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6ix9inewiturmom · 2 days

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Camera Caught- Matt Sturniolo

Summary: you accidentally left some hickeys on matt’s neck and the fans catch it, start making edits, and matt “punishes” you

Warnings: SMUT, degradation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (female receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex, praising, slight crying.

A/N: I LOVE YOU ALL ENJOYY

PSA: I GIVE NO RIGHTS TO COPY MY WORK OR USE MY WORK FOR “INSPIRATION”

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Matt and I’s relationship has been very very private, we've been trying to keep it that way till we both collectively agreed to go public. Matt was down in the garage filming for a Friday video and I was endlessly scrolling on TikTok, I came across this edit of Matt, I didn't think much of it till i saw the comments.

Mattscupsupremacy: THE HICKEY?! WHO IS SHE?? MATTS A FREAKY GAL

Chrissypoohmylover: UHM MATTHEW?? what a freaky man.. she’s one lucky girl to be getting that fire dick

Nickismyqueen: WHY IS NO ONE POINTING OUT THE FACT HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO COVER IT UP??

Yamother6629: we lost another one girls… Funeral at my place at 6 pm tmr 😔💔

Thefourthtriplet5239: MATT SEEMED SO VANILLA.. who would ever guess that man is kinky?

“No no no” I say panicking out loud and immediately jumping out of bed and running through the house and busting the door open to the garage where Nick, Matt, and Chris are barging into the garage which sends the boys into an immediate panic

“Okay so you can edit this out of the video but it's an emergency,” I say out of breath.

“Girl go the fuck on, you said it’s an emergency, spill let’s go” Nick says snapping his fingers.

“Okay, patience, so I was scrolling through TikTok like normally waiting for you guys to finish filming and I scroll across this Matt edit,” I say trying to find the edit on my phone.

“Y/N how many times do I have to tell you to stop watching edits of me, I'm right here no need to fangirl over me,” Matt says with a sense of cockyness in his voice.

“No no hold on it gets better, so I scroll through the comments cause you know it's funny watching as the 12-year-olds talk about you being their ‘baby’-” start before Chris cut me off

“GET TO THE FUCKING POINT YAPPER,” Chris says throwing his hands in the air

“Says the one who goes on about putting a literal tit milk-drinking infant in the backseat of a car with no car seat. So let's not talk about her yapping” nick defends.

“ANYWAYS, Matt you forgot to cover your hickeys from the other night and everyone knows about it now, cause when you moved out of frame your hoodie must have come down, and there are edits and people calling you ‘vanilla’ whatever the hell that means, and like everyone is wondering who the girl is and I'm like panicking now,” I say with panic in my voice “I know you weren't ready to go public but everyone is like freaking the fuck out” I continue.

“Fuck, I thought the hoodie was a good cover” matt sighs “look its fine well figure it out after I'm done filming just go back inside and calm the hell down” he gives me a quick peck on my forehead and shutting the door of the car.

A couple of minutes later I got a text from matt, normally he does send me the occasional ‘i love you, almost done filming’ message but this one was a little different.

Matty B Rapz 💍

you’re in big trouble for getting us caught

i hope you ain’t tired cause you’re in for a long night

This wasn't out of the normal for Matt to be rough with me but over text? This is new, but I love it. I could feel myself getting soaked at all the possible ways Matt could fuck me, all the positions, thinking of all the ways in which he could make me cum.

After an hour and a half of endless scrolling through TikTok, I can hear the footsteps of Matt through the hallway.

“Hi baby, how was filming?” I say as he walks in the door immediately shutting it and locking it.

“Don't ‘baby’ me, strip,” he says harshly as his eyes darken with lust.

A smirk appeared on my lips, and moved off the bed walking towards him as I placed my phone down on the bedside table and slowly and teasingly removed my pants and shirt leaving me in my light pink lingerie set that I knew drove him insane, the way it hugged my curves, pushed my Brests up with a small delicate flower in the middle, and my underwear that sat and hung onto my hips with another small flower in the middle of it.

“So fucking sexy,” Matt says under his breath causing a light shade of pink to appear on my cheeks.

Matt wraps his arms around my torso and unclips my bra letting my breasts fall and the straps of my bra fall off my arms. He lightly pushes me back so I'm sitting on our shared bed as he places a deep and passionate kiss on my lips.

I yearn for more of his lips but he pulls away from me and starts trailing light kisses down my jaw and to my neck and sucking harshly on my neck so we have matching marks on my neck and soft moans escaping my lips.

“Since you had to go and get us caught,” he starts before sucking harsher in my neck in a pattern this time. “Everyone's gonna know who you belong to now” he pulls away walking back a couple of steps to admire the marks he left on my neck.

‘M’

His initial was spelled out on my neck.

“And you're not gonna cover that up. Got it?” he spits walking towards me and wrapping his hand around my neck.

“Yes, Matt” I whisper out

“Good fucking girl” he removes his hand from my neck and pushes me down so my back is now on the bed flat.

He lowers his body down, basically on his knees, and he leaves kisses down my stomach before kissing over my clothed pussy and a soft whimper comes out of my lips.

Using his teeth he guides my underwear off my legs and throws them on the floor with a smirk plastered on his face.

His face between my legs was always a sight for sore eyes, never failed to turn me on the way his blue eyes always stared at me through his eyelashes. He places small kisses around my thighs eventually making his way down to my dripping pussy and placing kisses everywhere around it but where I need him the most.

“Matt, please” I plead.

“What are you begging for? Use that filthy mouth of yours and tell me what you want” he says harshly.

“I need your mouth, please” i whine.

He smirks and uses his tongue to move up and down my folds collecting my juices he lets out a groan as the taste of my pussy touches his tongue. His lips attach to my clit sucking harshly on it.

“FUCK MATT” My back arches and my eyes roll back basically seeing my brain.

His tongue explores every inch of me as he keeps a steady gaze on me and how my body reacts to his mouth. His fingers trail into my begging hole that's clenched around the air begging to be fulfilled curling his slim fingers upward reaching a spot I could never reach by myself.

“MATT” I scream out as My thighs close his head in.

“Legs stay open” he mutters through my pussy.

His fingers now moving at a pace that's driving me absolutely insane, his muted moans against my pussy is only turning me on more.

“close” i breathe out trying not to strain my voice.

“hold it,” he says muttering against me as his nose flicks my clit digging his face deeper into my pussy. He was almost moaning as much as I was, typically he didn't even care if he cums, he gets off at watching me come unglued from his mouth or fingers.

“Please” I repeat pleading with matt.

“No, you're gonna hold it and you're gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be” he lifts his head continuing his pace with his fingers.

His gaze never left me, the way my back arched off the bed and my eyes rolled back just at his fingers was always so amusing to him.

“You always look so beautiful wrapped around my fingers,” he says smirking down at me and taking his lower lip between his teeth as he continues to arch his fingers inside me.

“PL-PLEA- CUM” i mutter unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Go ahead baby, let it all out” he coos in my ear in a low raspy voice.

The knot in my stomach snaps, and my orgasm hits me like a bus, my legs shake as my cum drips down into his fingers. he removes his fingers licking off my cum from them.

“Face down ass up, I ain't done with you” he says sternly.

I slowly nod turning around and holding myself up by my elbows taunting my ass around in the air. Matt smirks to himself removes his hoodie, and quickly removes his boxers and pants throwing all his clothes somewhere in the room.

I feel the bed dip down from the weight of his knees behind me. He reaches his arm around to my mouth places his hand below my mouth.

“Spit” he says harshly.

I obey spitting in his hand as he uses my spit to rub around the tip of his cock moving his hand up and down to coat his cock.

Matt aligns himself with my entrance and immediately bottoms out letting a loud groan escape his lips as my hips jerk backward and a loud whine leaks from my lips.

“You think you're so fucking innocent huh? Leaving those fucking hickeys on my neck” he spits thrusting harshly into me gripping onto my hair and pushing my head far into the mattress.

“I-im SO-SORRY” I scream into the mattress.

“Oh, you're sorry? If you were sorry you wouldn't be creaming all over my fucking. dick.” he says thirsting harder to annunciate his last two words as his head hangs low to look down at the white rim that's formed around the base of his cock.

“FUCKK” I whine out with tears starting to form in my eyes from the overstimulation. “CANT- CANT-TAKE” I muffle out as his hand pushes my head farther in the bed.

“You wanted this” he grunts “You take it” his hand travels down my body and starts to toy with my sensitive clit.

“OH BABY-” i scream out as my cervix begins to twitch around his cock signaling how close I was.

“Oh you think you're gonna cum soon?” he taunts rubbing faster on my clit as his thrusts begin getting sloppier.

“Pl-pl-please” I whisper yell to him.

“You're so fucking pathetic” he groans out using both hands and pressing my waist down the bed and rolling his hips into me getting deeper and kissing my cervix with his cock.

My legs began to shake and tremble “CLOSE” i choke out. his grip on my waist loosens up as he leans down and kisses my back.

“let it go, baby, let it all out” With that, the knot in my stomach breaks and I squirt all over the bed leaving a wet mess beneath me. “God damn baby you're so fucking sexy” he leaves small kisses on my neck as his thrusts got even sloppier.

“Oh fuck” he buries his head in my neck and groans as his cum begins to shoot out of him filling my hole of his cum.

He softly pulls out of me rolling me over now laying on my back and gives me a soft peck on the lips.

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” he smiles down at me and I shoot him a small smile back.

He throws on the same pair of sweatpants from earlier and walks softly and carefully to the bathroom wetting a small rag and bringing it back into the room.

“You did amazing, Y/N” he smiles up at me as he carefully runs the warm wash rag down my legs and anywhere else that was covered in cum.

“I am sorry about getting us caught, I know that we didn't want to go public just yet” I softly whisper as he makes his way next to me bringing me into his arms and placing a kiss down on my head.

“Hey, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out in the morning. But for now, just get some sleep," he says, running his fingers through my hair and occasionally kissing my head. We eventually drifted asleep, intertwined with each other.

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A/N PT 2 HI LOVES!! IDK how to feel ab this one but i hope you guys enjoyed it! I hope you're doing amazing!! And have an amazing day/night/evening!!

Xoxo

Gabs 💋

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

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fraugwinska · 1 day

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I swear your stories make my heart skip beats❤️🩷❤️🩷 I need some soft spicy Alastor x Female Reader. Maybe a Morning After scenario with Alastor and the reader (waking up together, being soft and cute. Kisses and stuff and maybe a slight continuation of last night😏😏)

After the last stories I was EAGER to write your request, my dearest @alastor-simp. I've accepted my rank as fluff fairy, and I oh-so-love to write these cute, tender moments!!! Thank you for this ask, I hope I did it justice!

For the best experience, I suggest to listen to Ingrid Michaelson's "Love is', which I imagined the radio to play in the story (and listened to while I wrote it)

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

We only have Forever

The birds in hell weren't like anything on earth – their songs were not sweet and melodic, but rather ominous and melancholic.

Which is why, when you were woken by an unusual, bright chirping sound, you thought for a split second you were alive again, waking up from an intense, unusually immersive dream.

You shifted, cheeks still pressed into the white, soft pillow and body messily wrapped in cotton sheets, too drowsy to realize that the chirp was not coming from birds, but the little, vintage radio that sat beside the bed in. It quietly came to life, the search for a channel resulting in high, pitchy squeaks and fuzzy static feedback. Which was always the tell-tale sign of a waking Alastor.

