#but of course he does.. he just tries to rein it in..
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some Dragon Age II scribbles
#my Hawke is very diplomatic/calm.. I think to the point that it annoys Carver.. he’s always perfect and never gets angry!! >_<#but of course he does.. he just tries to rein it in..#but i think for all carver’s complaining they hang out every day even though they.. don’t really have to..#dragon age#dragon age ii#da2#da: 2#hawke#garrett hawke#carver hawke#bethany hawke#varric tethras#fenris#isabela dragon age#my art#my comics
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Nanami Kento NSFW Alphabet
Dynamics: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Spicy Alphabet
Warnings: Adult themes, obviously smut, mentions of giving head, light bondage
A/N: So this is a little apology for not writing anything for ya'll. I've been busy but hope you guys enjoy this!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
-Kento is incredibly attentive and sweet after having sex. Honestly he always wants to check in with you after, to make sure you're okay and to make sure he knows if there was anything you didn't like. Then of course he's quick to get you some water and perhaps one of your favored snacks. Then he likes to run a bath for you and help clean you up. While he cleans you, he's always sure to press kisses everywhere he can. If there are any bruises anywhere, he'll always be extra attentive with those.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
-His favorite body part of his partner would be your tits. Doesn't matter what size, color, or shape. He is a man who can appreciate some boobs...respectfully of course. Though if you asked him he'd be too much of a gentleman to ever fully admit that.
-On himself her particularly likes his hands. After all, he can do so much with them. He can use them to smooth down your body, gently run through your hair, or of course he would finger fuck you until your crying.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
-He honestly doesn't care to make too big of a mess so he definitely prefers to cum inside you. Of course, he'll wear a condom if you ask and i'll be honest, he's got a huge breeding kink.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
-He 100% uses pictures of you from his wallet to jack off. It may seem innocent when he pulls out his wallet and looks upon all the pretty pictures he has of you but sometimes behind closed doors, he misses you so much that he can't help it. You're just too cute~
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
-I can imagine Kento has a little bit of experience but not a lot. He's a busy, busy man keeping up with his job and then going back to Jujutsu Tech so he probably doesn't get laid that often. Granted, he has watched some porn but its not a whole lot.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
-Any position where he can see your face. Though I do think his two favorites would be Missionary and Cowgirl. Missionary is nice and easy, not too complicated and he can still fuck you good while getting to look at all the pretty expressions and reactions you have.
-For Cowgirl he'd really like that when he's tried from a long day of work. He gets to hand over the reins to you a little while you slowly roll your hips over his. He loves planting his hands on your hips and helping you as your eyes roll into the back of your head and you succumb to your own pleasure.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
-Kento definitely is not the joking type when it comes to having sex. He may crack one mildly funny comment here or there but his main focus is on making you feel good.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
-Despite his lack of free time, he is always sure to clean himself up. Self care is important he likes to feel well groomed and clean for himself and you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
-In the moment Kento can be very sensual and romantic. His eyes are on you, watching your reactions, feeling you and your body. It can be very intimate and I think Kento is one of those guys who doesn't just fuck, he prefers to make love.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
-Probably not too often, but often enough. Sometimes he can't come home until late at night and he feels the need to rub one out, or sometimes when you aren't around he takes matters into his own hands. But for the most part, he has you and his patience is incredibly strong so he'll wait for you if he has to.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
-Breeding kink. He 1000% has a breeding kink. He would never flat out tell you that he wants kids but if you ever went to him and told him that you desired to have a family, the man would jump on it so fast. There's just something about cumming inside you that gets him hard. I think he'd also like nipple play (giving and receiving). Oh and how could I forget..he'd also have a thing for bondage. With his tie or belt to be specific.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
-He definitely is not a huge fan of doing it in public or spaces where you could get caught. He definitely is more of the private type and just prefers the comfort of his or your house.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
-Oddly enough, you could be doing something as simple as washing dishes or folding laundry and he'd be turned on. There's something about doing simple, domestic things that gets him going.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
-He would never be too hard into choking. He's just not a huge fan and he doesn't like the idea of hurting you. He also isn't too keen on sharing you either. So no threesomes.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
-This man loves to give head. He absolutely adores it. There's just something about getting to bury his face into your wet heat for hours on end while rutting into the bed that does something to him. He finds it to be a form of stress relief and is one of his favorite ways to wind down after a long day.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
-I feel like it depends on his mood. Normally he's into slow and sensual. I'm talking about deep, passionate kisses, slow rolls of his hips, making sure you feel everything he's giving you. But if you ever decide to act like a brat or he just feels pent up and frustrated then he may go a bit rougher than usual. Of course if he's ever too rough with he'll always apologize and he probably feels too guilty to go too rough with it.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
-Kento isn't a huge fan of quickies. I mean why rush it when he can have you all to himself? But if he really needed it, he wouldn't be completely opposed to having a quickie. But only for dire situations.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
-He's not too risky. He likes to play it safe and make sure you are comfortable. But if you ever wanted to try something new then he'd listen and consider it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
-It depends on how tired he is and how pent he is. I'd say he could last a good 3 rounds, taking about five minutes each. But at the end of the day I think it matters most about how long you can last? He'll stick it out for however long it takes you to cum, which trust me....it won't take too long.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
-Not completely against toys but he doesn't own any himself. If you were to buy some he'd totally be fine with using them on you and it comes to himself you may need to convince him a little but he could never really say no to you...
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
-If you are being a brat then he will 100% tease and hold back your orgasm. But in general, no. He's not too big of a tease.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
-Kento starts off quiet, maybe with a few hushed words here and there, a few assurances and compliments before he starts to breathe deeper. his breaths turn into small groans and pants and by the end of it I think you could get a few good moans out of him right before he cums.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
-As much as he hates it and is shameful of it, he steals your dirty panties. He just got so, so desperate one time and you weren't around. He needed something of you and he happened to find your dirty clothes bin. After that he became almost addicted. The scent of you lingering in his nose, the feel of your panties around his cock feels too good.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
-When soft i'd say he's about 6 inches and when hard he goes up to 7 inches. Its long-ish and girthy and can be a lot to take on sometimes. When he gets hard has a rosy red tip and one or two noticeable veins that run up and down his shaft.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
-His sex drive is on the average side but can be a bit high when he gets pent up. Sometimes he's so busy that he doesn't notice but as soon as he's with you all of the sudden his dick is hard and he has no idea what happened.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
-He always waits for you to fall asleep first. No matter how tired he is he'll always make sure you are comfortable and safe in his arms. Sometimes he'll even read to you if you ask. His deep, soft voice lulls you to sleep as reads over endless words on pages from his favorite book.
#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#nanami kento smut#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#jjk x y/n
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SMTH WITH USHIJIMA preferably nsfw
Ushijima Headcanons (18+)
Minors do not interact ⚠️ This material is for 18+ readers only. Thank you
Now without further ado
• Getting to the physical stage with Ushijima can be difficult at times. He tries his best to balance volleyball with his romantic life, but often times he has a lot on his mind and you have to take initiative. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, of course he does, he’s just not overly needy.
• If you want to get him worked up, mess with him. Wear his oversized clothes. Dress up for him. Make him jealous. Use his competitiveness to your advantage, that man is possessive.
• He’s dominant and firm, but he’s also loving. Majority of the time he’s very vanilla, his large hands handle you with care and he’s determined to leave you satisfied no matter what. He does tiny things like forehead kisses or brushing your hair from your face. <3 I hc that he has such an intimidating exterior, but really he’s a sweet guy. He’s never one to joke during sex, he values the intimacy of it. If you make it to that stage with him, he really truly has romantic feelings for you.
• As expected, he’s not particularly vocal during the deed. He doesn’t like to talk—he would rather show you how he feels physically. You may get an occasional groan from him, but otherwise it’s a lot of ragged breathing and low humming.
• Power bottom. He likes letting you take the reins. You’re so small against him, and he’s so strong that it takes little effort for him to get you off. He loves holding you down against his lap and watching you squirm, or even watching you ride his thigh. He holds eye contact so well it embarrasses you, and it sends you over the edge every time. He knows it.
• Big. So big. Did I mention that he’s big.
• He honestly takes some getting used to. You’re nervous the first time, and he can tell, but he’s done this before and he knows how to be gentle. He properly prepares you and makes sure you’re relaxed enough when the time comes.
• In the case that he is rough with you, it tends to be after a tough loss. You understand, and you encourage him to use you to feel better. He’s always very tentative afterwards, making sure to hold you gently, massage you, or help you clean up.
• When it comes to oral, he prefers to receive. Something about seeing you look up innocently at him while struggling with his size sets him off, he may have a size kink.
• He sees masturbation as a natural need, so he does it fairly often. On rare occasion, if he’s at an away tournament, he may even call you for help. Asking what you’re doing, or what you’re wearing.
• He’s very traditional, so he mainly prefers to keep it in the bedroom. He isn’t a fan of quickies, but very rarely you can manage to provoke him in the car or a semi-public place.
• He has a LOT of stamina. If he’s in the mood, he’s in the mood, and you’ll be sore for the next few days. ;)
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This is my first general nsfw hc post, I try not to be overly explicit, I hope that’s alright! Thanks for reading. :)
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I need a fic where Ghost and Soap are on the run but like, framed and on the run.
They're on an assignment, just the two of them, to co-lead a team for the prevention of assassination for some big-name politician (dunno, I like to think this would happen either in usa or in the uk...) and it's all done and they're about to pack their shit and go back to base when Soap gets an encrypted call from Price to tell him that a video of Ghost killing the same big-name politician is on the telly
It's not Ghost, obviously, but it's someone of Ghost's posture, in Ghost's gear and Ghost's mask.
Also obviously, Soap doesn't believe it.
They get surrounded pretty fast by the local SWAT-like team and Soap makes Ghost use him as a hostage so they can escape with a minimal amount of maiming -- Soap is pretty sure Ghost could escape on his own, but it'd be a bloody mess that would follow him after he was proven to be framed.
Of course, Ghost tries to get Soap to leave once they're out of the danger zone. He does not.
Cue Ghost and Soap on the run while Price, Gaz and Lasewell try to find out who is framing him.
Simon's existence was erased so much that there are no pictures of him anywhere so instead, his APB has a sketch and a description. Problem is, the scars on his face were included, and way too characteristic to miss them (whether it's the glasgow smile or other scars, dunno, but you get my point). At first, it's really hard to move around because scars/mask + Simon being like 6'4 and built like a tank scream 'notice me'. Simon grows out a beard - it's red-ish blond colour so he ends up dying his hair red too. He absolutely doesn't care but Soap mourns because he's barely started being able to see Simon's face and hair and now it's all changed up.
Soap doesn't have an APB at first, but after a couple of days he is named as complicit (because he's seen helping Ghost run) and his photo is out. He has to shave the mohawk because it's too eye-catching (he's fucking bald and he hates it). He has to rein in his accent because he is described as glasgowian scottish. He can't call his maw so he sends her a random postcard he picked up a few towns ago and sends a short and cryptic message, hoping she believes he's not a terrorist.
Soap also finds out Ghost knows way too many shady people and knows way too easily where to look for even more shady people if he needs something the former people don't have. They steal shit out of necessity, often clothes and food, but sometimes they pickpocket cards and wallets. Some days they sleep in the car, some days they stop at questionable motels or hostels, and some days they don't sleep at all. They have burner phones but don't contact Price at all.
There would be a mandatory 'taking care of each others' wounds' scene (no bandages, please, you rarely use bandages in healthcare nowadays) after a dangerous run-in, a mandatory 'pretend to be a couple to lose the trail' and after that, an awkward 'there was only one bed' scene where things happen for the first time and they have a sloppy handjob or two.
They're probably trying to escape the country but can't do it via air because of the APBs and have to make their way to some shady port and even shadier ferry or cargo ship that won't run their fake passports in the system if they pay well enough.
Ghost is surprising Soap once again with an off-shore bank account and a knowledge of whichever country they're in's language. They move somewhere less crowded but not small enough that two Brits would be weird. Some people refer to Ghost as Soap's husband.
Weeks or months go by.
"What if they can't prove I didn't do it?"
"You faked your death once, love, I think you can do it twice."
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lookism boys realizing they have a crush????
Mmmm lookism boys dealing with their crush on you. My faaave. Love this developing blossoming romance shit. Loveeeee the realisation and dancing around their feelings and figuring out what to do. Thank you for this.
Lookism Boys Crushing on YOU
(Johan, Jake, Vasco, Gun, Goo... who's playing favourites?!) Part 2
Johan
Ugh it's hard enough getting used to having a friend around. He had his whole lone wolf thing going on before you came along. And now he has to deal with feelings? What's that all about??
And the way Eden and Miro loves you? Stop. Stoooop. He works hard to try and repress his budding crush for you but why do you have to keep worming your way into his stone cold heart.
He's a weirdo at the best of times and now he's just extra odd. He stares at you. A lot. And he can't help but want to be by your side even when he pulls himself away. He catches himself smiling at you absentmindedly. When he realises what his stupid heart is doing he is annoyed and unfortunately it shows outwardly.
Don't even ask about his jealous tantrums. Yikes.
They're something else until he figures out what to do about this. Yeah he knows he's childish but even he is perceptive enough to realise how he acts around you isn't normal or healthy. But you mentioning spending time with other guys? How cool someone else is? Or sweet? Please don't, his poor lil heart can't take it.
Jake
Sigh. Maybe he should have reined it in with his flirtatious banter and winks. At first they were just empty words and innocent silliness. I mean, don't think about it too hard, he's like this with everyone.
But when he starts wanting a sincere reaction from you? And hoping for a grain of truth behind your teasing responses? He was doomed.
So yeah. He has a big old crush on you and he feels like he should really keep it a bit more professional as Big Deal No.1. Try as he might to restrain himself though, the honeyed words can't stop slipping from his lips. They just get more intense and sillier.
...And start to get completely directed at you. All of it. Well this is an interesting development that the rest of Big Deal take note of. Of course they notice their boss is soft on you. It's obvious.
If he learned one thing from Sinu, it's that mutual pining especially for over ten years does no one good. He's not a coward. He will confess, he just needs you to take him seriously.
Vasco
Listen. Our Vasco Tabasco is already commited. He's married to the Burn Knuckles and he's got bad guys to beat up. He's already tried his hand at dating and he knows what his priorities are so he doesn't have time for a crush-oh.
Ohhhhhh.
The realisation creeps up on him. He's dense but he's not that dense ok? He finds the way his cheeks warm and heart pounds strange when he's in your presence or talking to you. And yeah he may need a little help with Jace to realise what's going on but he does realise. Sooner or later.
Type of silly guy to start fantasising about all sorts of wholesomeness with you even whilst just crushing on you. What was that Jace? Just thinking about Y/N and if they think it would be cute if we shared a chocolate milk hehe.
Ohoh I should confess first? How am I going to that!!!
Gun
It irks him when Goo is anyway involved with his personal life at the best of times, but when Goo points out he's getting soft on you? He finds this annoying, he finds YOU annoying. How dare Goo and how dare you and especially how dare himself.
Outwardly, he doesn't change how he behaves with you once he comes to terms with his feelings. It doesn't do well for him to try and develop his crush further.
But this man barely has a threadbare excuse for being topless most of the time, so what if he does it a little bit more in your presence?
And so what if he cuts back on smoking because it makes you cough? And wears his hair a little messier cos he found you staring at him a bit starry-eyed and slackjawed that time? And if he responds back to your texts a little quicker even if it's just saying "I'm fine"?
Are you going to fight him about it?
Goo
Mercy above, you're giving him a migraine.
For a man that loves himself and loves money as much as Goo, to actually start turning down money making opportunities to spend time with you?? Oh boy. That's a pretty big achievement. Well done you for getting the attention of this menace.
He is definitely not happy with this realisation, he doesn't like anything that messes with his finances but no matter, this is a problem he can solve.
If you thought this man was irritating and clingy before, have I got news for you. He is texting or calling or just wanting to hang with you all. The. Damn. Time. You're constantly on his mind these days, and he thinks he should be on yours too even if he barges his way in.
That's what you get for forcing this crush on him.
#lookism#lookism headcanons#lookism hc#lookism x reader#jake kim x reader#johan seong x reader#gun park x reader#goo kim#vasco x reader#jake kim#goo kim x reader#vasco#gun park#johan seong#lookism fic#lookism fanfics#wannaeatramyeon
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OKAY COULD I REQUEST THE TIEFLING BOYS BEING BOTTOMS WITH THEIR MALE S/O?
anon. not gonna lie. i got carried away with Zevlor a bit, i just have SO many feelings about him today. so.
hope you like this it's VERY horny and i think i need a cold shower after thinking about this too much tbh.
ty for the request <3333
Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Bottoming With Male!Tav
explicit sexual content, MDNI/18+
How the tiefling boys bottom for their male partner
Dammon:
Dammon has more experience topping than anything else – there's a thrill he gets from being in control, like how he feels in the forge, bending strong metals to his will. But that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to letting Tav take the reins.
