.

“Hey, baby girl.”

Silence greets him, and content with that response, he continues.

“We’re leavin’ tomorrow.”

Reaching for the biggest stone, he turns and sets it just at the edge of the lapping water. He then balances the next one on top, slightly smaller than the one underneath it.

“I’m not sure when we’ll be back, if we’ll ever be. But I’m gonna mark a spot for you just in case. My favorite spot.”

He adjusts a third stone on top of the others, his hand lingering to make sure it stays put.

“I never got to –” he starts, steadying himself. “I never had a spot for you. Just kept you in my head, and in my heart.” He holds the fourth stone in his hand, looking at it. “I always wanted a place to visit you. A place to come to when I missed you, a place to talk to you.”

He sniffles, using his knuckle to wipe at a tear that slips free and then places the stone on top of the others.

“Now I know that you’re always listenin’.”

The water washes over the base of the stones, the ripples sparkling in the moonlight and he finishes the cairn in silence, listening to the sounds around him. When he’s done, he looks up, and stares at the expanse of stars above him.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. His voice wavers, and he swallows hard. “For everything. I know you know this, but I’ll – I’m always thinkin’ about you. I’ll always be here when you need me, okay? I will never stop bein’ your dad.”

A few more tears roll down his face, and he lets them go. The corner of his mouth eventually lifting, he clears his throat.

“Maybe you could watch over your sister for me, make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble on this trip? Sometimes she gets this smile on her face and it’s just like the one you used to get.” A low chuckle slips free, and he hangs his head with a shake. “It's like I know she’s about to do somethin’ that she ain’t supposed to do, and all…''

The rueful smile on his face softens, his voice lowering with a rasp.

“All I see is you.”

More tears come, silent paths gliding down his face and he sits alone with his thoughts then, on the edge of the river.

That night comes back to him: the sheer terror he felt, the despair, the helplessness. The rage that filled him when he woke to find out that her body had been left behind, twisted and broken and all alone in the dirt somewhere. Like no one even cared to bury her, even if he knew that wasn’t the case.

The blur of black days that followed her death, when he longed to join her.

The weight of the gun in his grip, the thud it made when he whipped it at the wall with a scream when he missed.

All the years after, trying to lock the memory of her away. The shadow of a person he became, all the things he did without an ounce of regret.

A man with nothing to lose, because he’d already lost it all.

When his tears dry, he looks up at the sky again and finally, he remembers a different memory.

A warm night sky just like this one, the slippery cushion of a sleeping bag under his back and a petite, squirmy body stretched out next to him.

“What’s that one, dad?” A swirl of stars above them, her small finger points at the brightest one.

She sits up, the silhouette of her unruly curls calling to him and he brushes his hand through the soft texture of it, making up a name.

“Dad! Stop it,” she laughs. “For real. What is it?”

He makes up another one, and the girlish peal of her laugh echoes in the dark; the kitchen light from the house glowing behind them.

Still feeling her curls against his palm, he takes the cross in his hand, and pushes the bottom of it into the dirt. Standing with a soft grunt, he brushes the sand from his knees and looks at it for a moment.

A tiny thing, shadowed by the protection of a tree.

Protected and safe, finally.

“I love you, baby girl.”

With one last look at the cross, he makes his way slowly back up to the cabin.

–

With June secured to your front, you walk around the inside of the cabin one last time.

Domestic warmth infused in every room, items you have to leave behind paint a picture of the people that lived here: the westerns he read in his early days of avoiding his want for you stacked next to his side of the bed. The flowered quilt that you tucked yourself under on rainy days spread over the mattress. The bathroom, with its neatly folded yet mismatched hand towels draped over the bar next to the sink.

The living room, with the dust that once coated everything gone, and the kitchen, with a neat row of washed pots lined up next to the dish rack that holds a mug used this morning.

The clean windows that would let in the bright sun, save for the tarp along the back that has been secured in place.

Even the strangers that line the hallway live in cleaned frames, and walking past them, you wander into June’s bedroom to take one last look at her cradle. Impossible to bring with you, it hurts the most to leave behind. You’re still looking at it when Joel comes in from outside, calling your name.

“In here,” you call back, and he comes to stand behind you, curling his hands around your hips. You lean back into him, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, reading your mind.

“I’ll make her a new one, honey. I promise.”

You turn and give him a watery smile, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

“A big girl bed this time, I think,” he coos down at June, and she reaches for him, fussing when he doesn’t pick her up.

Cradling her squirming body, you follow Joel outside.

Next to the porch, the horse shifts under the weight of the saddle bags, stomping her feet and you watch as Joel soothes her, sliding his hand down over her coat. Ropes securing everything, she is weighted with your belongings and with the plan to walk beside her as much as possible, you start to untie her reins while he closes the front door.

The original tarp that covered it is dragged back into place, and when everything is as it was on that first day you found it, he gives it one last look.

Coming to join you with his rifle slung over his shoulder, he takes the reins.

“You ready?”

At the sound of his voice, June looks at him and smiles, a tiny dimple piercing her chubby cheek. He returns it, reaching out to grasp her foot with a wiggle.

“Are you?” you ask. Your brow knit with gentle concern, you nudge your chin towards the water.

“Your spot is beautiful, by the way,” you say softly. “June and I said goodbye this morning. It’s perfect for her.”

He says nothing, gratitude spilling from the depths of his eyes. Looking at you for a long time, he then leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“I guess time heals all wounds,” you muse, thinking of the man you came here with and he pulls back.

Looking down at you both, his expression turns into a sort of solemn earnestness.

“It wasn’t time that did it.”

Your fingers locked in June’s fist, she pulls them into her mouth for a nibble and his hand reaches up to stroke the curve of her cheek, and then your own before leaning in for a kiss.

Walking away from the cabin, you look back when you reach the far edge of the original path that brought you here: the only visible indication of the structure a slice of muted, dingy blue in a sea of lush green. Leaves crunch underfoot as you walk beside him, the slope of his broad shoulders a map that you’ve always followed without question. With another couple steps, the cabin disappears from view.

Looking forward, you lace your fingers with his and walk.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction

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haeryna · 6 days

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i would recognize you in a million lifetimes ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru

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summary: they say that a child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. you would've been more inclined to believe it, if you weren't the only person who got burned. but now, suguru and satoru are offering you the salve and you're not sure whether it's enough to fix the scars that they left behind.

tw: sfw! angst with a happy ending, satoru is a cocky shit, suguru spends half the time on his knees in this (BUT NONSEXUALLY), more abandonment mentions because it's crucial to the plot, mentions of homophobia. lots of misunderstandings.

notes: divider by @/saradika-graphics. sorry, this chapter is a little shorter lol but surprise!! love how i said i was gonna take a break and then one day i suddenly realized kind of what i wanted to ensuing conversation to be. ending is a little open-ended; as of right now, i have no further plot points, but obviously that could change in the future (feel free to let me know where you want it to go/what you want me to write more about set in this universe!). thank you to everyone who loved and supported me when i first started this series; it was my first time really writing anything for a fandom, or publicly sharing it for that matter <33

There always seems to be an innate misunderstanding that occurs when people encounter Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, in that Satoru is the one who calls the shots and Suguru merely follows. Though Satoru might have seemed like the arrogant one, and Suguru the mild-mannered, you are intimately aware that the depth of Suguru’s pride almost matches his patience. It’s why he always tends to win whatever petty squabble that starts, why he always obtains the results he hopes for. Suguru always wins, you’d complained once, and his cat-like eyes had crinkled in amusement as he watched you. Not always, had been his response, but you knew it to be a lie. You had watched as he left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, his past lovers drawn in by his honey-sweet words and careful, calloused hands. You were no exception. If Satoru is a work of art, then Suguru is the painter, and you the lonely observer watching from behind the museum glass. You wonder if the same pride prevented him from finding you years ago.

It makes it seem all the more laughable as you watch Suguru kneeling before you through the water that clings to your lashes. The man that had never given in on his knees for someone who gave it all. You are suddenly horribly aware of the air that passes through your lungs in shuddering gasps. Your skin suddenly feels too tight for your body as your heart pounds to the tune of the faint ticking of the clock. “Please,” Suguru whispers at last, as his thumb runs along the back of your hand. Satoru’s arms tighten around you as if committing you to his memory, before letting go. You can say nothing as you stare down at your fingers traitorously intertwined with Suguru’s.

“What if I don’t want to listen?”

Satoru inhales sharply, and Suguru pauses, before reluctantly releasing your hand.

“Do you mean it?”

“I wasn’t aware that you two cared about how I felt about your decisions,” you retort, watching how Suguru’s expression falls. It doesn’t feel quite as satisfying as you thought it would. You push the thought down.

“Baby–” Satoru starts, and the facade you’ve built up begins to crumble.

“Don’t call me that!” you snarl, pushing yourself from the floor. His eyes are pleading, but you steel yourself as you continue. “I’m not your lover. I’m not anyone special to you, considering how quick you were to replace me.” Your voice breaks. “Mocking me like this is low, even for you.”

Satoru stiffens. “You were special to me. You still are.” Your hands curl into fists as he continues, voice twisting into something more arrogant. “Though, I’m sure Kenji couldn’t live up to me.”

“Don’t.” Your tone is raw as you frantically try to reel in the anguish you’d been storing for the past five years. “Don’t you dare try to use my letters against me.”

Satoru has the decency to at least look ashamed. The look on his face is an echo of when he would frown all day if you didn’t give him what he wanted. Satoru is selfish, you know, all heat and arrogance and childishness. You know it’s partially your fault; you were the one that spoiled him off of your love in the first place.

Suguru calls your name softly, and you turn to face him. He’s still on his knees, gazing up at you with the devotion of a worshiper and the guilt of a sinner. “Tell me what I can do to make it right,” he murmurs. “Tell me what I can do and I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

“Why didn’t you take me with you?” Your words are fragile, even to your own ears. Please tell me it was because you didn’t have enough money. Please say that it’s because you were in a rush.

“That night was chaos,” Suguru admits. “Satoru was downright unconsolable, so it was up to me to purchase the tickets, to pack everything we wanted to take into two bags, to book the hotels and make appointments to find apartments.” He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the piercing ice forming in your veins at the expression.

“But you had enough money to afford a third.”

“Yes and no. Realistically, we maybe could have, but, to subject you to the conditions we would have been in?”

Angrily, you swipe the tears away from your face. “You still should have asked.”

Suguru’s eyes are impossibly tender. “I know you, my beautiful, stubborn girl. I knew that if I gave you that plane ticket, you would have followed us no matter what you truly wanted. I was willing to make the sacrifice. How could I have asked you to do the same?”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!”

“Call me selfish, then. Call me controlling, or foolish, or stubborn, but I will never regret ensuring your safety. I will never regret the fact that you were not subjected to the struggles we faced there, the things we had to do to survive. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” You feel nauseous, stomach twisting violently into knots. The lies taste so sweet, but the truth is something that you accepted long ago. “Subjecting me to what? Your lifestyle? What struggles do you face when you have so much money that you don’t know what to do with it?”

Satoru begins to protest, but you hold out your hand, silencing him as you watch Suguru. The betrayal of him cut deeper than you’d care to admit. Satoru might be cocky, but it is Suguru’s hand that holds the trigger, his hand that sealed your fate. “I know you,” you tell him. “I know you, and I know when you lie. Lie to me one more time and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that I never see you again.”

“There is no lie-”

“You don’t do that to the people you love!”

“I did it out of love, why can’t you see that?”

“No, shut up!” Your hands are shaking, teeth gritted as you try to stop the rush of angry tears that threaten to escape you. “You don’t get to act like I’m the person in the wrong here. You two, of all people, don’t get to treat me like this.” The sun is setting, harsh shadows casted onto Suguru’s hunched shoulders as if it is a load that is physically too much for him to bear. The words spilling from your mouth are sharp, desperate to make them bleed in the same way they’d hurt you. “You can’t tell me you love me, or that you missed me, when you left me here for five years. I was alone for five years, and for the first three, I thought something had happened to you two. Do you know how scared I was?”

Satoru reaches for you, but you shove his hands away. “I had to find out from a fucking television broadcast. I had to find out about Satoru’s debut through a television broadcast, and I had to hear your voice coming from the radio instead of through the phone. For three years, you let me fear the worst, and now you’re acting as if I’m crazy? You’re upset to find me bitter when you’ve treated me like a toy you can return to, and throw away when you’re bored? You made me this way!”

Suguru closes his eyes. “I will never stop regretting how I’ve hurt you, my love. I knew how badly you wanted to get out of this town, to go to college and make your mark on the world. We didn’t know that…”

We didn’t know that you’d still be here.

“Maybe if you’d bothered to find me, you would’ve known.”

“Please don’t blame Suguru for it.” Satoru’s voice is tired, as he runs his hands down his face. “Suguru might have been the one who handled our move, but I was the coward in the end.”

Impressively, your heart manages to shatter into even smaller pieces. You can only gaze blankly at him as he continues. “I’m sure you’ve suspected it by now, but when we left, Suguru and I were dating. We still are. You know how it is where we’re from, where we are.” He curls in on himself imperceptibly, a star ready to implode. “I knew my parents were bad, but I didn’t know they were that bad. The thought of you looking at me, at Suguru, the same way they looked at us– I couldn’t.”

You can’t help the almost hysterical laughter that tears through you. “Are you serious? That was your reason?”

Satoru stares at you as you cover your face with a hand. You’re afraid that if you don’t keep going, you’ll start screaming instead. “Of course I knew,” you choke out, half-laughing and half-sobbing. “Suguru’s neck would be all marked up every time you two hung out without me, and Satoru suddenly stopped flirting with every girl that wanted to sleep with him. Just because everyone else was stupid and in denial, doesn’t mean that I was.”

“You never said anything.” Suguru gazes up at you, eyes horrified.

“I figured if you wanted me to know, you would just tell me.”

“You always looked so uncomfortable.”

“Because I was jealous!” Your words hang in the air, and in this moment, for better or for worse, you know that there is no going back. “I thought I was losing my mind. I was jealous of both of you for having the other, and I hated myself for it. What kind of sick friend was I, to be selfish enough to not only desire one of you, but both of you at the same time?” You shake your head, wishing that it could be enough to remove the feelings from your heart that you had been clinging onto for so long. “When you left, I missed you. I thought it would go away. I hoped it would go away. Who else would be stupid enough to love the people who abandoned them?”

The words pour from your mouth, acidic with your pain and despair. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you two? Why was it so easy for you to move on, while I was stuck here wasting away? Was it really that hard for me to be loved by you? I was there too!”

“Darling,” Suguru says, stumbling over the syllables of his words. “You loved us?”

You have to fight the visceral urge to slap him across his painfully beautiful face. “That’s what you took away from this?”