The arm around your waist twitched, causing you to sigh peacefully. Your lids fall close and you let it pull you back into the center of the bed, into a warm, waiting body - a soft chest, thinly covered in silky taupe fur that tickled your nose, an underlying, hearty scent of wood and vetiver and the familiar rhythm of another heart drumming against your ears.

You left your eyes closed, relying on the most comforting senses of touch, hear and feel, the latter came into use as the sensation of sleepy, light kisses on the crown of your head that caused your lips to pull into a blissful smile.

"Mornin' my buck."

"Good morning, my doe."

His voice was nothing more of a mumble, still lazy and half asleep, hoarse and slightly deeper than when up and about. When he finally seemed to have picked a radio station he liked, the room was filled with a soft, dreamy song which suited the very same ambiance that was present - happy, in love, slow, silent bliss. It was one of your favorites, and one of the few more modern ones Alastor tolerated.

He ran his slender fingers up your back and shoulders, through the disheveled masses of hair, stroking it gently with his sharp talons, scratching ever so lightly on the scalp. He pulled himself a little more forward, tangling his legs even more with yours in an effort to maximize the connection of your bodies and minimize the space that span between you.

"Hey, easy now or I'll think you're afraid I'll jump up and leave as soon as my eyes open." you teased playfully, as Alastor nuzzled his nose deep in your hair, taking in deep breaths, inhaling your scent and humming in content.

"I had hoped after all my efforts tonight you wouldn't be able to even if you tried, darling."

You flicked his ear in fake indignation, but chuckled and raked your fingers over his back in soft, tender streaks, your fingertips gliding over his spine and sides. He shivered under your touches and melted deeper into you. A rhythmic, shuffling sound joined in with the faint tune from the radio, and Alastor groaned when you purred in lofty pride.

"Damned, traitorous thing...", Alastor scowled, trying to evade the hand that reached for his wagging tail under the sheets.

"Don't you talk like that about my precious friend.", you cooed and caressed the plush fur on his lower back, scratching with nimble fingers close to the base of his tail, the very spot where he was extremely... responsive. Alastor just growled again, missing any angry or mad edge, his tail continuing to thump louder and even quicker and causing him to whine as he failed to stop its excited sway.

"It betrays me."

"No, it only tells me that you're happy."

Alastor tilts his head to brush his lips over your own, almost not touching, a tiny, bittersweet distance between his and your mouth.

"If it's that much more of a conservationist for you, maybe I should stop talking then."

With a faint, sighed chuckle he finally closed the agonizing gap, lips met lips in a slow and flowing embrace, moving almost at the tempo of the song, it's calming beat guiding the cadence and harmony of his kiss. You felt him smile, more relaxed and at ease that his usual signature grin, even though your eyes were closed shut in drowsiness and enjoyment. The slow, lazy, fullness of this morning's intimacy, of your bodies so closely pressed together in ruffled sheets while hell's sun was only slowly rising on the horizon, making out and embracing each other without the need to rush or be somewhere in another hour or so was a rare occasion and therefore worth savoring.

His hands traveled over your hips, up your waist to settle in a gentle, cradling grip around your neck, fingertips grazing the outer edges of the delicate bite mark still there as a reminder of the contrasting feverish passion you both shared last night. With Alastor - It was war and peace, in a circle - hard, unforgiving, passionate desire at the beginning of dusk, and soft, tender and sensual love at the break of dawn. A clash of burning flames and gentle streams, all on an even ground of equals.

You sensed the slight change in the mood, the licks over your parted lips with the warm tip of his tongue soon turned to be deep and demanding, less lazy and more eager movements from his tongue - exploring the insides of your mouth, playfully flicking yours and circling around and between your teeth. His large hand left it's spot in the crook of your neck and pulled on the base of you head, sinking his digits in the tuft of your hair. You moaned softly into the kiss, more of a wanton, sloppy sound rather than anything else and you started to grow flushed, your skin tingling pleasantly under every touch and lick and nibble.

You deeply enjoyed the roughness and depravity you shared in the nights, you really really did. But this, this was what you loved. It was when Alastor wasn't starved for you, endlessly hungry and hasty to devour you but when you were a well prepped meal, slowly cooked and seasoned with care and love that you felt the most powerful connection of your souls - his touches were careful and secure and when he held you in his arms like this, kissed and adorned you like that, every and any gesture or caress spoke so clearly the sentence he had captured your heart with - you are mine and only mine.

"You are saying an awful lot with that body language for someone who wanted to stop talking, my buck." Alastor laughed fondly at your husky breathed words, rolling you on top of him, sheets sticking to the planes of your bare bodies. You threw a leg over him to sit in a straddling position, your face a mere few inches above his as he rolled his hips and swayed your body against his growing length.

“That's the beauty of a loophole, my doe, for no spoken words could express me quite as honestly as this."

Alastor kissed you once more and, now grinning as devilishly as you were used to, let his hands find rest on your hips, ready to start one more of those heavenly nonverbal conversations before you both had to ready yourselves for the hellish world outside of your bedroom.

Again, thank you for suggesting this. And a big shoutout to @minkdelovely, who made my heart skip with her article on 'Pictures of you'. The fluff fairy had you in mind with this, too ;>)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #fluff galore #twinkle twinkle it's the fluff fairy #lazy morning sex #making out with al - a girl can dream

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kkami-writes · 3 days

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waiting for us — chapter fifty one. the wedding cw. smut!, semi-public sex (bathroom), piv, protected sex (shout out to condoms) wc. 1,965 + 4 ss a/n: THIS IS UNEDITED. I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS MY GOD. I'm so sorry this took forever...that's my bad <3 hopefully the motivation keeps rolling and i'll finally finish this fic.

The ceremony had been perfect, something right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The venue had been small since they had kept it to close family and friends but it still had been breathtaking. Minghao had made you his best “man” and there was no place you’d rather be than next to your best friend on the most important day of his life. (and if you cried while they were reciting their vows, you’d never tell. Though Minghao had taken plenty of pictures of you ugly crying to store in his blackmail folder.)

It was probably inappropriate to daydream during a wedding, but Jeongin couldn’t help himself. You were standing up there, looking absolutely breathtaking, it was hardly his fault that his mind had wondered what you would look like, dressed in all white at their own wedding.

If he was honest, he never expected to get married. Well, he supposed that’s wrong. While he does in fact plan on getting married eventually to all his soulmates, before you had come into the picture that had agreed that a ceremony between eight people would be a little hectic. He didn’t need some grand ceremony to show his love but for now, he could dream of seeing you in a wedding dress for now.

The reception is just as gorgeous as the actual wedding, with lavish decorations and a crystal chandelier.

Currently you were being dragged from table to table, both Minghao and Jun introducing you to people like you were their child. (though Minghao would argue that him and Jun were indeed your dads).

From across the room you can feel a pair of eyes on you, practically burning a hole into your flesh from his heated gaze. Jeongin was sat at your assigned table, a drink forgotten in front of him while he stared you down. His gaze is enough to set you aflame, cheeks reddened from how intense his eyes felt against you, not so subtly running along your body. The boy was practically eye fucking you from across the room, not a shameful bone in his body. It was quite distracting as you tried to introduce yourself to Jun’s grandmother.

The two of you make eye contact and it’s impossible to look away, his deep chocolate eyes captivating you. Jeongin’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, your eyes following the movement and the cheeky fucker smirks, knowing he’s caught you in his web. With a subtle nod towards the bathrooms, he gets up, suddenly paying you no mind before striding in the direction he directed you to. It leaves you a little mystified, blinking and frozen in place. You clear your throat, turning to Jun with a small smile.

“Excuse me Junnie,” You mumble before escaping the male’s grasp, but he lets you go easily enough, too caught up in a different conversation.

As you make your way towards the bathrooms there’s a sense of heat that starts to fill your lower belly, a wave on anticipation for whatever Jeongin has up his sleeve. It fills you with excitement, hands practically shaking as you open the door.

The bathrooms are one of those fancy single ones, lights dim and fancy expensive soap. You don’t have time to admire the decore as Jeongin pins you back against the door, the tell tale click of the door being locked. He doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours, practically devouring you. It’s all teeth and tongue, groaning into your mouth desperately. The sound goes straight to your pussy.

Jeongin presses against you, already hard in his slacks, hips rutting up against you.

“Fuck. Do you even know how good you look?” His voice is raspy and deep, sounding already so gone. You can’t help but giggle, rather enjoying the effect you have on the boy.

“Mm, I have no idea,” You singsong. “Maybe you should tell me,” Your words illicit another groan from the boy before he’s picking you up and carrying you over to the counter and setting you down there. Perhaps the way he had lifted you up like it was nothing turned you on further, it would seem your baby bread has been accompaning his hyungs to the gym more often.

Jeongin runs his hands up until they’re splayed across your thighs, easy access thanks to the slit in your dress. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer, taking his time to savor your taste. Meanwhile his hands grope and squish at the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers running up until they hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.

You let out a gasp as his long fingers make contact with your wet core and Jeongin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your awaiting mouth. You’re completely at his mercy, deft fingers circling your clit and his tongue stealing your breath away.

“So wet,” His voice is deep, slightly gruff as he nips at your now swollen tiers. “Eager are we?” The cocky tone makes you want to roll your eyes at him, but they’re rolling to the back of your head anyway as he easily slides a digit into your core, a whine falling from your lips. “Look so good like this for me,”

You can vaguely hear the sound of the music that’s blasting in the venue, the walls of the bathroom muting it but even then, the sound of your slick echoes lewdly in your ear and it heats your body up.

Jeongin is so content like this, watching you fall apart on the counter, soft moans filtering from your lips as he’s lazily thrusts his fingers into you. As much as he would love to take his time with you, his cock is starting to ache, still trapped in the confines of his slacks.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He asks against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your earlobe and trailing them down your neck. You nod your head, probably a little too eagerly but there’s pretty much nothing on your mind besides Jeongin’s cock splitting you in half. But then you remember something important and it makes you whine.

“Innie…you don’t have a condom do you?”

The question makes him freeze and if he wasn’t literally two fingers deep in your cunt you would have laughed at his bewildered facial expression. But then suddenly he’s pulling out of you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of his fingers filling you up. Jeongin is frantically patting at his slacks, as if searching for something, leaving you slightly baffled at the sight. Finally he pulls his wallet out and from it, produces a singular condom.

“Seungminnie hyung said I should keep one in my wallet just in case…never really thought anything about it. I’m gonna kiss that man later,” His words make you snort, shaking your head at how silly he is. But if you were honest, you’d probably kiss Seungmin later for the same reason.

The two of you don’t waste anymore time, remembering you are in a public space, at your best friends wedding for goodness sake. In your defense, your brain is no longer working, especially when Jeongin is bending you over the (very nice) counter, moving the skirt of your dress aside and slipping your panties down your legs.

You arch your back just slightly, legs spreading to give the boy a peak at your glistening folds and Jeongin swears he could probably cum in his pants. He’s quick to slide the condom over his almost painful erection, coming close to press his chest to your back, trailing kisses along your shoulder. He ruts his cock against your soaked core before positioning in front of your entrance. With how aroused you are, it’s an easily glide in, just a slight stretch that feels all too good.

Jeongin lets out a borderline pornographic moan when he bottoms out, your wet warm heat squeezing his cock feels heavenly and he already knows he’s not gonna last very long. He shudders against your body as he holds you tightly, large hands splayed across your torso.

“Fuck- You feel so fucking good,” He groans, needing just a second to calm himself down before he blows his load already. You can barely register his words, not faring any better. The sensation of being so full, of having your soulmates cock buried inside your heat is a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.

