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#i have so many thoughts on him and why he's the way he is and why he does the shit he does
itgetzweird08 · 2 days
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“You shouldn’t be up this late”
Bakugo’s voice whispered, filling the silence in the dorm kitchen. He was right, and usually you weren’t. You valued your sleep, often being one of the first in the class to call it a night. But tonight was different. Your thoughts, your heart, was restless. Despite following your nighttime routine, which was curated specifically to help you wind down and rest, you still found yourself tossing and turning. Not even your ocean sounds could help you drift to sleep. Thats why when Bakugo spoke, you sighed heavily and let your shoulders droop.
“Yeah. I know.”
He took a few steps toward you, leaning against the countertop. “So what’s got you awake?” You shrugged at him, watching the water in the electric kettle begin to form small bubbles. “Dunno…just can’t sleep I guess.” You looked over to him, taking soft note of his tired eyes and disheveled hair. “And you? You aren’t usually awake at this time either.” He shrugged right back at you. “Dunno…can’t sleep I guess” he echoed your words, and it made you smile just a bit.
You both knew why the other was awake, or at least you both had some inkling. Between how the ambush attack played out and Midoriya running away, neither of you have had time to really process all of what has gone on. You haven’t had time to think about how your lives had been flipped one eighty. But since Midoriya was back safe and sound, and there was no real information on the League or their next move, everything was at a standstill. That meant your brain was finally coming up to speed on what had gone on recently…and it was overwhelming. It felt like your mind was in over drive, thinking so many thoughts at once that it was causing you to lose sleep.
“…There’s a lot of water in this kettle. Would you like some tea?” Bakugo didn’t answer, just walked over to the mug cabinet and grabbed both of your designated mugs. Yours had your hero insignia, and he had his. It was Nezu’s Christmas gift for all of the hero course students. Bakugo opened the tea drawer, grabbing you each a packet of sleepytime zen tea before walking back over to you. You worked in silence then, enjoying each other’s company as you made your own cups.
Your relationship with Bakugo was unique. You admired him, even when he was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the school year. You’ve enjoyed watching him grow and working beside him as a teammate. You were inspired by his tenacity and drive. You liked how smart and witty he was, and how he could be funny even when he didn’t realize it. It also didn’t hurt that he was actually pretty cute. And all of the same things went for you in his eyes. He admired your kindness and your courage. He was inspired by the way you had such a big heart but you were no push over, standing up to him when he got too rough with his words or during training. In his eyes, it was like you were one of the only people to give him a chance, getting to know him past his rough exterior. You two had gotten closer during the year, training and studying together sometimes. You began to sit next to him for lunch, stealing small pieces of chicken from his plate while he stole beef from yours. You were the only one with that privilege. Eventually, you became this unlabeled, unspoken thing. You didn’t have to confess your feelings because he knew, and you knew how he felt about you even if he’s never admitted it.
You softly sipped your tea, allowing the warm liquid to run down your throat and causing you to sigh. He stirred his own cup, watching the spoon go around and around. Technically, there was nothing else for you two to do in the kitchen. Technically, you could’ve parted ways right here and drank your own cups in your rooms. But you couldn’t bear to leave him. Deep down, you both didn’t want to be alone tonight.
“Bakugo?” He looked up as you said his name. “Could I sleep over in your room tonight? I don’t think I want to be alone”
All he did was scoff, pick up his mug and began walking towards the staircase. When he realized you weren’t following, he scowled and turned to look at you.
“Let’s go brat. I’m missing out on my beauty sleep”
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Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 day
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Hiii first of all i love you work like ALL OF YOUR WORK!! 🤍 second is can you maybe do a Mafia Lando request? i was thinking like lando & reader got into a huge fight and lando snapped at her and left but came back home with so many bruises like he went on a fight and doesn’t want reader to know cause he hates seeing her cry but she still found out and helped him clean his wounds and eventually they talked it out forgave each other.
Im sorry if its too much, its been sitting on my mind for a while and i was just too shy to ask 😭 if you do it, thank youuu ily!! if not then its ok!! hahaha 🫶🏻
A/N: Mafia Lando? Good excuse to use the cutting his nose thing now hehehehehehe
"You're home late," Lando jumps about 10 feet in the air, hearing your voice come out of the darkness of the living room. "Jesus, the fuck you doing sitting in the dark, baby." Lando turns on the light and freezes seeing your dressed up.