“I dreamed of this for so long,” Satoru tells you roughly, delicate fingers tilting up your chin. An interviewer had once said that Satoru’s eyes seemed so cold and distant. You feel like he was trying to burn you alive as he examines you. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Are both of you out of your mind?” you snap, rearing back. Satoru’s resulting chuckle floods your face with heat as he gives you a lazy, predatory smile. “Only for you, sweetheart.”

“What Satoru is trying to say,” Suguru interjects, dazed, “is that we didn’t think you felt the same way.” Same way? You feel lightheaded, as if you’re not quite there. Same way?

He continues on as Satoru leans against the wall, content to watch your reactions. “I, we, just assumed that you…I don’t know. We…”

“How could I not?” you ask, voice breaking. “How could I not love both of you?”

Before you can even react, Satoru is surging towards you, arms pressing you closer into his body as he holds you tightly. “You mean it?” he asks, voice uncharacteristically desperate. Needy for you, as he greedily savors the feeling of you in his arms. You can only nod, one hand twisting into the back of his sweater as you bury yourself into the slight hollow where his collarbone meets his shoulder.

“Please,” Suguru breathes, taking your hand into his, rough fingers curling around the back of your hand as he strokes your palm with his thumb. “I know things aren’t going to be the same. We’re okay with that, we just…” He swallows, thickly, before pushing forward. “We just want to make things right, take things slow, and maybe then you can learn to love us again.”

Gently, you pull yourself away from Satoru’s grasp. “It’ll be hard,” you admit, tugging Suguru up off the floor and towards you. “But, we’ll make it through.” A slight smile tugs on your lips, the sincerity bleeding through into the softness of your eyes. “Besides, I don’t need to learn how to love you two again.”

“Especially because I never stopped.”

Later, you’ll realize the depth of the Gojo’s betrayal to their son. Later, there will be just as many kisses as there are tears, plans to be made, and boxes to be packed. But for now, all you can feel is the overwhelming warmth in your heart as you finally allow yourself to be hugged by two of the people you adored most in the world.

Welcome home. I love you.

#haerinwrites #idol!satoru gojo #rockstar!suguru geto #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x geto x reader #suguru x reader x satoru #satosugu x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst

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wannabelife · 5 months

Text

fantasize – csc

pairing: seungcheol x fem reader

genre: smut

synopsis: your friend hurt his ankle in his dance class and needs you to help him to do the basic things. what you didn't know it's that you gonna need to give more than just a hand.

warnings: long ass built-up, i think that's the longest smut i've ever done, nursing student yn, sub cheol, dom service reader, cheol from the last live type of image, unproctect sex (be safe y'all!!! that's just fiction), oral m receiving, fingering, handjob, voyeurism, praise and use of the word slut

a/n: last one of the year!!! planning some things for 2024, and lmk if you have any requests :))) happy holidays guys and a beautiful new year to y'all <3

you were dozing off in front of your school books when your phone starts to ring, startling you. the number "never answer" popped up on your screen, and contrary to what it says, you click on the green button accepting the call.

"hello?"

"hello my bestest best friend"

"what do you need now, jeonghan?"

"my god, not even a 'how are you?' 'how's your day?' nothing?"

"go on, jeonghan, i do not have the patience"

all you can hear is his breathy laugh on the other side before he finally goes to the point. it seems harsh of you, but that's normal in your friendship, none of you minding this kind of treatment, knowing it's just how it is with you.

"okay... actually two things" you roll your eyes as he speaks, and thanks god he is not seeing you, because he would whine about that.

"cheolie got his ankle injured in the dance class yesterday, im taking care of him, but he keeps sighing in pain, and i dont know what to do"

"did the doctor not prescripted any painkillers?"

"i lost the recipe on the way back home from the hospital"

"well, that's seungcheol's fault for trusting you" you take a breath "ice and a generic painkiller won't be a problem if the pain aint going away"

"nice"

"and the other thing?" you ask.

"so, saturday..."

"no! no, i cant."

"let me finish it, at least!" you sigh and he goes on "saturday i have something to do during the day. dont you have like three or four hours of your day just to check on him... make sure he has something to eat, takes shower, his medicine and everything... the man can't even leave his bed"

"hmm alright. that's ok with me."

"why were you so reluctant to give in that easily?"

"oh come on, hannie... you know you. that's, by far, the easiest thing you've ever asked from me. its quite cute, actually."

"i told seungcheol to ask someone, but you know... he can be stubborn sometimes... he keeps saying he'll be ok by himself"

"what if he really wants to be alone... i wont go if he is not comfortable with it"

"he can't barely walk, yn. he needs some assistance"

"ok... just make sure he knows im going"

"i will. thank you so much, that's a huge help, really. you are the best!"

"i know"

saturday comes, and you decide to go to cheol's around 11pm. you will probably buy some takeout to make sure he eats. you've texted him a few times during the week to ask how's the recovering, and it seems its getting better. it feels like your help will just really need to be an assistance.

getting at his place, you disk the pass code on the front that jeonghan texted you beforehand. you slowly come in, letting your shoes by the door. you've been here a few times, but it's not like you are used to it.

"hello? cheol? im here" you exclaim in a way he can possibly hear wherever he is around the house, but no answer comes.

you let your things on the living room, walking carefully further down his place "seungcheol?" you say, looking around shyly.

you get near to his bedroom door that is closed. what gets your attention is the whinning coming from inside it. your eyes getting big with worry, remembering jeonghan saying how he does it when in pain.

another whine comes, a bit louder, with a groan after it "cheol? can you hear me? are you ok?" you get closer to the door, not wanting to open before he says you can. you are really worried, what if he's trying to get up alone, or even worse, if he fell down while trying it... another groan "seungcheol, can i come in? are you fine?" you try again and nothing.

you hear a gasp this time, and you just decide to go in, what if something happened? he is not answering. you open the door of his room lightly, a little squeaky leaving your month in surprise.

"yn!? fuck!" seungcheol exclaims when he catches your presence, but you close the door fast enough to cut his words. there aint no way you just saw seungcheol half naked on his bed, hand on his hard cock for your eyes to see, a vein popping up while he strokes his length. he wasn't reacting from pain, but quite the opposite.

you walk fast to the living room, not knowing what you should do, until you hear him from his room "yn, wait! wait, please!" he grunts, trying to get his body up from the bed, his pants already in place as he tries to stand up.

you hear the metal of his crutch clicking, and you run over to his door again "no, no, seungcheol, are you standing up? stay there!" your voice gets a bit higher from usual so he gets the point.

you are standing outside the closed door like a coward, your ears touching the wooden material of it, so you can hear whatever he's trying to say from inside.

"i wanna talk to you" he says "i can walk"

"no! stay there, im serious!" you exclaim again, worried that he might fall or hurt if he gets up. you hear a breathy laugh from the other side.

"are you going to stay outside or are you coming in to talk?" he says "if you dont, im getting up"

"are you dressed?" you ask and he scoffs, laughing a bit again.

"of course im dressed, yn. come in, please"

"well, you weren't before" you say it quietly for yourself before finally opening the door.

he is sitting on the edge of the bed, the crutch hanging on his side. he looks at you at his door, he cant help the look he gives you up and down, you feel your cheeks getting flushed from his stare as you glup dryly.

this happens just for a few seconds before he looks down his feet and say "im sorry, i didn't know you were coming. that shouldn't have happened"

that can just be jeonghan's fault, and you wanna roll your eyes again because of him. he told you he would make sure seungcheol was ok with it.

"so, i am sorry then. jeonghan said you were fine with me coming. i can go if you wanna be alone"

"you can stay. its not like i didn't want you here, i'd just finally have some time alone" you understand him, he is on that bed for days and jeonghan is probably not leaving his side for days. he is happy he has a friend like him but he is only human and also like his alone time too.

"i am really sorry for earlier" he says again

"lets leave that there, right? its ok" you say to him and he gives you a subtle smile "i brought you lunch" you state.

"thank you" he smiles again "i just need a shower first, then we can eat"

"alright. take your time" you say, getting on your back to walk out the room.

"hm... yn, i-" he starts but stop it quite shyly. you look back at him.

"what?" you encourage him to keep going.

"i need help to get on the bathroom" you panicked, and you hate that you let it so unworn that he immediately realizes it "no! you wont see anything! just help me walk there" you nod, relieved, going his way to help him.

you grunt tossing over your bed again, stretching your arm to the table beside it so you can reach your phone to check the time. 2:43am. you cant sleep, you've been in bed since midnight and that's stressing you out.

you sit, laying on the heardboard, your hands going to your face, another grunt leaves in frustration. why the fuck seungcheol have to have such a beautiful cock? its literally making you lose your sleep. and its not like you have completely seen it, he was half covered with the blanket and you peak only a few seconds, but the prominent vein and perfect length can't be possibly forgotten.

the real question is, why are you even losing sleep because of some dick? you are starting to get annoyed. so you play a random podcast on your phone, hoping it will help you fall asleep. you lay again, the speakers not too loud as you close your eyes, getting comfy on the sheets.

the nice and soothing voice of all those podcast speakers sounding like lullaby to your ears. you feel your body relaxing by seconds.

a hand reaching to your thighs, caressing the naked flesh. slowly getting closer to your core until the fingers slightly crossed over your closed clit, your breath is getting stuck to your throat, "do you need help, yn?" seungcheol's voice says causing goosebumps on your skin.

"wh- what are you doing here?"

"couldn't sleep thinking about you either" he says sliding his hand under your panties "oh, you're wet already"

all you do is whine as he starts to slide his finger up and down your center. seungcheol is getting closer, his mouth setting a delicate kiss to your neck as your breath gets heavier.

"does it feel good?" he whispers on your ear when he starts to massage your clit. you're moaning, your cheeks red, not knowing how did this started at first place.

he slips a finger inside and you become a moaning mess, his name like a prey on your tongue. he kisses harder and sucks on your skin, making you clench around him. he adds another finger and you feel yourself closer to the edge.

"are you close, baby?" the nickname makes you moan his name again "then, wake up"

your clock start ringing, your eyes opening fast, startled by the sound "fuck!" you groan. you fell asleep without noticing, and it couldn't get worse than having a wet dream with him.

you hit the clock beside you, silencing its ring tone, before getting up to work, and also to clean the wet mess between your legs.

you were able to get on campus on time for your first class of the day. you completed ignore the fact that you just met seungcheol outside in a wheelchair, chatting with jeonghan and joshua when you arrived. all the nervousness gathering around your stomach, remembering the shameless dream you had. you made it short with them, running over to your class soon.

right now, you are done for the day, at your living room table, books spread all over it, a way too common scenery for you. at least today is friday and you can have a much needed rest.

you close the notebook in front of you, resting your head on the back of the sofa, closing your eyes for a bit. you're interrupted by your phone ringing, you come closer, your eyes peaking to try seeing who it is calling.

with your phone on your hands now, your eyes get big as you look to the screen lighting with cheol's name on it. if you wait too long, the call is going to end, so you rush to answer.

"hello?" you sound unsure for some reason.

"hi, y/n? are you busy right now?"

"hmmm... not really, why?"

"you sure? dont want to bother if you are"

you wanna say yes but you are nervous, you dont know what is going to be the next words.

"i finished rehab just now and the way back is around your house, so i thought about calling. do you want to meet up?"

there it is. he wants to meet up, oh lord.

"sounds good. im a bit tired, tho. do you mind coming over?"

"it'd be the best anyways. im on my way"

"okay, bye!" you hang up, a smile on your lips. then it hits you... he is coming here. right now.

you rush to stow all your material. putting some things in place too, which wasnt hard, your house its pretty neat. you also take a quick shower, already hearing the doorbell once you come out.

as you open the door, it feels like the time stopped for a second. seungcheol is in casual clothes, baggy black jeans and shirt, a hoodie hugging his upper body, the cap of it on his head as his now long hair matches his beauty perfectly. his body is steady by the crutch on his both sides. his dimples make its way on his cheeks as he smiles to you by the door.

"come in" you say and he does, living his shoes beside yours on his way inside.

"i brought some takeout" he says as you rush to take it from his hands, leaving the plastic bag at the kitchen island.

you ask him if he wants anything to drink as he sets himself at the table. you eat it out with the beer he asked you. time going by as you chat with each other comfortably.

its kind of a new situation for you two. you first met because of jeonghan, but you've never gotten this close until now. you go out together with your other friends in common and have a nice relationship, but its the first time you two do something alone.

"i wonder why jeonghan called you to go check on me that day" he says cutting your thoughts.

"was it bad?" you laugh breathy, surprised by the sudden statement.

"no, no! its just because we have our group of friends as you know, you are in it. i was just surprised you were his choice between them"

"probably because i work on the healthy system" you say, knowing people are aware of you finishing your last year of nursing school.

"oh! you're right." he exclaims, it now hitting him.

you smile, staring at how cute his pouty lips look when he is thinking. you admire his plump lips and suddenly remember the dream you had just tonight, and then his coc- FUCK! stop! you think to yourself, that's not the time.

the silence takes the room after so much conversation and you decide to clean the table, hoping it cleans your mind too. you take the empty bags to the trash and when you go back to catch the stools left, cheol is jumping his way to the couch. hanging the crutch on the side as he signs after he sits. you laugh a bit, finding cute the way he jumped his way there to get faster, but getting worried once he sighs.

"is it hurting?" you ask, taking the cups and plates to the kitchen.

"its affordable" he laughs it out "it hurts a bit sometimes but its getting less constant" you pout even tho that's a good sign. you feel bad for him.

"is there anything i can do to help?" you say coming back from the kitchen. the table all cleaned up now.

"not really, just come sit here" is all he says, a smile playing on his face. oh my god, why is your tummy getting twisted.

you make your way to him, sitting kinda shy beside him, even tho that's your own familiar house. you stare at each other, not saying anything, you play an awkward grin to him and he smiles endearing. what's happening? you think in your head.

you coff slightly, breaking the silence "do you want a bag of ice for your ankles? is it still hurting?"

you both look down his ankles, his little stitch showing from the cirurgy he had, you grimace in empathy thinking about it and how it must hurt.

"not really"

"can i take a look?" you ask looking at him now.

"why?" he says. oh god, jeonghan is so right, he is kinda stubborn.

"im a nurse, you know..." you fight back lightly.

"not yet. you said you are on your last year still" he smirks and you roll your eyes.

"oh my god, seungcheol. are you scared or something? im not gonna hurt you" you say getting up from his side to go take a look. making his eyes turn big that you cant help but laugh "you are scared, um" you contest.

"no, i am not" he say it in a defensive tone and you laugh again. what a big baby.

in order to look at his ankle, you have to knee yourself in between his legs, as you are taking your position, you realize what a big mistake you did. you glup, going down. he's looking at you, his breath getting stuck when you moved, but he tried not to show his surprise.

you take his foot on your hands, taking care not to hurt him "is this ok?" you ask not spearing a glance.