In fact, he quite likes giving up that power after a very stressful day; something about laying back and letting Tav do the thinking for him is relaxing. Like a break from his real-world worries.
So, when Tav takes the initiate, running hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of Dammon’s body, he instinctively submits – body relaxing, tail curling around Tav’s bicep as a wet tongue runs down his chest.
He tries to play it cool, but the way his cock stands stick straight against his groin gives away the fact that having Tav top makes him a little feral. Tav calls it eagerness, the way Dammon will situate himself, chest on the bed knees, hips and ass lifted without prompting. It’s an invitation and a show. Wiggling his rear like a cat in heat.
But even then, he doesn’t like to skip right to the final act, he likes to be played with, to have Tav’s fingers take him slowly, working him open until he’s almost there. And in the moment, he swears he hates how Tav pulls his fingers away to deny him an orgasm, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him cum that much harder during sex.
Finally, when he’s perfectly worked up and damn near grinding his hips against the bed to urge on his climax, Tav takes him. And Dammon takes all of him, hips pushing back ever so slightly to be filled even more, if that were possible.
Dammon relishes in the stretch of Tav, closing his eyes to try and feel the way his girth opens him wide. They stay like that for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of Tav seated deep in Dammon’s ass.
Then he easily accepts Tav’s pace, letting his partner grab his hips to control the rhythm, even though he desperately wants to buck back, to receive him just as much as he gives. But he relents, Tav driving into him again and again in the spot that makes the edges of his vision fuzzy.
And when Tav reaches down to fist Dammon’s cock in his hand, Dammon spills immediately, too worked up to take the extra sensation without losing himself.
No matter how sensitive, he readily accepts Tav’s frantic thrusts until he comes too, both collapsing and laughing at their dopey smiles and sweat streaked brows.
Rolan:
Rolan, as cocky as he tries to be, loves nothing more than to be fucked by Tav. It’s hardly ever that he’s the one topping, let’s be real. The man enjoys watching his partner devour him, likes being hauled around and taken care of. But he would never admit that out loud.
It’s so easy to get him to relent, he basically does it without even thinking about it. The moment he feels Tav’s kisses turn wanting, he’s pliant and willing, letting Tav guide him wherever he wants.
He’s impatient, though, and after a few minutes he’s already squirming under Tav’s touch, nearly begging to be striped and fucked. Tav’s the one that needs to slow things down, but you won’t find Rolan complaining when Tav is laying him back, a pillow underneath him for the perfect angle to circle his hole with a wet tongue.
Tav has to be careful not to add a finger, or Rolan will come too fast – and he likes to take his time. Rolan whimpers – makes noises no one would ever guess have come from the smug wizard – as Tav’s tongue laps at his rim hungrily.
His face is bright red, heated as he holds his knees high, offering himself as a full course meal to his lover. The wet, debauched sound of Tav’s tongue plunging into him makes his length twitch with excitement. Tav’s pleased groans don’t help either; Rolan finds a strange pleasure in knowing how much Tav loves the taste of him.
He tries to hold out, tries to think of any mundane thoughts that could keep him from coming and keep Tav’s mouth lavishing his rim, but he knows when he’s too close to the edge, tapping out so that he can get to his favorite part.
Which is sitting on his lover’s cock, of course.
Even though Rolan is on top, Tav maintains all the control, gripping his hips hard enough to bruise, lowering him down as slow as possible to savor the way his face contorts as he’s filled entirely. Tav lifts his ass up off his cock before forcing him back down. He repeats the motion, before holding Rolan firmly against him while he mercilessly bucks his hips upwards, using his hands to spread him wide.
Rolan has to bite his cheek to keep from being embarrassingly loud, sometimes so hard that he draws blood with his sharp teeth.
He tries to reach for his own cock, wanting a touch while spearing himself on Tav, but Tav never allows it – wanting to draw out Rolan’s orgasm to match his own.
Even so, Rolan almost always comes first, painting Tav’s stomach with hot spend. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, Tav will swipe a finger through it, raising it to Rolan’s mouth so that he can taste his own cum, as Tav’s hips jerk their last few thrusts.
The next day Rolan’s hips are marked and bruised, two perfect Tav sized handprints on his red skin. Rolan loves the secret reminders he gets to feel all day.
Zevlor:
I personally see Zevlor as someone who, even as a younger man, was preoccupied with the Hellriders and his oath to care for things like seeking out sex. As he got older and was placed in a position to lead, personal relationships – sexual or romantic –just had to be put to the wayside.
All that is to say, Tav is the first man that he has ever been with, at least sexually. Even if he has been with men in the past, he’s not very experienced. And combined with the trauma he has faced recently, it’s perfectly normal that he would want to take things slower in the bedroom.
So, the first couple times he and Tav have sex, he tops, to help him feel more in control of the situation. But, when he finally starts to feel comfortable again in the bedroom, he’s open to the idea of Tav taking that role. It’s an act of trust, if anything.
He’s jittery at first, of course. Laying under Tav as they kiss, his hands slightly shaking as he holds Tav’s face. Not nerves, but an uneasy excitement, rather. But soon he’s rocking his clothed hips in time with Tav’s, meeting him in the middle to feel the friction from his hardened cock. It spurs him on.
Tav is gentle with him, slow and considerate, taking his sweet time undressing Zevlor, peppering his skin with kisses as more skin is exposed. When Zevlor’s smallclothes are pulled away, his cock is already dripping with excitement.
He’s familiar with the feeling of Tav’s hands on him, acquainted with his partner’s calloused fingers wrapping around his cock, but it still excites him, nonetheless. Especially when Tav ducks down to suck Zevlor’s tip into his mouth, still eagerly working over his length.
Zevlor is a gasper, ever move Tav’s tongue and hand makes against his cock is accompanied by a sharp inhale, like his lungs need more air. With the way Tav enthusiastically sucks at him, he just might.
He comes in Tav’s mouth, and for a second, he’s ashamed, fearful that he’s ruined their night. But Tav is happy and content, swallowing Zevlor’s spend like a sweet dessert, ready to work him up again until he’s ready to take more.
When the time comes, Tav catches him in a kiss, not stopping as he hooks both of Zevlor’s legs around his waist – the perfect angle for Zevlor to begin taking his length. And he does. He gasps and moans and sighs as Tav seats himself fully in Zevlor’s tight hole. For a moment, neither move.
Then Tav moves, slowly withdrawing his length as he gauges Zevlor’s reaction. He didn’t expect the look of pure hunger on Zevlor’s face as he digs his heels in Tav’s rear, forcing him into the hilt.
He wants to be ravaged, the feeling of Tav’s cock stretching him causing something to snap within him, a carnal need for more. When Tav sets a relentless pace, he’s in a different realm, legs spreading wider to try and feel him even deeper, if such a thing were possible.
They come together – the hardest orgasm Zevlor has ever had. Zevlor falls asleep wrapped up with Tav, feeling more in control than he ever has.
#bg3#bg3 smut#bg3 dammon#bg3 rolan#bg3 zevlor#dammon#rolan#zevlor#dammon x tav#zevlor x tav#rolan x tav#baldur's gate 3#my writing#requests/suggestions#anon#HCs
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horse girl zoro/prince sanji au that @redgitanako and i talked about way back when because it suddenly crossed my mind OKAY HERE WE GO
zoro’s a travelling bounty hunter with three horses. yes, three. don’t tell kitetsu and enma but wado’s his favourite
wado was kuina’s horse; when kuina died she was so sad because she didn’t get why kuina was gone and for a while zoro had to emotionally support a horse AND himself, but horses are smart creatures. wado understood by herself after a while. they don’t really talk about it.
on that note, zoro talks to his horses. people look at him like he’s a few crayons short of the whole pack but they don’t say anything because he looks scary as hell; built like a brick wall, one eye gone, gnarly scar across his chest and all
(they’ll never know that he’s having an argument with enma about buying supplies where one party is contributing in possibly-misinterpreted horse looks. the crayons aren’t missing— but it’s admittedly a little hard to prove they’re there, zoro, we can’t keep defending you like this)
sanji's the third prince of the kingdom that hires him; sora’s the queen, and his siblings are all decent other than regular sibling assholery. judge is on the run and they’ve made the collective decision that they want his head on a stick.
zoro expects sanji to be a stuck-up priss because he LOOKS like a stuck-up priss— look at his perfect hair. his clothes. his heeled boots and his stupid curly eyebrows
but NO. well, yes, sanji IS a little bit of a stuck-up priss but also, he’s good with horses?? wado takes to him like a DREAM and zoro's flabbergasted because anybody who has ever tried to coddle her other than zoro or kuina has gotten kicked in the head, but sanji's petting at her neck and cooing at her in baby-talk and she's licking sugar cubes and apple slices out of his palm. zoro feels so betrayed.
like of COURSE his horse had to take a liking to the boy he hates OF ALL PEOPLE.
(zoro. at this moment the horse is smarter than you. listen to her.)
reiju’s the princess here, but sanji’s the one who got all the magic-esque affinities. animals LOVE him. he would be a literal disney princess if not for the fact that he doesn’t love them back
like SQUIRREL. WHY ARE YOU SHITTING ALL OVER MY YARD. GO AWAY. WHY IS A DOG TRYING TO LICK MY HAIR. WHYYY IS THIS BIRD BRINGING ME STICKS ALL THE TIME. he’s trying to fall asleep. he hears a TSKTSKTSKTSKTSKTSKTSK. he sits up and gets right out of bed and starts yelling at the lizard on the ceiling.
he does have a pretty mare called maple, though! (and zoro can’t help but love her too; it’s a sign that the mosshead doesn’t clock until much, much later)
and then zoro comes into his life with his three horses and sanji yanks him in by the collar like "listen up, swordsman. i do not CARE how sweet your horses are. i do not CARE how— how— WHATEVER you are. if you stink up my stable i will make you sleep in it, are we clear?" and zoro just nods because he’s having a bit of a gay crisis
sanji is 1. pretty 2. entirely able to hold his own and 3. Wado Approved™ and zoro does NOT know how to deal. at all. he’s holding onto wado’s reins for dear life. he wonders if the same ultimatum would apply if he swapped out the word stable for bed and immediately wants to dunk himself into the horse trough.
meanwhile sanji isn’t spared at all. sora sits on her throne, one eyebrow raised as her son goes on and on about how "mother i hate the swordsman you hired. he's green. and ugly. like a troll. like an OGRE. his hands are too big. his boots are too shiny. his earrings are cute but only because i want them. his EVERYTHING smells like horse. he might as well be a horse with how strong he is, did you know how many hay bales he carried at once??" and she’s just like,,, "honey are you sure this is hate"
she certainly wouldn’t mind them being together. zoro is rough around the edges and does smell a bit like horse, admittedly, but he was clearly raised right— he’s respectful in his own gruff way and he does things with immense care. sora’s noticed. she knows her son well enough to know that he’s noticed, too.
one day sanji bumps into zoro on his way out of the baths and wow. okay. so he doesn’t smell like horse ALL the time and oh his hair is damp and there's a towel around his waist and he is very, very shirtless and sanji turns around in a panic and walks face-first into a pillar.
he watches zoro care for his horses, carefully brushing through their manes and coats as he speaks to them softly, and alright. maybe this guy isn’t all bad. animals, sanji has noticed, are brilliant judges of character; horses especially can be testy and temperamental, and they don’t hesitate to kick anybody they don’t like.
zoro’s horses love him, and it’s obvious. maple looks forward to the snacks he slips her when he thinks that nobody’s looking. that says a lot more about his character than anything else.
after a few days zoro has a solid plan down and sets out to find judge, and suddenly the stables are empty. sanji finds himself going out with maple more and more, exploring the woods around their forest to pass the time because he needs something to keep his mind occupied and there’s only so much he can cook. judge might be a piece of shit, but he’s also an evil genius, and sanji refuses to admit he’s worried even though he is.
and then zoro comes back with judge’s war helmet wrapped in a cloth, gore dripping off the bottom edge as he sets it at sora’s feet.
he’s a little banged up, tired as hell with a couple of scratches here and there— nothing serious, but sanji still drags him to the infirmary and cleans him up perhaps a little more emotionally than either of them had expected
he passes out for a good few days afterwards but sora invites him to stay for a little longer, a time frame that nobody specifies. zoro just kind of… doesn’t leave. it’s strange for him; he’s wandered, always. he gets antsy staying in one place for too long, but this blond prince that is strangely kind and gives back as good as he gets is really something else.
the days pass. they race and bicker and soon enough, all three of zoro’s horses have brass name plaques tacked above what are now their stalls. he had a room in the palace and a place at the dinner table. sanji’s hair has grown long, now, and neither of them talk about the way that zoro’s stay has become something that feels more permanent—
until zoro finally finds the balls to give sanji one of his earrings as a courting gift. it’s the first one of many, but at that moment sanji just looks at it wide-eyed and zoro starts to shrink back all like "if you. don't want it that's alright. i'll get you something new, something else—" because look, he knows he’s not much. he has money, but not enough to give sanji something really nice. not enough to get something that’s more impressive than all the jewels and gold that the prince could have at a whim. he’s a bounty hunter that came from dirt and this earring is the most precious thing he has to offer, but he understands if—
sanji kisses him. yells something borderline incoherent along the lines of about fucking time as he shakes zoro by the shoulders, but he’s smiling very brightly and he’s very beautiful and zoro has a feeling they're going to be just fine.
(sora and the siblings breathe a collective sigh of relief, because the pining looks and dejected sighing were really getting a little ridiculous.)
(they speak too soon. after they get together it somehow gets WORSE.)
this was a ride… (get it. get it.) okay i’ll stop HOPE YOU ENJOYED HEH i know a lot of places are having a flu season/covid wave going around rn so make sure to hydrate and eat well!! muaks 😽
#i have REALLY got to stop sleeping at 4am#horse girl zoro au#zosan#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#zoro x sanji#one piece#sanji#one piece zosan#one piece sanji#one piece zoro#zoro
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tōdō as a romantic partner headcanons
note: just some thoughts on the topic
pairing: tōdō aoi x gn!reader
word count: 1k
tags: gender neutral reader, tōdō aoi-centric, very fluffy and domestic
first thing’s first, tōdō is a good partner. a great one even. i know this in my bones.
one of his greatest attributes as a partner is that he loves you so loudly. he will never shy away from singing your praises or complimenting you. he’ll brag about you to anyone who will listen, whether they’re willing to lend an ear or not. (as much as his peers enjoy your company, they’ve grown sick of hearing tōdō ramble on and on about you. they normally phone or text you when this happens, begging for you to reach out to tōdō, so they’ll be granted a moment of reprieve.)
tōdō loves being yours as much as you’re his. when the opportunity presents itself, he loves being able to proudly boast to others, especially individuals who may take too much of an interest in you or him for that matter, that he’s your partner. he experiences a bit too much joy when he gets to witness in real time how their face crumbles and they scramble away in defeat. even if you admonish tōdō for this behavior, he can’t bring himself to ever feel too sorry. after all, they should have known better.
tōdō is so so so loyal to you. of course, loyalty in a relationship is the bare minimum, but tōdō’s loyalty to you borders on reverence. he worships you, loving you so wholly. so completely. other people could never compare to you, could never hold as much space in his mind as much as you do.
tōdō is not always aware of his own strength and size, but the longer you’re in a relationship, the more he tries to be conscious of it. if you want to rough house, he’ll hold back, never using his full-strength. if you’re lying down together and cuddling, he’s careful to not crush you beneath his weight. sometimes, he does forget how strong he is, often caught up in his excitement of seeing you or showing you something and will manhandle you, but never to the extent that he would hurt you. he would never.
he really appreciates when you express interest in the things he likes. he’s incredibly passionate about JPOP, especially takada-chan. he could go on for hours and hours about the industry and his favorite idol, and sometimes he will, too caught up in his passion. he’s used to one-sided conversations when it comes to his rambling, but his excitement always increases whenever you ask him questions about what he’s talking about. he’s especially touched when you present him with little gifts related to his interests or recall snippets of your conversations together. most people brush off what he says, and for the most part, it doesn’t bother him, but to be seen and heard by you fills him with a joy he never thought he would experience.
being with tōdō means you get scary dog privileges. tōdō’s physique combined with his personality means that others tend to give you both a wide berth. but if on the off chance, somebody happens to get too close or makes you uncomfortable with tōdō around, they’ll wish they didn’t. tōdō goes from zero to one hundred so quickly, transforming right before your eyes. the only reason he doesn’t greviously harm the person bothering you is because you rein him in, holding the leash to his collar in your hands.
he’s so gentle with you in a way that his peers thought him incapable of. tōdō’s whole demeanor just softens when you’re around or you’re mentioned that his peers couldn’t believe their eyes when they witnessed the change in his behavior the first time you were introduced to them. of course, tōdō is still tōdō, but he becomes more at ease when you’re beside him.
tōdō is a very tactile person. he always wants to be touching you in some way, whether it’s an arm slung around your waist, his hand in your back pocket, or his side pressed against yours. he’s a very big fan of pda, shameless in the way he loves you, so if you’re not as big as a fan, you’ll have to let him know to tone it down a bit. he abides by your wishes, but sometimes, he can’t restrain himself and is compelled to act out on his desires when he thinks you look much too attractive for your own good, which is more often than not.
tōdō definitely carries your picture around with him, so he can have a reminder of you wherever he goes. he bought one of those accordion plastic wallet insert that has multiple sleeves, so he can have multiple pictures of you in his wallet since just one would not suffice for him. he also buys a locket, nicer than the one that holds a picture of itadori and takada-chan, and puts his favorite picture of you inside of it.
he is so into buying matching things. he wants y’all to get matching slippers, matching mugs, matching outfits, etc etc. it’s cute to a certain degree, but some of his suggestions are questionable at best. you’ve had to divert his attention away from some atrocious matching shirts he suggested you both get before.
tōdō is a great person to consult when it comes to hygiene products. since he takes such good care of himself, he knows what works and what doesn’t. he’s more than eager to offer any assistance you may need! if you ask him what are some good skincare products, he’s already drafting a list of products that he thinks would work for your skin type. if you ask him what shampoo and conditioner combination seems better, he provides you with information on what each one does and lets you decide which one would work out better for you. once you’ve refined your skincare routine and shower routine, tōdō buys all of the products you like to keep at his place for when you come over (if y’all don’t live together at that point.)
at the end of the day, people think tōdō is just a meathead, and while that may be true to a certain extent, he is also a thoughtful and loving partner that treats you wonderfully and loves you with all of his being <3
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#todo x reader#todo aoi x reader#toudou x reader#toudou aoi x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk headcanons#new.mail#from.jujutsu kaisen#love.todo aoi
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When Pride Married Prejudice
[ part two ]
[ series masterlist ]
prompt: in the beginning, your mother delivers disturbing news, but perhaps, not all is as it seems.