The two of you simply relish in the moment for a second and while maybe Jeongin might have jumped the gun on your first time together, he promises that the next time he’ll take his time to savor you. For now he just wants to feel you coming apart on his cock.

He moves his hips rather expertly, rocking into you with strong thrusts and you feel yourself further melting into the cool counter, the drag of Jeongin’s cock against your gummy walls feels too fucking good. Any and all thoughts are leaving your head, the only thing you care about is the heady pleasure that builds steadily in the pit of your stomach.

Jeongin is pressed flush against your back, sucking marks into your skin and whispering sweet dirty words into your ear and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

“Such a good girl, hm? Taking my cock so well. You feel so good baby…I’m not gonna last long,” He nips at the back of your ear and you nod your head in agreement.

“Innie! I-Innie…” You’re mumbling his name over and over like a chant, your walls clenching around his length sporatically. “I’m so close…gonna, gonna cum,” You gasp out, the rubber band threatening to snap each time the tip of his cock hits that spot deep inside of you. He brings a finger to your clit, rubbing the swollen button in circles.

“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” He says with a grunt, thrusts somehow getting even harsher and the sound of skin slapping reverberates against the walls.

It doesn’t take much longer before you’re gushing around his cock, coming with a whimper. Jeongin does his best to fuck you through your orgasm but with the way your walls clench around him has him spilling into the condom not too far after you. Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, slowly coming down from the euphoria of such an act. Jeongin seems to collect himself before you, not even noticing him pulling out. You only finally come out of your haze when you feel something damp against your skin.

Jeongin is cleaning you up, even if he didn’t cum inside, you can still feel your own release against your thighs. Slowly, he also helps you pull your panties back up before picking you up to settle you on the counter. He fusses over you, smoothing your hair down and fixing your dress and your heart flutters in your chest at how attentive the younger boy is after having just dicked you down. You giggle before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss, one that he happily melts into.

When you two pull away, he’s giving you that bright fox-like smile, dimples practically blinding you as he helps you off the counter.

“C’mon baby. Let’s go dance and hope that your friends didn’t notice your disappearance,” You snort.

“Even if they didn’t, I think the hickies speak for themselves,” Jeongin has the gall to blush, his tongue running along his teeth.

“Sorry, not sorry,”

“You are such a brat,”

“Guilty!”

You roll your eyes, spanking him before moving towards the door.

“Let’s go dance baby bread,”

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waiting for us taglist (50/50) @abbiestearsricochet @boo-ven9eance @adorawritesalot @inlovewithallmusic @alnex05

@borahae-reads @zonked-times @loverlixie @katsukis1wife @0325tiny

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@everglowdaisies @boi-bi-ahaha @popcatx0 @stayinhellevator @jaiuneamesolitaiire

@enchantedgrunge @corrodedthorn @143lix @ashitshowforalot @lynlyndoll

@txtandroll @kawennote09 @liknws @ritzy-dream-boy @vampcharxter

@puppy-minnie @freckleboilix @turtledove824 @fylithia @jutdwaekkigym

@hyunestrella @blackrowses @chlodavids @reallysparklychaos @sunnibearr

@chili-crab0811 @stickycrusadecollective @lucidliving1205 @princelingperfect @leemidnightmoon

@shakalakaboomboo @nykto-philia @mixtape-racha @lovestayforev @the-simpy-simp

#stray kids #stray kids smau #skz smau #stray kids social media au #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz texts #skz fake texts #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz social media au #skz smut #stray kids smut

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brnesblogposts · 2 days

Text

monster in his nightmares

pairing bucky barnes x reader

warnings ANGST!!!

a/n can you guys let me know if you can click on my master list and are directed to my fics because it’s not working for me.

reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed !

You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe. Your neck is being squeezed so tight your vision spotting as panic takes over.

“Bu- Bucky” You whisper as best you can in broken breathes, he doesn’t know he’s doing it. He never does, his nightmares are vivid and so real to him and he can’t control his physical reactions, tears are rolling down your face as you move your hand to grip his metal wrist and try loosen his grip, you don’t want it to have to come to violence but the fear you might die and the fear he’d spend the rest of his life feeling guilty for something he couldn’t control- you start kicking him, kicking and hitting. Wake up, wake up you think to yourself

‘No. Stop. Please. Dont put me back in the chair, dont wipe my mind again’ Bucky thinks to himself in a panic as Hyrda agents push him back, how did they find him? how was he tricked into being taken again and now his memory wiped of everything he loves- his memories of you- ‘No.’ The thought of losing you is enough to make him push through and use all his strength, he takes his metal hand and wraps it around the nearest agents neck, it call kicks off into a frenzy then but he fights through it, he watches as the life drains out of the agents face.

“Bu- bucky?” What? No they don’t- they call him soldat- who’s speaking, who’s kicking him? this man he’s strangling sounds like a woman? odd. what’s happening?

He’s in a room, it’s dark. He’s on something soft, a mattress? They don’t give out those in Hydra so he can’t be back with them, who’s underneath him?

“You’re okay” Strangled sobs, you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. “Bucky” You all but desperately whine, that’s when he really wakes up.

Bucky shoots back quickly sitting on his knees as you take in deep breathes of oxygen and rub at your aching throat, he’s bewildered, did he? He hurt you. He hurt his doll.. He jumps off of the bed and backs away, he’s shaking, sweating, he’s starting to violently sob as reality comes crashing down. He almost killed you.

You finally get enough air in your lungs to notice Bucky is gone, you sit up and your heart breaks as you see him sitting against the wall on the other side of the room, looking at his metal hand like it’s a weapon, like he’s sickened by the sight of it. Getting up slowly you approach him and crouch in front of him, at the approach of your hand he flinches.

“No” That one word holding so much pain.

“Get away from me, I- I don’t wanna hurt you anymore Doll” He’s not looking at you, he can’t. If he sees the state of your neck, the bruises he’s left-

“Bucky” You whisper quietly as he shakes his head again, it’s hard for him to comeback down from nightmares but you don’t know what to do in this particular situation, he’s never hurt you because of them before, not this bad.

“It’s not your fault” You reassure him, not expecting an answer but you hope to get through to him, that the reassurance and love you show him right now will help him see he’s not the man in his nightmares.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me” You say as you sit down across him him still giving him space as he holds his head in his hands and cries.

“I’m okay” You don’t care how long you have to sit here, as long as Bucky needs you’re gonna be there for him.

You sit in silence for a few minutes and just watch him as he takes some deep breathes, a technique he learnt in therapy, you get up and grab him some water leaving it by him for him to take in his own time, he does eventually and takes small sips.

A record is playing softly in the background he notices, one of his favourites. He senses your presence, he knows you’re there but he doesn’t understand why. He almost killed you, why aren’t you running away from him?

“I-i’m dangerous, you should get away from me-” He wont meet your eyes.

“I trust you, Bucky.” You don’t know what else you can say to reassure him, he just needs time to come down from this.

“How?” He looks at you now, grimacing as he sees the bruises on your neck. “How can you trust me, look what I did.” He’s so ashamed.

“You didn’t mean to. You were having a nightmare, we can work this out, we can talk to some doctors and see how to get your physical reactions to nightmares under control Buck. If you think i’m leaving because of this you’re wrong. I’m fine, you came out of it and i’m okay” Tears build up behind your eyes but Bucky is so fragile and vulnerable right now you’re trying to be strong for him.

He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes wet with tears and his face one of shock horror, you can’t hold it back anymore you start to tear up.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this, I wish I could take it all away, I really wish I could.” You reach your hand out in hopes he’ll let you have that little bit of contact and he does, he takes your hand albeit cautiously and at the contact you start to cry harder.

“You don’t deserve any of it, Buck. You never did. You’re the best man i’ve ever met and your heart is so pure. It makes me so mad to think about what you’ve been through and how it will stick with you for the rest of your life. It’s fucked up and I wish- I wish I could- I want to kill everyone who has ever been bad to you or used you.” The frustration of having to watch Bucky suffer the severe PTSD that he does hurts your heart, it causes your chest to actually ache because he is so sweet, so gentle.

“Don’t cry” Bucky says in response as his heart is being ripped out of his chest at the sight of you so upset. “There’s no need to cry” Despite everything he’s been through seeing you even just the tiniest bit upset hurts him more than anything ever could, so it’s for that reason that he looks past the fear he’s holding and leans forward to pull you into his chest.

You instantly curl up, this is so grounding for Bucky, feeling your heartbeat against his, your skin on his skin, it’s so intimate for him in times like these where he’s taken back to times when he never received simple love like touch, now more than ever he cherishes it.

“Buck-“ You croak out as you kiss his face all over, trying to show just how much you love him. He shushes you and rocks with you, his head clearing and eyes drying up. Your presence alone does more than therapy ever can.

So you both sit there for awhile, the only sounds to be heard is the both of you breathing. You stroke comforting hands up and down Buckys back and through his hair, he relaxes into your touch, into the moment, present. No longer stuck in his nightmare he’s now in a dream, being with you is a dream.

After awhile you speak up “Do you want to go back to bed? Or we can go into the living room and watch a movie or a tv show? Whatever you wanna do” You would do anything for him to be okay, you would take his trauma and deal with it yourself if you could if you knew just for a second that he would finally be at peace in his own mind.

He thinks for a second, contemplating.

“The beds kind of- it’s- too fresh in my mind you know? You can go back to bed baby i’ll go to the cou-“

“No” You cut him off “I’m with you, i’m not leaving your side.” He smiles because he’s grateful for you, with that he stands up, you still clinging to him like a koala and moves the both of you to the couch laying down with you on top of him.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asks.

“Anything you want, whatever is gonna make you feel better” Your hands are in his hair again.

He puts on a lighthearted sitcom that makes the both of you laugh as he strokes his hands up and down your back soothing not just you but himself, the contact keeping him in the moment. That’s how the both of you spend the next hour or so before you hear Bucky snoring lightly, finally sleeping nightmare free and you join him, ready to comfort him should he be woken up again.

—

a/n i started writing this a few weeks ago and then i got busy and then i fixated on something else but anyways i finished it! kind of hate it now tho but i haven’t posted in awhile,

taglist- @ktgsoul @orihimi-19 @mostlymarvelgirl (let me know if you wanna be added to a permanent bucky taglist)

divider by @/cafekitsune

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j3llyd0nut · 2 days

Text

Playground Love

ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).

W/C: 1.0k

A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.

"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"

“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”

"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."

"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"

I love him.

At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.

But do you really love him?

The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?

You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for.

"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"

"Why? Age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"

Oh, how naively optimistic you were.

Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security.

“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”

“Does he?”

Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?

“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”

"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."

"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."

"He's... older, isn't he?"

"Um, yeah, he is."

"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."

"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."

"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."

"I promise, Mama.”

You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.

But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid.

You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you.

You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.

But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?

With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.

Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.

“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”

You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.

You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.”

“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.

You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face.

"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.

Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.

Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.

- Oscar Wilde

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil 6 leon #death island leon #infinite darkness leon #damnation leon #vendetta leon #dividers by fairytopea #✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 2 days

Text

Moi Devochki: Chapter 2

Warnings: very minor angst bit, smut(grinding, groping, vaginal penetration), a/b/o content (marking, claiming, knotting)

Word count: 3606

WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Moi Devochki Masterlist

“Don’t you know how to knock?” the redhead questions, “Wait, why are you smiling like that?”

“I went to talk to Wanda and Y/n like you wanted.” she says

Nat furrows her brows, “And? Is the Alpha that's leaving scratches, bruises and hickeys on them a team member?”