"yes"

you look closer, seeing it slightly red, you press your thumb around it until you get on a place that makes him react, so you know where it's sore.

"hm, its not inflamed, just sore, i dont think you need ice, maybe a painkiller if it doesn't go away" you do your final words and he nods. but you cant see, so you look up at him with the lack of response and you see his adam's apple going up and down "what's the problem?" you ask.

"nothing" he says more in a whisper "can you get up now, please?"

that's when you realize, you look around and at your position in between his legs, eyes on his, and now you get it. you get up in one motion "hm- i- sorry" you say.

"for what? thank you for checking" he tries to collect himself and you have no choice but do the same.

you make your way beside him again, and when you look back at him, he has one of your cushion in his lap, you try to suppress the smirk that is threatening to show but he notices it.

"what?"

"are you seriously hard right now?" you shamelessly say and he glups "all i have to do is get on my knees? that easy?"

"yn, dont do this." he says sharply.

"what am i doing?"

"y'know im trying to end a boner right now. i could fuck but wanna do it when i can make you feel good"

what did he just say right now? "what makes you think i'll let you fuck me?" you press.

you knew what you are doing, but you are surprised that he seems to want it just as much as you do.

"you can pay back later" you say slowly getting closer, placing your hand on the cushion, looking at him for some kind of permission.

he lets his arms off of it, and you take the cushion out of the way. he really has a boner, suddenly the image of his cock coming to your mind again as you breath deeply.

he takes his hand to your face making you look up at him now, taking your hair out of the way, he places his hand on your neck. you two getting closer by seconds, your nose slightly touching before he finally kisses you.

he has the softest lips you've ever kissed. it starts slow like you dont want to lose your breath, but it feels so good that it gets intense fast. you stay some minutes making out before he finishes it biting your lower lip.

"why dont you get on the position you were before?" he says looking at you as you waste no time in getting between his legs again.

he is looking down at you, his lips in between his teeth as his hips bulk forward. you slowly get your hand on his growing bulge, that makes you eager to make him feel good.

you tuck your hand under his shirt, caressing his torso, feeling it hardening at your touch. he takes the opportunity to take his shirt off of him "take yours too, leave the bra on" he demands and you do, throwing it somewhere behind you.

he stares at your breast and feels it tightening in his jeans. you place your hand back, slowly undoing his jeans. he helps you sliding it off as well as his underwear, leaving a gasp when his half hard cock gets free. you stare at the kind of familiar view, even prettier up close. you salivate gulping down, making seungcheol's member throb at your action. you smirk and massage his tighs, not getting where he needs you the most yet.

"fucking get on my cock" he groans and you get a bit surprised by his tone so you immediately do as he says "good girl" he praises and you moan, you fucking moan. never in your life you thought you could moan by just a man's words, he's not even touching you. you press your core seeking for relief.

as you are handing his dick, you collect the pre cum, spreading it out in your hand and at his member. you start pumping it until he gets fully erect.

he gets foward on his seat and you look up at him as he gives you a cheap grin while collecting your hair. you know what he's doing and you let him. once your hair is in a ponytail in his hands, he brings his other to your chin to look at him.

"open up" he demans caressing his thumb on your lip. you open it wide, sticking your tongue out, making him laugh "you know it well, hm?" he says and you nod dumbly.

he gets your hand out, the one that has been working on his cock until now, he looked at it messy with his juices and after to you "clean it"

you're not so sure if that's what he wants but you start to lick your palm, getting the first tastes of him, licking your indicator first and them finishing it with both middle fingers as you suck it dry, humming at it. he nods, approving what you did.

"now, lace your fingers together for me" you do it and he press them on your chest, not putting any pressure, just keeping in place "if it gets too much you tap my wrist, got it?" you nod "i need you to use words"

"yes" you answer.

"good. now show me how you will do it" he says and you undo your fingers, tapping at the side of his wrist "very good" he praises again and you gasp "calm down, you will get what you need now" he says as he pulls you upper on your knees "open up again for me" you do "now suck my cock, little slut" he demands and you dont excitate to put your lips around his head.

he moans, laying on the back of the sofa again "you're so obedient, arent you?" you hum as you work your tongue around it before sucking it, finishing with a pop.

he throws his head back and you finally start to fully suck him off. he presses your scalp, starting to make some pressure needing more of you to feel good. you relax on him, letting him take control, as he fucks your mouth harshly.

you're getting out breath, tears falling down your cheeks as you moan around him "fuck" he reacts, slightly throbbing on your tongue. he looks at you as your eyes roll back at his cock reaching the back of your throat.

he pushes you off of him, a line of spit connecting your lips to his head. your chest going up and down, "get up" he demands once again, freeing you from his hands.

you're up in front of him as he reaches to your shorts, starting to unbutton it "im the only one who gets to get naked, so unfair" he says, tugging your shorts down your legs as he hands your waist making you turn around with easy, you yelp in surprise "lay your back" he says and you go down, reaching for the table in front of you. before you can see it happening, he rips your thong from you.

"seungcheol!" you exclaim and he doesn't say much, looking at the wet spot you left on it "its all wet, you ruined it, it hadn't much use anyways" he defends and you scoff. again, before you can see it, he is slapping you on your left butt cheek, you yelp as your eyes close, feeling the pain turning into heat "behave" he says and you just reply with a weak "ok".

he lets his fingers go up and down your slick as you sigh at his touch "oh my god, did you get this wet just from sucking me? such a cock slut"

he brings his wet fingers to his mouth, cleaning it dry, humming at your taste "you taste so good, i could eat you out for hours if i wasnt so desesparate to fuck you" he gets his hand back to your core, drawing circles at your sensitive clit now. your hips go up, opening space for him, melting at the feeling of his fingers on you. you moan his name, almost whispering it as you throw your head back, the pleasure getting more intense as the time goes by.

he slides a finger inside and you're already clenching on his finger. he fucks you slowly, eventually adding a second finger to scratch you out. he speeds up, curling it slightly as he reaches your spot, you moan loudly. that's better than in your dreams.

"cheol... i- please" you say breathlessly, sounding dizzy because you felt like you were.

"what's that?" he askes slidding his fingers off of you as you cry out.

"fuck me, please! i- i need you" you say it getting your hips down on him, slightly touching his bare cock with your core as he groans.

"ok, needy" for the first time, he sounds not so composed.

one hand in your hips, another one in his cock, he angles it to your entrance. you start to sit on it until you bottoms up. you relax on him, both of you sighing, adjusting yourselves at the pressure.

he undo your bra so it slides down your arms before handing your waist again, keeping you in place as he starts to fuck you. your hands getting back on the table for some stability as you hear the sound of your skins meeting. his hands leaving marks on you as you moan.

suddenly, you feel his thrusts haunting as he groans, sitting back on the sofa. his head resting and he whimpers in frustration, feeling you throbbing around him, asking for more, from the lack of stimulation.

"im sorry" you say.

"dont be sorry" he reassures you.

"what's wrong?" you ask slidding it off of you, he gasps from the loss and you turn around to look at him.

firstly, he whimpers again, looking at your bare titties for the first time. you follow his line of view, noticing him staring immediately as he's hoping to suck all of it, leaving marks there is all he wants right now.

he collects himself, meeting your eyes "my ankle is hurting from that position" he says, frustrated.

you get closer, caressing his hair back "that's ok. im sorry it hurts" you pout. he's looking up but you are so close right now, that he is trying so hard not to stare at your breast again.

"sit down on me" he says.

"will it not going to hurt you still?" you ask concerned.

"i dont know, im hoping not. i've never fuck anyone while injured before" he contests and you smile at his remark "come on, sit here" he demands again, tapping his thighs to you. how can you say no?

you do as he says, sitting on his lap, taking care not to crash with your weight in it.

"relax, baby" he says again pressing you down on him so you get his point.

you sit there, and he starts to caress your thighs, going up to your sides and back, making goosebumps appear all over your body, your core gathering your juices again. you hand his neck, bringing him to a kiss. he sneakily reaches your breast, caressing his fingers at your nipple. you whimper in between the kiss, encouraging him to do the same on the other one.

his hands are everywhere and he breaks the kiss to work his lips on your neck, it feels like the foreplay all over again and you're aching for some friction. as if he reads your mind, his hands are back on your ass, spreading it open and foward, the motion making you slide on his cock as both of you gasp, "keep going" he whispers on your ear, getting back to kiss there as you start to move your hips on him, feeling the prominent vein that you've only seen before.

he keeps going down to the valley between your tits until he greases his teeth on the left nipple, you arches your back moaning, and he does the same to the other one, taking his time on it. when he's done, he stares at his work, your nipples sensitive and red from all the sucking and licking.

"go on, ride me" he says looking now back at you.

you push your body up a little as you hand his cock back to your entrance, sliding it in easily now. you dont waste time on starting to move up and down on him. you throw your head back from the pleasure, as he admires your figure, collarbones and breast moving as you do on him, his eyes meet at where your bodies are connecting and he cant help put touch your clit.

"oh fuck" you moan it out as he works his fingers on your clit. you're throbbing around him "im so close, it feels so good, cheol" you say whimpering and he grunts, encouraging you to keep going as his high is close too.

you throw yourself on him, your face getting buried on his shoulders now, your thrusts haunting with your cum approaching. he senses it, handing your waist once again, applying force to help you with it.

"fuck, im gonna cum" you announce, slightly biting his skin, that's the ending point for him as he feels his high coming.

"where can i cum?" he askes you beforehand as you desesparate repeat inside as an answer "are you sure? oh- fuck" he's holding in, but he needs to make sure.

"please, please, cum inside" you whine and thats enough for him to let it go, he's cumming before you with a intense gasp after a low moan.

you whimper feeling him filling you up, making you cum right after him. you fight to keep thrusting, just to keep a bit of the friction to ride off your highs. your thighs all messy with both of your cums and so is his lap.

you stop once you're done and cant take it no more, you slide off of him, throwing yourself beside seungcheol on the sofa. eyes closed, your heads resting at the headboard, both of you panting out of breath still.

"im on the pill" you suddenly deliver those words, realizing you didn't say it before.

"fuck, i swear when im all good im gonna fuck you senseless" he spits it out, his mind wherelse. your sore pussy clench, even tho you've just got fucked by him, i guess you too are not satisfied yet. you can't wait for him to get all healed.

#yn #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt ff #svt scenarios #seungcheol #scoups #scoups smut #scoups scenarios #scoups seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seungcheol smut #seungcheol seventeen #seungcheol ff #scoups fanfic #scoups imagines

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ganondoodle · 6 months

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so, inspired by the warm welcome the captain received with that rough doodle i posted, i made an updated design for Ki'ita as well (basic and with clothes)

i removed the piercings she had bc considering that they spend the majority of their time in arctic waters i think having metal directly in your skin is a bad idea, no matter how thick your blubber is; i also gave her typical white markings a green hue bc ... i liked how it looked and makes them stand out a little more

(i will not repeat what i wrote on the post about the captain but wanted to add a bit of more info about Ki'ita herself)

(i dont have ALL of their backstory done yet but) the captain and Ki'ita worked together in another organization, one in which the father of the captains child also worked at, before being betrayed and barely managing to escape, after which the both of them founded their pirate crew (possible name is the Solar Pirates bc of their solar powered boat stuff); since the captain had her daughter shortly afterwards Ki'ita managed most of the organisational matters at first, including the construction of their base on an abandoned island they had initially fled to

over the years they invented the solar powered ships that allowed them to gain control over a large part of an important trade route, leaving normal ships (mostly) alone but attacking those of hunters and similar, rescuing demons and mutants, even some humans from them, most of which also join the crew and it quickly lead to them becoming their own little community

Ki'ita does not like to spend alot of time among large groups of people, no matter how much she cares about them, and her originally being from norther lands gave her the idea to explore, and if viable, do underground missions in those norther areas to disrupt the infrastructure the hunters had built in recent years and overall keep the crew informed about things that may otherwise stay hidden; with each of their travels her time absent from the base increased but the patience of the captain is wearing thin so its likely a serious talk is underway on Ki'itas third solo mission she nearly died due to entanglement in abandoned nets made by hunters from an unknown material that she could not break, the massive scars on her tail especially come from that, only surviving bc the date they were supposed to return to the crew had passed and the captain grew to worried about her and made the entire crew rush into an emergency search, including the captain herself and her toddler, who were not suited for the cold climate just like the rest of crew, taking a huge risk that Ki'ita still feels ashamed of for causing; they stayed within the base for a whole year afterwards, not just to recover but also as a silent apology, taking time preparing herself to ensure theyd not get into a situation like that again

(before departing on their next mission the captain gifted her a sword with the blade made from the material of the net, a wooden handle, bc of the cold, and a blue wrap around it reminiscent of the captains striking blue teeth; a reminder of what had happened, a means to defend herself when their strength and teeth are not enough, and also a promise to always return again)

the oldest members of the crew know Ki'ita well and treat her like an old friend, among the newer members she has more of a .. cryptic status, the mysteriously absent vice-captain who only appears every few months or so out of thin air, throws a big party, sleeps for a few days and then vanishes again, the only hint to when they will return soon again being the captain getting noticably grumpier

(OC art, Ki'ita, she/they)

#ganondoodles #art #oc #original art #artists on tumblr #original character #character design #monster #man why do i keep writing such long texts #its not even that much i wrote here!!#sorry for the long post #idk if its good to write more about my ocs maybe i shouldnt? might make the post less rebloggable with so much text on it idk #right now im thinking about them actually having a kid together later on but i havent decided yet #their relationship is kinda out of the norm i guess #neither ever said they were in a relationship and neither does the crew know #and they are not overtly like a typical pair in love kinda thing #its hard to explain #they do love each other but its like super private while also not??#like they never say publicly that they love each other nor kiss #but when youd hear the news that the captains having another child and its from kiita youd be like yup that makes sense #(also her nickname is Kiki but only the captain knows that)#ANYWAY #sorry for this sudden disconnected oc spam #i love these lads #and im so happy i got their design down more coherently #i spent over and hour writing all this argh i wanted to get more sleep for once damn it #just now noticed i fked up kiitas arm there #man #dont draw when you are tired and need to sleep kids

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eternalwritess · 3 months

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I may know someone - Platonic!Alastor & tech demon!reader + Vox x tech demon!reader

Summary: Vox is holding a grudge against the hotel and refuses to air the commercial that they created. But Alastor has someone in mind who might just be able to help...

"I always knew Vox was petty," Alastor hummed picking at his nails. He wasn't pleased to say the least. Not about the commercial of course, if it was possible for him to care less about it then he would. But rather with Vaggie at his door demanding that he do something about it, along with Charlie's pleading eyes trying to calm Vaggie so she could try and convince Alastor.