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!reader
fandom: House of the Dragon
word count: 9.7k+
warnings: spoilers, cursing, small angst, 150% filler, small background, author breaks the fourth wall once but go with it - i promise it works. author is also given free rein of her imagination and this came out...hmm...
❗️major season one, episode seven spoilers
"What?" You asked with a beg over the sounds of the crashing waves on the cliffside your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, had lead you out to stand on. She had just delivered devastating news with a sympathetic gaze, making you beg her again, "Say it's not true, Mother, please, no, no. Th-This isn't... Mum, how could this happen?"
"I am truly sorry, my sweet girl," Rhaenyra sighed, nodding at you as her hands caressed both your cheeks to sweep stray tears as they fell. Her forehead met yours, making her whisper, "But while I could not stop the entire proposal, I was able to bargain for leeway."
"What does that mean?" You pulled back to look into her lavender eyes. They were full of sadness and regret.
"You will remain at Dragonstone with your family, so I might continue to teach you - and so you do not have to interrupt your other studies. But..." She sighed deeply, blinking a few times to clear her thoughts.
"But?"
"They want you married before you turn ten-and-eight."
"No," you blanched, shaking your head in refusal to free yourself of her comforting hold, "they cannot make me marry him. Mother, please, do not let this happen."
"I could only barter for us a few years yet, my love."
"This is the payment they demand?"
"Better this, my sweet dove, then that of blinding your brother," she countered with a frown. "The Queen was unwilling to barter at first, but the King thought it a rightful proposal."
"And who, might I ask, offered my hand to Aemond Targaryen for payment over a childish squabble - that, yes, did maim the boy, but that's not... It's not like... Oh, Gods, yes, okay, when I say it out loud, I suppose I can understand the reasoning. Then why does this still feel so wrong, Mother?"
She frowned and reached for you, pulling you in closer to hold. You clung to her in fright, allowing yourself a moment of rare vulnerability as you stood alone; the only sounds around you, that, of the temperamental sea. She spoke softly in your ear, "I am truly so very sorry, my sweet girl. I am." Her hand pet the back of your head, but her grip remained strong. "But there is honor in fulfilling one's duty. I wanted very different things for you, but fate is funny at times."
You tightened your hold on her. "Tell me the truth, Mother, what's happened?"
She sighed and laid a long, solemn kiss to the top of your head. "You are of an age now that you will understand." She gave a soft pinch to your chin, "And have always been much too mature for your age."
You chuckled softly, "I often think there's much you don't know about me. I am not the perfect child you've tried to mold me into."
"Oh, I know everything, my girl," she grinned, making you feel heated from embarrassment. "You were truly restless as a child, it was hard to keep you within the castle walls. But might I tell you a secret?"
"Of course."
"Ser Harwin was always looking after you," she chuckled. "He would take extra shifts in the night to patrol the city just to ensure you were safe. But what he reported back always made my heart swell with genuine pride."
"Might I tell you a secret?" She nodded and let one hand hold your upper arm and the other to caress an unruly strand of hair back behind your ear. "I always wondered if one day, you would name me your heir... So, when I could not sleep, I liked to linger around the city. I liked knowing the people, thinking, if I were to ever govern them, I'd better know them best."
"See?" She nodded. "Always far too mature for your age. Yet the matter of succession with us has differed..." You braced yourself. "You are my eldest child, and my only girl," she spoke fondly. "And when my Father named me his heir, going against decades of tradition, I always promised myself that I would not do the same to my daughter unless I had no choice. I would never make her endure what I was forced to. Yet, you were still young when Jace was born, and your Father and I had a conversation. Should the matter come up publicly, you were always to be heir to Dragonstone, and that was the end of the matter. When Luke was born... Things shifted again, but only just. You were still my heir to our home, but now, Jace is to be my heir after I take the Throne, and then Luke is to succeed his father's birthright to Driftmark."
"And now? With Joffrey?"
"Much will be discussed later," she promised. "But I have declared to the King that you are to inherit our home on Dragonstone, and there is no change in that. He approved, but..."
"But what?"
"He also approved of your hand being offered," she swallowed thickly.
"You would tell me in truth what has happened?" You nodded, holding onto her waist to keep yourselves anchored. She nodded, sighing deeply before starting her tale.
And yet, Dear Reader, to fully understand, we need to go back.
Your hand was held tightly in your father's ever since he received news of his beloved sister, Laena Velaryon, passing away due to complications from childbirth. In an effort to avoid being sliced open and bleeding out to death, Laena had risen from her bloody birthing bed, and hobbled outside to beg her dragon, Vhagar, to let her meet her end through dragon fire.
Neither your Mother, nor Father, the Lord Laenor, knew you had snuck into the study and read the scroll sent to them by your Great Uncle Daemon - who gave an honest recount of events.
Now, he and his two twin daughters, your cousins, Rhaena and Baela, were flying from across the Narrow Sea to lay the charred bones of Laena to rest on her ancestral home. And because Laena was a Velaryon before she took the name Targaryen, she was to be launched into the sea by means of an intricately carved coffin.
She'd rest with other Velaryon's at the bottom of the raging waters.
Laenor stood stoically as his Uncle Vaemond spoke in High Valyrian, proceeding over the funeral service as your entire family - both Velaryon and Targaryen - had gathered to pay their respects. Laena's coffin, which was carved to encapsulate her ethereal beauty, was set to a launching-cliff, and ropes were thread around to push and plunge her into the crashing waves beneath.
However, as Vaemond spoke clearly above them all, he was offering dirty, hardened looks to your Mother as she held your younger brothers around the shoulders. For a moment, you thought it looked as if they were shielding their mother, and you, who had inherited the Velaryon-Targaryen trademark features, stood between them and your father; creating a visual divide, unknowingly.
But you didn't think that way.
Your only concern right now was being there for your sweet, honorable Father, as he grieved silently with tears sliding down his cheeks. His hand was tight, and you knew he drew strength from your presence.
Daemon stood across the way, somewhat beside Vaemond, and could observe those around him as he stood with his hands crossed in front of him. Vaemond's words were veiled with threat, head turning to stare directly at your mother, "Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours runs true." King Viserys even recognized the tone; sparing a look to his daughter, who pulled her sons closer. "And ours must never run thin."
And then, oddly, Daemon started to chuckle.
Oh, one could chalk it up to hysteria of a grieving husband, but you knew better. You were a sponge in the courts and listened to everything said; forming your own opinions and often needing to sort through what you'd heard to form something of a mixed-truth.
You knew of the rumors surrounding your Great Uncle and his niece, your Mother, Rhaenyra... And this moment, where he literally giggled to himself, was in an effort to get the attention off of your Mother - and shift those beady eyes who offered her judgement onto himself.
You knew half-truths, mostly content to observe and just listen. It served you well enough - now, a perfect moment to see through Daemon's hysteria. He was offered nothing but silent, dirty glares - most of which came from your grandparents, the Lord Corlys Velaryon and Princess Rhaenys Targaryen; who stood, comforting Daemon's children while still grieving their own lost daughter.
Two young girls who had lost their mother and were watching her about to be laid to rest... And their Father laughs?
While Velaryon blood ran thick with salt, Targaryen blood was hot with fire - and the devastating need to protect one another. In those moments, Daemon felt the burning, pressing need to protect Rhaenyra over comforting his own daughters - something you'd come to grow used to.
The ropes were tightened, and your Father's arm wrapped around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug; something you returned with tight arms. He needed you, and you were there for him.
Salt was thrown over the coffin as it was edged over the cliff and Vaemond gave the final words of service. Just before Laena was plunged over the edge, he spoke, "From the sea we came. To the sea, we shall return."
The day had passed sluggishly and after a meal, you found yourself still with your father - but watching him sadly wade in the waters lapping at the rocky shoreline of the island. Dragons flew above you all, and once or twice, you saw your great emerald beast circling the island; playfully soaring around other (smaller) dragons.
"Daddy?" You called from the shoreline, feeling your nerves spike the longer you stood there. The sun was moving into position to sink and knew the hours grew later. "Daddy? Maybe we should go in now? 'S getting a bit cold - the waters are freezing! Daddy! Come in, please!"
He did not respond, he just stood there; waist-deep in the tide with you watching on the shoreline. Your fingers twisted together in nervousness, feet shifting in the weighty sand.
"Father! Please, come inside with me?" You tried again, but to no avail. He had waded out there after the funeral's dinner, and while everyone gathered on the stone courtyard for drinks and mingling, your father had fancied a walk. For an hour now, he's been standing in the water.
Your head looked up towards where you knew the courtyard was, and caught sight of your grandsire glaring down at your father. He frowned when he caught your eye, then nodded, waving for you to come up. You nodded in return, looking to your father once more.
"Daddy, I have to go in, it's getting late," you tried. "I do not wish to leave you, come with me, please."
"Go on, my sweet darling," Laenor finally croaked - but did not turn.
You sighed with defeat and turned for the archway, hustling up the stone stairs, and just as you reached the top, Ser Qarl was rushing towards you. "Princess," he muttered with a nod, making you smile.
"He will not come in, even for me," you spoke softly, "good luck. Might have to force him out."
"Of course, thank you, Princess," He nodded and darted past you, letting you enter the courtyard finally. There were respectful nods from those who attended the funeral; most offering words of condolences before you caught the eye of the King.
Approaching the two men, you bowed with respect and laid a hand to your Uncle Daemon's arm. "I mean no intrusion, Your Grace, my Prince," you nodded to them both, "and apologize for the interruption I pose, I only mean to extend my condolences to you, Uncle. How sorry I am for your Lady wife, and for this loss you feel."
He nodded, letting his free hand pat over your own. "Thank you, my gentle niece."
"My Prince," you nodded, "Your Grace."
As you took your leave, you heard Viserys offering Daemon to return to King's Landing - to court, or other. You did not hear the rest, finding your mother in the crowd and making a beeline for her through a slew of distant family and members of court offering their words of sorrow.
"Sweet girl," she sighed when she embraced you. "Are you all right? Where is your Father?"
"I could not get him to come in with me," you admitted with shame. "He prefers to stand in the waters, I think it makes him feel close to Laena... Like they're both together again, if only in the tide."
She sighed, petting over your head, "You shoulder too much of your Father's grief, my sweet girl."
"It is never more than I can handle, Mother," you assured. "My skin has grown thick and there is little else to be whispered that can faze me now. My Father needs me, and I am happy to fulfill that duty."
Truth was, once upon a time when you lived in King's Landing, your older cousin, Aegon, started to publicly tease you for being a "Daddy's Girl," and let that come churn-up negative connotations. Rumors grew and festered because of your complexion, where your skin was shades lighter than Laenor's and had bright white hair - while your brothers were pasty-skinned with dark hair.
Aegon liked to tease you for your close relationship and others joined in, thinking it got under your skin. Thinking it was something to laugh about when your Father started to train you beyond what others thought "acceptable". He was your biggest supporter, and helped you push yourself to new limits with horse riding, sword fighting, archery, even just a bit of spear throwing. Laenor and Coryls even once took you on an adventure at sea, where you learned the 'ropes' of sailing and how to fish "properly". You never let the snide comments and vile words taint your view of your "Daddy" because you knew the truth.
Plus, you could just say to Aegon, "You wouldn't know a Father's love even if it slapped you in the face." That shut him up every time.
Rhaenyra smiled at you and gently caressed your cheek, but movement behind your shoulder caught her attention. When you turned to stand at her side with her arm around your waist, you noticed your Uncle Daemon surging past everyone - but stopped when Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, who had a public distaste for the Rogue Prince, stopped him to mutter something. You imagine it was condolences, but you were too far to hear it.
When Daemon managed some comment and then escaped down stone stairs, you mother looked around cautiously. "Mother," you warned through the corner of your mouth. "I would not, now is not the time."
"Hush now, my girl, come with me," she sighed, taking your hand, and leading you towards your brothers. When you reached them, she stooped to speak to them, "Your sister is in charge, do as she says, but I want you all to go to bed."
"But, Mother - "
She cut Jace off, "Go to bed."
With a meaningful look to you, you understood and gave her a reassuring nod with a squeeze to her hand; often thinking your minds were connected by some string - making nonverbal communication essential between you. You often found that was what you searched for in a person, first. How their body spoke, despite the words their mouths form.
"Come on, let's say goodnight," you coaxed your brothers, turning to your grandmother and cousins first. You knelt before them, offering, "My sweet cousins, I cannot say how sorry I truly am for this loss. But should you need it, I am here for whatever you need."
"Thank you, cousin," Rhaena whispered, leaning forward to hug you.
"I'm only a few doors down," you whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. You bid Baela a goodnight as well, letting your brothers step up as you helped your grandmother to her feet. She smiled at you and pet over a lock of hair. "We're going to bed, Grandmother, I will see you in the morning, yes?"
She nodded, sparing a glance to the kids before taking you a few steps from them. She sighed, "How's Laenor?"
You frowned, "He would not come in from the sea, Grandmother. Not even for me..."
"He always had a soft spot for you," she sighed, "surely, if you can't get him in, he'll have to be moved."
You nodded, "I did try."
"You did incredible," she praised, taking both cheeks in hand. "I have heard nothing but songs of how you have been the support your father needs. Thank you for being there."
"It is the least I can do after all he's done for me," you whispered. "I only wish I could take his pain. It is a weight that I fear he is buckling under slowly."
Rhaenys sighed and nodded. "I fear for it, too, my sweet. All right, well," she sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "You get some sleep, some well-deserved rest. You've had a day."
"We all have," you whispered, taking her hands in yours, "and Grandmother? I-I want to tell you that I am sorry for you loss. No parent should ever have to bury their child."
She sighed and nodded, squeezing your hands. "You have always been the sweetest girl - and I am so proud to be your Grandmother. I love you, thank you for your words."
Your eyes shut and let her lean in to kiss your forehead. "I love you, too," you promised, smiling at her when your eyes opened to her softened gaze. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," she nodded, letting go of you so you could take your little brothers under your arms.
"Grandfather," you spoke to Corlys as you approached. "I hate to interrupt, but we are off to bed and wish to say goodnight."
He gave you all a smile and gentle hugs, speaking softly, "Goodnight, my dears. I'll see you in the morning." Finding no other family members that you cared enough to speak to, you lead your brothers into the Driftmark castle.
You nodded to those you passed, easily navigating the boys to their rooms and did not leave until they were changed and in bed properly.
"Sister?" Luke whimpered.
"Yes, my sweet?" You paused to turn back to him, single candle in your hand and one on his bedside table.
"I-Is Ser Harwin truly gone?"
You sighed, pausing to sit on his bed and pet some hair off his forehead. "I'm afraid so, sweet boy. But Mother speaks true, the Strongs are not our kin and we are needed here. But that does not mean you cannot mourn him, Luke. He was a gallant knight and truly felt part of our family - though he was not our blood."
He nodded, "Could we say prayers for him?"
"Of course," you agreed. "I'll say one for him tonight, too, all right?"
"Thank you," he whispered, letting you lean in to peck his forehead.
"I love you," you promised, letting a finger push the button of his nose.
"I love you, too," he nodded, snuggling into the blankets. "Good night."