Yelena chuckles, “It’s not an Alpha.”

“It’s a Beta?” Nat asks, surprised a Beta would be that expressive with their affections

“Each other actually” her younger sister tells her

Natashas eyes widened. It’s not that she didn’t approve of two Omegas being together, that wasn’t the case at all, as far as she was concerned people deserved to be with who they loved no matter their bearing. She just didn’t expect this, her jealousy for the non existent Alpha definitely clouded her spy senses in this instance because even though she, and she alone noticed the marks you both tried to cover due to her eyes constantly being on both of you, she couldn't figure out you were doing it to the other.

She just couldn’t see it, far too busy watching any other Alpha that came near you both with an angry glare and a longing for her to be the one touching you both. She realized if she didn’t make a move she had no right to be protective or jealous, but the truth was that the Alpha has wanted you both almost as long as she's known you. But she didn’t want to make a move while Wanda was grieving, and how does one make a move on two Omegas anyway. Then she noticed the bruises and bites beginning to show. She thought she was too late, that she waited too long.

“You're not messing with me? There's really not an Alpha?” the Alpha questions, afraid to get her hopes up that she still has a chance

The other Alpha shakes her head, “I wouldn't joke around or lie to you about something that involves your heart sestra(sister).”

Nat smiles then, a genuine smile that reaches her eyes and Yelena finds herself smiling as well. She hasn’t seen her sister smile like that since you and Wanda joined the team, and before that the last time was when they were pups on that mission in Ohio.

“Then I have to tell them. I can’t waste anymore time, even if I’m not the Alpha they want, I need them to know my feelings.” she says

“Well uh, just hang on. Because I didn’t actually talk to them. I just caught them, and I kind of told them that I wouldn’t tell anyone about what I saw, so…”

“And what exactly did you see?” Natasha asks, jealousy in her tone

Yelena chuckles, “Relax, it’s not like I meant to. I just went to talk to them and well, as soon as Y/n opened the door the scent was… well, it was very apparent they had just finished mating.”

Nat was torn between being concerned for the two of you getting caught by Steve, Bruce or Dr. Strange, and longing to know what your scents and noises were like when you were together.

The blonde clears her throat, gaining her sister's attention again, “My point is, how are you going to ask to be with them both if you aren’t supposed to know they're together?”

Her brows furrow, “Does it matter if you told me when you know I want them? It’s not like I’m going to tell the others or punish them. I want to ask them to be mine.”

Yelena thinks over her sisters words for a moment, “True, but I don’t want to seem like a liar. I don’t want them to lose trust in me.”

“I’m sure if I explained the situation they wouldn't be upset about anything.” Nat says, hopeful that her sister will just agree so she can go find the two of you

The younger of the two sighs, “Khorosho, prodolzhay (Fine, go on).”

The redhead practically jumps off her bed, making her way to her bedroom door. She quickly turns to look at her sister, “Wait, do I look ok?”

Yelena groans, “Oh for the love of- they've seen you covered in sweat, dirt, mud, blood, and alien blood and you're worried about how you look?” She blushes slightly but nods her head, Yelena rubs her forehead and looks at her sister. The Alpha is wearing some jeans, a long sleeve olive green shirt and has her long hair done in a braid. “You look perfectly fine Natasha.”

She smiles again before finally opening her door and heading down the hallway towards Wandas room. It takes everything in her not to run there. Once she arrives she takes a deep breath before knocking on the door.

Wanda groans as the two of you cuddle in her nest, “Now what.” she grumbles

You chuckle while sitting up, bringing her with you, “Better see who it is Wan.”

She reluctantly gets up and opens the door, “Oh, hi Natasha.” She tries to not appear nervous at the appearance of the sister of the Alpha that was here mere minutes ago, but the way she spins her rings gives her away.

“Hey Wanda. Mind if I come in to talk?” she asks, eyes not leaving the Omegas.

Wanda tries to think of a way to politely decline, afterall you're still in her nest and the room definitely still has hints of her scent from earlier. The Alpha can see the hesitation on her face and decides to help ease her.

“It’s ok, I know who’s in there and what happened.” she tells the Omega

Wanda, torn between being embarrassed, happy, and worried that the attractive Alpha in front of her knew this about the two of you, blushes and has to clear her throat before replying, “S-sure, come on in.”

You look up to see Wanda open the door for- oh god its Natasha. You quickly fumble to get out of the other Omegas nest, “Relax Y/n, you can stay there if you want.” the redhead says and for a split second you forget how to breathe. Though you aren't sure if that was due to being worried or excited that she seemed to know about you and Wanda.

Wanda, seeing the slight panic on your face, rejoins you in the nest. She holds your hand before addressing the Alpha, “Did Yelena send you to talk with us?” she asks, slightly saddened that the blonde told another Alpha despite promising not to

“No, she didn’t send me here but she did tell me because I actually sent her here earlier.” she admits. You both look at her in confusion as she takes a seat on Wandas desk chair.

“Really, why?” you ask

The Alpha suddenly looks nervous, “Over the last few months I’ve noticed that the two of you have had a lot of bruises, scratches and such. It made me think an Alpha was trying to make you both theirs. I didn’t like that idea, it made me jealous because I only noticed these things due to my inability to take my eyes off either of you. I’m always thinking about you both. What it would be like to hold your hands, to cuddle with you, to scent you, to wake up next to you both in the mornings, to be able to call you mine.” she admits

You give Wanda a smile and she nods her head before looking back at Nat, “Don’t wait any longer then, make us yours Tasha.”

Her eyes sparkle as she smiles at the nickname. She stands and makes her way over to Wandas nest. She gently grabs you both by your chins, lifting your faces to look at hers. She stares at both of you lovingly for a few seconds before her lips crash into Wandas. The kiss starts out soft but quickly gets heated and you're left there to watch, anticipation building to feel the Alphas lips on yours.

Eventually they break apart and Natashas lips meet yours, you quickly let her dominate the kiss by opening your mouth to her and she gladly deepens the kiss.

When she pulls back you can see how dilated her eyes are, and you notice the bulge in her pants. Wanda sees it too and both of you are practically begging for the Alpha. She can see the want in both sets of eyes that look at her, it makes her heart race.

“Please Alpha, we want you.” you finally cave, begging verbally now.

You and the other Omega eagerly begin to undress each other for Natasha, you toss each others shirts across the room in your excitement. The scent of your arousal mixes with Wandas in the air and the Alpha can barely contain herself, but she does. Slowly she settles between you both in the nest, Wanda straddles her lap and a smirk graces your features. Nat looks at you to make sure you're ok with this and you nod, eager to see them together as you help the Alpha learn all of Wandas sensitive spots.

Natashas hands caress Wandas sides as she makes her way to unclasp the Omegas bra. Wanda lets it fall from her chest, Nat gently touches her breasts and when she notices the nipples harden her touch becomes firmer and she gently squeezes. Wanda moans and grinds down on the Alpha who grunts upon feeling the Omegas ass rub against her clothed hard cock.

You lean into the Alpha, your hands slipping under her shirt. Your nails rake across her abbs, her head falls back as she lets out a moan of her own. You and Wanda take advantage of this position and begin to kiss and gently suck on Nats neck. Her breathing quickens and you know she's desperate to have you both.

Your gaze moves to Wanda, “Pants off for our Alpha, printsessa(princess).”

Wanda quickly stands to obey, and the Alpha can feel a warmth in her chest from you calling her ‘our Alpha’. She watches Wanda strip the rest of the way and can feel her cock throb in her pants. Wanda slowly crawls back into the nest and Natashas eyes look over to you. You smile as your hands reach for her jeans, she sighs as you undo them. She lifts her hips and you easily slide her pants and underwear off of her.

You can feel your slick pool between your legs as you take in the sight of the Alphas large cock. You watch as Wanda clenches her thighs together, likely feeling the same as you and Nat smirks as she sees both of your reactions. Wanda gently tugs on the Alphas shirt and she gets the hint, she quickly removes it. You and Wanda each reach a hand behind her back unclasping her bra.

She sits there a moment letting the two of you take in her body before the waiting becomes too much for her, “Come here dorogoy(sweetheart)” she says, gesturing for Wanda.

The Omega listens and straddles the Alphas lap once more, she hovers just above Nats cock. It takes a lot of the Alphas focus to not just thrust up into her, instead she takes two of her fingers and slips them through Wandas slick soaked lips. Wanda whimpers at the feeling and she watches as the Alpha sucks her fingers clean.

“You're ready for me, aren’t you dorogoy(sweetheart)?” she asks

Wanda nods her head, “Yes Tasha”

Natasha grabs the Omegas hips and gently lowers her until she feels herself slip inside. They both moan and Nat finds she can’t hold back anymore. Her arms encircle Wanda and she effortlessly flips them over. Now on top she thrusts herself in and out of Wanda at a faster pace. The Omega moans in pleasure and reaches a hand out for you.

You let her pull you closer, the Alpha watches as your lips pepper kisses and suck marks into Wandas collarbone. Upon seeing how much the Omega likes that spot Nat joins you. Wanda gasps and pants at the attention she's getting from you both, she whimpers and moans as Natashas cock pounds into her. She knows she won’t last much longer. You pull back, letting them have their moment.

She cups the Alphas face, “Knot me, claim me, please.”

Nat groans at hearing this and quickly kisses her tenderly, she quickens her thrusting and as Wandas walls begin to squeeze her she can feel her knot grow. It slams against the Omega a few times before she's able to slip inside. They both moan as the Alpha locks into place, Wanda can feel herself being filled with Natashas cum and she trembles as her orgasm washes over her.

The Alpha bites into one of Wandas scent gland and cleans her mark before pulling away, “Mine” she says

Wanda could cry she's so happy, instead she pulls Nat closer, sinking her teeth into her one scent gland, “My Alpha, my mate” she says before cleaning the mark.

While they're joined for the next few minutes your one hand caresses the Omegas cheek as the other runs up and down the Alphas back. Wanda purrs at the affection and Natasha hums as she enjoys having you both so close.

After her knot deflates Nat is slow to pull out of Wanda, not wanting any of her seed to spill. Wanda whines at the emptiness she now feels, the Alpha kisses her tenderly to offer comfort.

Your whine quickly brings her attention to you however. You sit there with your thighs clenched drenched in your own slick, you enjoyed watching them be together but you desperately want the Alpha to take you and claim you too. Wanda smiles as she watches the way Nat looks at you, it's the same way she looks at you.

Natasha crawls off of Wanda and over to you. She brings a hand up to your face and runs her thumb across your cheek. You lean into her touch, craving more. Her hands move to your bra clasp and she quickly rids you of it, then she tugs at the waistband of your pants.

“Take these off for me medovyy(honey)” she tells you. You purr at the nickname.

You gladly obey, you practically jump from the nest to finish undressing. You can feel Two pairs of eyes on you as you do so and you smile. You quickly rejoin them in the nest. The Alphas hands caress your sides as she guides you to lay down. She gently spreads your legs apart and slots herself between them. She practically moans at the amount of slick you've produced.

“Look how wet you are medovyy(honey). You liked watching me fuck Wanda, didnt you?” she asks with a smirk on her face.

You nod, “Yes Tasha.” you reply, the nickname Wanda used earlier slipping from your lips.

She smiles, lining herself up with your pussy. She slowly pushes into you and you moan at feeling her stretch you. She grabs your hips and begins thrusting in and out of you. Wandas hands cup your breasts and you can’t stop the whimpers and gasps that leave you as Nat continues her thrusts. You can feel a heat rush to your core as they both give you attention.