Quite honestly he didn't know what they thought he could do. He was injured for crying out loud. His wound from Adam still hurt like a truck and not to mention that he and Vaggie made a deal so he wouldn't have to deal with the picture box anymore.

"Please Al, I won't ask anything else of you!" Charlie begged bouncing on the tips of her feet whilst still attempting to hold Vaggie back, although with their wings it was getting harder as she would flap them out constantly.

"You shouldn't lie dear, isn't that an unholy quality?" He asked with some hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Alastor just try and fix it alright, we built this whole hotel and-" Alastor cut Vaggie off with an influx of static.

"Didn't we make a deal about this my dear?"

Vaggie paused for a moment before sighing and walking away leaving Charlie.

"Please, Alastor," She paused for a moment looking at him. "We really need this right now alright? Besides just think about it, more sinners means more entertainment for you if thats what you want," She said slowly walking over into him room before stopping once he glanced at her.

"Besides just think of all the fun you would have watching me uh," She paused thinking for a moment. "Struggle to rehabilitate sinners!" She added throwing up her arms in the air as a punctuation to her sentence.

Alastor sighed and met her eyes. "I really can't do anything dear, I only control the radio and besides, I doubt that rabble box will even listen to me. I don't know how to work this," he made a wild gesture with his hand. "Frivolous new technology works,"

His smile grew tight with disgust. "Its not worth the trouble anyways," he huffed and looked over to the side.

Charlie sighed and glanced away. "Fine, thats reasonable I guess," She groaned and smoothed down her wrinkled hair and began walking out the door.

"I wonder if dad would help me with this," she muttered as she walked along. Now that was something Alastor just couldn't have. He grit his teeth and tapped his staff onto the ground disappearing into shadow and reappearing in front of Charlie.

"Now now dear I didn't say I wouldn't help you-"

"You basically did though-"

Alastor put his finger in front of her mouth shushing her. "It is rude to interrupt don't you know?" He took his hand back and set it on his staff.

"I do know someone who might be able to help in our little endeavor. Rosie adores her quite so and I think that she might just be interested in this. Besides she is an old friend of mine," He explained bending down and smiling even wider.

It's been a while since he's seen you. He'd like to visit you after all and this would stick it to Lucifer and Vox. He's winning on all three sides of the coin.

"Well then! Can I meet her?"

"Patience Charlotte, come, come now. The place where she lives is quite dangerous indeed. It would be a shame for you to be harmed there,"

He hummed and walked her out the hotel. "You'll need to stay by me at all times. Do you understand?"

She nodded and Alastor nodded with her. "Good girl,"

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙

You spun around in your chair. This was the fifth time today. If anyone else came into your office proclaiming they they needed your help you were gonna flip.

You weren't an overlord. But damn did you manage this side of the pentagram. A space so fucked that not even the strongest overlord would set their sights here. Too much work for not enough profit you would say. Honestly? You would agree if you weren't somewhat attached to this rancid place.

Knock knock.

You gripped your desk and groaned mentally, bracing yourself for whoever was at the door next.

"I swear to god Susan call me again for your fucking cat and I will shove it's claws up your-" You opened the door with a shout and stopped upon seeing a familiar red color scheme.

"Alastor- holy shit!" You laughed and stepped back. "Sorry for the shouting, its been a..." You trailed off and sighed shaking your head. "Rather stressful day," You snapped your fingers electricity from them instantly snapping on the lights to emit a warm glow from them.

Behind him was someone with blonde hair and red eyes and a red suit. God was there a lot of red going on here. "Who's this?" you asked gesturing over to her. "Looks nice, didn't know she was your type," You laughed before shaking your head not allowing Alastor to react.

"I'm kidding, I know you've got an ace up there," you laughed tugging at his sleeve before letting it go.

Alastor paused for a moment. "What?"

You moved on giggling. "Come on introduce her, Rosie would have your head for behavior like this," you laughed and grabbed the girl's hand.

"This is Charlotte Morningstar! Princess of hell and owner of the delusional establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel!" He said patting 'Charlotte's' head.

"You can call me Charlie," She quickly corrected. You nodded and bent down bowing down to her and raising her hand slightly above your head.

"Pleasure to meet you your highness, what can I do for you today. After all I doubt you come here on pleasantries," you gestured outside to where a few demons were about to have either an orgy or a torture scene. You pulled them in further shutting the door and closing the windows.

"Well you see I've been having a bit of trouble lately. Well see this man, Vox, refuses to air the commercial I made for my hotel. So I was wondering if you could possibly do something about it," She offered. She smiled warmly and you looked over to Alastor.

"Vox isn't really..." You sighed and rubbed your forehead. "Do you want me to talk with him? Cause I don't know him besides that fact that his tech is nothing more than flashy shit," you explained.

"No, no, no, no, well I mean... I just want my commercial aired, I can pay you if you'd like," She offered.

You paused and shook your head glancing over to Alastor. "What do you think that I can do?" you asked tilting your head over to him. Of course he would bring her to you, what else were you expecting.

"Well you can infiltrate Vox and his filthy lair! Get the commercial up and running!" He said with a swing of his arm.

You groaned and sat down in your chair. "Really? And how do you suppose I'm even gonna get close enough to do such a thing?"

"Why my dear you'll only have to do a flick of a wrist, I doubt that Vox knows he's not the only one with powers like yours," he said and gestured over to you grandly, as if introducing you all over again.

With a sigh you looked over to Charlie. Money didn't really mean shit here, besides you knew better than to say no to Alastor. Friends be damned, if he wanted something you had to give it to him unless you had a good reason which, you really didn't. Other than you just didn't want to of course.

"Alright then, I don't need to get paid though, just puts a target on my back-"

"Alrighty then!" Alastor was cut off by you.

"But, you're getting me over there. Got it smiles?" You asked looking over to him. His grin grew tight and you felt your grow at that.

"Of course, it would be unkindly of me if not,"

Charlie squealed and grabbed your hand pulling you up and giving you a hug. "Thank you! Thank you ! Thank you! Thank you so much! I will not forget this, I swear!" She was bouncing up and down as you laughed and slowly pushed her away.

"Alright, don't get too happy about it. I still don't know if I can do it,"

"Don't worry, if any demon in this wretched realm can do it its you," Alastor said giving you a half pat on the head before you swiped his hand away.

"Alright then, so when do you want me to do this?" You asked.

"Oh take your time-"

"Now would be preferred. Here I'll even lead you," Alastor said grabbing you and pulling you in by the hook of your arm. You stumbled over and glared at him playfully a grin forming across your lips as you gaining your footing.

"What about the princess?" You pointed over to Charlie who was bouncing on her feet excitedly.

"Oh we can stop by the hotel on our way over, don't worry y/n,"

You laughed and looked over to Charlie. "Oh my god, I didn't tell you my name!" You laughed and stuck your hand out once more. "Y/n,"

She shook your hand and smiled. "Don't worry about it, besides I'm sure Al would've told me it,"

You nodded and turned over to Alastor. "Alright then, lead the way,"

To call the hotel a giant eyesore might be an understatement. It was clear that Alastor didn't design the thing whether that be for good or for worse. It's lights basically dissected your eyes into thousands of tiny little pieces.

God was it bright.

"So the V's are what they're called then?" You asked brushing off tiny specks of dust on your shoulder. You just had a conversation with someone named Angel and god did it feel wrong.

"Yes! They're quite incompetent though, nothing you need to worry about," He said patting your head once more. You groaned mentally at the gesture and watched as he spun his microphone around.

"Really? Aren't they overlords?" You questioned further adn watched how Alastor's grin grew tight at the mention.

"Yes but they're awfully pathetic and act like children. Throwing temper tantrums here and there," he paused for a moment before shutting his eyes and flitting them to you. "Actually you'd be more of a competent overlord than them-"

You held up a hand. "No, no, we've been over this. I'm not an overlord. I don't have nearly enough power-"

"I could help with that," He smiled and you watched the green and red glow light up from behind him.

"Uh huh, so you could put me on a leash? Yeah, no thanks," You rolled your eyes at the offer and watched as he laughed it off with you.

"No no, just as a friendly gesture. Of course a favor wouldn't be too bad I suppose,"

You laughed once more. "A favor? from me? I'm sorry but being gone for seven damn years must've screwed with your head. I can't do anything,"

You both stopped in front of a large building. At least in the alleyway of a shop in front of it. You noticed how Alastor avoided the cameras, he must've done this thousands of times.

"Aren't you doing this?" Alastor gestures over to the building.

Three V's hung at the very top of a very colorful building and- you take it back this is worse than the hotel. You winced at the colors and looked over to Alastor. "I might change my mind,"

You watched as he laughed for a short amount of time before returning to you. "Well then we better hurry up I suppose my dear," He snapped his fingers and you watched the cameras glitch for a second. "We'll only have a moment now," He said and he walked out with you and into a backroom of the building and- god the inside might just be worse.

Thousands of LEDs strung up around the hall with tons of flashing lights. Stuff to draw one's attention. You just wanted to get out. You followed Alastor around before he stopped. "You know the way from here?" He asked.

You paused and looked at him. "Please tell me you didn't-"

"I haven't been here before. I've never had a reason to before now," He said and tapped his staff onto the ground leaning on it for support. His ears bent slightly back in frustration.

You glanced at the cameras and sighed for a moment before looking back at him. "A minute please," you hummed and flicked a small bit of electricity over before tapping a device on your wrist generating a hologram. You watched as it flickered between the different places before stopping on one.

"Got it, we need to be in the room though and uh," You pointed to the hologram showing someone in the room. Alastor squinted and sighed.

"He was always obsessed," he groaned and looked over to you. "Get over there I'll lead him out and- don't get caught. Got it?" His gaze hardly even looked at you but you nodded anyways.

"Sir yes sir," You laughed and ran over towards where it would be. Having access to the cameras made it easier now you'd have to admit. You watched as people passed by and when you rarely messed up you knew where to go next. Then you reached the room. A room full of tv's and god- this was creepier in person.

You walked over looking down at the ledge of which the room seemed to drop forever. Yikes, you wouldn't wanna fall down there. You looked at the cameras seeing the guy from before shout at Alastor who was breaking a ton of stuff with a look on his face that said he was having way too much fun with this.

You looked over at the tv's and smiled flicking of bit of the electricity into the tv's and watching as it squirmed through. That should do it. You watched as it slowly ran through the computers and it flicked through everything. The channels, commercials, and god you're not looking at that one, until you found it. The commercial. With a grin you clicked approve and watched as it slowly became permanent with the humming from the computers agreeing with your own.

"That should do it," you muttered and looked back at the cameras and-

shit.

He's almost here.

You hissed to yourself cursing that you weren't more careful. Goddammit, you need an out, and now. You looked around the room and facepalmed mentally. This was horrible. The only thing you could hope to do it wait by the door and hope that he didn't see you.

You ran over and slid by the door covering your mouth. This was gonna suck. You balled your fists ready to get into a fight, you knew how to fight, you lived in the worst part of the fucking pentagram. You knew all the moves, you knew how to fight dirty. You raced through your head trying to gather your thoughts but none came. Your knees became weak. This was a real overlord. Alastor was a real overlord, shit what were you thinking.

You could hear the footsteps get closer and closer. Each step felt like hell to bare.

You can't remember how to fight, you readjust your hands trying to remember how to not break your thumb. The door handle turns and you almost lose it. You almost bolt down into the abyss. Hell it might be a better death than fucking with some flashy guy's tech.

Crash

"Dammit Alastor!" You hear the reverberate of a tv penetrate your ear. God it hurts, the footsteps retreat and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You let your hand fall to your side not letting yourself gain the time to process what just happened. Once the noise was gone you checked the cameras.

Nothing.

You opened the door and bolted it checking the cameras constantly until you were out of the wretched building. You panted heavily catching your breath as you leaned into the alleyway you and Alastor were at before. There was a fight, you could hear it. The shouting, the screaming. God were you glad you had Alastor. You covered your mouth and watched as everything slowly died down and a shadow slithered up to you.

You moved your feet back and watched as Alastor reformed in front of you. "Sorry for that one darling, I hope he didn't get too close," he said and pulled you in for a half side hug before letting you go.

"No, not... not at all," you muttered and watched as Alastor paused for a moment.

"Well he didn't see you did he?"

You looked up and paled at the thought. "Hell no! I... I hope not," you admitted slowly. "There's- there's no way," you said firmly once more and looked at Alastor who nodded.

"Understood, come along then we have work to do,"

Vox slammed the door into the control room. His suit was tattered and who the fuck did Alastor think he was was starting trouble on his territory. He groaned and watched as his tech lit up with almost a new color. He paused for a moment and walked forward watching as it glowed brighter than anything he's ever seen before dulling and disappearing into the darkness.

Weird.

He touched his keyboard and felt the energy spark him and it hurt. It. Hurt. He made a small face before touching it again and it hummed in response before finally fading out. Electricity wasn't supposed to hurt him. So what the hell was that? He paused and watched as it returned to its normal state and sighed before seeing something playing on the screen.

The commercial. The fucking Hazbin Hotel bullshit was playing on his screens. He slammed his hand down and began trying to fix it only to find it kicking him out. What the hell? He tried again only to be met with the same fate not only that but a message appearing on the screen.

You cannot access this. Please try something else.

He shouted in frustration. "What the fuck is happening!?" He swiped over the screens and found something.

Footage.

Footage of what the hell happened.

Next? --->

if you would like to be notified just comment so :)

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #but not really lol #alastor hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel #the reader is kinda an overlord but not a well known one #uhhh yeah #part 2 coming soon #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Text

handyman II l.williamson x reader

just a cute little ficlet based on this request here. handyman II l.williamson

"-love do you have to stop at every single display room?" leah sighed with a tired smile as you collapsed on yet another sofa you had no intention of buying. "lee it's all a part of the experience! come, sit with me." you patted the brown leather with a beaming grin that leah just couldn't say no to as she wandered over and sat beside you.

"now. imagine this is our home-" you started, gesturing to the made up room around you as leah hummed, watching you with a fond smile. "-that's my desk. i put it by the window so that when i work from home i can see outside and people watch." you started, gesturing for leah to continue.

"okay uhh, that's all our photo albums on the bookshelf there. we spent a weekend together making them, they have all of our trips together, special times in our life, dates, our wedding, our kids first moments and experiences." leah smiled softly as you gave her a look of surprise, the blonde not having mentioned children before with you, let alone so casually.

"we mounted the tv to the wall because the kids kept kicking a ball in the house and knocking it over, because someone lets them do it when im not home to tell them off." you teased, leahs happy grin in return making your heart warm at the thought of one day starting a family with her.