"Good night, sweet boy," You whispered, blowing out his bedside candle and parting ways with your own single candle in a holder. You shut their door and moved for your own room, but just before you could prepare yourself for bed, you heard a strangled roar from your opened windows.
It could've been any dragon, but something felt familiar about this sound.
Something felt wrong and you were quick to change into a pair of trousers, a tunic, and boots; rushing off from your room with the intention of checking on your dear, sweet Kasta. She wasn't by any means the largest around but she showed no sign to stop growing - making her rival a few older dragons already. You worried she was being challenged, and easily snuck from the castle walls.
However, you gasped when you rounded a cliffside and almost ran straight into someone.
"You!"
"Aemond! Gods!" You hissed, glancing around and pushing him towards a small alcove of the cliffs in case of any patrolling guards. "What're you doing out at this hour? You should be in bed!"
"What're you doing out? You should be in bed, too," He retorted quickly.
You narrowed your eyes, "I have reason - "
"Maybe I do, too."
You hummed, eyeing him a moment. "What if we agreed to go about our business - never seeing each other, hey?"
He considered it before nodding. "Deal. I didn't see you, you didn't see me."
"Exactly," you chuckled to your 'uncle', though you were 18 months older than him. It was strange, indeed. "Whatever you're doing, just be careful, Aemond."
He nodded, "Yeah. You, too, Y/N."
You both snuck away in opposite directions - where you made for the mouth of the Dragon Pit, and Aemond, in the direction of open sand dunes. You were curious and considered following him, but you were distracted by wanting to check on Kasta more.
After sneaking beneath the Pit, you could not locate your great beast and didn't know if you felt relief or not. So, you spent the better part of an hour searching for the emerald green beast, sighing with relief when she was located at last. Only after you had to scale a fucking cliff, but she was worth it.
"Kasta," you panted in High Valyrian upon approach, the lazy dragon lifting her head from the sandy nest she'd made. "What're you doing, my girl? Hey?" You chuckled lightly, hearing her whine lowly. You sat at her head, giving it a loving stroke. "It is warm in there?" She lipped at your hands, making you wonder, "You okay? I heard something and worried it was you - that you might've been in trouble?"
She growled lightly, lifting her head in interest when the distinct beating of wings was heard - along with a voice shouting in exhilaration. You lifted your head to spy Vhagar circling the island, curiosity peaking; but also assuring you that it was not your dragon that you heard before.
"I thought Vhagar had no rider?" You questioned Kasta, but the dragon lifted her head to stare into your eyes - giving a knowing look. "I see," you whispered.
There was a shuddering quake to the ground, and you knew somewhere nearby, a dragon landed. When your own dragon gave a soft snarl, you felt something on the back of your neck stand on end. She left her head fall back down as you stood.
Unknown to you, your siblings and cousins had searched for you in your rooms before deciding to confront Vhagar's newest rider by themselves. Yet, unknown to them, you were expertly scaling down the cliffside to rush for the Dragon Pit.
Yet, you were still too late.
Aemond had Luke by the throat - all the kids bloodied and bruised to some capacity - and with a large, jagged rock in a raised hand above his head, Aemond was threatening, "You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards!"
"Aemond! NO!" You raged, rushing to the scene out of pure panic from seeing your younger siblings, cousins, and uncle all bearing marks of a fight.
"My father's still alive!" Luke struggled in Aemond's grip, sobbing.
"So, he doesn't know, does he, Lord Strong?" Aemond snipped at Jace with a sneer, and to your shock, Jace then brandished a dagger.
"NO!" You finally made it to them; first yanking the two girls further back for safety, but it left time for your brothers to attack. "JACE!" You screamed with Baela, trying to keep them back as the boys were so intertwined in a fight, you could not intercede them. And with a dagger in play, you did not risk being an accidental casualty.
Aemond had thrown back Luke and wacked Jace in the head with the rock - knocking both to the floor in whimpering pain.
"All right, that's enough, hey, hey, no more - no fucking more," you stepped in, hands held in peace. "No, you've all made your points - Aemond, please," you begged when your uncle rose the rock above his hand again, smirking in taunt, with the intention of bashing Jace's head in. "Aemond - think for a moment, do not do this," you tried to reach for him, but it was too late. Jace threw a handful of sand to Aemond's face, blinding him a moment, and leaving time for Luke to pick up the forgotten dagger. "NO, LUKE, DON'T!"
But it was far too late.
Luke swung his brother's dagger upward and sliced through Aemond's face - both boys screaming. One in exhilaration and the other in unfiltered pain.
"NO!" You screamed again, reaching Luke first and making him drop the dagger by wrangling his wrist in your hand; your adrenaline pumping so harshly that you didn't realize when the blade sliced through the skin of your palm. You turned quickly, only vaguely hearing the Knight's Guards arriving. "Aemond, Aemond," you begged, taking hold of the moaning and groaning Prince. "Oh, let me see, let me see, c'mon, lad, 's all right, let me have a look," you hushed, huddling over him for privacy and coaxing his hand away. "Gods be good," you hissed, snapping his hand back in place and using your own to add pressure. Both of your hands bloodied within seconds. "Hold pressure, hold the pressure," you told him softly, looking up to see the White Cloaks. "L-Lord Commander, the Prince Aemond needs a Maester at once."
"Let me see," he knelt.
"No, no, it needs pressure for the bleeding," you told him, keeping firm hold on your distant uncle. "Come, help me get him to his feet."
"What happened?" He demanded, doing as you bid.
"I do not know, I arrived too late," You covered, helping Aemond but turning to walk at his back to keep hold over his hand, over the sliced eye he was basically holding in socket.
It was pure chaos from then on, and once you were all gathered in the throne room, the Maester took over.
"Y/N!? Aemond!? Oh, my Gods! What has happened!?" Alicent demanded as she rushed into the room; Viserys limping with his cane in hand not far behind her.
"In a moment, Your Grace," you pleaded, the boy sitting with your hands still holding in injury.
"I need to see the wound, Princess," the Maester frowned.
"All right," you agreed with him, and then looked to your uncle. "Easy, easy, easy, it's gonna gush a little," you whispered, your bloodied hand peeling Aemond's with your own to give sight to the full injury.
You could've thrown up from the sight, but only stepped away as more members of court arrived on scene and the Maester was swooping in.
Turning to Alicent, you explained, "In truth, Your Grace, I do not know much - other than the boy has been maimed. I read it's important to hold pressure to injury before a professional can take over, so, I only helped the Prince do that," you showed your bloodied hands.
"Dear girl," Viserys took your one hand, "you're bleeding on your own, I can see the cut."
"Oh, i-it's just a small cut, Your Grace," you nodded swiftly.
"How did you come by it?" Viserys demanded. His voice then lowered as he bowed his head to tell you privately, "You alone have always told your Grandfather the truth, do not let that change now."
You gulped but held your head up to tell him quietly, his withered hand still holding your wrist, "When I disarmed Lucerys, Your Grace."
"Why were you not in bed?" Alicent asked.
"In truth, I heard a dragon roar, and it sounded so familiar, I worried it was my dragon, Kasta. She's larger than some and still grows, I worried she was being challenged and then feared she was hurt. I was only out of bed, Your Grace, to check on Kasta, I swear it."
Viserys' eyes flashed to gaze heatedly over the others gathered from after the fight - but otherwise, just sighed. He nodded at you, "You're not at fault for worrying. Go on. Clean your hands, dear girl, let someone bind them."
"Thank you, Your Grace," you whispered, nodding with a small smile, "Grandfather."
He smiled briefly in return and patted your shoulder as you turned with dismissal, a handmaiden stepping up to help you wash your hands of blood in a basin and then examine the 'wound'. "It is shallow, Princess," she informed with a nod of her head. "It will heal, but I will bind it to help protect it. Perhaps avoid a sword in this time."
You smiled mutely and nodded, letting her work as the room was stewing in anger and tension as more and more members of the court showed up.
You waited patiently for your mother, letting your anxiety fester to new heights as you began to understand, as the eldest present to the scuffle, you'd be expected to recount events. But you didn't know all of the situation, only what the children had tried to tell you in a jumbled rush on your way there. But they didn't get far as the guards couldn't stand their squabbling, telling them to silence themselves until the King asked for explanation.
As the Maester worked, Viserys was demanding answers of the Lord Commander Westerling, and his Guards; who were not watching the Princes, and therefore, assumed fault for letting everything get to this point. By extension, as second in command with the Queen's Guard, Ser Criston Cole stood under interrogation, as well.
And the King was beyond angry; making you gently flinch when his voice turned hateful towards his guards.
Your hands were wrapped, and you moved along the edge of the crowd to then take a seat on the stone stairs that lead to the throne room to take a moment and think about what you witnessed. You needed time to absorb it all, to just think; to digest.
From beside the light of the hearth, Alicent, watching the Maester work on stitching Aemond's wound closed, asked, "It will heal, will it not, Maester?"
He paused a moment, the room turning towards the Maester and Prince for the answer; and your head lifted to listen. Your brothers stood beside one another without any cleaning to their wounds - simply because they were still on trial for this entire ordeal.
The Maester answered, "The flesh will heal, I'd wager because the Princess Y/N acted quickly to hold pressure." Eyes turned to you as you felt tears of embarrassment and anxiety fill your eyes, bowing your head to avoid their gazes. "But the eye is lost, Your Grace."
Both of Aemond's parents looked genuinely distraught as you finally stood to near your brothers; taking each of them under your arms. They noted the bandages on your hand, but did not get to comment as the Queen was rounding on her eldest son, Aegon, to demand, "Where were you?"
"Me?" Aegon asked, gasping when his mother's hand clapped against his cheek to whip his head to the side. "Ow!" He yelped, "What was that for?"
"That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!" Alicent hissed, teeth bared; her anger tangible.
The doors above you clanged open, and Corlys charged through them, demanding, "What is the meaning of this!?"
"Baela? Rhaena!" Rhaenys gasped, following her husband down the stairs. "What happened? What happened?" She asked, taking the girls instantly into her arms.
Corlys looked around with a fierce gaze, standing before you lot as you tightened your hold on the boys. Not a moment later, your mother was finally opening the doors - looking spooked by the news she received. "Jace?" She looked around - and when she located you three, she was shouting, "Luke!"
You stepped back to let your mother kneel before the boys; and felt a hand smooth around your shoulders. Looking up, Corlys brought you into his side for a tight hug. Your bandaged hand laid on his stomach, making him take it up and examine it with a tight jaw.
"Show me, show me," your mother rushed to your little brother, pulling Luke's hands from his face and revealing his own injury. "Who did this?"
"They attacked me!" Aemond shouted from his seat.
"He attacked Baela!" Jace shouted back.
"He broke Luke's nose!" Baela shouted, and then, the over-lapping voices were too great and many to make out. Yet, bits and parts met your ears as Uncle Daemon arrived on scene, and chose to lean on the door with crossed arms instead of rush for his injured daughters. You did not speak, Corlys and you stood silently and listened.
"He stole my mother's dragon!"
"Enough," Viserys demanded, but the children still shrilly argued.
"He was going to kill Jace!"
"I didn't do anything!"
"Enough!" Viserys tried again.
"It should be my son telling the tale!" Alicent joined the efforts.
"He called us - "
But Viserys roared over everyone, cutting Jace off, "SILENCE!"
The room echoed with the aftermath of ringing voices; everyone shying into themselves, and making your father's father tighten his hold around your shoulders. Behind you, your brother whispered to your mother, "He called us bastards."
Rhaenyra stood in thought and kept the bloody boys behind her, sharing a small look with you as her eyes skated over your bandage. But nothing could be said as her hands came to wring together as Viserys called, "Aemond..." His cane struck the stone with each step he took, "I will have the truth of what happened... Now."
"What else is there to hear?" Alicent interjected. "Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible."
"It was a regrettable accident," Rhaenyra swiftly defended - but even she sounded shaken.
"Accident," Alicent repeated, Corlys pulling you back a step to let your mother be seen. "The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to an ambush. He meant to kill my son."
You wanted to correct her that it was Jace's dagger and Luke only picked it up when her son meant to bash in Jace's head - but now wasn't the time, because your mother was snarling in defense, "It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves." You nodded in agreement, and Viserys saw the motion. "Vile insults were levied against them."
"What insults?" Viserys questioned.
It was silent before Rhaenyra responded, "The legitimacy of my sons' birth was put loudly to question."
"What?" The King asked.
"He called us bastards," Jace spoke up, making the room go still. This was the confrontation everyone was waiting on...
"Y/N?" Viserys asked, making you tense up.
"What?" Rhaenyra turned to you. "You were involved?"
"I only arrived at the end," you shook your head. "I do not know what was said or done in full," you begged to the King to understand through your words, and it seemed, your other Grandfather did by how he shifted slightly in front of you. "Though, yes, the word 'bastard' was hurled as insult, Your Grace..."
"My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace," your mother swept back in, making you shudder a breath. "This is the highest of treasons..." Her words settled over everyone. "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders."
Aemond had turned in his seat to glare at your mother, his older sister; making the King look down at him. But it was the Queen who asked the Princess, "Over an insult? My son has lost an eye - possibly his life, should your daughter not of been there!"
Viserys looked again to Aemond, asking, "You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?"
"The insult was training yard bluster," Alicent tried to save. "The lot of boys. It was nothing."
"Aemond..." Viserys prodded. "I asked you a question."
To save her son from answering, Alicent asked, "Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys' father? Perhaps he might have something to say in the matter."
"Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?" Viserys agreed, eyes looking to your mother.
"I do not know, Your Grace. I... Could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk," You mother answered.
"Entertaining his younger squires, I would venture," the Queen snipped, making some in the court smirk and snicker as the insult registered.
"I beg your pardon, Your Grace," you pushed away from Corlys to face Alicent and the King, but your gaze was set on the redheaded woman, "because I understand you are distraught from your son's injury, but do not mistake that for giving you leave to openly insult my father, or add fuel to such allegations. This is not the training yard, Your Grace, leaving no room for bluster. Mind your manners."
"Come here, girl, and hush yourself," Corlys sighed, pulling you back to his side. He sighed as Viserys chose to ignore your comment, which made the Queen stiffen her spine and avoid your heated gaze.
"Aemond... Look at me," Viserys directed to his son, making the One-Eyed Prince meet his father's angered, hardened eyes. "Your King demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?"
You didn't see the Prince's eyes cut over to his mother, but saw the King straighten his spine to look at his wife - and knew.
It was as if a collective breath was held as the King was then told by his son, "It was Aegon."
"Me?" Aegon repeated quietly, looking truly shell-shocked to be thrown into the mix. You sighed gently.
The King now turned his sights on his eldest son, growling, "And you, boy?" He stalked up to the taller kid. "Where did you hear such calumnies?" But when his son did not answer, nor meet his gaze, the King shouted, "Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!"
With a tremble to his tone, Aegon spoke, "We know, Father." He met his father's gaze, "Everyone knows... Just look at them," his lip curled, "and then look at her. She is true-born, that cannot be disputed."
Your chin lifted as your glare turned deadly, daring anyone to say more as the King was silently surveying the room. But he chose not to pursue this further, and snapped, "This interminable infighting must cease!" His cane punctuated his words. "All of you! We are family!" He only glanced at Aemond, perhaps finding the injury too gnarly to look at longer; turning his gaze to the room again. "Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it!"
But nobody spoke as the King's words did not feel truly fair. Perhaps, the others were going to wait for him to leave to 'handle' this situation, but before he could, Alicent was speaking, "That is insufficient." The King turned to hear her words. "Aemond has been damaged, permanently, my King. 'Good will' cannot make him whole."
"I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye."
"No, because it's been taken!" Alicent refused her husband's words.
"What would you have me do?" Viserys growled.
"There is a debt to be paid," she decided, and the room went still. "I shall have one of her son's eyes in return."
Heads turned to look at your mother and brothers, and you broke away to then stand at your mother's side and kept Lucerys behind you. The crowd muttered with discomfort as the King approached the Queen, "My dear wife..."
"He is your son, Viserys," She begged through her tears. "Your blood."
"Do not," Viserys warned, "allow your temper to guide your judgement."
That was supposed to be that, but chaos still rained. She spoke defiantly, "If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston... Bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon."
"Mother!" Luke gasped, and she kept him back and between you.
"Alicent," Viserys tried.
"He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son," Alicent sneered.
"You will do not such thing," Rhaenyra defended and your hands tightened on your brother.
"Stay your hand," Viserys demanded.
"No, you are sworn to me!" Alicent refused with a shout, making it known she was desperate for action. And eyes turned for Cole, knowing he was nothing better than her leashed dog.
"As your Protector, my Queen," Cole refused - a smart decision.
"Alicent, this matter... Is finished," The King leered fiercely. "Do you understand?" It was quiet as the woman did not respond, everyone watching as Viserys turned from the room; but paused to address, "And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra's sons," he then directed at Alicent, sneering, "should have it removed."
"Thank you, Father," Your mother spoke softly from her place, something making the hair on your neck stand on end. You did not turn as your mother did, lowering herself to speak to her sons - you watched the Queen.