As Wanda begins to kiss and suck at your neck your legs wrap around the Alpha, bringing her closer and deeper into you. She grunts in response, she loves how well you both take her. She leans down and plants a heated kiss to your lips, you moan into it as her thrusts become faster.

Wanda knows you're close. She pulls away from you, giving you and Natasha your moment just as you had done with her. Your walls start to start to squeeze the Alpha and she moans at the feeling, her knot grows and you can feel it gently push at your entrance.

Her eyes meet yours, silently asking if she can knot you as well, “Please Alpha, I want your knot.” you answer

She smiles as her knot slips into you and locks into place. Your legs tremble as you both cum together, her seed practically pours into you and you moan at how full you feel of your Alpha.

She nuzzles your neck before biting into one of your scent glands, she quickly cleans her mark, “Mine.” she says

You smile before sinking your teeth into her other scent gland, you clean it before pulling away, “My Alpha.”

You stay together for a few minutes just as she and Wanda had, and just like you had the Omega caresses your cheek and Nats back. Eventually the Alpha slowly pulls out from you as well and lays back into the nest.

She looks at you and Wanda, “Come her moi devochki(my girls), come cuddle with your Alpha.”

You each snuggle into her sides, you and Wanda hold each others hands and Natasha runs a hand through Wandas hair, her other running through your hair. You both purr at her affection.

Suddenly the Alpha can feel tears from both her Omegas hitting her skin. She panics briefly, worried that somethings wrong or that she's done something wrong.

“My Omegas, what's wrong?” she asks as she gently guides your faces to look at hers

Wanda shakes her head, “Nothings wrong Alpha, we’re just really happy.”

“We’ve wondered what it would be like to have an Alpha for a while now, but until we met you we never wanted a specific Alpha.” you add

“We were worried you wouldn't accept us loving each other or that you'd only want one of us if you even wanted either of us at all.” Wanda adds

Natasha looks at you both, her hands cup your and Wandas cheeks, “Moi devochki(my girls), I have wanted you both since I first laid eyes on you. I knew I wouldn’t be happy without having you both by my side, I knew you were the Omegas meant for me. You have no idea how happy it makes me now to be able to call you mine.” she admits a few tears of her own escaping

Wanda leans in and kisses your Alpha who eagerly returns the kiss, they break apart and rest their foreheads together.

“I love you Tasha.” the Omega says

Nats smile is huge, “I love you too Wanda”

They pull apart from each other and you take Wandas place on Nats lips.

Your smile matches your Alphas, “I love you Tasha”

“I love you too Y/n.” she says as she pulls you and Wanda back into her sides. “And I know you two love each other too, so I want you to be able to bond. Don’t worry about anyone's reactions to it ok? I promise I’ll make sure no one lays a hand on either of you, and I’ll be damned if anyone could take either of you away from me. I’ll keep you both safe.”

Wanda looks at you excitedly as you look up at your Alpha, “You really mean that? You’d let us mark each other?”

“Of course I would, we’re all each others mates afterall.” she answers

Wanda suges forward capturing you lips with her own, Nat chuckles as she watches you struggle to keep up with the intensity of the kiss.

“I want you now printsessa(princess), please.” you beg as she pulls away from you.

She nods eagerly, “I want you too detka(baby), can’t wait to make you mine.”

You lay back for her, Natasha watches as she crawls over to you. One hand teases a nipple as her other makes its way through your folds, you’ve already produced enough slick that she easily slips two fingers inside you. You moan and grind your hips into her hand.

“Please printsessa(princess), I need more” you say

She complies by slipping a third finger into you, she pumps them in and out of you at a faster pace. Nat brings her hand to Your neck, her thumb brushes against the scent gland she marked and you can barely contain yourself. Your walls tighten around her fingers and she knows you’re close, she brings her thumb to circle your clit and your orgasm quickly washes over you.

she leans down and bites into your unmarked scent gland, the pure happiness you both feel as she marks you is indescribable. She's waited so long and was never sure she’d be able to do it. She pulls away after cleaning her mark and smiles at you, “You're my Omega Y/n, just like you always said I would be.”

You smile before bringing her closer, you bite into her unmarked scent gland. You clean it before letting her go, “And you're my Omega.”

The two of you rest your foreheads together as you both shed more tears of happiness, Your Alpha quietly and fondly watches you both enjoy this moment and she's so happy she was able to let you both have this. You both deserved to be able to bond with the other. The love you shared was so pure and wholesome, it should've been illegal to keep the two of you apart.

The two of you pull apart and find yourselves being scooped into your Alphas hold, she pulls you close to her before she lays back, relaxing once more. You and Wanda settle into her sides again as you both purr. The Alpha enjoys hearing you both, she soaks up the sound as the three of you drift off to sleep.

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @when-wolves-howl @danveration @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories@imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm @zoomdeathknight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @maggieromanov @doveromanoff @mommyluvu @404-almostdone @tarathia @ayoungexwife

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randomdragonfires · 2 days

Text

Moon Song | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | He killed Lucerys, but Aemond sees the ghost of his nephew wherever he goes - especially in his sweet wife's eyes.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; ANGST; Delusions; Incest; Dark Themes; Kinslaying; DD;DNE!

WORD COUNT | 6.6k

A/N | Originally written as a birthday gift for @humanpurposes. Nothing says happy birthday like a dark fic about madness and murder I guess? :)

RAIN-SOAKED AND WEARY, AEMOND TRUDGES THROUGH the murky streets of King's Landing, his cold and damp riding leathers offering no respite. Each step echoes with the haunting images of Vhagar's reckless attack on Luke, the small, agonizing details etched into his mind like a deep carving. The city, shrouded in an eerie mist, seems to mourn his nephew in silent empathy.

A scared face. The cracking of jaws. The sight of Arrax’s wing flapping aimlessly down into the sea. Luke, falling free through the skies…

The Red Keep looms ahead, its imposing towers piercing the darkened sky. Aemond ascends the ancient stone steps in silence, his solitude a curtain shrouding the tempest raging within him. The guards watch him cautiously, sensing the palpable storm that accompanies the one-eyed Prince’s return. As he passes, the torches on the wall flicker, casting grotesque shadows that dance along the corridor walls.

Entering the shared chambers, Aemond's presence goes unnoticed at first. His wife awaits him, her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and anticipation as she sits at the edge of the bed, finding his gaze and immediately making note of his distress. He can feel her scrutiny, her eyes seeking answers he isn't ready to give. With how disappointed she may be, he is not sure that he’ll ever want her to know. But he knows she must, and that he’d rather it come from him than anyone else.

Words remain unspoken as Aemond, drenched and disheveled, closes the distance between them. She hasn’t moved, holding onto him by the waist as he encloses his cold hands onto the back of her head, finding some semblance of comfort in the warmth of her hair. His wife's face softened, ready to welcome him, oblivious to his guilt and agony. In the silence that hung thick in the air, he braced himself for the storm about to engulf their world.

“You’re cold, Aemond. Let me find you something warm to wear,” she says. He doesn’t let her leave him; he will not let her leave him, ever. In heavy times like these, he’s always quite liked having her to hold - and right now, it seems like she understands it just as well as she always does. She is a part of him, made to be by his side.

She’s my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else’s!

He remembers the words. It was the night he had come to, after his eye had been slashed out. The marriage pact had been brokered in the aftermath, a compensation for the losses suffered. His nephew's tantrum and those venomous words had sown the seeds of a bitter possession, one that manifested in the subtle manipulative gestures that followed.

He had reveled in taunting Luke, relishing in the knowledge that he had triumphed over his nephew in more ways than one. Aemond had married his niece, a Princess of Targaryen blood, a strategic move with which he had alleviated the stain of bastardy off of her. He’d spend years taunting Luke over his wins, and he’d finally taken his life too. And now, his wife was about to cast him aside for it.

As he confessed to his wife, his eye, haunted by the accident, bore into hers, seeking understanding, pleading for empathy. The air grew dense, the chasm between them widening like an insurmountable abyss, a reflection of the irreversible consequences that now consumed them.

I need you to believe me.

In the flicker of candlelight, hope clung to Aemond like a shadow, a desperate desire for his wife to see beyond the tragedy. Yet, her features twisted in disbelief, mirroring the horror within him. He had not expected any less, but to see it happen is like a dagger twisting in his heart.

He’s losing her. He cannot lose her. As she tries to draw away, he lets desperation take over him. He would be damned if he let her slip away over something that he did not mean to happen.

His grip on her tightens to the point of choking, her eyes widening as she realizes that she is trapped. Not just in his hold, but in this marriage with a man that would stop at nothing, and is not even above killing family to survive. How long before he kills me too, she probably thinks.

He longs to assure her that he wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, but she is angry. She does not want to hear from him, so he will settle for her forced presence for now. Surely she’ll see. He cannot bear for her to look scared and fearful - she looks too much like her twin when she does. The last thing Aemond needs is to be reminded of him.

Her sobs soak through his already damp clothes. She tries to push him away, but he is like a never-ending nightmare - the more she tries, the tighter his hold becomes, refusing to give her the solitude she craves. He wants to, he is simply scared - what if she never chooses to welcome him again?

Why?

His touch, once a source of comfort, now repulses her, but he remains oblivious to her inner turmoil. In the midst of her agony, he lowers her gently onto the bed, attempting to offer solace through caresses and kisses, unaware that his touch has become a reminder, a brand of her brother's murderer. She refuses to believe that it was an accident, and he is further pained at the dark realization that he may not be above killing her if she tries to betray and leave him over this. After all, if he cannot have her, no one else will.

"Stay with me, wife. Stay with me, and you will be kept alive and safe.” Try to leave me, and you will not live to see the next sunrise.

The unspoken threat hangs in the air, a chilling promise that holds its own through his silence and her sobs. She closes her eyes, her unease palpable, a fear of the man she shares her bed and heart with. Aemond, too, watches her drift away, inch by agonizing inch, knowing he will have to learn to endure. He’ll have to, if her place is by Aemond’s side - and the day he married her, he’d solidified that.

What he won’t quite get used to is realizing how much like Luke she looks in fear, and how her eyes make it seem as though he is boring into his nephew’s instead. The resemblance unnerves him as he is taken back to the skies of Storm’s End in his mind once again - Luke had looked just as fearful for his life in his last moments. She is a reminder of what he’s done, of the half of her who is now lost.

How could he have expected that his own living, breathing wife would haunt him so?

THE LIBRARY IS CLOAKED IN A HUSHED DARKNESS as Aemond buries himself in his book, the words flying over his head as he tries to comprehend them. The oppressive silence of the night presses upon him, mirroring the strain in his heart. His worry for his wife weighs heavily on his mind, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. She has withdrawn from him, choosing silence over conversation, and the void between them grows deeper with each passing day.

In dreams, Luke sits atop his fledgling dragon, looking at him with a somber expression that makes him appear at peace. They are in the skies of Storm’s End again, only this time, neither of them is involved in a chase. They face each other, and each time, Luke talks, and Aemond seems to have no choice but to listen.

This did not have to happen, uncle, he would say. You could have let me live.

Every time, he wakes and resists the urge to slam his fists and pull his spun silver hair out as he wills the fragments of Lucerys to leave him be. He had initially blamed the shock, but even as he gains his bearings, the visions, dreams, and voices only seem to become louder, stronger, and sharper. It would seem that the more desensitized and ready to face war he becomes, the more his nephew insists on haunting him - reminding him that he is no war god, but simply a boy forced to grow into a man too soon.