"babe this is really fun and all but if we don't shift it the paint warehouse will close and it's not open again until Tuesday." leah checked the time, patting your knee and standing, pulling you with her.

she kept a close eye on you as the two of you made your way through the rest of ikea, grabbing what you needed as leah subtly removed the random things you threw in that she knew you didn't, holding your hand and gently tugging you away as you continued to try and stop at every single room.

"no i think it's that one." you disagreed with your blonde lover who sighed, her patience wearing thin as she paused to calm herself. "it's that one baby, look at the label and the numbers-" she showed you the tag on her phone.

"no because thats a nine, and thats a six!" you argued with her, leah pinching the bridge of her nose. "fine! we'll get the one you want and when it's wrong you can return it on monday while i'm at training." leah decided, her thin veil of tolerance breaking.

you wanted to tell her off for the snide comment, but found yourself far too distracted by her muscles as she grabbed the last flat pack you needed and slid it onto the trolley, opting to roll her sleeves up to her shoulders earlier in the day.

leah impatiently turned around to tell you to hurry up as she wheeled off the trolley and noticed you weren't by her side, but seeing the way your eyes had lightly glazed over and were fixated on her arms a small smirk made its way to her face.

"when you're done drooling over me baby girl i think there's a mop a few aisles back to clean it up." leah teased, snapping you out of it as you hurried to catch up with her, punching her lightly as she stole a kiss, bad mood melted away.

that didn't last very long though.

"babe oh my god just read the instructions!" you groaned, dragging your hand down your face as your girlfriend shook her head stubbornly. "i don't need them, i'm telling you its missing a piece!" leah crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at the half built coffee table.

"you're so fucking stubborn leah honestly." you grumbled to yourself, snatching the instructions off the floor where she'd tossed them aside, the comment not lost on your girlfriends ears who scowled at you over her shoulder.

"my god leah." you inhaled sharply, squeezing your eyes shut after they'd scanned the paper in your hands. "what?" she huffed, scowl still built into her features. "you've put the fucking top on the wrong way and the base is backwards." you held out the instructions toward her.

"what!" leah scoffed in disbelief, snatching them off of you, face paling as she realised you were correct. "just fix it. i'm going to start putting everything else away in the kitchen." you rolled your eyes, storming out of the room.

leah gave you your space for a few hours, focusing all of her energy into building as much furniture she could, now making sure to actually use the instructions.

the two of you had been bickering relentlessly all weekend over the tiniest of things and though you both knew none of the small tiffs meant anything, those few hours without them were much needed.

the two of you had just bought your very first home together.

you'd lived together for a couple of years, renting and falling even more head over heels for one another. but you'd moved in with leah and as much as she made sure to assure you the place was for both of you, it never quite felt that way.

so with leah extending her arsenal contract for a further three seasons and you running your own business, you'd sat down together and made the decision to buy a place that would be for both of you.

the day you finally got the keys leah carried you bridal style over the threshhold as you smacked her shoulder with a laugh, dropping you down as the two of you ran around the eerily empty house playing tag, giggling like giddy school children.

in typical fashion the very first night you moved in you'd had the absolute bare minimum, the moving truck with the majority of your belongings not due till the next day.

so you'd eaten pizza on the floor and slept in the living room on a cheap blow up mattress, spending the evening playing card games using the pizza boxes as a makeshift table while you watched a movie on leah's laptop.

not the most conventionally convenient first night and with the mattress all but deflating by the time you woke up it was far from the greatest nights sleep, and yet it was perfect.

"hello gorgeous. shall we call it a day?" leah murmured gently, hugging you from behind and softly kissing your neck as you busied yourself unpacking boxes in your bedroom, closing a drawer with a tired sigh and a nod.

"sorry for being cranky." you mumbled into her shoulder, turning around and hugging her properly. "sorry for being so stubborn." leah mumbled into your hair as she placed a kiss there tenderly making you smile.

"we've still not done any groceries!" you groaned in realization of the one errand you'd both neglected to remember today, so busy in your hurrying about from one place to another you realised neither of you had really eaten a proper meal all day.

"well we've got plates and glasses and cutlery now. so even a takeout can be eaten like a proper fancy meal!" leah joked, pecking your lips a few times before letting you go and pulling out her phone, collapsing on the bed.

you curled up into her side, head resting on her shoulder as the two of you browsed your options, leah claiming she didn't mind what you ordered but here she was shooting down almost all your suggestions.

"oh my god leah you choose then!" you laughed, sitting up with a shake of your head as the blonde grabbed the back of your jumper and pulled you back down into her hold. "i don't mind!" the girl assured yet again as you rolled your eyes.

"you say this and yet every single thing i've suggested you can come up with a reason not to order it. so what do you really want love?" your hands grabbed her face gently, thumbs stroking her sharp jawline with an amused smile.

"pizza." leah admitted with a sheepish grin and a pout. "we had pizza two days ago!" you smiled with a shake of your head. "i love pizza and pizza loves me." was all your girlfriend answered with a shrug before attacking your face with kisses, only pulling away to go and order your usual.

"-no a bit more to the left." you hummed, arms crossed as leahs shook, holding up the heavy photo frame which was filled with pictures of the two of you, the thing easily weighed half of her and it was huge.

"baby. with the most peace and love if you don't hurry up and decide where i'm mounting this i am going to shove it up your-" leah started and forced a smile, straining to hold it up as you again directed her to shuffle right then left, then up then down.

"wait stop right there! perfect." you smiled happily with a clap, ignoring her recent comment as leah sighed in relief, placing it carefully down against the wall on the floor as she moved to grab the hooks and nails.

"make sure its straight when you nail it in!" you chatsized, taking a seat on your lounge which had finally arrived, burying your head in your phone. "i'll nail you in a fucking minute." leah mumbled under her breath, you too busy browsing online for some prints for your guest room to hear her.

"baby its crooked." you moaned as leah finally finished, the defenders head slumping against the wall in defeat. "only joking." you grinned, kissing her cheek and smacking her bum as you sauntered past. "i could just...." leah made a strangling motion with her hands behind your back.

"i could hide a body, i've watched enough crime podcasts." the blonde continued under her breath as she packed up her tools. "are you plotting my murder again?" you smiled knowingly, tilting your head as you leaned in the door frame watching her.

"yes i am." leah rolled her eyes, snatching your drink from your hand and chugging it as your jaw dropped. "leah!" you smacked her chest as she sighed happily, handing you back the empty glass and sloppily kissing your cheek in thanks.

"i'd not say no to a sandwich either love." the captain grinned with a wink before disappearing into your bedroom to finish building the side tables she'd started earlier before you demanded her assistance with several other things.

"what am i now then? your little house wife?" you scoffed, following after her, the taller girl smiling cheekily as she swung a hammer around in her hand. "yeah. yeah you are!" leah nodded before squatting down to continue building.

"put a ring on it and maybe we'll talk titles then williamson." you teased, the older girls cheeks flushing red as you smiled and left the room. changing into an old pair of overalls you tied your hair up and grabbed a can of paint, moving into the spare room to continue where you'd left off yesterday.

you'd finished another entire wall by the time leah appeared, having finished the side tables and your tv stand after much swearing and yelling which you'd left her to, not wanting to push her any further despite how easy you knew it would be to wind the blonde up.

"sweets do you know where-" you didn't hear the rest of her sentence, too fixated on the tool belt strapped around her waist, her shorts rolled up and only in her sports bra as of course a heat wave had decided to roll in over the weekend.

"baby? did you hear me?" leah asked somewhat impatiently, tapping her foot and raising an eyebrow as you shook your head wordlessly, eyes roaming her body hungrily. "how do you not know-" leah started though she stopped when she realised what it was which was distracting you.

"now see i wouldn't have pegged you for a girl with a little handyman fantasy." leah smiled cockily, sauntering over as your arms hung limp by your sides. "that makes two of us. but you in a tool belt...baby it's doing things to me." you admitted with a nod of approval.

"would you like me to do things to you my girl?" leah breathed out with a grin, hands grabbing at your hips as her eyes flittered down to lock with yours. no more words needed the taller girl connected your lips.

unlike normal she didn't rush anything, the kiss was slow and sensual and she poured into it every ounce of affection and love she held for you, though as time passed and you seperated momentarily to catch your breath it grew messier.

your head span, feeling as though it was filled with cotton, in a drunken haze off the taste of leahs lips on yours and the way her tongue moved around in your mouth, teeth nipping teasingly at your bottom lip as she suddenly pushed you into the wall causing you to let out a small moan.

however it only took a millisecond before your brain switched back on and you shoved her away, leahs eyebrows creasing into a frown as you gasped, tensing as you felt something wet drip down the back of your neck.

leah opened her mouth to ask what happened but as you took a step forward the blonde swiftly covered her smile with her hand, biting down on her lip with a guilty look sent your way.

for behind you on the still dripping wet wall of paint was now a you sized smudge, the eggshell white now caked in your hair, neck and all down the back of you.

"we could tell people a bird took a shit on you? that's quite good luck!" leah joked, a pause passing between the two of you as your eyes narrowed and she took off, you hastily chasing after her.

you caught her in the kitchen, eyes locked as you circled one another around the island bench in the middle. "now baby really that was your fault." leah shook her head as you scoffed and lunged at her but she easily side stepped you, backing away out of the room as you advanced on her.

"come give me a hug then babe." you smiled, taking further steps toward her as leah looked around for an escape, darting past you and out the back door as you chased after her.

much faster than your girlfriend would ever give you credit for you tackled her onto the grass as she paused to try and evaluate her next steps, landing on top of her with a grin.

"you look a bit pale darling." you teased, grabbing your paintbrush you'd stashed from your back pocket, gently smacking her cheeks with it and painting her face as leah squealed but kept her mouth shut as to not invite any of the paint into it.

you rolled off of her and laid on your back, clutching at your stomach as your laughter echoed around the backyard. though now it was your turn to squeal as leah sat on top of you, wiping her face all over your overalls as you tried to push her off but she swiftly pinned your wrists to the grass.

"no leah its on your lips!" you laughed as the blonde dipped her head to kiss you. "i know!" she scowled playfully, gently kissing both your cheeks and your forehead leaving marks all over your own face.

"shower time?" leah grinned, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and letting go of your hands as you hit her on the shoulder. "only if you keep the tool belt on." you smirked now making her throw her head back in laughter.

"you know baby i think that can be arranged."

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

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starry-bi-sky · 9 months

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Part eight of Clone Danny au

"Who is this person?" Red Robin asks, and Danny huffs irritably. Gotham's cool air was seeping slowly into his clothes -- he never had a problem with it in Amity, he was always moving too much to get cold.

"Does it matter?" he signs sharply, his patience suddenly growing thin with his increasing paranoia. His mouth twisted into a scowl under his mask. "I have someone who can come pick me up, they're clearly not dangerous if they're friends with me."

Red Robin held his hands up in surrender, sighing in a way that made Danny's tired, scared brain almost see red. He whirled on Batman, "Do you have a payphone anywhere? A few cents so that I can call Spirit? Please?"

Silently, Batman reached for his utility belt, popped open one of the compartments, and pulled out a few quarters. Danny made a mental note to make himself some kind of utility belt -- a fanny pack maybe? -- he needed to be more prepared for the unexpected. Like Batman was.

He pressed the tip of his fingers to his chin and gestured outward, "Thank you." he says, and takes the quarters, clutching them tightly.

"Hn." Batman grunts, a flicks the compartment closed with a silent click. "There's a payphone nearby for you to use. I will show you it."

"Thank you," Danny signs again, slumping in relief. "I'm sorry again for being here. I didn't mean to. It's my first time fighting this guy."

Batman grunts again and steps to the side, unhooking his grappling hook from his belt. "Do you not have a mentor to show you these things?" He doesn't turn away while he asks, which is nice. The living have a habit of turning away from him while they're talking (during the rare moments he sticks around long enough to chat), forgetting that Danny speaks with his hands.

He shakes his head, reaching for his own, homemade grappling hook. There was nothing like swinging through Amity's skyscrapers after a ghost, he felt like he was flying. He had to make it himself after his first dozen run-ins with ghosts where running on foot couldn't cut it. "Mentors are a privilege, you know. I'm doing this all on my own, or did the homemade costume not give it away?"

Red Robin passes around Danny with his own grappling hook, and he heard a barely-there snort of laughter from the man. Batman 'hrms' in a vaguely disapproving note, and readies his hook. "The payphone is that way, Phantom. Are you ready?"

Under his mask, Danny grins widely. Finally, something good. Perhaps flying will alleviate some of his anxiety. He holds up his hook, and nods sharply, walking over to the edge of the roof.

He watches Batman wait a moment, aim, and then off they go.

Flying through Gotham City felt much like flying through Amity Park, with its towering skyscrapers and close-built buildings. Danny bit back the holler of joy building in his throat as the wind rushed past him, blowing back the hood of his jacket and rustling through his hair.

God, he loved flying.

He watched Batman and Red Robin as well, entranced with the fluttering of their capes as they soared. It was inspiring how the two of them cut such striking silhouettes. It was memorable -- and, hey, where was Robin?

Danny wanted to ask, but with the roaring wind and the lack of freedom in his hands, he had no way of doing so. And he wasn't quite sure if it was any of his business... Regardless of how Batman and Red Robin dug into his own.

At some point they reached a stretch of air where the gap between buildings was bigger than before, and through his adrenaline-induced joy, Danny suddenly swung himself forward with more force than before.

He swung up, up, up into the air... and released himself, launching himself high high into the air. he looked down, seeing Batman and Red Robin further away and latching onto the next building.

Danny whooped loudly, confident in the wind to catch his yell before it caught the ears of the vigilantes accompanying him. His momentum began to slow, and for the length of a heartbeat he was stranded in the air, skies above and ground below. He breathed in, and like a bubble popping he began to fall again.

It took only a singular twist of his body for him to right himself and chase after Batman and Red Robin, who had turned their heads to look for him. He grinned apologetically once he caught up to them, although they couldn't see it.

It took only a few regretful minutes later to reach the payphone that Batman was referring to, and Danny mourned the loss of the sky to himself as his feet touched the ground alongside the two gothamites. "Thank you for the escort, gentlemen." He signs once he's hooked his grappling hook back onto himself and fished out the quarters. "If you could be so kind as to stand out of hearing range, that would be most appreciated."

Batman merely grunts and Red Robin nods, neither move when Danny half jogs over to the payphone. Pulling up his mask just enough to reveal his mouth, Danny inserts the coins and jabs in Ellie's number.

He waits, breath held as the dialtone rings. Once, twice, before finally there's a click and a groggy, familiar voice: "Hr'o?"

Danny can't stop the grin of relief that stretches over his face. "Spirit." He whispers, and glances back to Batman and Red Robin. His fingers tap against the phone nervously. "I need your help."

"Dan- Phantom?" Ellie says, sounding much more awake as rustling follows in the background. "What happened? Are you hurt?" There was a protective tinge layering Ellie's voice that Danny was all too familiar with.