And thankfully, you did.
You watched her stride for Viserys and yank a dagger from his belt and turn. "Mother!" You gasped, stepping in front of her protectively as the Queen charged.
"Alicent!" Viserys screamed.
"Stay with the King!" Westerling demanded of Cole as he followed Alicent. "HOLD YOUR APPROACH!"
"My girl!" Rhaenyra pushed you out of the way in time to step forward and take hold of either of Alicent's wrists. It was chaos as they engaged; everyone trying to space out and move from the way as the King's Guards were tangled amongst each other.
Luke screamed shrilly in fear as your mother took on Alicent. You wanted to turn for the boys and huddle them close, but Corlys was back at your side, and together, you both stood as pillars in front of them while Princess and Queen struggled against one another.
"Stay your hand, Cole!" Westerling demanded of the disobedient knight; making Daemon push off his post to intercept the man.
"You've gone too far!" Your mother struggled with Alicent.
"I?" The Queen repeated breathlessly. "What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, the law! While you flout all to do as you please!"
"Alicent! Let her go!" Viserys demanded.
"Mother!" You worried, wondering if you should step in. Would you be reprimanded for cutting down the Queen? You eyed the sword at your Grandsire's hip - leaving it open for you to take.
Yet, you dare not.
"Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Alicent spoke tearfully still. "It's trampled under your pretty foot, again!"
"Release the blade, Alicent!" Otto, the Queen's father, called from the end of the hall.
"And now you take my son's eye," she told your mother, "and to even that, you feel entitled."
"Exhausting, wasn't it?" Your mother countered. "Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness." She whispered, "But now they see you as you are."
Alicent shouted in anger; the women pushing away from each other and blade sliced through flesh. Corlys and you both caught your mother when she was flung back, but the sounds of trickling blood pattering onto the floor drew your attention.
"Mum," you worried when her wrist was sliced open to let blood drip freely down her hand, through her fingers; pooling to the stone floor beneath you. "Gods," you whispered, looking up in shock, muttering for those who did not see, "you cut her."
"Darling," your mother hushed, but you were grabbing at her wrist to try to hold pressure - like you were trained to do.
It was silent besides that as everyone waited for the next move to be made. Nobody did until Prince Aemond stepped into the circle; earning the attention of those lingering.
"Do not mourn me, Mother," the Prince spoke softly, looking at Alicent. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye... But I gained a dragon."
Vhagar had a new rider.
"This proceeding is at an end," Viserys decided, giving everyone a stern look. Cole wrangled free and Daemon stalked forward to crowd you closer to your mother; Luke coming up to hold your waist as you were holding the wound as tight as possible.
Aemond moved to hug his mother in comfort, something you were doing in your own way. Jace took the rear, and stood with Daemon and Corlys, giving Alicent a first look at the family that would bring ruin to her own. But your mother, too, got a good look at the family who would bring your own doom.
"Could we please see to this?" You asked, nodding at the blood that seeped, again, from between your fingers.
"Yes," Rhaenyra agreed. "Perhaps in our rooms."
"Let's go," you pleaded, offering the Hightower Queen one more glare before turning with your mother to keep the pressure on her wound.
"I sought an audience early this morning," your mother explained softly, "before the King and Queen were to depart for King's Landing. And I know it is feeling unfair, my girl, and I do not want to see you go, but the tension can not fester beyond this. Vengeance is a powerful weapon, and I would not see my family harmed for something as petty as this. My hope is that with Viserys around, they will warm up to you, and you will be safe."
"So, after you sent Jace, Luke, and I away this morning, you and Father discussed, what? Selling me off?"
"I know it hurts," she relented, but you sighed.
"No, no, I am only being jealous."
"Of what, sweet girl?"
"Perhaps of not having a cock of my own, so that I might have some say in these matters. Or maybe I am merely jealous of the idea of leaving you while the boys stay. Yet, at least, I will have some time with you yet before I am to marry - not many Ladies can say they have that luxury."
She took a sobering breath, "I knew you'd understand. But for all it can be worth, I am sorry."
You nodded, sighing, "For our family's honor, and for Luke's full vision, I will marry Prince Aemond when the time comes..."
"My girl," she breathed with relief, bringing you in for a bone-crushing hug. After a moment, she pulled back to sniffle; and just over your heads, three of the royal dragons took flight - with Vhagar swooping low to the waters before following the King's ship.
You both paused to stare after them.
"Do you trust them, Mother?"
Rhaenyra sighed, "I trust my father, but the Hightower claws are dug deep." You both breathed for a moment. "You will be a single spot of Targaryen Black in a sea of Hightower Green, my love. Our House words must not be forgotten..."
Your chin lifted, knowing in heart, you would always be a Targaryen Dragon more than a Velaryon Sea Horse - telling her gently, "Fire and Blood..."
"When the time comes," Rhaenyra sighed, "I can only pray I leave you with dragon scales instead of skin - so that their green flames do not burn you, my sweet girl."
You smirked gently at her, "Mother, fire - whether Green or not, cannot kill a dragon. Though I know I've salt in my veins, too, it is the blood of Old Valyria, and fire will be my ally."
Rhaenyra sighed and turned to pull you in closer with a kiss to your head. "I know it is sudden news, but we still have years with each other. Much will change, but I will never leave you feeling unprepared." Movement, again, caught her eye over your shoulder; making her sniffle and sober up. "Go on, go now. Find your brothers for me, please."
You agreed, and after a kiss to her cheek, left her be; passing your silent Great Uncle Daemon along the way with only a head nod of acknowledgement.
Time on Dragonstone was never the same. Days after laying your Aunt Laena to rest, you lost your own father, Lord Laenor, to a petty quarrel he had with his lover, Qarl. The lad was never found, apparently somewhere lost to the Stepstones, but the anger never dissipated. Your mother had welcomed the Knight into the family, and he turned blade on your father?
In Laenor's father's hall?
The devastating blow was hardest on you, who could not grieve far enough. You internalized a lot of it, but your brother's tried to help you shoulder it all - yet this was a path you walked alone. Seemingly only days after that, on your ancestral home, your mother then married her Uncle Daemon, and your cousins Baela and Rhaena were now your step-sisters.
They lived with you all on Dragonstone and your mother took your education very seriously. Professors came into port to be guests of the castle, dedicating hours upon hours a day to tutor you in a broad arrangement of subjects.
History, philosophy, reading, philanthropy, writing, specialized tutors to broaden your Valyrian, a whole class on just diction - forcing you to learn new words; first-aid training, and even drawing.
Your step-father also took up your training after your beloved father had passed. Daemon recommended you work your anger and grief out through the training yard, and you took that advice to heart. He posed as a challenger in damn-near everything, and by the Gods, you tried not to feel competitive, but it sharpened your wit and instincts. Daemon knew what he was doing, and yet, never showed an ounce of 'loving warmth', only stoic respect.
Your mother taught you what she could about being both Lady and wife - taking meals privately with you to go into more expressive details. Questions you had, she answered; and as you grew older, you wondered deeper - and she often answered with red, flushed cheeks. Yet your mother kept her promise and would not let you go off to King's Landing unprepared.
You read books. Wrote letters, kept journals. Learned from experience, learned from reading; did what you could to understand as much as possible, never quenching your thirst for knowledge.
Perhaps, subconsciously, you wondered if this would create more distance between now and your marriage - but your 18th nameday was creeping up, and you were out of options.
Three months before, your summons arrived.
Your mother tried to deliver the news softly, but tears broke her waterline; and you understood that she meant to say goodbye. Apparently, by Queen Alicent's hand-written letter, you were to marry the Prince before the week's end, and it was already midweek.
Aemond did not wish for a big wedding, but your family insisted on something. Viserys had called upon the royal dressers, and all festivities would be covered. All you had to do was show up, and yet, it felt like that was the hardest chore. Your mother had sniffled as she pet your hair off your shoulders, nodding, "It's time, my girl."
Daemon opted not to attend the wedding and after a bit of persuasion, your mother and brothers decided to stay on Dragonstone with him. You were to travel alone because you were to hit the ground running, and you were beyond nervous.
Your mother helped pack your things - sending servants and maids away to let you two have moments of privacy. She gave you last second advice, promising that when you need it, she was always there for you. Dragonstone wasn't far by dragonback and there were always ravens to send - but she warned you about the Hightowers more than likely intercepting letters.
She advised you to write in code.
Promised she loved you.
Swore to you that marriage wasn't always all so bad; and before you knew it, you were standing with Kasta's packed saddle - facing your family for the final time.
"Well," you breathed, nodding at them all, "I wish to say that I will miss you all, and thank you for the incredible years."
"Good luck, sister," Jace nodded.
The night before, the boys had snuck into your room for the last time and let you hold them; tears of sadness weeping into their dark brown locks. You smiled at him, "Thank you, brother. I will send a raven when I am settled, and... Well, you know."
"When you're married," Luke teased, giggling lightly.
"Hush," you mother chided gently, but smiled at the boy, glancing at you. "Go hug your sister goodbye, love."
Luke frowned deeply and rushed for your waist - though, no longer being a small child, he was still a young lad; and you could wrap your arms around him tightly. You kissed the top of his head and sighed, "I'll miss you with my heart, Luke. I promise to write you, you can practice writing me back if you want."
"But, sister," he worried, pulling back only so to hush, "what if the nightmares come back?"
You smiled at him, "I left you a present on your bed. I hope that helps you through the nights. Let it be a comfort." It was a red and black stuffed dragon toy, something you prayed would comfort him in your absence.
He nodded, tears falling down his cheeks. "Do not go," he begged gently, holding your skirts.
"I'd stay if I could, but this is for the best," you assured, never having the heart to tell him that your marriage arrangement was made some years ago, and now, as you were a woman, it was time to 'pay up' to save him from being blinded. He didn't need to know the truth.
Jace pulled Luke back but instantly stepped up in his place, instead. He sighed into your neck; much taller than the last time you remembered, and letting yourself loose a few tears. "Do not let them change you, sister. Please, be safe," Jace rushed in your ear, tightening his hug.
"I will," you cried, giving him a squeeze. "Be there for Mother... She'll need you now."
"I won't disappoint you," he promised, pulling away.
"Be good," you chuckled at him, patting his shoulder as he moved back. Baela and Rhaena stepped up to hug you goodbye, having grown fond of their older 'sister' during the time you had together. You kissed their foreheads, bid them well, and again, promised you were only a raven away.
Daemon was next, and he did offer a hug (shockingly). You squeezed into his embrace, and when you pulled back, he wished, "Good luck in the city, niece. Remember the leech will feed, even when fat. My brother's blinded by..." He sighed. "Nevermind. It's not your responsibility. Just do not let him forget his family loves him."
"I'll be sure to be there for him, Uncle."
He nodded, "Then - good luck. Marriage is mostly political, so, play your part with caution in mind."
"Your advice has always been appreciated," you nodded. "And thank you - for all the lessons you gave these past years."
"What a student I had," he smirked, giving you a final nod as you moved on to your mother.
She took a long, shuddering breath. "You'll write, won't you?" Her hands reached, as they always did, to pet over the silver locks that spilled down your shoulders.
"Of course," you promised softly. "You will not be rid of me so easily."
"I should hope not," she chuckled, but held her tears at bay.
"Say it now, Mum, and I will stay," you promised in a whisper. "You need me, and I will stay - "
"No," she sighed, moving to hold your cheeks. "You are no longer responsible for me. I would not let you go if I thought it was feeding you to the wolves... Though I wish for you to stay, there is a duty to be performed, my sweet girl."
You nodded, letting a few tears fall down your cheeks. "I'll just miss you terribly. Who will I go to for advice?"
"You'll understand who to trust, but keep in mind that you might write in a journal. Let it act as if it's me, and write, my girl. Hide it away, burn it even, but do not let yourself feel so isolated."
"A Black Dragon in an Emerald Mine," you snickered softly, making her grin. "I will not disappoint you, Mother."
"You never do," she promised. "Be careful, and do not trust anyone. You're in the snake's garden now, and their bite is fierce."
You nodded, hands over hers to hold your cheeks. "I wish you'd be there."
"I do, too," she promised. "But you are my strongest girl, you will endure this with grace."
You nodded, leaning in to hug her one last time. She sniffled into your neck, but after a moment, you had to giggle, "Mum, you've got to let me go. Mumma, c'mon, now."
She groaned and released you, "All right, fine. Go on. I love you - so much. Do not forget that."
You climbed onto Kasta's mighty back; needing something of a rope ladder to get on her properly. With another wave, your family called their love and luck; hearing Kasta roar in departure before surging forward, spreading her wings, and then leaping off the cliffside. You held on tightly as she cut through the air, your family all watching as Kasta roared once more but otherwise, did not turn back.
You cried during the whole flight; truly afraid of what you were to encounter when you landed. Alicent and the Hightowers knew of your arrival, and you wondered why she insisted on such a swift wedding.
Last you knew, your fiancé had both concurred the largest dragon in the world but also lost his left eye.
Perhaps there was a rush so you could not back out. But you had honor, and if your hand in marriage is what it took to heal the rift between your families, to soothe the wound Lucerys inflicted, then so be it. There was honor in completing one's duty.
You prayed, through tears, it was enough.
[ part two ]
[ series masterlist ]
#aemond targaryen#prince aemond#aemond the kinslayer#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond hotd#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd imagine#hotd x reader
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Nine and Ten's arcs go hand in hand as a collectively great PTSD narrative imo.
I think Ten's wishy-washiness about relationships and inability to fully open up to Rose is often characterized as plain old fear of commitment yet I see that as a progression to another presentation of PTSD.
When we first meet Nine, he seems like he's halfway to planning on how to get himself killed.
He meets Rose, he heals, he changes, he grows.
Then he regenerates into someone with a desire to live and the seeming capacity to just be happy.
At the same time, he regenerated for and because of Rose.
Recovery that hinges on one person is a tricky thing.
When you're with that person it can feel like there's no more work to be done, like you're totally 'fixed'.
Every moment with that person feels like the best thing in the world... which makes it significantly harder to open up about anything trauma related.
When you're feeling high on a person's presence why would you ever want to think about the bad things?
THEN because he finally properly wants to live, The Doctor gets hit with the realization that living a full life means losing Rose in the end and it's downright intolerable to him.
It makes him push and pull and act like a bastard sometimes.
We get glimpses of who he is without her in the moments when she's threatened.
He loses his damn mind any time she's threatened- he gets that crazed look akin to Nine in Dalek more than anything. This is also in contrast to how Nine used to react to Rose being threatened, where he used to still be able to keep it reined in.
THEN... he loses her for real and he backslides majorly. We see the effects in Turn Left, that if Donna hadn't been there he would have died right after saying goodbye to Rose. He's more or less back where he started as Nine in the beginning of series one, looking for a way to die.
He lives though, and has to accept that no, he's not perfectly recovered and keep on working on it. He opens up about things in ways we saw him struggle to in series 2.
Though he's more callous in series 3 and 4, he seems to struggle more with relating to humans, his bastardous tendencies pop up more.
He's also a freaking disaster man in series 4 with the number of times he offers or tries to give up his life for others. He DOES make recovery progress through series 3 and 4, just is slow like in real life.
All of that makes JE make sense to me in that this is a man who is experiencing turbo PTSD triggering. He pushes everyone away all at once, because maybe being alone will hurt less than losing people after all.
Even after all that in the end when he is dying he says he doesn't want to go. He was born into wanting to live and be happy so of course he doesn't want to go.
#doctor who#ninth doctor#tenth doctor#rose tyler#9th doctor#10th doctor#timepetals#there's a lot more nuance to this than I had energy to write about rn#but regeneration as ptsd recovery story is so interesting to me in general#bc it literally does/can feel like you have to become a whole new person#and it's so so easy to hinge it all on one person or thing that makes life worth living#ten is a somewhat toxic mess#and i love him for it#he's a bastard who is also trying his damn best
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Valorant Agents Being Jealous
Pairing: Yoru, Sova, Phoenix, Viper, Reyna, Fade, Chamber, Skye, Jett, Harobor x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, protectiveness, jealousy, public display of affection, hickies, possessiveness
A/N: More Valorant fluff, been falling deeper into this rabbit hole lately.
Yoru is pretty much a sweetheart but he keeps up his bad boy persona a lot. He doesn't get jealous over random people but he does get a little jealous when people hover around you a lot, that's when he gets really protective. With his tough guy persona it's really easy to scare people off so there's never any need for him to get threatening.
Sova has the kind of attitude which always has him watching you like a hawk, or owl as is his name. He will gets flustered easily mind you but if he gets jealous, if he sees that there's someone hitting on you while he's made it clear that you're together his eyes will turn from shining with joy to cold as ice in a split second.
Phoenix is very openly affectionate and in general not a jealous guy. If there's someone flirting with you he'll casually walk up to you, wrap his arm around you and call you babe, a happy smile on his face all the while. He won't get angry over others flirting with you unless they're being pushy, otherwise he's just happy to show off how good the two of you are together.