This did not have to happen, uncle. You made a terrible mistake.

“Leave me in peace bastard, be gone!” He would scream as he slams his fist into the table and sends parchment flying.

Aemond's torment continues unabated, the ghost of Luke lingering in every corner of his life, a silent spirit that refuses to be exorcized. Late at night, as Aemond lies in bed, he catches glimpses of Luke's face in the shadows that dance on the walls, his eyes hauntingly fixed upon him. The weight of his gaze bears down on Aemond's soul, making sleep an elusive and tormenting escape.

In the courtyard, where the echoes of laughter resound, Aemond finds himself frozen in place, the air heavy with Luke's presence. The wind carries whispers that seem to be the soft murmur of Luke's voice, leaving Aemond questioning his sanity. He can almost feel Luke's hand on his shoulder, a touch that sends shivers down his spine and leaves him grasping at the emptiness.

During war strategy sessions, Aemond's mind plays cruel tricks on him. As he pores over maps of wargrounds and fortified keeps, Luke's reflection materializes beside him, scrutinizing terrains with an otherworldly knowledge. Aemond's fingers tremble as he traces the borders, half-expecting Luke to offer his uninvited and foolish insights, but the silence remains.

In the Great Hall, where feasts were once lively celebrations, Aemond finds himself unable to escape the ghostly presence. The sound of revelry - that Aegon insists upon as they celebrate Luke’s death - becomes a haunting cacophony, and he can almost hear Luke's laughter intermingling with the echoes of those who celebrate his demise. Aemond often finds himself raising his goblet in a futile toast, the wine swirling like a macabre dance, mirroring the torment within him.

Even in the solace of nature, where one would hope to find peace, Aemond can't escape the ghostly reminders. Trees cast shadows that resemble Luke's silhouette as Aemond and Vhagar fly overhead, and the chilly air seems to whisper secrets that he strains to understand.

As he closes the book, a phantom chill creeps into the room. A sense of unease claws at him as he tries to erase the recollections from mind, as though doing so would remove the occurrences altogether. The chilly night air outside intensifies, causing the candle flame to dance wildly before it sputters and extinguishes with a subtle hiss. Aemond dismisses the notion, attributing it to a mere draft, and turns away from the now darkened candle.

As he turns, his reflection in the ornate mirror catches his eye, but instead of his own weary countenance, the mirror unveils the ghostly image of Luke. Aemond's breath catches in his throat as he stares into the haunted eyes of his nephew. The dim light casts an eerie glow on his ethereal almost-figure, and the air in the library seems charged with an otherworldly energy. The weight of guilt and the eerie manifestations converged, leaving Aemond paralyzed in the haunting stillness of the library, caught between the realms of the living and the departed.

"This did not have to happen, uncle," Luke's voice carries a weight of unspoken sorrow, each word etched with the regret of an untimely departure. The ghostly echoes linger in the air, weaving through the ancient shelves of books that stand as silent witnesses to this mad exchange.

Aemond - his breath catching in his throat - struggles to find the right response. The weight of guilt presses upon him as he gazes into Luke, dazed. The regret, palpable and suffocating, threatens to consume him. Luke lingers, a reminder of all his irreversible choices. Caught in the grip of the moment, Aemond feels a lump forming in his throat. "I never wanted it to end this way," he whispers, his voice tinged with regret that he would never have admitted to feeling if he hadn't had to voice it out loud.

"You made a terrible mistake," Luke's voice echoes, the accusatory tone cutting through the oppressive silence of the library.

Aemond's eye meets the hollow gaze of his nephew. "I am aware, and I am burdened by it… by you." He confesses, the weight of guilt hanging heavily upon him. Memories of happier days in his marriage pass his mind, and he is once again left with the gnawing pain of not knowing if she will ever seek him out again. Is he going to be made to live with this chasm between them forever? How could she live without him?

And immediately, as thoughts of his sweet wife cross his mind, the image of Luke transforms into when he was much younger, his curls a lot more prominent and his face a bit more round. He says the words again, the same words that Aemond had heard him say about his marriage - and it is all he can do to not fall apart. "She's my twin. She is mine. Her place is by my side, and nobody else's!" Luke's words resonated in the stillness, each repetition intensifying the haunting atmosphere.

The air crackles with unresolved tension as the words loop, a haunting refrain that refuses to fade. Each spoken phrase intertwines with the musty scent of ancient books, filling the room with a lingering sense of melancholy. As the words pass through the room, the library stands witness to the unfolding chaos. Dust motes, disturbed by the weight of the conversation, hang suspended in the air like transient memories. The ambient firelight, filtered through the stained glass windows, casts a surreal glow on the troubled face of a man who desperately tries to escape the consequences of his actions. The words create ripples in the stillness of the library, a transient disturbance.

His fists clench, and with a roar of frustration, he lashes out at the mirror. The impact shatters the haunting reflection, the fractured pieces falling like a cascade of broken memories. Aemond, panting and wild-eyed, stares at the shattered remnants of the mirror as drops of his blood stain them all an angry, bloody red.

ON A DARK, EERIE MORNING, Aemond decides he will seek refuge in combat training with Cole. The rhythmic clash of steel on steel promises a momentary escape from the haunting of his tormented mind. In these fleeting moments, he clings to the hope that the precision demanded by the dance of death will anchor his thoughts, keeping them disciplined and resolute.

But the training ground transforms, and the air shimmers with the echoes of unsheathed swords. In the midst of training, Luke materializes. The world blurs as Aemond's gaze locks onto his nephew's phantom form, the arrogance etched upon his face mirroring the smirk that haunts him. A tempest of confusion descends, and in the blink of an eye, he lunges forward, sword clashing against an illusion.

Reality slips away, and he finds himself ensnared in a mirage - a realm where the dead dance with the living, taunting them with all they have left. In the throbbing aftermath, the truth bears down on him like a relentless storm.

He killed him. The admission echoes in the hollow chambers of his conscience, overtaking him completely. The clash of blades morphs into a funeral dirge, and as he stands amidst the lingering consequences of his actions, the training ground transforms into a graveyard of memories. The air hangs heavy with the scent of remorse, and the phantom of Luke lingers, a silent witness to the torment that now possesses Aemond.

How he wills for his nephew to leave him alone. How he wishes he could turn back time, to a day when his wife was happy with him, when he was not the object of repulsion in her eyes. How he wishes she would welcome him with open arms again...

But why would she, uncle? Why would she, when you have slain her twin and taken me away from her? Her true other half?

He swings his sword once more, the blade cutting through the air with a desperate force. Each slash is a fervent plea, hoping that the slashes would tear up the ghost of his bastard nephew to ribbons that fly away with the wind. Even in death, his nephew is a stain on his life that refuses to let him live in peace. First his eye, now his wife.

Her place is by my side, uncle. And by killing me, you only reminded her of that.

The echoes of Luke's haunting words reverberate through the empty training ground, as Aemond battles not only the illusions before him but also the relentless demons within. The weight of his actions, the echoes of his nephew's voice, and the damning truth merge into a haunting symphony that accompanies each swing of his sword, forming an enemy much more dangerous than the Blacks that he’d sworn to kill.

The air is thick with the acrid scent of remorse. Aemond's movements become more desperate, as if trying to carve out a safe haven from the phantoms that encircle him. The blade slices through him, yet Luke's voice persists, an unyielding reminder of the havoc wrought upon not just his life but everyone’s around him.

Amidst his violent dance with illusions, Aemond longs for the solace that has eluded him since that fateful day at Storm's End. His sword becomes an extension of his anguish, a vessel through which he hopes to banish the nightmares that torment his every waking moment. The words resonate, mocking his attempts to escape the repercussions of his actions.

Aemond's grip tightens on the hilt of the sword, the struggle etched across his face as he battles the intangible. The illusion persists, refusing to be vanquished, a testament to the indomitable force of guilt and regret.

He lowers his sword and the ghostly echoes of Luke's voice linger. The training ground falls silent, a wave of unresolved grief as Aemond grapples with the realization that, even in death, his nephew remains an inescapable presence in the twisted tapestry of his existence.

Luke smiles once more, and Aemond slams the tip of his sword into the gravel, watching it fall to the side as he screams. Luke’s reflection is a sharp image on his blade, but when he looks up, the ground is empty, save for a worried mentor that watches him from the side. What must he do to gain solitude again?

The air in the training ground seems to thicken further as Aemond walks away to put his sword aside. The haunting memories of his past misdeeds cling to him like a shroud, and the distant echoes of Luke's words continue to reverberate in his mind. The once-familiar grounds feel like a journey through a desolate and forsaken landscape as he somehow registers the distant sounds of Cole calling out his name in worry.

As Aemond picks up the sheath, he senses an eerie silence enveloping the surroundings. The wind carries whispers of his regrets, and the atmosphere is charged with an unsettling energy. He looks up to see his wife standing at one of the windows, her gaze fixed on a seemingly endless point beyond the horizon. The pain of a fractured marriage weighs heavily on his shoulders, and his arrogance, once a shield, now crumbles under the weight of remorse.

Their eyes meet, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. He reads the emptiness in her eyes, an emptiness that reflects the void he has created between them. Aemond's heart sinks, realizing that his mistakes have irreparably damaged the bond he once took for granted. The echo of Luke's haunting voice intertwines with the desolation that surrounds him.

She is his, but he does not want to have her like this; unwilling. Unable to withstand the haunting gaze, Aemond turns away. The clang of metal against metal resonates in the air as he sheathed his sword. The once-sharp blade now feels heavy, burdened with the weight of his own sins.

Before he leaves, compelled by an unseen force, Aemond looks up at the tower once more. But this time, it is not his wife who meets his gaze. Instead, the window frames the ghostly figure of Luke, staring back with fear etched on his face. Before he can further contemplate the vision, she is right there again, looking away. With the many sightings of Luke that he is subjected to, Aemond is not fazed anymore. But he is once more reminded of how similar his nephew and wife look in fear. He does not like seeing her this way.

A shiver courses down Aemond's spine as his gaze meets the ghostly visage of his nephew. Before he can avert his eyes, the apparition transforms into his wife, each manifestation carrying an accusing, sorrowful, and frightened expression. The visions alternate with unsettling speed, a haunting dance where Luke and his wife exchange places in the blink of an eye.

Aemond is unnerved by the rapidity with which the pair appears almost indistinguishable, their features blending into an eerie resemblance that sends chills through his soul. The accusatory eyes of Luke and the sorrowful gaze of his wife interchange with a disorienting fluidity, leaving Aemond trapped in a whirlwind of regret, fear, and a gnawing sense of the uncanny.

He walks away, steps definitive and terror-struck as he steps into the tower. The silence is deafening, broken only by the echoes of regrets and the distant wind. Aemond, haunted by the consequences of his actions, contemplates the surreal encounter. The armor-laden grounds, once a place of training, now serve as the stage for the haunting manifestations of his past. The ghost of Luke remains and so does his remembrance of a happier wife - who, for reasons he cannot fathom, reminds him of his biggest mistake. A constant reminder that redemption may be forever out of reach.

THE WORD HOLDS TOO MUCH EMOTION than he can bear to pour into his voice, but he says it all the same.

“Wife.”

As Aemond approaches her, he takes in the sight of her, a weak vision of House Strong's distinct features marked by dark hair and blue eyes. The vibrant happiness that once defined her has been replaced by weariness, one that seems to have settled into the very core of her being.