"No, no, I'm fine." He says, trying to sound reassuring while retaining his hush voice. "I have a new rogue; a teleport ghost. he took me to Gotham and I need you to come get me."

"To Gotham?" Ellie hisses in disbelief, "Fuck, Phantom, that's miles away from here. Yeah, I'll come get you. Don't go anywhere."

Danny huffs sardonically, fingers twirling around the phone wire nervously. "Not like there's anywhere for me to go. I'll be waiting on one of the rooftops, Spirit. I'll see you then."

"See you then, be safe."

And then the phone clicks, the line going dead. Danny sighs, heavy and tired, and it turns into a jaw-cracking yawn. He hangs the phone back up, and pulls the mask down.

A silent figure approaches from the corner of his eye; Batman. Red Robin, at some point of the conversation, had left. "Is your person coming?"

Danny pulls his hood up. "Yes. They should be here... soon. Hopefully," he signs, "Thank you for your help, Batman."

------ Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank @sara0055 @blusunkhild @letmesayfuxk (?) @latheevening226 @tkiesai @rosedasy @meira-3919 @igotafewbadideas @princessbelix @cyber-geist

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton is a clone #dp crossover #dpxdc crossover #sudden inspiration to post another part #i crave validation and comments #danny is tired but he does love flying #see next part: Ellie's arrival #if yall leave me comments it'll make me so happy <3

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unfriedough · 11 months

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Hello!! I have a request, Zuko and Y/N are married, fire lord and lady, yada yada yada and after 5 years of marriage, they have been trying to have a child. Then they give up and start to drift away from each other, and Y/N had high hopes of having a family with him that she started considering adoption, he fully supports her but then she became sick, she finds out that she’s pregnant (they still adopt a child hehe) Have a nice day!!!

‘The heir’- Zuko x female!reader

Masterlist <3

An: “how dare she have the nerve to disappear for this long?” I HAD A MAJOR BLOCK OKAY? 😢 exams are over tho which is chill

SOOOO SORRY I took this long, life gets busy but still, thank you so much for ur requests and ofc ur patience. I wrote a good chunk of this at like about 3 am so feel free to lmk if there’s mistakes.

Summary:

After years of being together, not being able to conceive was really taking a toll on your picture perfect relationship

Warnings: not being able to have a baby, children(?)

A single day blanket connecting you and your husband in the dark room, the candle light long abandoned as you both laid staring at the high ceiling. There was so much to say, and yet, neither of you found the words. And so you sat in silence.

You’d been trying to conceive for what felt like ages, and as of recently, it’s been taking a toll on your relationship. Neither of you meant for it to- but you found it was almost inevitable for you two. And so there you were, feeling foreign in your own home, words exchanged with Zuko were short due to his busy schedule, and by the time he’d come to bed, you’d be out like a light.

“You’re not usually up at this hour,” he remarked, turning his head to you. Your eyes had adjusted to the moonlight and his face was relatively clear.

“What, waiting to sneak out?” You jerked a brow, lips adorning a smile.

“Where would I even go?” The fire bender stretched, suppressing a yawn.

You shrugged, sitting up on the bed and resting your back on the headrest.

“How’re you not tired?” His eyes struggled and fought to stay open. You reached a hand and stroked his hair back from his face.

“I’m not sure, go to bed Zuko,”

“Can’t a man spend time with his wife,” he breathed out.

“Not at this hour,” you mumbled.

He smiled softly, bringing your hand back to his hair, humming as you scratched his scalp. It was in peaceful, domestic moments like this when you felt you were actually married, and actually in love. He rolled over, back facing you, body beginning to doze off into a deep slumber. You rested your head on the back board, sighing as you willed a wink of sleep to hint at your body. Your eyes trailed around the room, from the messy desk to the clean vanity, you always found yourself staring back at the window. As you became entranced with the stars, you felt goosebumps on your skin. The window was closed- so it couldn’t be that. Then again, insulation in the fire nation sucks, and the winters were harsh. You extracted your hand, carefully stepping out of bed to inspect the heaters. You tiptoed out before allowing your socked feet to walk normally across the expanse of the hallway. You breathed out a sigh, humming as you trailed one hand on the walls. You felt another shiver, and you became more frantic in your search- fire nation nightwear seemingly catered to the summer heat. By the time you reached the boiler room, you were shivering, shakily grabbing the handle to allow yourself into the confinement. You rolled your eyes, the machine was sneezing and coughing, your watchful gaze studying its movements.

“I’m not a handyman,” you scowled, nearing it to inspect more clearly.

Dust and grime built up from years of not renewing it, turns out royalty can be pretty lazy. You shuddered again, curling in on yourself. Defeatedly, you kicked the machine, which seemed to stop its sputtering entirely.

“Useless thing,” you groaned, walking out.

You were thankful for your socks at least, but maybe a pair of gloves would’ve been handy- at this rate, you would freeze to death. A sour look on your face and a slouch on your frame escorted you back to your room. When you pushed open the door, you found Zuko standing there, also about to open the door.

“Why are you awake?” You asked, still folding your arms.

“Why're you not in bed?”

“Heater’s busted, some of us aren’t natural fireplaces,” you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Give me your hands,”

“Okay,”

When your hands collided, you felt instant relief as the walking boiler used his powers to microwave your hands.

“Thanks,” you breathed out, and he smiled softly.

He led you back to the bed, before searching through the closet for spare blankets - none of which were present right now. Due to them recently being used by guests, they were in the wash, so you were stuck with the light fire nation palace covers.

“Sorry,” he scrunched his face in worry, joining you in bed.

You just sighed, trying to cuddle up into the blanket. Seemingly out of nowhere, he pulled you against his chest, ‘spooning’ you. You groaned at the sudden warmth, pushing your body further into his.

“You’re freezing,” he remarked.

“Really? Didn’t notice.”

“Ha ha.” He rolled his eyes.

His hands moved up and down on your arm, leaving a trail of heat in their path.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Your husband mumbled- almost sounding disappointed.

“I mean- I was just inspecting,,” although you knew he was watching you, you avoided his gaze.

He sat up suddenly, resting on one arm while the other remained on your body, “You were never gonna wake me up were you?”

Silence.

“Are you mad at me?”

You looked backwards, questioning whether or not you should tell the truth. You paused, sliding your tongue along your teeth

“Your silence is enough of an answer, what’s wrong?”

“Zuko you’ve just been so distant- things aren’t the same between us and I just don’t get it,” you mumbled, turning over to face him and shoving your face into a pillow.

“Yn,”

“I’m not crazy Zuko, and I’m so over being forgotten- if you’ve got something to say, say it now.” You say up, glaring at him.

“The meeting are-“

“Oh don’t hit me with the meeting like you always do! I go to meetings too! You don’t see me ignoring everyone around me huh? Do you?”

“YN let me speak,”

“Why should I? So I can get another lame excuse? Or what? An insincere apo-“ you suddenly doubled over, covering your mouth as you gagged harshly.

Quickly, you got to your feet and landed in the restroom, throwing up what felt like all your intestines in the bowl. Zuko panicked, struggling to figure out how to help, when he settled on getting you a towel and sitting next to you.

You groaned, resting your head back on the wall, hugging your body with one arm while the other used a towel to dry your face.

“Did you eat something weird?”

“Not that I know of,”

“Can I explain myself now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yn, I’ve been getting bashed at practically every meeting by some general because I don’t have an heir yet- truth is they’ve kinda been on my back about it and I guess I’ve been taking it out on you. I’ve just been so worked up, trying to find a solution whilst keeping the peace I just forgot about how you might’ve felt. I’m really sorry Yn.”

You stared at him, mouth agape.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,”

You say in silence for a little, trying to digest this information.

“A-and if your up for it, I think we could try adoption?”

“But wouldn’t the sages be even more annoyed, I mean it’s not your blood right?”

“They don’t have a right to be mad right? They said get a kid so I’ll get a kid what more?”

“Fair enough,” you giggled.

He leaned over, kissing the top of your head, then helping you up to your feet. You stumbled back into the bedroom, drowning in the warmth he provided. Things felt like they were diffusing, and hey, maybe they’d even go back to normal.

After the morning groups and talks, you and Zuko met up with each other to visit a nearby adoption agency. Once you explained the situation, the lady was ever so helpful, providing insight on each child, what life would be like, what to expect and everything of the likes. After the contract wore your name, you and your husband were matched with a gentle, sweet and social child named Lee. The little boy was 5, with soft features that sort of resembled Zuko. The following week, you were visited by a few men and women who just checked around the conditions of your home. Then finally, the wait was over, the little boy was welcomed into your home. You and Zuko took a few days off to help the new member adapt to the conditions, and he seemed ever so excited to be adopted by the “king and queen”. You picked his room to be the one directly next to yours, the bedroom decorated and tailored to the little boy’s interests. Elated was the only word to describe how you felt as the child settled in nicely. He was a funny, charming young boy who made sure to express his appreciation daily. Never missing a “thank you” after a meal, or a hug goodnight. Even the fire nation folk were surprisingly welcoming, Zuko setting standards higher due to welcoming an orphan. The fame was of course never his intention, but the people still seemed pleased. Which now brings you to the third night in a row where you and Zuko sat somber in the bathroom- both exhausted beyond belief form the long day. However your stomach was awake and partying, and you were experiencing the effects of that.

“I think it’s time we go get that checked out,” he remarked.

“I don’t have time, with Lee and work and-“

“This is important too you know,”

“Yeah but priorities.”

“Yeah exactly so tomorrow?”

“Zuko I have things to do,”

“Okay but you said priorities, you’re a priority no?”

“Not in this scenario I’m not dying,”

“You’re throwing up,”

“Still not dying,”

“Why're you so opposed to going to the medic?”

“My life.”

“Huh?”

“It’s my life don’t tell me how to live it,”

“I’m not?”

“Yes you are.”

“YN.”

“ZUKO.”

“WHAT ARE YOU ARGUING WITH ME ABOUT JUST GO.”

“NO.”

“WHY NO?”

“BECAUSE.”

“BECAUSE WHAT?”

You lifted a finger, pointing at your head and shrugging. You could tell Zuko was getting impatient, but in your mind, not knowing what this is gave you one less thing to worry about. I mean, what if it’s something super serious? You now have a family, and more responsibilities than before- now is not at all the time. However, your husband saw differently. It wasn’t a hidden secret that Zuko was hard headed and stubborn, but this matter had virtually nothing to do with him, so if you don’t care he shouldn’t either. He slide his hand across his face, clenching his jaw.

“You’re going tomorrow.” He said sternly.

Your brows rose, a smirk on your face, “Oh? Says who?”

“Me.”

“And what gives you that authority over me?”

“I’m the fire lord,”

“That trick doesn’t work on your wife Zuko,”

“Yeah well I don’t have any others,” he fisher back a smile, losing the one scolding-type exterior.

“I just don’t want to bear another burden, I have enough on my plate as it is,”

“Yeah but what if this is a burden we have to bear? In the worst case scenario- I don’t want to be too late.”

“Can you tell me why you’re on the floor?” Startled, you both looked to see Suki at the door, a grin on her face.

“YN is-“ you smacked a hand over his mouth, his words coming out as mumbles.

“Just thought we’d change things up,” you scrunched your face.

“Yeah and that’s why it sounded like you were throwing up right?”

“I-“

“I checked the doctor is free and Lee is asleep let’s go,”

Zuko smiled brightly, feeling less alone. You however, opened your mouth to disagree when Suki pulled you out into the room, then out into the halls.

“Sukiiiiiiii,” you whined, trying to push back.

Zuko followed, ensuring you don’t escape.

“This is for your own good,”

“Leaving me alone is also for my own good!”

“You’re hilarious,” not a hint of a smile on her face.

The medic sat on the bed, her uniform dishevelled and eyes tired from this hour.

“You should go to bed,”

“Right after she checks up on you,” Your husband replied, narrowing his eyes.

“Fine.”

She sat you down on a bed, and began examining and asking questions. By the time she had gotten to the end of her checklist, you were preparing for the question. Despite being ready, you were thoroughly embarrassed, which the kyoshi warrior could only laugh at.

The lady thought for a moment.

“I have my suspicions that you could be pregnant ma’am, shall we bring in a water bender to give the results tomorrow?”

You sighed deeply, nodding.

That night was practically sleepless, Zuko held you in his arms, attempting to both provide you with warmth and ease your worry. Restless, you were fatigued when the sun finally emerged.

By noon, you, Zuko and Lee were sitting in a room, where you were on a bed and they were on some chairs. The water bender swished and swashed to try to gauge whether or not you were bearing a child. Then suddenly, everything was silent.

It was so silent, in fact, you could probably hear your own heartbeat.

“Congratulations, miss YN, you are pregnant.”

And with that, the celebrations began.

Lee was ever so joyed to have a younger sibling, going on to tell you all the fun adventures they’d have. Suki was excited to have more nieces to mess around with. Sokka, Katara and Aang travelled to congratulate you once they’d received the pigeon- as well as to welcome the little boy Lee. Toph, despite denying it, was actually happy you two got the family you dreamed of.

And of course, Zuko. You engraved the picture of his reaction into your head. He had waited for things to simmer down in the medical room before practically jumping for joy. He hugged you tightly, face glowing and eyes brimming with tears. Right after, he scooped up Lee, pecking kisses on his face, then yours, then laughing.

“You’re gonna be an older brother,” he whispered with a smile to Lee.

An: I could not think of a good title and a good ending so forgive me 🫣

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yaut-jaknowit · 5 months

Note

Can you pls make a yautja x AMAB! reader fanfic with body worship? (Specifically the readers thighs.. :›)

ALSO I LOVE ALL OF UR FANFIC S RAHHHHHHH

Worship My King

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x AMAB!Reader

Warnings: bondage, mlm, lots of dirty talking, soft sex, hand job, thigh worship,

Word Count: 2148

Summary: In confines of Uihoy's ship, the Yautja is on his knees to worship you. He's got you restrained, at his whim. You are his to play with, to love on.

Author Note: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying them. That's what I'm here to do!

P.s. I'm working hard at requests. I had to close my ask box as well because I hit about 15 requests. Sorry but it was necessary.

Masterlist

Ao3

Worn hands knead the flesh that made up your thighs. Bump followed in their stead. Your legs shook, trembling with effort to stay open. As much as you desperately wanted to snap them close and trap those gorgeous, purple hands between them; Uihoy wanted you to keep them open. Be good for him. A good boy.

The heat stopped just shy of the apex of your thighs. A keen built up in the back of your throat. You struggled against the intricately ropes wounded around your arms, all the way to your shoulder. They completely retained you, leaving you at the mercy of whatever Uihoy willingly gave to you for his pleasure.