Viper is someone you really don't want to make jealous. She makes it very clear when she doesn't like others staring at you. Her jealous side is something that she's trying to rein in a little because she knows that you'd never go after someone else, but at the same time she's seen how people look at you, almost like she does but with none of the love, all lust. She will stare right into the person she's jealous off while she hold you against her and whispers sweet nothings into your ear.
Reyna deals with jealousy by making the other person more jealous. She'll pull you against her, into her lap, kiss your lips, your neck, leave her lipstick all over you as a mark. She will make you squirm and make sure everyone sees it, who you're with, who you belong to. It's something she gets a real thrill out of.
Fade is extremely protective over you and that can and has mixed with jealousy at times. She thinks it's a little petty but she has used her fear powers before on people who blatantly ignored that you walked in with her and thought they could steal you from her. She doesn't resort to her powers if her presence alone can do the trick, when it can't it's time for a few nightmares.
Chamber can be one jealous man. He's not hiding it either, would never dream of it. He's very openly affectionate with you, especially around those he's jealous of. Not easy to calm down either, not when he can see the look in other people's eyes, the looks that he gives you, that only he should give you. Tries to handle things quietly and behind the scenes, he doesn't want to cause trouble in public.
Skye denies being jealous. It's very obvious when she is because that's when she gets extra protective and extra snuggly when she has you all to herself. Easily embarrassed about it as well but because of her big, imposing frame all she's ever had to do was walk up to you and let you give her a kiss and she's as happy as can be while watching whoever she's jealous of get bashful and walk away.
Jett would never let her jealousy show in public because she knows it would open her for a lot of teasing from the other Agents. Instead she handles it in private with you, letting you know that she trusts you, with her life in fact, but not the people who were so blatantly flirting with you all night. Blushes when you point out that she was the one flirting the most and the one who whisked you away in the middle of a conversation to slow dance with you. She's not as sneaky as she thought.
Harbor is more protective then he is jealous. As someone who travels a lot of course he knows you talk to a lot of people but that's why when he leaves he makes sure to leave lots of hickies on your neck that will stay for days. He does this when you're out in public sometimes as well, in his mind there's no bad time to express his love and devotion for you. It's just a bonus if someone sees and takes the hint to keep walking.
#valorant#valorant x reader#valorant fluff#yoru x reader#sova x reader#phoenix x reader#viper x reader#reyna x reader#fade x reader#chamber x reader#skye x reader#jett x reader#harbor x reader
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♡︎ 𝐂𝐖: 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬
♡︎ "__" 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞
♡︎ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
♡︎ 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
♡︎ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @missgab @sucidalbutpretty @kawaiimusiccollection @nekogeisha-blog @k-cris @dreamsygirl @fishisahappydog @mikeyaki
Ken closed the shop a little earlier than usual following his confrontation with Mikey.
It wasn’t that he was too hurt to continue working, not at all. He’d been in much worse fights in his youth, and sustained much more serious injuries.
Ken figured he’d need to message you and do some damage control. After all, he had promised that he would control himself when Mikey came over.
Locking the entrance door and flicking the brightly blinking “open” sign off, Ken shut off the lights in the showroom, did one last check to ensure everything was secure and began making his way upstairs, phone in hand.
Me:
Hey __, I’m sorry, I really tried to rein in my temper but it got the best of me. Aside from the obvious, is everything ok?
Ken’s not expecting you to answer immediately, so he moves to pocket his device, surprised when he hears the chime indicating he’s received a message before he can do so.
__ 🐥:
Yeah, everything’s fine. Honestly, I should be the one asking you if you’re alright. Manjiro didn’t hit you too hard, did he?
Ken chuckles reading your message, having momentarily paused on his way up the steps to respond.
Me:
No harder than he usually does when we get into spats. I’ll be fine. Is he still with you?
__ 🐥:
I’ve retired upstairs for the evening. I can hear him shuffling about downstairs. I also heard his phone ringing, but it stopped pretty abruptly. I wouldn’t be surprised if he left soon.
Me:
Tch, that asshole. Well, if he leaves and you need me, let me know. I’ve decided to close up shop a little early today.
__ 🐥:
Thanks Ken. Tell Seishu I said hello, and make sure you get patched up. Call you tomorrow?
Me:
Of course. Night, __.
__ 🐥:
Night night.😚
Ken can’t help the small, fond smile that curls his lips upon reading your final message. Finishing his trek up the stairs, he calls out for Seishu, watching as the man ambles quietly out of his room.
“You call-...what happened to your face?”
Shaking his head, Ken waves away Seishu’s concern.
“Mikey and I got into a little disagreement is all. You mind grabbing the first aid kit for me?”
Nodding, Seishu sets off to retrieve the kit he keeps under his bathroom sink. Once he has it, he approaches Ken, already making moves to treat and dress his split lip, bruised nose and swollen eye.
“This looks like the result of more than just a “little disagreement” to me. You wanna share what it was about?”
Ken considers doing so for a moment, but ultimately decides against it.
“I would, but it’s really not my place to share details unnecessarily. Let’s just say Mikey made a really shitty decision and I refused to cover for him.”
Seishu hums, lightly dabbing a cool, clean cloth against Ken’s lip.
“Sounds serious. I won’t pry, but if at any point you do decide to share, I’m all ears.”
A little smile lifts the corners of Ken’s lips, somewhat exacerbating the laceration there and causing Seishu to quietly fuss.
“Thanks, Seishu. Oh, and __ said hello. I talked to her a little earlier.”
Seishu’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of your name.
“How’s __ been? It’s been so long since last we spoke.”
Ken prepares to speak, then grimaces at the memory of your current situation.
“She-...she’s been better, but she’s strong. I know she’ll be alright.”
Seishu can sense the unease accompanying Ken’s words. He’s half a mind to press for details, but thinks better of it.
“Well, you let her know that I’m here if she ever wants to talk. We should still have each other’s numbers.”
Ken nods.
“Will do.”
You’re tired. And not only because of your husband’s stupidity.
Hanma was about as rough as you expected him to be, which is to say, quite.
Not that you mind of course, quite the opposite.
A pleasant sort of ache radiates through your upper and lower halves. You stretch, thighs and abdomen quivering slightly from the movement.
Laying still for a moment, you listen for Manjiro’s movements. You honestly expected him to be gone, given that you’d heard his phone ringing.
‘What is he doing?’
Your curiosity getting the better of you, you lift yourself up from the bed, quietly making the trek downstairs. Peeking around the corner, you see Manjiro maneuvering around the kitchen. He seems to be cooking, which strikes you as odd because he normally avoids tasks like that like the plague.
‘Does he really think that this is going to make up for what he’s done?’
You roll your eyes, making your way further into the kitchen.
“Manjiro.”
The man startles the most minute amount, turning to level you with a surprised stare over his right shoulder.
“Oh, __. I uh…thought I’d make us dinner.”
You have half a mind to spoil the treat and say that you and Shuji had already eaten, but Manjiro appears to be almost finished, and you’d hate to let all that food go to waste.
So, you decide you’ll entertain him for the time being.
“Ok.”
With that, you take a seat at the dining table, not paying any mind to Manjiro’s gaze, which follows you before returning to its previous place.
About 5 minutes later, Manjiro is setting a plate loaded with your favorites before you. You’re surprised to admit how good everything looks, and perhaps Manjiro can tell as well.
“Thank you.”
Manjiro shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips.
“My pleasure.”
Taking his seat, you both say a quick “itadakimasu” before digging in.
It’s mostly silent between the two of you, the only audible sound that of your utensils occasionally striking your plates. You can see from the corner of your eye that Manjiro keeps throwing glances at you, and for a second, you deliriously worry that he’s done something to the food and is waiting for a reaction.
“Is there something on my face?” Your words come out amused and slightly harsher than you intended, and Manjiro quickly averts his gaze.
“No, I just…I was just lost in thought.”
“About what?”
It takes him a few seconds to respond.
“Where we go from here.”
This gives you pause, and you slowly set your utensils down, leveling Manjiro with a critical stare.
“I think the answer is fairly obvious, Manjiro.”
His eyes widen, and you can see the most minute amount of fear begin flooding them.
“W-what do you mean, __?”
“I want a divorce.”
You could swear the temperature takes a sharp nosedive following your words. Manjiro is frozen, mouth slightly agape. He flounders for a bit for words, before shakily smiling.
“B-but __, I thought…we, I thought we were even. You slept with Hanma right? So now it’s even? Right?”
You can’t help the loud guffaw that erupts out of you, causing you to double over.
“Even, Manjiro? Really? What are you, 5? I didn’t sleep with Hanma to get “even” with you. I did it to feel good. I wanted him to help me forget, even just for a brief while, about all the shit you put me through.”
Silent tears have begun streaming down Manjiro’s face, his chin wobbling as he listens.
“No, no __ please. I don’t want a divorce, I-””
“I don’t care what you want!” You’ve never raised your voice at Manjiro before, but now you can’t help the overflow of emotions threatening to spill.
“I have spent the better portion of my entire life thus far catering to you Manjiro. I have been nothing but selfless the entire time I’ve known you, always bending over backward to make sure you were accommodated. I’ve given you everything! My body, my heart, my very soul, I gave it all away to you the moment we first exchanged I love you’s.”
Your own tears have begun falling, and you furiously wipe them away.
“But despite all that, you still found it in yourself to cheat on me. After all I’ve done for you, after how I loved you. I would’ve given you anything if only you’d asked.”
Manjiro has begun to sob, head tilted downward and shoulders shaking, fists clenched tightly on the table.
“I’m sorry __, I-I’m so sorry. I love you, I swear I do, I just…I just couldn’t-”
You don’t care to hear what excuse Manjiro is going to try and give you. With a last scrub at your still wet cheeks, you abruptly stand, pushing back your chair and carrying your mostly emptied plate over to the sink to be washed at a later time.
“Wait, __,where are you going?” There’s an edge of panic lacing Manjiro’s words, and he stands as well, partially full plate forgotten.
“Upstairs. I’ll be spending the night at Ken’s.”
You try to brush past Manjiro, but find that he’s blocking your path.
“What, so you can fuck him too?”
Your hand’s never moved so fast in your life. Manjiro’s head snaps to the side, an angry red print beginning to form on his cheek.
“Don’t equate me to you, you piece of shit. I’m not some whore that doesn’t know how to keep their legs closed, unlike someone.”
You quickly maneuver around the still man, rushing upstairs and pulling out your overnight bag. You speedily but meticulously pack everything you’ll need, even packing extra in case you decide to extend your stay.
You can hear Manjiro ascending the stairs, stopping just outside of your bedroom. You can see him watching you out of your periphery, dark eyes made darker with some emotion that you can’t quite place.
Ignoring him for the moment, you finish your preparations, making your way to the door and finding that Manjiro is blocking your path once again. You roll your eyes, exasperated.
“Move, Manjiro.”
“No __, you are not leaving me.”
He finally makes eye contact with you, and his expression sends a chill down your spine.
Manjiro’s eyes are empty, lacking any light or emotion. They stare through you, leaving you feeling uncomfortably exposed.
You can see the slightest clench of his jaw, and his breathing, though quiet, is audible.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m staying cooped up in this house with a monster like you. Now move. I won’t ask again.”
Prepared to strong arm your way past him, you soon find the wind knocked out of you and your picture of the world flipped as Manjiro tackles you back onto your bed.
“L-let me go! Manjiro!”
“I said, you are not leaving me!”
Manjiro appears deranged- eyes wide, brows furrowed and teeth clenched. The two of you wrestle, but Manjiro is, of course, leagues stronger than you are.
“You belong to me __. You’re mine. Not Hanma’s, not Kenny’s, not Izana’s, you belong solely to ME.”
Leaning down, Manjiro forcefully covers your lips with his own, trying and failing to snake his tongue into your mouth.
Pulling back, he growls beneath his breath, before speaking once more.
“You’re the crazy one for thinking I was ever going to let you go.”
Dipping back down, he tightens a hand around your throat, causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, engaging you in a sloppy, one-sided kiss.
Fearing that things will escalate, you do the only thing you can think to in the moment.
Biting down with all the force you’re able to muster, you feel more than hear Manjiro’s muffled scream. When he begins pulling away, you rear back, proceeding to headbutt him.
Now, groaning and clutching his face, he’s retracted from you fully, and without taking another moment to consider it, you grab your bag and bolt out of the room and downstairs, quickly slipping on your shoes and ignoring Manjiro’s pained cries of your name.
You rush out the door, quickly dialing Ken’s number as you begin heading in the direction of his shop.
It’s 30 minutes later when you find yourself curled up on Ken’s couch, wrapped in a heavy blanket and trying not to think about what transpired earlier.
Ken has retreated into the kitchen to prepare cups of tea for you both, and every so often he throws concerned glances your way. You haven’t yet told him what exactly had happened, but you sounded distraught over the phone.
Finished with preparing your tea, Ken carefully carries both cups to the couch, silently offering you yours. You accept with a quiet “thank you” and allow the steam rising from the cup to soothe your nerves.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ken watches you from the corner of his eyes, his own cup sat on the coffee table.
You shake your head. “Not right this moment. Maybe a little later.”
Ken nods, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him. You immediately snuggle into his embrace, head laying on his shoulder.
“I slept with Hanma.”
You can feel him nod.
“I figured.”
“I thought it would make me feel better, and it did, for a little while. But now I just feel…dirty. Like I’m no better than Manjiro. We’re still married after all.”
Ken listens quietly as you vent, hand rubbing soothingly up and down your arm.
“Normally, yes, two wrongs don’t make a right. But Mikey left you in a vulnerable place, __. It’s understandable that you reacted in the way that you did. And besides, he’s the one who betrayed you. I wouldn’t be so worried about returning the favor.”
A small smile curves your mouth.
“Thanks Ken. You know, I really, truly appreciate you being here for me.”
The man grins, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.
“No problem __, it’s my pleasure.”
ᵃ/ⁿ: ᵐⁱᵏᵉʸ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ᵖᵃᵗʰᵉᵗⁱᶜ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ, ᵒʰ ᵐʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈⁿᵉˢˢ. 😭 ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ…
Aɴʏᴡᴀʏ. 🙃
ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵒʷ ᵠᵘⁱᶜᵏ ⁱ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵘᵗ? ⁱᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿ' ʸᵃˡˡ, ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ 6 ʷᵃˢ ᵏⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿ' ᵐʸ ASS.
ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ'ᵛᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ! ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ 3 ᵈᵃʸˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ. ʷᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ˢᵗᵉᵃᵈⁱˡʸ. 😂
ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸ'ᵃˡˡ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ! ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿ'! 👋🏾
#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev#tokrev#tw cheating#cw cheating#sano manjiro#manjiro sano#cheater mikey#cheating sano manjiro#cheating manjiro sano
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fem!reader/18+ MDNI. aged up!kat, ofc.
Cockwarming with inexperienced!Bakugou is an absolute treat.
He's all pink in the face as you sit on his lap in nothing but your short skirt and cute socks; the blush so intense that it makes both of his cheeks blaze with heat. It's a high enough temperature to fry eggs on. The rosy hue deepens into a redder shade whenever your eyes meet his, and turns outright crimson when that complacent glint finds itself inside your irises and you smile like a cat.
Your arms are hooked around his neck, nimble fingers stroking the damp hair on the nape every once in a while. The ash blonde shade seems slightly darker, now that the salt of his sweat clings to the soft pads of your digits whenever you weave your way through the droopy spikes.
He's sweating so much - even more than usual. The entire room smells sweet, like caramel and sex. You've been sitting on his dick for a long while now; have been squeezing and warming him nearly for a small eternity, which he's considered as nothing but pure bliss so far.
It's already made him cum once, after all.
And he feels so fucking embarrassed about it, of course he does. He's lasted five minutes at most before his breath had hitched inside the back of his throat and he'd spilled everything he had inside your tight little cunt. You didn't even have to move, or bounce, or do anything, really. All it took was a couple of mewlish moans and a soft "K-Kat-...!" whilst he sucked on your tits, and he was done for.
So now he sits on your bed, feeling his own goddamn cum dribble down to his balls as your pussy drools all over him because of the stretch his cock is giving you as it grows bigger and bigger for the second time around. You've never slipped off of his lap even after he came. No, instead you just giggled, kissed the tip of his nose and stroked his broad - albeit stiff - shoulders whilst whispering a taunting, "You're so cute. Let's try that again." into his ear.
"Shut up," he finds himself grumbling in answer with that gruff sort of tone he usually doesn't use all that much around you anymore, despite that his blush glows even a brighter shade of red at the taunting praise. His voice sounds hoarse from all the deep breathing and groans he's tried to stifle. He's biting his rosy lip to resist a moan every time you readjust, or squeeze him tighter.
God help him, he's about to burst. Your pussy is just so sweet and good. It hugs his dick in a way that outright makes his mouth salivate. Who knows how many times he's swallowed the runny spit already. How many times he's clenched his thighs to keep himself from busting a nut so quick again. It's all so pathetic; he's pathetic from how much of an impact he allows you to have over him, just because your cunt is so good that it turns him dumb in a way.