"Why you dressed up, have a hot date?" Lando jokes, sliding off his jacket, exposing the two guns strapped to his chest. "Yeah, was supposed to have an anniversary dinner, but my date never answered his phone," You snap, standing up as Lando's eyes grow wide. "Oh fuck, baby," He reaches out of for you, but you slap his hand away.
"No, don't baby me." You snarl turning to face your boyfriend who seemed slightly annoyed. "Y/n," Lando's voice turns just a little bit deeper, his eyes hardening on you. "Don't, don't you dare get upset with me Lando Norris, you forgot our anniversary, and you don't even seem to care, do you even love me? Because for a small second I thought maybe you're dead, or arrested or who the fuck knows!" You yell, wanting to throw something at his head, you're so angry.
Lando scuffs and rolls his eyes, "I forgot a dinner, Y/n, it's okay, I'll make it up to you," Lando rolls his neck, he didn't want to fight, he just wanted to lie in bed and cuddle you close, instead you were being a brat and arguing with him. "Jesus, I'm fucking tired Y/n, I don't want to argue with you, can we just go to bed." Lando snaps, eyes so angry and voice so dark it has you flinch back, Lando freezes seeing your reaction.
"Fuck," Lando curses, and turns around grabbing his jacket and storming out of the house, slamming the door.
-------------------------
"Shit," Lando sighs, nose busted across, bleeding a good bit, with his hands cut and bruised, a cut on his eyebrow and cheek bruised that it was almost black. "Sir?" Lando stops, seeing one of his people at his door and he knows he looks bad. Actually, he probably was going to make you cry, again.
Lando hated making you cry, it was like a stab wound in him each time he was the cause of those tears, he wanted nothing more than to be the one to cause you to smile, not cry. "Sir, she's still awake, and I don't think she should see you," Lando frowns, not liking that his guards knew you that well, even though he literally had them to know you that well.
"Thank you," Lando grounds out, and slips into the penthouse, sighing at the Monégasque night life, and the way you're staring out the window. Lando slowly steps but freezes when you turn and make eye contact with his bandaged-up face. "Lando," You gasp and rush forward gently cradling his face in your hands. "Let's go to the bathroom," You whisper, and he nods his head as he silently follows you to the bathroom.
Flicking on the light, you whimper seeing the full effect and Lando looks away, not wanting to see you cry. He hated when you cried, it felt like his heart was being ripped to shreds. You slowly undo the bandage and sigh in relief at the small cut but tsk slightly. "It might scar," Lando nods and moves sitting on the toilet as you slowly start to clean him up.
"I didn't mean to forget," He whispers, voice froggy from how dry his throat is. "I know, I shouldn't have yelled," Lando chuckles and pulls you close, ignoring the sting in his hands. "You had the right to yell, it's me that shouldn't have yelled," Lando whispers and you hum softly and place a soft kiss on his forehead.
"Let's just watch movies, as I nurse you, I just want you home, safe," Lando nods and hisses as you place the ointment on his hands and gently wrap them. "You might be a big bad mafia boss, but to me, you're just my Lando, just be my lando," You whisper, kissing him gently as you rub the bruise. Closing his head he nods, melting into your hug as he remembers, he doesn't have to be the mafia boss, with you, he just needs to be here.
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“Thou Shalt Not Covet.” // Angel!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Human!Reader
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Summary: An angel's duty is to protect and guide humans; never to desire them, for it is a sin. Yet Aemond, the most trusted angel of God, finds himself yearning and desiring for you, a human.
WARNINGS: nsfw, mdni, smut, dubious consent(?), afab! human!fem!reader x angel!aemond, masturbation (m.) unprotected p in v sex, tiddy sucking, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f. receiving), forbidden relationship, body worship, blasphemy(?), creampie, cumming inside breeding kink, slightly disturbing content at the end, religious themes. + NOT PROOFREAD
WC: 4.5k
A/N: so I'm officially breaking my hiatus with this piece, I know I haven't posted for over two months and I apologize for that! Exams and everything practically ate my life away! // divider creds to @cafekitsune
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God's most trusted angel, Aemond Targaryen, was no ordinary angel. He was sincere, always performing his duties without fail. He was respected amongst his peers, the most obedient angel of god.
Lately there have been rumours about the curse of being God's favourite, whispers about the old tale that all knew very well started resurfacing, the tale of the fallen angel. An incident that is now used as a way to warn angels from disobeying God and trudging the path of temptation.
Must all angels that were favoured by God fall into the way of sin? It has happened before, it might happen again.
Aemond decided that he would never be like that, he wants to prove that he is nothing like the fallen angel and how being God's favourite angel is not a curse, but rather a blessing.