From his spot between your shaking thighs, Uihoy rose on his knees, hands leaving your body to rest on either side of your head. The large male had you trapped at his will on his ship, in his bed. Uihoy leaned down, covering you with his shadow as he deliberately moved his mouth next to your ear. His warm breath tickled your delicate skin. You shivered.

“Good boy, keeping legs open for Uihoy,” he rumbled into your eardrum. The brass voice caused your forgotten cock to twitch on you abdomen. Left untouched once he removed all clothing from your form and tied you up.

A hot, blazing tongue grazed along your jawline and slid away once at your chin. Your hands clenched at the fur blankets laid beneath your jittering body. The unreleased energy sizzle behind flushed skin. Uihoy placed a hand around your neck and squeezed just a minute fraction of his strength. The way you cried out, shaft jumping up was a sight to consume.

Pre-cum leaked out, leaving behind a white trail on your skin. Uihoy’s eyes locked onto yours before maneuvering himself, slowly crawling backwards till his head was hovering above your belly button. You watched with rapture as the male lowered himself, gaze locked onto you. Time slowed. His tongue slithered out and lapped at the pre-cum, muscle curling to bring it into his mouth.

The sight had you fighting the restraints harder than before. Anything to make him take more, do more to you. But he’s hunter that’s perfected the patience needed to survive in this universe.

His hand tightened significantly and pinned you to the bed. “Still, little one,” he demanded, sight still focused solely on your face. Trapped, your chest heaved with shuttering breaths. Yet, you didn’t listen.

With a short groan, the purple male crawled back up your body and crowded you to the bed. His face invaded yours, pink muscle flickering out to taste your skin. He settled some of his weight mindfully on top of you but careful to keep your weeping cock untouched. “Said to still, Treasure,” he hissed out with a little more force than before.

Your wide eyes peered into his. “Please,” you begged airily, pleading for something more than fleeting touches he offered. Uihoy chuckled with his brassy voice and rested his forehead on yours.

The grasp on your throat fell away for it to only drift down to your nipples. The added stimulation had you biting at your bottom lip to stop a pathetic from tumbling its way out. “What’s wrong, Treasure?” he taunted with honeyed tone. Both of your thighs locked at his sides. An attempt to pin him to you. Anything to gain friction to your abandoned shaft that red and angry. A prominent vein popping out.

All he had to do was rise to his knees, place a hand on your own, and spilt your legs. The strength he used was nothing compared to what you’ve seen him exert. Like it was nothing to him.

“Pauk, look at little one.” His hand hovered mere millimeters above your cock to the point you could feel his heat washing off of him. “Look in need for Uihoy. Poor little thing.” It hurt so bad in a good way when he brushed his coarse thumb along the underside of your weeping member.

And the pitiful cry he received was music to his ears. Your cock was abandoned all over again. His hands returned to your chest and left goosebumps in their wake once more. Underneath him, you kept squirming for any attempt for his hands to return south at where you needed him the most. But the hardened warrior focused solely on your torso.

Sharp and lethal talons ran across fragile skin. One wrong move could slice the flesh wide open. Your muscles bulged at the feeble attempt to break free from the strong bonds. The amount of pressure you put on them caused pain to buzz in the back of your head. That was the last thing you could care about though.

A massive grin was pinned to Uihoy’s face at the sight of your struggling. Your legs trembled as they were lifted to curl in on yourself. One of your thighs trapped your cock which in turn gave friction. Your eyes rolled up at the new, relieving sensation. You didn’t stop, hips rutting weirdly, barely enough, but a way to gain any friction.

All of that was stopped when a pair of massive, strong hands each of your thighs from the middle and spilt them open. They were swiftly pinned to the bed under the weight of Uihoy. Said male cocked his head with an honey, concerned look. “It seems there was a lapse of judgment. These handsome thighs… need more attention.”

Uihoy curved his spine and began to lay a line at the start just below your knee of kisses. From there, he slowly created his own path to the apex of your thighs. A bundle of hope bloomed in your chest until the mandible kisses resumed on the other side. You could sob at the lack of anything more than teasing from your mate. He wasn’t giving you anything more than fleeting touches and whispered promises. You groaned in frustration and jutted your hips up in protest. But the stern hand holding down your thighs prevented the riot.

The Yautja tilted his massive head just enough to peak at you from underneath his brows. “Does little hunter know what do to Uihoy?” he purred then shifted forward enough to grind the bulge in his pants against your thigh. A light bulb appeared over his purple head. “Pauk… theses thighs would look so good wrapped around Uihoy’s cock.” He ran his claws down the inside of your thighs. “Isn’t that right, little hunter?” And you keened in response. Anything to get him to touch you. Properly.

“Yeah, of course, little one would. Desperate for anything, even if Uihoy shoved cock down that tight throat… but that’s not what Uihoy wants. No,” he trailed off softly and focused back on your thighs.

Once he scooted back enough to bend over, your mate laid kiss after on your bare skin. It took you a moment to think through the clouds but come to realize, he’s loving on every mark on your thighs. Even ones you’ve gained before knowing they existed.

Your chin was buried into your chest while you watched with rapture. Uihoy went over each scar or stretch mark that marred your flesh with care that lover would give. And fuck, if that didn’t make you ready to burst, then you didn’t know what.

His hands drifted back up on the underside of your thighs before stopping at the swell of your cheeks. In the cloudy fog clogging rational thinking, you didn’t pay attention to what they were doing.

A pink tongue slithered out and followed the curve of a particularly long scar on the inside of your legs. The memory of how badly that had hurt flashed to life but was swiftly shooed away at the gentle love Uihoy provided.

“Love,” you sputtered, muscles straining to fight him. “I, I need you.” It wasn’t hard to admit that but a new wave of heat burned your face.

Sweat prickled at your forehead the longer this went on without relief. Uihoy loved, licked, kissed at what flesh that made up your thighs. The male took his wonderful time.

Every time you attempted to push against him for something more, he only had to slightly flex his arms and release a minute snarl. One he sounded off when his fingers ghost next where your balls rested and you jutted up for more. “Fucking hell Uihoy!” you snapped finally and fought like your life depended against the ropes.

They creaked and groan. But despite giving it your all, they refused to fray.

Hot, fresh tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes. Uihoy felt his painful unsheathed shaft twitch, dampening the inside of his pants at the gorgeous sight. You whimpered, face pulled down into a frown with frustration flickering like flames in your eyes.

Uihoy snorted and leaned up to rest on his knees, eyes drinking in the sweat that coated your skin. “What does little hunter want?” he teased, head cocked to the side like a confused puppy. The grin that painted his face widely mocked you. A look you desperately wanted to smack off before jumping the male and riding him to kingdom come.

Between clenched teeth, you bite, “you know what I want.” Harsh, violent words he’ll forgive you for. If he was in your position, he would be acting the same. Specially, if his cock looked as painful as yours did.

He tsked and shook his head. “Do better. Little hunter knows words are what it takes.” You tell him what you want, he’ll do it. Beck and call. You had two mighty hunters wrapped around you nimble fingers.

The lump in your throat was forced down and you turned your face away from him. The moment you did though, purple flashed across your vision. A firm grasp latched onto you chin and forced you to look back at Uihoy. “Don’t look away from Uihoy. Tell what it is little one wants. What little one needs.” You keened, biting nearly harshly at your bottom lip before giving.

“Touch me, please.” He raised a brow. The hand on your thigh began to caress the supple skin there. You growled in frustration. “No! My cock. Touch my fucking cock!” you practically screamed at him. The male’s grin turned evil.

“Wish is Uihoy’s command.”

A wrapped firmly around your painfully hard shaft. Just the touch of it sent ecstasy up the length of your spine while settling in the pit of your belly. It hurt in the most pleasurable ways.

The soft lights that luminated the ship were covered, your body blanketed by a shadow. Uihoy’s heat drifting down onto you. “This is what is needed, isn’t it?” his voice whispered directly into your ear. But you couldn’t hear him from the rushing blood nor focus on a single word from the pleasure.

“Need mate to tied little hunter up and play until begging, begging for Uihoy. Take whatever Uihoy wants, little hunter will allow.” You choked on the air sole in your lungs as the grasp began to move. Your eyes spun backwards, back arching off of the bed completely. Your balls drawing up.

White blinded your vision, not a sound registered in your brain. The pain that exploded throughout every nerve in your body was unexplainable, but you wouldn’t stop it. Your cock sputtered, spasmed with each new shot of cum, a nearly never-ending stream that painted your stomach and Uihoy’s hand white. Each rope nearly hurt from how good the release of pent-up pressure was.

Then, you collapsed onto the bed, drained, soul sucked dry. Your eyes closed, chest heaving with lung gasping breaths. Every cell part of your body vibrated with energy but slowly faded while you drifted back down.

Hands pet up and down the length of your thighs. “So good for Uihoy,” the Yautja’s brass voice rumbled in the air. The hair along your arms and legs prickled with dying electricity. Your body gave one last twitch before settling into the furs both of your mates have hunted for you.

Uihoy purred softly for you. A fur blanket was used to wipe the spent cum off of your stomach. It was promptly discarded to the side. He crawled up and rested next to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. The vibrations he sent off rolled over your skin. “How was that?”

With your eyes still shut, you hummed in content with a smile twitching your lips. “Yeah? Good boy,” he whispered and licked up a lone stripe of sweat.

One of his hands palmed at the flesh of your thighs again. “Never get used to these. Gotta let Uihoy markup… or tie?” he groaned at the new idea and nipped at you. In the afterglow, you began to drift off, protected by one of your lovers.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #alien vs predator #yautja x you #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #smut #predator smut #yautja smut #alien smut #very smutty #gay smut

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asumofwords · 9 months

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Thank you all for being so patient for the next chapter, I have had a lot of life things going on in the background and I am utterly exhausted! BUT in saying that, I have written to the VERY END of Smoke, Fire and Ash, and oh boy.... I cannot wait for you all to read it. So updates should be particularly frequent now! Can't thank you enough for all the support and love you have shown me and this fic <3 I don't know what I'm going to do when its done, probably cry in a corner for a while LMAO... Anyway! Enjoy!!!

Chapter 94: Sway

It was difficult to explain the place where you and Aemond were together.

The space that you had both meticulously crafted to house the two of you despite all circumstances. The space that was built on rocky foundations, cracks in the walls hastily filled to preserve the structure, and yet despite this, the two of you continued to place more and more stones upon it. But the beams were bowing under the pressure and weight of the stones you continued to pile on top.

And as you sat in the Library together, the dust of the weeks past settling around the both of you, the pair of you were embarked on a new journey together.

Do you continue to build upon the foundations you already had? With the crumbling being inevitable and looming over the two of you?

Do you start again? Work your way back up to the top, no doubt taking time and patience, which it seemed neither of you had? Ignoring the crumbling structure left behind which shadow would forever more be cast across the new one?

Or do you reinforce the foundation you already had with bricks, and mud, and anything that would stick?

Aemond sat on the chaise opposite you, nose buried in a large tome that he flicked the pages of every so often. One hand on his knee, rubbing a thumb and forefinger together in thought, a nervous habit that he seemed to inherit from his mother, bar the picking of skin.

There was no denying that he had changed.

The man who you saw for the first time in years, before Viserys had passed, was not the man who sat in front of you currently.

The man you saw at Storms End, the man on the night of your wedding, the man the day you were taken to the throne room, was not who sat before you.

Since your confessions, since your anger, and fear and sorrow had bled out of you in a stream of words that you could not stop, Aemond had changed.

He had become more doting towards you, spending most of his time with you, his violet eye almost constantly on you, or a stray hand, elbow or any part of his body would find some way to be in contact with you.

When he performed his duties, the countless hours of reading and writing, he opted to do it more and more within your chambers or the large wooden table of the Library. On occasion you would even join him in his study, where he would attend to meeting with Lords and heads of Houses, never once dismissing you, and allowing you to sit in the background and listen.

But today, he sat and read, and you opposite him, though your eyes trailed over the words on the page, you found that you could not focus upon the story in your hand, eyes straying to look at the man in front of you.

What you had said, was true.

You knew that now.

Everything that you said was straight from your heart. The same heart which bled for the circumstances of your life. For your losses, and for the pain that you endured and would likely continue to do.

It was a daunting thing. To admit to someone who had taken so much from you, to admit to someone who had hurt you so much, that you loved them.

But these small confessions, these small offerings of truth and honesty seemed to pull Aemond closer to you. Even in your bouts of cruelty, even in your anger which boiled over, and the blade of your tongue pointed sharply at him, he still allowed you this anger.

He allowed you to feel it.

“Is it not to your liking?” Aemond commented, eye not straying from the page he was upon.

You cleared your throat, shutting the tome and placing it upon the small table in front of you, “I find I cannot concentrate on anything Law related.” You stood from your seat and moved across the Library floors, Aemond’s eye lifting to watch you as you came closer.

You sat down beside him, your hands in your lap as he took one in his own, the other resting atop the browning page of the tome.

“Will you read to me?” You quietly asked, squeezing his hand back in yours.

The Prince wore green robes today, though they were such a deep green, that if you had not been sitting at his side, you would have mistaken them for a black.

His violet gaze rolled over your face before he dipped his head, returning to his reading.

“It is the duty of the Crown to care for its subjects. Trade upon the Narrow Sea will aid the economy of the realm, and prevent such times in when the vaults become empty. Any gold that is not spent wisely can be counted as a loss to the people and their trade.” His voice was soothing and deep, and he read slowly for you, pronouncing each word with care as he kept his hand in yours, thumb stroking over the skin of your knuckles.

“If in the case a King is in need of the Prince Regent, there may be certain actions that can be taken. A Prince Regent, or in some cases, a Princess Regent, is a Prince or Princess who, due to their position in the line of succession, rules a monarchy as regent in the stead of a monarch. This is always the second in line for the throne, or third if the second is unable. If the heirs of the monarch are too young to rule, incapacitated by illness or ailment, or have been sworn in as a knight of the realm, then the kin of the King may take his place. They shall rule on the throne as the King would, treating with Lords, Small Council meetings, and caring for the state of the realm and its subjects. He or she may be required to settle petty grievances from smaller or lesser Lords, or land rebuttals from common folk. The Prince or Princess Regent may only rule as a result of the sovereign's incapacity, be this illness, injury, state of mind, or their absence from ruling by distance, exile, voyage.”

“Why are you reading this?”

Aemond clicked his tongue, “I need to know what else I am responsible for.”

Your eyebrows creased, “But you have not been named Prince Regent.”

The air around you was static, and the hand in your lap stopped smoothing the skin of your knuckle.

“Despite Aegon not naming me Prince Regent, it is known by the Lords and Small Council that I act as one. It is my duty to treat with the Lords who come to Kings Landing, and know the comings and goings of our small trading fleets.”

You scooted closer to Aemond, resting your head atop his shoulder as you looked down at the old and worn pages.