So, being as pussy drunk as he is; Bakugou complies. He's inexperienced, and thus overwhelmed. He doesn't really know what feels right just quite, he just knows that this - you sitting on his dick and gushing milky strings of your mixed arousal - feels good. So he swallows his pride and shoves the reins into your hands so that you can lead this entire thing. Allows himself to just enjoy the pleasure your tight, gooey walls provide, as well as the warmth they bring.
And when he finally does let go, it turns him nearly dazed. His vermilion eyes are darker than usual as you sink down on him even lower and squeeze his cock so intensely that he's ready paint the inside of your cunt white all over again. They roll into the back of his head the moment he lets out a raspy, "Holy fucking shit, baby."
Your fingers tangle into his thick hair and push it away from his sweat-riddled forehead as his head lulls forward and he presses his warm cheek against your chest in attempt of stabilizing himself and hiding how flustered he's become. Beard stubble, which he hasn't gotten the chance to shave yet today, now scrapes the softness of your tits as he listens to your heart and just breathes.
He low-key hates how your roles become swapped during intimacy. How he turns into this sappy, blushing mess, whilst you're all smug and collected despite having your belly full of his cock and your capacity overtaken completely. Christ, how in the hell do you manage to seem so calm when you're stuffed so full? When his cockhead keeps pressing against your cervix? When his big hands are roaming your body and squeezing that perfect peach of yours so hard that the skin is starting to ache and bruise. He just can't understand it.
But now, as his ears perk and he listens to the sound of your heartbeat, Bakugou finds himself chuckling breathlessly. Pressing his cheek even harder to your heaving chest, he realises that the rhythm of the muscle that's hiding on the other side is quick and urgent - intense.
Perhaps you aren't as calm as you pretend to be.
#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo smut#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugou smut#mha smut#katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki#katsuki smut
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I have been absolutely loving Bookstore Cryptid Dream! Offline life got rough for a bit there, but this little universe never failed to make my heart happy. Thank you - and I hope you're planning on more!
i've indeed had one in my drafts so i finished it up for you :)
--
Hob has been waiting with equal parts anticipation and trepidation to find out exactly what ideas Dream will pull from his romance novels. He still hasn't figured out why he picked romance novels as his manuals. Maybe he needs his sex positions to have narratives. Maybe he's into roleplay. God.
But Hob doesn't get to find out.
He's been busy for a few days--new term at the local uni starting up means the cafe's suddenly gotten busier--and while Dream's popped in and out a few times, they haven't had the chance to spend much time together. It's probably good, Hob tries to convince himself. Puts the brakes on things, just a little.
But when he finally gets a break, hands the reins over to his staff for an evening, he heads to The Library. Even if Dream is busy with his own tasks, Hob's content to just sit in his space. Listen to his stories. It's not something the busy cafe environment usually allows, but The Library is like an alternate world, cool, quiet, and timeless.
Hob strides up the steps and opens The Library door.
And there's nothing inside.
It takes several moments for his tired brain to comprehend what he's looking at, and several more for him to decide that no, he's not dreaming. He steps through the doorway into a dim, empty room, old wood-paneled walls and dust gathering in the corners, and no infinite winding paths of shelves like in Dream's bookshop. Just a shell.
Hob presses his palm to the wall. It's cool, and smooth, and very much real. Not some mad hallucination of his, this empty room.
Blinking hard, Hob steps back outside, closes the door again, as if that might change things. Opens it again. Same room. Does it again. Same room. He calls out into the empty bowels of the once-Library: "Dream!"
No answer, of course.
Hob had known that The Library had a sort of magic to it. But just vanishing into thin air...
And Dream wouldn't...
...would he?
Hob spins in place on the stoop, looking out on the darkened street which suddenly feels so much more eerie. He steps down to the road in a daze, looking around as if The Library might suddenly appear in another doorway. Resists the urge to yell Dream's name into the darkness.
And then, well, fuck it. "Dream!" he calls. All that echoes back to him is his own voice.
Hob sits down on the stoop, defeated. If he hadn't seen Dream just yesterday, kissed him on his way out of the cafe not twenty-four hours ago, he really might have started to think he'd hallucinated all of this. Invented someone he'd wanted to know.
But he didn't invent Dream, he swears he didn't--so then where is he?
Hob doesn't sleep much that night. He doesn't do much of anything else, either--it's not like Dream left a note to track him down, or any evidence of his existence. It's not like Hob can put up missing person posters: have you seen this bookshop? Or force it to reappear.
He's having a very sleep-deprived, very over-caffeinated morning shift in the cafe, contemplating how long one's not-quite-human not-quite-boyfriend needs to be not-quite-missing before it's reasonable to start finding out which parts of London harbor demons and sorcerers--when a man he's never seen before stops at the counter, hands folded before him, and says, "Excuse me, but do you know if there's a bookshop around here?"
Hob has never seen anyone else ever go into The Library or even acknowledge its existence, and Hob's anxiety is so high that he almost leaps over the counter to grab this man by the collar and demand, what do you know about Dream?! Fortunately he belays that impulse. This stranger really does look almost laughably harmless and definitely not like a demon or sorcerer, not that Hob's seen one--and getting arrested for assault is not going to help anything.
"I tried the door," continues the stranger, as Hob just keeps staring at him, conflicted, "only, well. It seems to have vanished."
Well, at least Hob's not hallucinating. Not that a disappearing bookstore is helpful to his sanity.
After what was surely a conspicuously long silence, though his visitor just waits patiently, Hob says, "Have... you been there before?" He feels weirdly defensive of The Library, even if it's currently AWOL. He doesn't know if he wants random people to be able to find Dream.
Or maybe that's just jealousy.
"Oh, no, this is my first time coming this way," says the man, apologetically. "I'm just looking for a certain book."
Damn odd timing for it.
Hob comes out from behind the counter and waves him over to a table. He should probably get some tea. Proper hospitality and all. But he's too worked up and way too sleep-deprived.
His guest sits down primly at the table as Hob slouches against the back of his own seat. "Sorry," Hob finally says, "if I'm--" he waves a vague hand. "Dream's had trouble before, that's all." He holds out his hand to his guest. "Hob."
The man shakes his hand. "Hm. A pleasure. I am Aziraphale. To any associate of--" he tastes the name, "Dream's, that is."
It's interesting that The Library's reputation carries further than knowledge of Dream himself, despite how deeply Dream seems to be tied to the shop.
"Is it meant to be there, then?" asks Aziraphale hopefully. "I wouldn't blame him for moving around to protect the collection; I certainly wouldn't want all and sundry picking through the shelves!" He shudders. "Though I was hoping to find that book."
Hob doesn't bother asking what book. Whatever it is, Dream will certainly have it. What's more important is--
"'Moving around?' Do you know how?" And then, realizing if he wants a chance at info he's going to need to offer some of his own, adds, "You just missed him, it's only today that The Library's been... gone."
"Oh, dear," says Aziraphale, now looking troubled.
"Not sure what pointed you towards this place, but if you've heard anything..." Hob continues, "Dream is my--" what is Dream, anyway? They haven't established it, "...friend."
Looking contemplative, Aziraphale says, "Well it is odd timing, now that you mention it, because--"
That's when the door to The Library flies open.
A lanky man comes hurtling down the steps, limbs akimbo, yelling something over his shoulder that Hob can't hear from within the cafe. "Oh dear," says Aziraphale again, with a mix of concern and consternation. "Crowley!"
Dream storms out of the doorway next, expression thunderous, his hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been struck by lightning. That has Hob lurching to his feet, which Aziraphale does as well, and they both rush outside, just in time to hear--
"Look, it's just one silly book, okay?" The unfamiliar man--Crowley, presumably--says, stopping in the middle of the road and turning towards Dream. "Don't overreact."
Dream is, in fact, clutching a singular heavy book, and looks like he's just about to hurl it, except that Dream would never do something so undignified as that, Hob thinks.
Dream hurls the book at Crowley.
Or not.
Crowley catches it against his chest, stumbling back with the weight. "I do not accept," spits Dream, each word the strike of a nail, "surreptitious rummaging in my library."
"Oh come on," says Crowley, tossing the book to Aziraphale, who's just caught up to him and who catches it with a surprised little umph! sound. Crowley makes a shooing sort of go on, run gesture to Aziraphale, which he doesn't heed. "It's not like I was going to burn the place down. You're just prejudiced against demons."
"I am prejudiced against thieves," hisses Dream. Hob finally reaches his side before he can throw another book or something, lays a hand on Dream's arm. Though all he's really thinking is, demons?!
"Crowley," Aziraphale admonishes. "Please tell me you did not." He finally looks at the cover of the book, and gasps. "Crowley."
Crowley shrugs. "You wanted it, he had it."
Hob frowns, confused. "You don't need to steal from The Library. It's not a museum. Just go in and buy it." Not that Hob's ever actually paid for any of Dream's books.
Both Crowley and Aziraphale turn to him. "One could not simply give away such an artifact," says Aziraphale, caressing the book's leatherbound cover.
"Least not for a steep price," says Crowley, which evidently justifies his trying to swipe it. "I won't be beholden to the likes of you." He points at Dream.
Dream looks affronted. "Now who is prejudiced?"
"Let's back up," Hob says, unsure how he became the voice of reason here. He still has a hand wrapped around Dream's arm, it's grounding after the way Dream had just vanished on him. "What happened? Dream-- I tried to come over and you were just gone." The empty room past The Library doorway is going to continue to be nightmare fuel.
Dream makes an apologetic little sound. "I apologize. I closed all access to The Library for its protection. As it turned out, my assessment of the threat was overstated." He glares at Crowley and adds, darkly, "I thought you were from the school board. Breaking in in the dead of night like so."
Hob momentarily gets stuck on the fact that Dream considers the local school board a greater threat than an actual demon from hell.
"Which," Dream continues, "was utterly unnecessary. You could have simply come to The Library as a visitor and sought out what you were looking for. It would have been granted."
"Oh, so I was just supposed to know you actually sell your books?"
"The books will find their rightful recipients," Dream says stiffly.
"Crowley, you have been very rude," says Aziraphale, though he hasn't given up the book, "I think you should apologize."
"Eh," says Crowley, waving this off. Hob supposes it wouldn't really be given to demons to apologize for things. "You apologize if you really want to."
Aziraphale turns to Dream with a sigh. "I am sorry for my companion's behavior. And... grateful for the book."
Dream nods solemnly at him. It seems his ire does not extend to Aziraphale.
Crowley leans back on his heels, closer to Aziraphale. "Mayyybee we should go now."
Aziraphale nods. "Quite." He tips his head at Dream, and then at Hob. "Thank you for your hospitality, Hob."
Then he turns and hurries away, Crowley slinking along beside him. As they leave, Hob hears Aziraphale admonish, "Do you know how few booksellers there are with truly rare volumes? We cannot afford to make such enemies."
"Yeah, you're welcome, angel."
"...Thank you."
Hob shakes his head in bemusement and turns back to Dream. He takes both of Dream's arms in his hands now, holding onto him, looking him over. Unable to fully vanish the lingering panic of The Library just being gone. "Are you alright? I was... worried. When you disappeared."
"I am annoyed," Dream huffs, like it's a greater point of suffering than any actual injury. Then he leans in close to Hob, pressing a hand to his chest. "I apologize. I did not intend to cause you distress. I had to shut the doors rather quickly, but I hoped to resolve the issue before you had cause to visit The Library."
"It's alright, love. I'm just glad you're okay." He kisses Dream, tentative for how new this all still is. Tastes lightning on his lips. Dream hums with pleasure.
When they pull apart, Hob wraps an arm around Dream's back, starts leading him back towards the cafe, or perhaps just to Hob's flat above. Tea solves everything. "So. The school board, eh?"
Dream sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "They are enthusiastic about banning books."
Hob pulls him against his side, kisses his temple. "Dream against the world."
Dream grumbles, but leans his head on Hob's shoulder, and despite the many strange things of today Hob is going to have to internalize, he feels all soft inside at the gesture.
"Don't worry," he says, "next time your many enemies come calling, just yell and I'll create a diversion."
"And be waiting with tea after I've dealt with them?"
"Got it in one."
As they reach the door to the cafe, Dream turns his head to kiss Hob's shoulder. "You are good to me, Hob Gadling."
And Hob will keep being so. Even when the next strange thing happens.
#hob: yep. same shit as always#idk in what type school boards do or don't exist in the uk maybe that's just an american thing#also realized i never named Hob's cafe lol. i guess now it's just called The Cafe. like The Library#fitting for a man who named his tavern The New Inn#bookstore cryptid dream#my writing#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#ask#lunaris1013#good omens#crowley#aziraphale
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Hi again! Love all your werewolf ones so I thought I'd ask for one that hasn't been done yet...
Headcanons on all the boys during their ruts/when there MC goes through their heat/sex with them just in general!
If that makes sense I hope
Oh yessss this is so fun~
I'll start with their ruts, but I can definitely do the other two as well if you'd like <3
Content: breeding kink (reader doesn't need to be able to get pregnant, these beasts don't know how pregnancy works), talk of pups/litters, possessiveness, rough sex, biting, scratching, knotting, mild manipulation, multiple orgasms, marking, scenting/scent kink, crying/general patheticness from Ian, mild blood kink, threats, mild dubcon, somnophilia, cockwarming
Bo:
You can tell when his rut is getting closer because he starts to get more aggressive and territorial
Lots of pacing and growling. He resource guards and won't let anyone into his area of the den except for you
And oh does he get territorial over you too. He's constantly scenting you, rubbing himself against you and making you wear his clothes
He needs the others to know that you're his mate. And that for the remainder of his rut they are not to touch you under any circumstances
His rut really brings out his wolf side. He's always been the most animalistic of the pack, but during his rut it's even worse
He's not afraid to use his teeth and claws to get you into whatever position he wants you in
He goes partially nonverbal during his rut, it's mostly just snarls and growls. But he makes it very clear what he wants, even without speaking
He won't be able to calm down or soothe the agitation and need inside of himself until he's knotted you
He'll pin you down and fuck you senseless until his knot swells and he cums deep inside of you. He's determined to breed you by the end of his rut
He's got a one-track mind during his rut. All he can think about is knotting you and filling you with his pups. He doesn't care about anything else
There's about an hour or so of calm after he cums. He'll curl around you, knot still inside you as he makes soothing sounds and treats you like the most precious and delicate thing in the world
But once he's hard again, he's back to fucking you into an incoherent mess. He just can't seem to get enough of you for the few days that his rut lasts
Jack:
Jack's pretty good at keeping control during his rut. You can tell he's in it because he tends to get a bit snappier and visibly tense, but he reins it in for the most part
He's just not his sunny self, he has less patience for the others and tends to prefer to be on his own during his rut
Well... on his own except for you, of course. He doesn't want you leaving his side, but he won't be as forceful about it as some of the others
No, he'll convince you with his words instead. After all, you stay with the others during their ruts, so it's only fair that you stay with him during his, right Sunshine?
In the days leading up to his rut, he hunts more and generally works harder to make up for the amount of time he's going to spend hiding in his part of the den with you
And when his rut hits, well he knows it's going to happen, so he makes sure that you're already cuddled up in bed with him and ready to help soothe his animal instincts
He always tries to stay in control. He needs to be in control. He deeply resents having these instincts that he's beholden to
But once he gets you turned on... once he can smell your arousal, can feel your soft skin under his hands, can taste you...
He loses that control. He gives in to his animalistic desires, fucking you like his life depends on it. Driven wild with the need to breed you over and over
He keeps enough sense to be gentle with you. To listen to you, to make sure you're enjoying it too. He makes sure you cum as much as he does
But he's insatiable. There's no pause between rounds, he'll keep trying to fuck you even while he's still knotted in you from the last round
By the time his rut is over, you're well-used and sore, but deeply satisfied. And you have a doting Jack trying to make up for being rougher than usual
Ian:
His rut hits him hard and unpredictably. The others are on pretty solid cycles and can tell when they're going to go into rut, but Ian never knows and it's never consistent
His rut makes him soft and sensitive. The smallest things can make him cry, and he gets very clingy with you. He needs lots of comfort and reassurance
That's not to say that he doesn't get possessive. He absolutely does. But he's more likely to cry and whine and curl around you pathetically than to try to fight the others if they get too close
He'll keep you with him through his rut out of pity, it's hard to see him like that. So pent up and needy that it hurts. He's in pain, and it's obvious to everyone that he needs this
He'll cry when he bottoms out in you. He'll whine about how he needed you so badly, about how he needed to be inside of you, about how he needs to put a litter in you
He's so apologetic, even when he's deep in the throes of his rut. He'll cling to you and apologise for being so rough, even as his claws are digging hard into your thighs while he fucks you
He marks you up like his life depends on it. He needs them all to know that you're his. He needs you to know you're his. He needs to know you're his
He tends to get very shaky and weak after he cums. Even as he's knotted in you, he needs you to run your fingers through his hair to help ground him. And maybe also feed him some snacks
His rut is as unpredictable in length as it is in timing. Sometimes filling you once is enough to satisfy it, but other times you're holed up in his part of the den for weeks
In the peaceful moments between rounds, he tends to rub your stomach and whisper about how nice it'll be to have pups with you, and how he can't wait to be a father
Most of the time, though, he's just apologetic and ashamed that he's so unable to control his urges. That he can't help himself but fuck you
Shaun:
Shaun during his rut is kind of like a drunk frat bro at a party. He'll fight if he thinks someone is trying to take his partner, but the rest of the time he's just horny
He keeps meticulous track of his ruts because they come on so fast. He'll be completely normal one moment, and the smell of you will drive him wild the next
It's the same when his rut ends. He just suddenly feels completely normal and is back to his usual goofy self. His rut is just a momentary lapse of control
He gets clumsy and sort of foggy-brained during his rut. He can't think too hard about anything or do much that requires coordination, but thankfully he doesn't need to
All of his brainpower and strength are dedicated to pinning you down, marking you up, and breeding you over and over until he's sure you'll be having his pups
He's a biter. They all tend to bite, but he'll sink his teeth into any flesh he can find. He'll dig them into your shoulder while he fucks you from behind, into your chest while he puts you in a mating press, he just needs to leave his mark
He's also a licker. He'll lick over every mark he leaves, especially if there's any blood...