Her brown hair, once a shiny cascade, now hangs in loose tendrils, lacking the luster it once possessed. The dim light highlights her fatigue, revealing the toll that the sorrow of losing her brother has taken on her. The lines etched upon her face speak of countless nights spent wrestling nightmares and the strain of unanswered questions. Her eyes, once bright and expressive, now carry a perpetual sadness and seem to bear the weight of all her losses.

Does she grieve for them too? For their marriage? For him and all the time they’ve lost?

As Aemond gathers the courage to approach, he can't help but feel a pang of regret for the role he played in casting this shadow over the woman he once knew and still loves. The air around her seems heavy with declarations unmade, the room echoing with the quiet desperation of a fractured connection that he is grasping at to mend. Aemond, yearning for reconciliation, steels himself to bridge the gap that has grown between them, hoping to heal not just their relationship, but her as well.

She turns to look at him, the faint moonlight from the window hitting her face as she assesses the man that stands before her. Not her husband, no - Aemond knows how she looked at him when she loved him. Now she simply stares through him, understanding that it’s her brother’s killer that she is facing. He doesn’t know what hurts him more - her grief, or her cluelessness.

She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t walk away either, empowering him to take a few steps further. He reaches out to her and takes her hand, and smiles by the corner of his lips when she doesn’t grab her hand back.

“Are you… well?”

The idiocy of the question while he sees how tired she is does not escape him, but in all honesty, she has him tongue-tied. Aemond has missed her touch, and simply getting to hold her hand again has set a fire ablaze in him that he cannot seem to quell.

“As well as one can be, considering the circumstances.”

Time stands still as he takes in the sound of her voice, hoarse from not having said much in a long while. His mother tries with her, but even the Queen can’t make his grief-stricken wife budge - she would stay until she couldn’t, leaving his wife to her thoughts. What could she say to make things better anyhow? I’m sorry my son killed your brother? I’m sorry you’re caught in a war that is not of your making? I’m sorry you cannot look at your husband with anything but disdain?

He is rendered well and truly silent as he tries to measure her feelings, but she beats him to it as she speaks again - addressing the elephant in the room as quickly as she is able. “Are you here to apologize for murdering my brother?”

“It was an accident.”

He knows he shouldn’t be arguing, but what was he to do? He’d let the world speak cruelly of him and brand him a kinslayer, but he cannot have his own wife hate him so. His defense of his actions only seem to spur her further as she pushes her free hand into his chest, and he holds onto her hand tighter, unwilling to let her go like she wants to.

“Don’t demean yourself by justifying your venom, Aemond. You have hated Luke your entire life, and I’d rather you not make years of hatred seem like nothing in your pursuit to make a better name for yourself with me now. You’re well past that, valzȳrys.” She spits out the last word, making him feel hurt and horrendously out of place. husband

“You don’t believe me.”

“You killed him!”

She sobs, her tears making it very clear that he is a lot less in her eyes now than he used to be. He fights the urge to scream, to hold her by the shoulders and shake sense into her. He wants to remind her that he is not what she thinks him to be, and that he genuinely would never do anything to hurt her. But he has. And he is now facing the consequences of weighing the choices and choosing wrong. How he wishes he’d simply let Luke leave - Aemond had won, why didn’t he?

Her sobs echo in the strained silence, the air thick with the weight of unspoken grievances. In a moment of raw vulnerability, she hits him square on his chest - each strike of her closed fists carrying the weight of accumulated sorrow, an outward manifestation of the tumultuous emotions that have festered within. Aemond, initially taken aback, winces.

Yet, even as the blows intensify, Aemond doesn't recoil. Instead, he envelops her in a desperate embrace, a gesture born not out of defiance but of a shared longing for understanding. The chamber becomes a battleground of emotions, the struggle to make sense of their fractured marriage playing out in light of all that has taken place.

“I want to hate you so much.” She says, the words choked out as her voice comes out muffled. Her lips are branded onto his chest as she mouths the words over the leathers he wears. “I want to. You’re a monster, that's all I see. I hate you so much.”

He pretends to not hear any of the damning words, for fear of hurting her in the anger that they rouse in him. She looks up at him, and all he wants is to crush her in his hold as he feels the anger creep up on him. But what she says next knocks the wind out of him, reminding him of why he has taken the trouble to come here to try and repair their marriage.

“But I love you all the same, and I don’t know if I hate you or the love I hold more.”

It is all the confirmation he needs. She is not out of reach just yet. Aemond, grappling with the weight of her words, feels a heavy tension in the air as her lips remain pressed against his chest, the muffled admissions still hanging in the space between them.

As she lifts her head, her eyes, red and swollen, meet his. Aemond sees the internal conflict etched into the lines of her face, torn between the desire to loathe him and the persistent, undeniable love that refuses to be extinguished. He remains silent, understanding the gravity of her admission, aware that any response from him could tip the fragile balance they are trying to restore.

In a moment suspended between resentment and longing, she tentatively reaches up to touch his face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jaw. Aemond, still holding back the urge to speak, feels the warmth of her touch, a gesture that speaks volumes. Then, as if guided by an invisible force, their lips meet in a hesitant, exploratory kiss. It is not a fiery embrace born out of passion; rather, it is a delicate connection, an attempt to bridge the emotional distance that has grown between them.

And then Luke surfaces, yet again.

He holds her tighter and kisses her deep, his tongue begging for entrance as he fights the ghost of Luke, staring right at him as he tries to make his wife forgive him. With every movement of their joined lips, he refutes his dead nephew’s words. He is hers, and she is his. From this day, till the end of their days.

Not Luke’s. His.

“Mine,” he mumbles in between kisses. Over and over until the blasted bastard’s spirit hears and lets him live. But why should he, when Aemond did not offer him the same courtesy? “You’re mine. No one else’s.”

“What?” He doesn’t answer her murmured question, not quite ready to make her privy to the haunting of his mind by her twin. He does not want to let him ruin this moment for them, not any more than he already has. His hands involuntarily find her skirts, pushing them up as he lowers his lips to kiss her neck.

The skin of her thighs are as soft as he’d remembered, his hands relishing in the touch as it disappears under her dress. She clings to him, a slight whine escaping her lips as his fingertips graze her skin, holding onto her backside as he lifts her up effortlessly, feet carrying them both and pushing her into the nearest wall. The kiss is never ending, and he’d not have it any other way.He presses into her, his hands holding her by the hip so tight that he’s probably bruising her, but he is too far gone to care. He needs to prove his nephew wrong, and with each moment he believes he is closer to vanquishing the ghost of the Strong pup from his consciousness.

“Take me,” she says. He hears her, but he is not quite sure he is listening. However, he does as she says. He has wanted this for long, having missed her touch for long, having missed her wanting him for long. He has wanted this for too long to do anything otherwise, and so he does. He growls as he bites her neck, while she unlaces his breeches and lets his cock spring free. The weeping tip is erect and stands proud, and he hopes she can see what she could have had in the time that she pushed him away. No matter, she’s here now.

He is taken aback by how tight she is, how warm and inviting she is despite it all. Her wetness engulfs him as he thrusts into her, making up for wasted time. With each thrust and with each moan that she lets out, he hopes and prays that their marriage will endure - but the phantom of his nephew is never ending as he refuses to fade. Aemond claims her as is his right, but as he does, he realizes his true goal is to simply remind the ghost in his head that she is his, and no one else’s.

“Mine.”

She leans into him, meeting his forehead with hers as her hair falls around them. Her panting breaths and heaving chest has him in a tight chokehold, and it almost keeps him from being haunted by her twin. Almost.

She peaks with a shuddering moan, and as she falls into him - limp and willing - he chases his pleasure. He brings her down to stand and mindlessly thrusts into her as he chants mine, mine, mine over and over again and when he does spill in her, he wants to be able to only experience pleasure, and nothing else.

Surely his mind is playing tricks on him, or Luke has simply taken over Aemond in a capacity far beyond his control - for he is certain he sees him in her eyes for just a moment, taunting him and reveling in his misery.

The memory hits him like whiplash, and it is all he can think of.

Aemond’s hands encircle her delicate throat, pressing her frail form against the unforgiving stone wall, as though he intends to merge her essence with its cold surface. The echoes of her labored panting reverberate in the air, a desperate struggle for breath, while he, consumed by an unrelenting force, cannot cease his actions.

Her blue eyes roll back in agony, and the veins on her neck stand out more prominently than usual, appearing blue in certain lights and green in others - details he might have discerned if not blinded by rage and madness.

He sees clearly, he always does. But in this moment, the intensity of his anger clouds his judgment, rendering him as blind as he is perceptive in moments of calm. Her pallor intensifies, and her hands futilely attempt to pry his fingers from her skin, seeking reprieve - he wants to let go, but he cannot. How could he?

His nephew has haunted him for years, much like the famed phantom of Harrenhal. Luke may have only been nine years of age when he took Aemond’s eye, but it has wielded a malevolent influence throughout his journey from boyhood to manhood. It has been the root cause for a lot of what he’s done - right from marrying her, to now killing her so she can join her brother wherever he is.

He needs to banish the haunting memory of his nephew from his tormented consciousness. He wants so badly for the words to stop playing in his head, weaving a harsh thread of thoughts that he cannot seem to find his way out of. Her life hangs by a thread, one that he stretches taut until she snaps.

As much as he resents acknowledging it, perhaps Lucerys was right. He isn't killing her; he is merely guiding her to where she belongs, by his side. “Aemond…” Her plea is feeble, choked, and nearly devoid of a voice. “Husband, please…” He hears his sweet wife’s last words, but he refuses to listen.

As the light in her eyes slowly dims, he watches as she struggles to keep her eyes open. Her hold on his choking hand loosens and loses its fight, and she gives in. It is almost as though they are back to how they were, in the days when they were happier, and his hands had been around her neck in much more sensual moments - always just enough, never as tight and deadly as this.

She looks almost peaceful in this state, in the last moments where she’s accepted that she has outrun her course. He cannot have her this way, does not want her this way - where she fears him and what he has truly become; where every moment that she looks at him with mixed emotions, he is reminded of his nephew and the day he died.

Cursed bastard.

Her once kind smiles, the very essence that once distinguished her from her twin, have undergone a haunting transformation. Her face has since been etched with an unspoken terror, a fear that clings to her like a shroud of impending doom. Every glance she casts seems laden with an eerie anticipation, as if she is poised to deliver a fatal blow.

In those harrowing moments, the resemblance between them becomes a grotesque mirror, reflecting a likeness he cannot bear to acknowledge. The weight of her presence - his presence - is suffocating, an unsettling reminder of his own recklessness. He cannot afford the luxury of a wavering mind, not in the midst of a relentless war that demands his unwavering focus.

This connection has become an unbearable burden, stoking a fury within him that knows no bounds. All he craves is the dissolution of his nephew's haunting memory, an obliteration that refuses to comply with the confines of his subconscious. Instead, it lingers, an ominous specter that shadows his every waking moment, intensifying the horrors that plague him day and night.

And then, her breathing ceases.

The chilling realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave, dragging him into the abyss of his own making. The haunting echoes of his nephew's voice, the relentless specter that had tormented his every waking moment ever since the fateful day at Storm’s End, had finally ceased. However, the newfound silence is shattered by the ghastly thud of her lifeless form crumpling to the floor, unleashing an eerie force that wraps its tendrils around his soul.

She seems liberated from the oppressive shackles of fear and her lifeless face descends into an eerie calm that chills the marrow of his bones. In death, she appears more tranquil than any moment he witnessed in life since her twin’s passing. The grotesque disparity between her and Lucerys’ final moments sends a shiver down his spine, the air thick with the stench of regret and the palpable weight of his transgressions.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out to touch her slowly chilling forehead, pressing a sorrowful kiss upon it. The chamber becomes suffocating, the air thickening with an oppressive calm that clings to the shadows. In that macabre stillness, a chilling certainty takes hold — Lucerys will no longer haunt him, but the cost is etched in the lines of his lovely wife’s lifeless face.