“My mother had named me her Hand before I wed you.” You told him quietly.

Aemond hummed, pressing a kiss atop your head, “She was wise in doing that.”

“She did not name me her heir.”

“No.”

A gentle quiet wrapped itself around the two of you as you waited for Aemond to continue his reading, eyes having found the line he was up to. The warmth of the fireplace had nothing on the warmth that radiated from your uncles body beside you.

“Lord Corlys Velaryon’s fleet has resumed their trading again.” Aemond informed you, your eyes blinking from the information, “They are no longer anchored around Dragonstone or Driftmark.”

“That is good news. They will need the gold for my mothers Kingdoms.”

Aemond hummed and resumed his reading, thumb starting its ministrations against your knuckles once more.

It was easier like this.

The calm.

The quiet between the two of you.

The bickering and fighting, anger, and rage of the both of you devouring each other had taken its toll. It was as though neither of you wished to disturb the peace you had finally settled into. Unwilling to disturb the dust that had settled after long last.

You watched the log of the fireplace slowly crumble away beneath the flames that ate it, little bursting crackles of fire rising to the top of the hearth and disappearing beneath the chimney. Each time you watched the flames, you thought of your dragon.

How you missed him.

It felt wrong to not be with him, or see him, or ride him. It was as though a part of you had been ripped away from your body. Like a limb that you still felt the phantom sensations of.

Because in truth, you still felt him, at the edges of your bond, angry, irritable, impatient.

Once Aemond had finished reading from the tome, he escorted the both of you back to your chambers where you had a quiet dinner, and an even quieter evening, settling amongst the pillows and sheets in his arms as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Aemond was to be in his study, and had insisted upon you joining him there. Before you left your own chambers, he told you to bring a book from the pile of your favourites with you to spend you day, and had even dared to ask if you wished to have the embroidery loom that Alicent had gotten some maids to deliver to your chambers be brought with you.

You decided upon a book and the loom, and walked beside him to the study, which was in the same wing of the castle the throne room was.

The walk was quick, and soon Aemond was sat behind a large mahogany desk, quill in hand, parchment spread across the table, with three to four tomes open on the desk at varying pages.

You sat in the chair opposite him, where Lords would usually be seated, and watched him as he worked, the loom on your lap, needle and thread pinched between your fingertips.

Deciding that it was best to leave him to his work, you began to attempt to embroider something.

It was not for a lack of trying, it was more to do with a lack of practice or will, and if you were to be honest with yourself, the fact that you were particularly distracted by the man who sat before you, eye narrowed upon the parchment he was writing on, his long fingers wrapped delicately around a quill.

It was the way his fingers held it, the way it moved it, such deep, quick, strokes from fingers that knew you most intimately. From fingers that could bring you to your peak quicker than your own could.

You straightened yourself in your seat, the wood of the chair creaking slightly as you crossed one leg over the other, attempting to alleviate the sudden ache that had settle between your thighs.

Aemond’s violet and sapphire gaze flicked up to yours, watching as you shifted before they dove back down to resume their writing, the needle of your loom pricking the tip of your finger. You hissed, and brought the finger to your lips to suck, leaving the needle and thread to dangle carelessly in your lap.

It was as you were sucking the small bead of blood that leaked from the tip, that you felt the heat of Aemond’s eye.

You looked up at him, so see that the grip on his quill was no longer a delicate one, but had tightened, and the lid of his violet eye, hooded. You sheepishly gave him a smile, dropping your hand back into your lap as you readjusted yourself again.

“What are you writing?”

Aemond’s held your gaze for a beat, his eye boring into your own intensely before he looked back down at the parchment, quill scratching roughly into the paper with more edge than it had done before.

His hand lifted, dipping the quill into the ink pot, “Lord Redwyne of the Arbor has begun trade with your mother and Lord Corlys’ fleet.”

You frowned, “But House Redwyne swore and oath to your brother.”

Aemond’s pink lips pursed, “They did. Though it would seem that gold may be a higher incentive for such loyalties.”

You felt giddy, but kept your face placid, “Sailors need their wine. Do they only trade? If it is only trade, then they have clearly not declared for my mother as their Queen. Gold is gold.”

“Gold is gold.” Aemond hummed, “And we have plenty. I am making offers to give them more than what Rhaenyra has offered.”

“An incentive for loyalties.”

Aemond hummed in agreement.

As you watched him continue to write, you could not help but notice something you had known for some time. Something you had voiced before, but not seen in action until now.

“You are a better fit for the throne than Aegon.”

Aemond’s sharp gaze met yours, and you watched as his eye narrowed upon your form, cheek twitching.

“You already act as King. You make informed, calculated, educated moves.” You opened your mouth again to continue, but the way Aemond was looking at you, told you to stop.

And so you did.

“Apologies.” You said meekly, looking back down at the loom in your lap, picking up the needle and thread that had been forgotten as you move to press it into the material.

“You would be a better fit than Jacaerys.”

A sharp sting settled in your chest, and a weight in your gut. Now you knew what Aemond had felt in that moment. Not a sense of loyalty, or blind rejection.

Bitter resentment.

Because despite it being the truth, despite it being a compliment most assured, it was the reality of it that cut deep.

The chambers were quiet, and you felt your husband staring at you for some time before the scratching of his quill began again. And in no time at all, to fill the space, he began to tell you about the Redwyne House, as though memorised word for word from a tome.

Most likely memorised word for word from a tome, if you knew anything about your husband.

“The seat of House Redwyne is the Arbor. It is an island located off the southwestern-most part of Westeros. One day I will take you there on dragonback. It is beautiful, if not for the heat in the summer. They make the best wine in Westeros, and have been serving it to the Targaryen dynasty for hundreds of years. Though I know you have a taste for spiced Dornish wines, and on occasion the honeyed wine we get from Essos.” Aemond spoke to the pages, your eyes watching his lips as he spoke.

Each word, each piece of knowledge that he revealed to you, only made the insides of your thighs grow wet with your slick. You didn’t know what was happening to you, but the intelligence of your husband was a refreshing change to the idiocy of the rest of the King’s men.

“The Redwynes control the Redwyne fleet, the largest fleet in Westeros, which could rival Lord Corlys’ but they have no thirst or desire for war and fighting. Lord Redwyne has informed us that they have two hundred warships and as much as five times as many mercheant carracks. Not including the wine cogs, trading galleys and whaling ships they have at their disposal.”

You squeezed your thighs together, watching as Aemond moved the full parchment to one side of the desk and picked up another, “They would seem to be a formidable foe if they had the thirst for power. Gold is their power. Much like the Lannister House. Though they are lions, I would say their scratch and bite has been reduced to that of a kitten.”

You body felt as though it was burning up, loom long forgotten in your lap as your squeezed the edges of the wood for grounding. Aemond, not even looking up from his page, must have noticed your predicament.

“Come here.” He mumbled, quill scratching into the parchment, not even looking up at you as he commanded you to him.

You all but jumped from your seat, walking around the table to stand beside him, looking down at him as he continued to write, the parchment and his words far more important than the needs of his wife in that moment.

The One-Eyed Prince shifted to lean back in his chair, opening space for you to crawl into as he dipped the quill into the ink pot again. Gathering your skirts in your hands, you crawled onto his lap and straddled him, facing him as your knees rested upon the large wooden seat beside his hips.

One hand came to hold the meat of your side as you settled your core against him, feeling the hardness of his length beneath you. You inhaled sharply and moved to roll your hips, but Aemond's hand tightened on your hip, and with his other hand, he began to untie his breeches, eye coming to watch your face.

You bit your lip as you waited, hands coming to rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the material of his tunic. The desire that rolled through you multiplied as his hands reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, the tip slightly pink and leaking with arousal.

He held it up for you as you rose on your knees, lining himself up with your dripping core before you slowly slid down on his length. Aemond hummed deeply as you slid down him, feeling his girth stretch you open.

When your hips met his, and the delicious fullness overwhelmed you, you sat for a moment, shifting your knees forward so that he could reach you deeper.

A small mewl fell from your lips, and the hand on your hip tightened. You moved to rise on his length to begin riding him, but Aemond's hand on your hip kept you down on top of him. The Prince leant forward, the shift causing his cock to brush against the spongey spot within.

“Please.” You whined, rutting your hips forward, core fluttering around his cock.

“In a moment. I need to finish my work.” He grunted, picking up his quill to begin writing again.

“Aemond.” You griped, grinding your hips down on him, the hand on your hip bruising your skin.

A puff of air passed Aemond lips, “Sit there, look pretty, and do as you’re told." He grunted, "You be good, and you will get what you want after.”

You grumbled, clenching yourself around him to try and satiate your need and lure him in, which only amplified your want.

“Be still.” He growled, resuming his writing, “Aegon has plans to clear the poverty of Flea Bottom.”

You huffed, trying to keep your hips still as you felt his length throb inside of you, “I don’t want to talk about Aegon right now.”

Aemond, ignoring your complaint, continued, “He has plans to demolish the poorly built shacks in the slums.”

You shifted slightly before giving up, sinking down onto Aemond's length with a huff as you rested your head against his chest, his arm circling around your waist to keep you against him, “But what about the people who live there?” You mumbled against his tunic.

“Exactly. He has no plans for them. Said they’ll ‘find some other hole or dwelling to squeeze into.’” The soft scratching of the quill stopped, waiting for your response.

You turned your head and let your eyes stray to the page behind you.

He was waiting for your response.

“But Flea Bottom is overcrowded as it is, it-“ You swallowed thickly, feeling Aemond shift his hips up slightly into you, “It would start fights amongst the small folk there and rise to the top.”

Aemond thrusted up into you again, the head of his cock brushing against the sensitive patch inside of you. A soundless sigh fell from your lips, slick coating the base of his cock, “Clever girl. And what else?” He asked, voice smooth and even.

You licked your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you sat up straighter, looking over his shoulder at the wall behind, “A revolt could start. The small folk could turn against us.”

Aemond’s hand on your hip guided you down onto his length as he pushed himself into you deeply, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your sensitive bud, “And that would not be good for public relations, would it?”

You moaned softly, hands winding their way into his hair to grip tightly, “N-no. It would fray tensions even further, bringing more support for my mothers rule despite the treaty.”

Another thrust, yet this time he stilled, smoothing the skin on your hip with gentle fingers. You felt like you were going to implode, the tension already winding rapidly, and yet his movements not quite giving you what you needed.

“And what would you do about Flea Bottom?”

You tried to shift your hips again, to find that you could not move with the hold he had on you. You whined into his neck.

“I asked you a question.”

You huffed, “I would build proper foundations in the slums, offer new housing. It would create trust and graciousness with the common people to the Crown.”

Aemond’s hand slid from your hip as he wrote with his other, his long fingers dipping beneath the skirt of your gown, brushing against your inner thighs teasingly, “That is the smart thing to do. But where do we get the gold, or stonemasons?”

Your hips thrust forward, trying to chase his hand, “You have plenty of gold.”

His hand slid to the meat of your inner thigh, resting heavily against it, “Not what I asked you.”

“Aemond.”

“Y/n.” He mocked you, “We both know you are clever, unless you are cock dumb. Tell me what you truly think. Tell me what you would do in my position. Then, I will reward you.”

You thought for a moment, cunt throbbing around him, “Raising the taxes would only create more stress upon the people who do not have the coins to spare.”

“Good.” He encouraged you, hand sliding back up to your core, hovering just over your pearl.

Emboldened, you swallowed thickly and continued, “And if you were to raise the taxes upon Noble born, it would also cause for troubles. Gold is gold, and their allegiance would be swayed.”

“Yes.” Aemond’s long finger pressed down onto your pearl and you jerked in his lap, a small grunt falling from his lips, Aemond slowly rolled your bud beneath his fingers in gentle circles, “So what can be done?”

Pleasure wound its way up your body as he waited for your response, your mind going slightly fuzzy as you tried to reason with your thoughts.

“If you raise the taxes, but only slightly with Noble born, make it almost unnoticeable. Even if it is by one or two more gold dragons, it is still more gold in the Crowns hand. But don’t raise taxes on the common folk,” Another swirl around your bud, but harder, “There are more of them than us, and despite most Lords believing their worth and word to not be worth what they have at their disposal, you’ll find that ruling with a love from your people is far better than with fear.”

Aemond continued to write behind you, dipping his quill into the ink pot, loudly and slowly scraping it, tapping the metal nib against the glass loudly. His fingers increased their speed, your walls tightening around him.

“We live g-gluttonous lives in the Keep. If we were to cut back, ah!” Aemond fingers sped up their movements, gathering the slick that had pooled into his lap to bring back to your pearl, the coil in your stomach winding, “If we c-cut back on our supplies then we could, -ngh, we could-“

“Yes?”

“We could cut costs there, and use gold in the vaults for said things on-ngh the infrastructure of Flea Bottom. It could in turn create new b-businesses, which means-ah-more people paying taxes, more gold-fuck-in the vaults and more gold to spend. Masons are easy to come by, give the-oh Gods-small folk the tools and means, and-“ You moaned loudly, feeling the coil begin to snap.

“Keep going, come on.” His fingers sped up, his cock firmly seated inside of you, stretching you and pressing against your walls in all the ways you needed.

“They could b-build themselves, or-or you could ask loyalists to offer their hand.”

Aemond dropped the quill into the holder, eye finally on you, “Good girl.”

His fingers pressed into your pearl sharply, and the coil snapped.

You writhed atop his lap as your release shot through you, walls clamping down on his length as you moaned in the chambers. Your limbs tingled with sparks of pleasure, wetness seeping onto Aemond’s robes below.

Your eyes scrunched tight, and Aemond moved forward to kiss at your temple as his hand begin to soothe your back. You slumped against him, cock still inside of you, hard and wanting as you breathed heavily, the world spinning on its axis.

“Olvie sȳz.” Very good, Aemond purred, your eyes blinking drearily against his chest.

You swallowed again, feeling Aemond lips press into your hair, “You could cut back on imports of apples from Cider Hall. House Farroway often sends extra anyway, and I see the apples rot and go to waste here. If we cannot give them to the people, then we should not spend so frivolously.”

“I shall write to House Farroway and notify them of our change in barrels needed.”

Your brows furrowed.

He had listened to you?

You shifted in his lap again, feeling Aemond still very much hard and deep within you.

Pulling back to look at his face, you placed your hands on his shoulders, "Let me help you.” You whispered.

But to your surprise, Aemond took one of your hands from him and kissed the open palm as he shifted his hips, hard member slipping from your core. You whimpered, feeling each ridge of his cock brush against your overstimulated centre.

“Later.” He murmured, before pulling you back against him.

The sound of parchment and quills was all that was heard for the duration of the day, with you seated still flush on Aemond lap.

“There have been rebellions in the Riverlands.”

The words made you come alive.

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