He'll have a hand on your stomach the whole time, growling in your ear about how he can't wait to watch you swell with his child, to breed you properly like a good mate should
If anyone interrupts the two of you, his instinct is to fight. He's not at his best, though, so usually it's more just growling and snapping his teeth until they back off
Between rounds, when you manage to get a little sleep in, he's curled up around you. There's never a moment during his rut that you're out of his arms
By the end of his rut, you're guaranteed to be covered in bruises, bite marks, and his scent. They don't fade for days afterwards and he can't help but admire them even after his rut
Nick:
It's nearly impossible to tell that Nick's in his rut until you're in bed with him. He keeps his cool, he acts the same as normal, but once you're fucking him, he can't keep it in anymore
He's pretty much at peace with his wolf side in a way most of the others aren't. He's learned to live with it and control his instincts... for the most part
He can tell that he's in rut. But he'll woo you like normal and bring you back to his part of the den before letting his rut win out. You won't know until he's balls deep in you
But once he's inside of you? Oh that's when he lets the wolf take over. He'll pin you down, growling and pounding into you, desperate to breed you
If you try to move too much or do something he doesn't like, he'll give warning nips to your throat. You know he'd never hurt you, even in rut, but he's not above a little threat~
While his rut does make him feel more possessive and territorial, it never really has to come out, because none of the others are stupid enough to try challenging him
So you're all his for his whole rut, no interruptions, nothing but his cock pounding into you over and over until he knots you
But once he's knotted you and cum inside you each time, he'll settle down for cuddles. His head stays pretty clear, so he'll chat with you and soothe any soreness you're feeling
He's the only one with a clear enough head for proper aftercare between rounds. He'll make sure you're eating and drinking enough, stretching, sleeping...
But he's also got insane stamina, so you'll be getting fucked senseless every hour of the day. And possibly also while you nap, if he can't help himself
He's not as vocal about his desire to breed you. He's too busy fucking you and trying to make sure you cum as many times as he does. But he does want to breed you
He's the most open and unashamed about his rut. He'll tease you about it when he wants to fluster you, growling about how he can't wait for his next rut to put you back in your place when you act up~
Joseph:
He feels so intensely guilty about his rut. He tends to fight with his wolf side a lot, especially when it comes to the more base instincts like breeding
So when he's hit with that sudden need to keep you away from everyone else and to put a litter in you... well, his first thought is to isolate himself and avoid you
It doesn't work, of course. The communal area of the den isn't huge and unless his rut coincides with someone else's, that's where you're bound to be
And you're not about to let him avoid you. So soon enough, you find yourself pinned underneath him while he tries to wrestle with his wolf side
Just press your hips up into his, reassure him it's okay, and he'll snap. He'll dig his fangs into your shoulder and fuck you like his life depends on it
Once his wolf side takes over, it takes over completely. He'll fuck you on every surface and in every position. His cock needs to be in you at all times
Even when you're so exhausted you can't help but sleep, he still needs you cockwarming him. He'll rock his hips so slowly, knotted inside of you, desperate to fill you again
In moments of semi-lucidity, he's coherent enough to talk dirty to you. Telling you all about how he can't wait to see you full of his pups, so everyone knows you're his
But most of the time he just growls curses in your ear, panting about how tight and warm you are, repeating fuck fuck fuck like a mantra as he chases his next orgasm
He may not have the wherewithal to make an effort to help you cum, but there's no way you won't cum from the brutal pounding and the way his hands can't get enough of your body
He generally doesn't sleep or eat during his rut. Luckily they only last a few days, but at the end of it he'll collapse and needs to be tended to very gently
He'll just want to curl up with you afterwards and make sure that you're okay. He's so worried he hurt you or pushed you too far past your limit, so he needs lots of reassurance
Jean:
His ruts tend to start while he's sleeping. He'll get agitated and territorial in the days before, but it's sort of hard to tell because of his personality
So he'll suddenly wake up absolutely burning with the need to breed you. All he can think about is being balls deep in your tight hole
He's got no time to think about anything else, or to worry about the fact that you're probably sleeping. He'll follow your scent and drag you back to his bed
He's the kind to throw you over his shoulder and haul you to his part of the den, toss you onto the sheets, and have his way with you without more than a few growls
It doesn't matter if you're still tired. He'll just gruffly tell you to sleep through it while he breeds you. He needs you, and a little sleep isn't gonna stop him
But he prefers it when you're awake. Your sounds, your smell, your reactions... they fuel him. Each and every one is as good as fucking you
He can't get enough of your scent when he's in rut. He'll nuzzle into your neck and breathe in deep as he pounds into you, hoping your scent will linger in his bed after his rut is over
His ruts tend to be shorter, usually only a day or two. But they're so intense and a lot more frequent than everyone else's. You can expect to be woken a couple of times a month for them
He doesn't bother to keep track of them, but they're pretty regular. So it's not too hard to keep an eye on the calendar and make sure you're in his bed when it starts if you want
If you're already in his bed when his rut starts, he won't even bother waking you. He's so desperate to fill you with pups that he can't wait
When his rut is over, he mostly just wants to keep an eye on you to see if it took. None of them know if you can get pregnant or how it would work, so he tends to just watch and wait
He doesn't like to talk about or acknowledge his rut when it's not happening. He gets embarrassed and snaps at people if they bring it up, he's generally at peace with his wolf side, but ruts are a different matter entirely
#swwsdj#something's wrong with sunny day jack#dachabo#sdj jack#sdj ian#sdj shaun#sdj nick#sdj joseph#sdj jean#bo x reader#sunny day jack x reader#ian duff x reader#shaun durand cofer x reader#nick herraras x reader#joseph haberdae x reader#jean laurent x reader#gn!reader#dachabo headcanons#sdj headcanons#18+ only#asks#sunshine#misswilding
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series masterlist ⭑ co-creator @memoiich
You had finally moved away from your hometown. A final answer to your undying search for independence. A trait your mothers whipped tongue had tried to rein back for years. Something that had very clearly failed. The thought alone made you smirk a bit as you stood before your new home. The Alderaan apartments were a choice at best. Very cheap for the location being so close to the centre of the city but a little decrepit. Still it felt like a palace to you right now.
You made your way up to the 4th floor, the highest of the crumbling building. Leaving you to look out to the curtains of the slightly nicer hotel on the other side of the street. Grabbing your suitcase, you unpacked your luggage before coming to the realisation that you had no food in your new home. And of course it just had to be dark outside, evening having set. After overthinking your options you decided to ask your neighbour for some eggs. Dragging yourself to your neighbour’s door with your metaphorical tail between your legs, you knocked on the door.
A strange being poked its face through the slightest gap possible, it looked around worried. You didn’t know if it was to look for trouble or to find it. After the anxiety-writing look, the creature opened the creaking door. Now that you could see it, It was clearly a Gungan.
“Hello. Missa Jar Jar Binks. Why are you at misssas door?“ he questions “Hey, I'm your new neighbour. I was wondering if I could borrow some eggs?“ You say, a bit unsure of the Gungan in front of you. “Missa loves eggs. Sun sun or scrambled, lovely for my tumtum” jar jar snickers at the end. ”So… Can I use the eggs? You question once again. “Missa doesn’t have any eggs for sunsun but missa could go to the store for stuff and stuff.” Not only did you think of going to the store before you were now massively disappointed and also extremely tired. The less effort option was clearly the wrong one.
“No it's fine I will go myself thank you anyways.” Before finishing Jar Jar was already speaking, “It's not a big dealio, you newbie don't know the way like missa does.” Before you could protest against this clearly exhausting task, he was already out of the door and started walking towards the staircase. Not wanting to be rude, you followed. It took 17 minutes longer than normal to get to the store because Jar Jar wanted to ‘cut a cornerio’. Once at the store Jar Jar started to argue after eating a RAW egg “As a tasty jum jum” Only after 36 min of arguing and you finally offering to just buy the dozen did you start to make your way back home which also took a small hour.
You could finally bid Jar Jar goodnight. You got home just to cook the damn eggs ‘sun-sun’ style and went to bed in the early morning, you already knew this new life was going to be hard at first.
Waking up had never been so hard before, but the alarm was ringing and today was an important one. It was your first day at your new job at the paper company, ‘Paper Force’. Paper Force was located pretty far away, you would have to drive past the mustafar part of the city, making it a long trip for a very tired driver. Prepping for work wasn't the worst as you had laid out your work outfit the night before.
You got in your beat-up 2002 beetle and started the 50 minute commute. At the 20 minute point your car started to rumble, not just a soft snore, no, a rumble. 10 minutes later and you were stuck by the side of the road. You search an auto shop on your hologram immediately. The only car mechanic that wasn't 2 hours away was a place called ‘MustaCar’. Having no time to waste, you called the number.
45 long minutes later an old pickup truck pulls up behind your still-not-starting beetle. By this point you were frankly very annoyed. You were already half an hour late to your new job, and it didn't seem like you were going to get there soon. And to make things worse, you slept bad last night, meaning you were now rather sleep deprived.
The door to the pickup truck swings open with a clunk, clearly well used. A man in his early to mid 20’s steps out of the vehicle, he reaches up and moves his dark-blond curls out of his field of vision. He wears an oil-stained long sleeved button up, of which you cannot tell the original colour, as well as a pair of dirtied jeans. He spots you, puts his hands in his pockets and stalks over, clearly in no hurry.
“I was just thinking you weren't going to bother showing up” you snapped at him harshly. “Well, sorry Miss, the rest of the world doesn’t revolve around you” You let out a sharp breath at his words. “Excuse me, just look at my car and do your job”. You were fed up with this day already and now you had to deal with a know-it-all, stuck-up, man-child of a mechanic. “Parents didn’t teach you manners I see, now what seems to be the matter here? So I can do my job” He walks towards your car, popping the lid. You roll your eyes at him before speaking. “Well she won't go” He rolls up his sleeves, “Figured that much” he states. Your brows furrow in annoyance, you don’t have time for his attitude, “something started making noise and now she doesn't want to run.” He leans forward to observe your car’s engine. “She, huh, does the lovely lady have a name as well?” You can hear his smirk through his words. Your ears turn red “Shelby, the car is called Shelby”. The mechanic lets out a harsh laugh as he turns to something unknown “An old lady I suppose then, with a name like that”. You let out a huff and turn away.
“Dead Battery and the terminals are corroding”. You jump slightly, having zoned out. “Sorry?” you question. “You have a dead battery and its terminals are also corroding. Oh and you have a break problem, that's what the noise was”. You stand there a bit perplexed, “Uh what does that mean?”. “It means you aren’t gonna be able to drive Shelby until you get her fixed”. He says the name of your car amusingly. “So can you do it then?” You ask, checking your hologram for the time, you were almost an hour late already. “Well that's my job isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow. You sigh, clearly this guy thought highly of himself. “How much and how long?” you demand, patient wearing thin at this point. “Well the battery change is gonna be about 150, plus the corrosion, about 20, and the grinding breaks, another 150 credits” he pauses before speaking again, “it’ll take a bit, have to order in the parts, could take a while, a few weeks”. “A few weeks!” you all but shout.
You pace away, trying to think. You were very very late, had little to no sleep, and now your beloved car wasn’t going, plus you might have to wait weeks to get her back running. “Fine, do what you must” you bark out. Hopefully this man could fix Shelby quickly, and you would never have to deal with him or another car problem ever again. “Need anything out of her? Or are you good?” He asks. You walk over to Shelby, grab your bag, morning caffeine fix, and sweater. You shut the door gently. The guy speaks, walking back over to the pickup truck “Okay then, I’ll take her into the shop and she’ll be good as new soon. Oh and I will probably need some contact details, unless you never want to see your car again” He walks back carrying a piece of blue-ish paper and a pen with the ‘MustaCar’ logo on the side, passing both to you. You write down your information and hand it back to his expecting hand. “You should come by the shop, I’m sure the guys would love that” And with a smirk and a wink, he turns, secures Shelby, and gets back into the pickup. You watch as he drives off with your prized possession, your Shelby, If he ruins her, he will have hell to pay.
You had now been walking for 30 minutes, with your workplace still another 20 minutes away. Your hair sticks to your forehead with sweat and your feet are starting to ache. The music playing in your ears is a nice distraction from your situation as you stroll at pace. Finally after what feels like a millennium, you reach the building. The large blue letters spell ‘Paper Force’, meaning you haven’t gotten lost along the way. Making your way to the building, you check your reflection in a window, fix your hair, and give yourself a mental pep talk. Just go in, explain what happened, it will all be fine. At least you hope. With a deep breath and step inside.
Pulling up the shop with a rumble, the pickup-truck deposits his newest client's female car around the back. The fading MustaCar sign blinks slowly at him as he gets out the parked truck and steps foot on solid ground. The beetle named Shelby looks out of place among the beat up vehicles, and forgotten projects of the shop.
“Anakin” A female voice yells from inside the garage before a young togruta steps out. She wears overalls and a pair of safety goggles on her head. “New project Snips” He says. “What's wrong with it? It looks pretty good to me” the togruta states as she walks over and runs a hand over the bonnet. “Battery is dead, corrosion, and breaks need new pads” Anakin explains, counting off each problem on his fingers. “We are gonna need to order stuff in for her”. The togruta laughs “Her?” she questions. Anakin sighs “Yes, Ahsoka, Her. Owner calls it Shelby". “Cute” Ahsoka shrugs “lets see what we can do”.
“Well the brake pads are definitely going to have to be replaced, there is basically nothing there” Ahsoka looks up as she speaks. “Thought as much, '' replies Anakin, as he wanders over with two cups of coffee, he passes one to Ahsoka. “Thanks”. “I placed an order for the new battery and brake pads, should take a week to arrive, but knowing the shipping times, it will probably take longer than that” Anakin says as he surveys Shelby. “At least she isn’t a complete wreck”. Ahsoka nods behind Anakin “speaking of wrecks, how is that project coming along ''. Anakin turns to look at the car sitting under a large tree. He had picked up the third generation Pontiac firebird from a man on his deathbed; it had been living in a barn for 20 years, rusted, and in desperate need of restoration. If it even could be saved. “It's a work in progress Snips”, “I don’t know, it is rusted pretty bad in some of it, it will take a genius to make it run again”, “Good thing i’m here then” He replies with a smile. Ahsoka rolls her eyes and drains the last of her drink before returning to their newest project.
A voice pulls Anakin out of his work “Anakin, I need to speak to you”. The voice comes from an elderly man, Palpatine, the creator and owner of MustaCar. “Of course” Anakin wipes the oil off his hands on a nearby cloth, before throwing it back on the table and following Palpatine. They enter the main office of the shop and Palpatine closes the door behind them. “Sith Auto Dominion is growing. At this rate we will be losing profit by the same time next month” Palpatine states. Sith Auto Dominion was the biggest competition for MustaCar, located on the other side of town on Geonosis Blvd. Over time the opposing shop had been taking their customers, meaning Palpatine and the people he employ have been having to cut costs however they can. “What can we do?” Anakin questions. “Not much my boy, we just have to be careful. I have owned this shop for 45 years and I will not see it go bankrupt” he takes a breath “You are my best mechanic Anakin, I cannot afford to lose you”. Palpatine walks around to his desk and sits down, gesturing at the seat opposite him. “I have a favour to ask you, Anakin”. “Anything” He replies. “Take your apprentice, go to Sith Auto, find out what they have that we don’t”
“Alright Snips, we have a job”
#star wars#the clone wars#tcw#anakin x you#anakin skywalker x reader#hayden christensen#hayden christensen imagine#hayden christensen x reader#revenge of the sith#ashoka tano#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#obi wan imagine#obi wan kenobi#obi wan and anakin#obi wan star wars#obi wan x reader#prequel trilogy#obi wan x you#ewan mcgregor
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