As the reality of his irreversible choice seeps into his bones, a haunting question claws at the edges of his conscience: Was the liberation from the phantom of his nephew's influence worth the mad ending of his wife's life? The Seven bear witness to another one of his kinslaying crimes and the heavy silence that follows - a testament to the darkness that now envelopes his soul, as the shadows of the hearth themselves seem to recoil from the stench of blood that stains the very fabric of the air.

Now the twins are together in death, by each other’s side.

Aemond is free.

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MASTERLIST

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songsbygumi · 3 days

Text

Don’t sit down ‘cause I moved your chair

| Megumi x reader

Summary- "Expect the unexpected; Kugisaki and Panda are on a mission to get Megumi and you together. The two times, Nobara and Panda set you two up, and the one time they didn't need to do it."

Warnings - reader use a skirt, use of Y/N one time, poor english, one mention of the pronoun her I think its just once I can change it tho.

A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP.

Panda didn’t mean to snoop on Maki. I mean, come on, he was just chilling in the classroom waiting for the class to start when Maki barged in, shouting something like, “At this point, we should lock her with Fushiguro in a closet and hope she makes a move.” It took Panda less than five seconds to figure out that the 'her' Maki was talking about was you. He watched Maki leave the room, still clueless about his presence, chatting away with who he thought was Yuta on the phone.

Panda didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now that he knows, he has to tell Kugisaki, right?

“I think Y/n likes Fushiguro,” Kugisaki eyes widening as she connected the dots in her head. Everything suddenly made sense: how you get all flustered around him, how you always save him the last juice he loves at breakfast and give it to Inumaki to put it in Fushiguro's usual spot, how your face slightly drops when he mentions the date he had with the girl from the coffee shop, your eyes going soft when he talks, and Maki always trying to pair you two up for training. “I think they'd be a great match,” Panda adds, and they both grinned.

You have been waiting for an hour now outside the cinema. Fantastic Beasts is about to start, and Panda isn’t responding to his phone. You were supposed to meet here after spending your day at the shopping center.

“Hey Panda, I am at the entrance. The movie starts in fifteen minutes; you should hurry.” This is the fifth voice message you have left him. With a sigh, you turn your head to the street to see if you can catch him making his way to the theater, and that’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” you froze. It couldn’t be. You turned to face him. “Hi,” you blurted out, realizing Megumi Fushiguro stood before you, looking as gorgeous as always, his school uniform replaced by jeans and a hoodie. “Panda told me to let you know he couldn’t make it, but we can still go in if you want,” he offered.

You nodded following him inside, feeling like a little kid. “Ye...ah, cool, fuck Panda” you muttered behind him.

Did Panda invite him without telling you? Does Panda know about you liking him? You couldn’t say for sure.

“I didn’t know you were into Harry Potter,” he remarked, waiting for you. “Yeah... I’m kinda obsessed,” you admitted, blushing a bit, earning a chuckle from Megumi. “I'm kinda obsessed too,” he revealed, grabbing the tickets. You smiled, appreciating his easygoing vibe.

“I’m paying you, just let me know how much I owe you,” you say as the employee hands him the tickets.

“Don’t worry, Gojo sensei gave me enough to buy this whole place,” he says, brushing it off. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Yeah, uhm sure,” you said, swallowing hard, gathering the courage to keep talking.

“You like Harry Potter too, movies or books?” you wonder, not daring to look at his eyes.

His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Are you kidding? Books, of course,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Which book is your favorite?”

After a moment of thinking it, he responded, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Incorrect” you said playfully, grabbing the popcorn and moving away. “What do you mean incorrect?” he asked, looking amused. “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is right there” you argued, making him laugh.

You held the popcorn a bit too tightly, struggling to focus on the movie. You knew you were doing a bad job because by the end of it, you couldn’t remember a single thing besides Megumi's profile in the light.

As you walked back to school, chatting and feeling more comfortable, you found yourself agreeing with every single opinion of Megumi, encourage him to keep talking about it just because you didn’t have a single clue about what happened; you’ll have to see it again.

Later in your bed, you can’t help but think that maybe talking to Megumi Fushiguro wouldn’t be as difficult as you thought. Maybe you should keep doing it because talking with him was better than just staring at him from afar.

"Maybe you two should go together," Kugisaki suggested, smiling at her idea. Maki raised an eyebrow as she looked at you “It’s fine,” you said aloud. “I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t mind, of course, if you want, Fushiguro?”

Panda managed to hide a satisfied smile from you, but Maki's suspicious look caught him. “Sure thing, I’m down for it. It'd be nice not to deal with a crybaby while hunting for books." he remarked mockingly. “I’m not a cry baby!” Kugisaki protested, and you chuckled at the argument unfolding in front of you.

The library turned out to be smaller than expected, but your eyes lit up at the sight of shelves filled to the brim with books. The soft lighting and the background music of an Arctic Monkeys song made the atmosphere cozy; you could move here in a heartbeat.

“You weren’t lying when you said it was pretty,” you commented, turning to see Megumi standing casually, hands in his pockets, shrugging with a smile. He had a smile that could melt hearts. God, someone needs to make him stop smiling like that at you; he’ll kill you one of these days.

“You haven’t seen the best part” he said, taking your hand and leading you upstairs, making your heart race.

The second floor was packed with even more books, stacked everywhere, and inviting chairs that looked perfect for long reading sessions. It was like stepping into a book lover's dream. “This is amazing,” you whispered, caught up in the moment. Megumi wore a proud smile, happy to share this hidden gem with someone who appreciated it as much as he did. He kept holding your hand for a moment longer, feeling a warmth spread in his chest, before letting go, leaving the pleasant sensation behind.

“Oh my god, look at this Pride and Prejudice edition,” you said, admiring the gold engravings on the cover. “Oh, is that Heartstoppers?” you exclaimed, passing the book you previously held to Megumi.

"If you asked Kugisaki or Panda, they’d say they had never seen Fushiguro smile so much before. He was admiring you from behind, helping you hold the books you picked and reaching the higher manga shelves without complaining. "Looks like it’s going well.” Panda said a bit too loudly, breaking the calm atmosphere. Fushiguro's head turned, and they held the books they were 'reading' higher to cover their faces. “Shut up,” Kugisaki scolded him.

You didn’t notice, too busy looking at all the books, but seriously, did they think Fushiguro Megumi was that stupid to not notice Panda? Whatever they were planning, he will make them spill it, but for now, he had to hold your books.

“Look, that’s one of my favorites,” he pointed with his head at The Song of Achilles, getting into your little bubble again. You took it without questioning him or the book, adding it to the pile.

III

You’ve been craving Matcha for a week now, and you’ve been begging Maki to accompany you to the coffee shop for days. and still every time she answers with "Not all of us are first-grade sorcerers, and yet you still need to practice for the exchange event, which is literally tomorrow."

She’s been relentless; dragging you out for early morning runs at five in the morning so you can practice your hand-to-hand combat skills before seven, insisting, “Your curse technique outperforms at long distance, but what if they get up close? You need to be ready.”

Despite your intense training, all you wanted was a relaxed afternoon sipping on a cold Matcha. Yuta would have easily convinced Maki, you thought, missing your best friend dearly.

“What’s with the long face?” Kugisaki interjected, sitting next to you on the benches, watching Maki kick Panda's butt. “Nobody wants to get Matcha with me,” you pouted. Kugisaki’s brain starts working, but before she can offer to go with you, a male voice interrupts, “I'll go with you,” Fushiguro beats her to it.

"Really? You don't have to," you replied.

“Nonsense, we're friends, right? I enjoy spending time with you; you're better company than all these clowns,” he says, and you barely caught the rest after "friends."

Okay, that hurt a little. Your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts as you studied Megumi's expression. Of course, he doesn’t see you as more than a friend; he's so cool, and you're... well, just you. Why is he staring? Why is no one talking? Oh yeah, right, “Sorry, yes, we are. So, see you at five at the entrance?” you blurted out, snatching your backpack filled with clothes and some of Maki's weapons before rushing off, "Bye."

...

“What if I don’t go?” you contemplated twenty minutes before your scheduled friends date with Fushiguro.

“He didn’t do anything wrong. How is he supposed to know you want more than friendship?” Maki questioned, resting on your bed.

"Whose side are you on?" you retorted.

"Yours, but let's be real, you're being a tad irrational. Slip on the blue skirt and just go."

Megumi Fushiguro wasn't quite sure why he arrived early, but he felt an inexplicable urge to see you sooner; waiting longer was out of the question. And it was worth it, seeing you in that blue mini skirt and oversized sweater, a shy smile gracing your face as you spotted him. You looked even cuter than usual, he considered.

“Ready?" he questioned.

"Yeah, let's go," you affirmed, beginning to walk alongside him towards the coffee shop.

The café bustled with activity; it seemed like everyone had the same Matcha cravings as you did. Navigating through the crowd to reach the cashier proved challenging, but you preferred the subtle movements over pushing people or raising your voice to get through.

You were focus on not inconveniencing anyone when two hands settled comfortably on your waist, guiding you forward and providing a shield against the bustling bodies.

You held your breath; even through the layers of your sweater, you could feel the warmth emanating from Megumi’s hands. Finally reaching the cashier, he removed one hand, leaving the other on your lower back. "Hey there, what can I get you?" the cashier's words snap you back to reality.

“Uhm...” damn it, did you forget how to talk?

"One Matcha latte and one black coffee to go, please" Megumi says watching you struggling.

"Sure thing, regular milk?" you shook your head in disagreement. "Almond milk, please," you requested. The cashier nodded, and before Megumi could reach his wallet, you’ve already paid.

“That’s not fair,” he complains; you had to get your eyes checked because you thought you saw him pout.

“It’s fine, don’t worry; you always pay” you reassured him, moving towards the other end of the counter, Megumi's hand still lingering on your back.

"Hey, Megumi," a girl called out from the opposite side of the counter. She was strikingly pretty, flashing a wide smile at Megumi, her attention fully captivated by him until she noticed you a moment later. "Oh, sorry, hi," she acknowledged you, then shifted her gaze back to Megumi, noting his proximity to you, and her smile faltered slightly.

"Hey, Katsuki" he greeted back.

"You haven’t been around lately as usual" Katsuki remarked.

“Yeah, been busy with school stuff," he explained, his free hand casually brushing his neck.

"You haven’t replied to my texts either" you felt like an intruder in a conversation you shouldn’t be in.

“Sorry, it has been crazy lately,” he apologizes. Another employee calls for your names, and you swiftly grabbed your drinks, offering him his coffee.

"I'll wait outside if you need a moment," you informed him.

"No, it’s fine," he says to you, moving his hand to find yours. "Sorry, Katsuki, I swear I’ll text you back tonight. Take care," he says, guiding you through the crowd.

Outside the café, silence lingered for a moment. "A bit overwhelming with the crowd for you, huh? Feeling overstimulated?" he teases, smiling, to which you nodded. "Let’s go, I know a spot you'll love." He took your hand again, and a surge of electricity seemed to buzz between your palms. If he felt it, he didn’t mention it.

It had been week’s full of mixed emotions; you had countless questions swirling in your mind, but for now, you chose to give in the comforting and welcoming presence of Megumi Fushiguro.

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