And he did just that. Until a day arrived when he was sent to the land below on an urgent mission.
Aemond was reluctant to descend down to the land of people but he had to on the order of God, his mission was simple, to guide humanity through the famine that was occurring along with the drought that was caused by the devil to wreak havoc amongst the villagers. Messing with God's treasured creations has always been the devil's hobby after all.
And so he disguised himself as a human, helping men, women, children alike to recover, he blessed the land with fertility so that the land could produce crops once again. It was not an easy task, he had spent many weeks on the land, learning how humans function and go about their life which was quite a contrast to angels.
He also learnt how frail the human body is, how much energy is required to perform tasks and an unfamiliar feeling of hunger which he never felt when he was an angel. Every sensation was new to him but he overcame all the difficulties in order to finish his duty.
At least, that is what he had thought…
“Ser?! Are you okay?!” A voice shrieked in shock as he blinked his eye open to see an unfamiliar face with the look of concern staring down at him. You noticed how pale his face was and how dull his features looked, his lips were dry and chapped.
You were just taking a walk through the forest in search of medicinal herbs when you encountered this man lying unconscious in the middle of the path which made you panic thinking he was dead. You sighed in relief when he opened his eye.
“What happened to me?” He asks confused and you furrow your brows, “You fainted.” You tell him and he sighs “Why? I have been eating well though.” He mutters to himself and you clear your throat, you noticed how his face showed signs of dehydration earlier so you end up asking him a question “Did you drink water?” to which he replies with a “No, why?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose in disbelief, “Water is an essential thing to survive, you fainted because of dehydration.” You explain his situation to him and he lets out an annoyed sigh, “Ugh, why are human bodies so frail and require so much material to sustain oneself?” He grumbles and you stare at him confused.
“Whatever, drink this.” You give your pouch of water and he drinks it greedily unknowingly, emptying the entire sac, he hands it back to you. Aemond tries standing up but immediately stumbles, however you catch him just in time so he doesn't fall. “It seems the dehydration was worse than we thought, my house is nearby, let me take care of you.” You offer him help and he just simply nods, “Lean onto me okay?” You instruct him and he does as you say. You lead him to your house.
It was a small house amidst the woods but not further inside, you opened the wooden door with one hand and pushed it with your foot and led both you and the man inside. You opened the door to your small bedroom and took him inside, helping him lay on the bed.
“Please rest comfortably.” You smile at him and he nods, “I will go and prepare medicinal tea so you can recover.” You inform him before getting up and reaching the exit.
“Wait!” He calls out and you turn around with a questioning look, “May I get your name?” he asks politely and you give him a small smile, “It's Y/N” You tell him and he smiles back at you, “ ‘Y/N’ such a pretty name.” He mutters to himself before looking at you, “Thank you Y/N.” He appreciates you genuinely which makes your heart flutter and you give him a nod. “What is your name?” You ask out of courtesy “Aemond.” He replies with a slight smile and your eyes widen, “Oh like the angel!” You affirm and he nods, “Like the angel, yes.”
“You have such an amazing name, that too it being after God's favourite angel.” You compliment him genuinely and he nods shyly. You take that as a cue to leave the room and prepare the tea for him.
Tying your beige apron; you quickly pull out the jar of dried hibiscus petals from the wooden shelf before taking a few of the petals and grinding them slightly, you added those grinded petals into the bot of boiling water and let it simmer for a minute before blowing off the fire and straining the liquid into a wooden cup.
You carry the hot beverage into the room only to find Aemond asleep, ‘his body must've been overly worked without any water’ you smile to yourself before placing the cup down onto the table, the slight noise startling and waking Aemond up from his slumber.
“Oh I apologise, I did not know that the noise would startle you.” You say in a slightly amused voice and he shakes his head, “It's alright.” he replies. “I bought the tea, you can drink it when it cools down.” You point at the cup on the table next to the bed and he nods, “Thank you.” He appreciates your hospitality.
You give him a small smile and he returns it, and then the room falls silent, awkward tension filling the air. You clear your throat in an attempt to break the tension before speaking up “So… I've never seen you around this area before or in the town, are you new here?” You question him.
“Mhm, I just recently got into this town after hearing the news of famine spreading here.” He answers truthfully, he had been going around the area into multiple villages and towns, solving the famine.
“Ah yes, there has been a shortage of food supplies since our land did not produce any crop this year.” You say sadly, thinking about how all the once healthy people in the town now look starved and unhealthy because of the shortage of food.
Aemond notices your sadness immediately and he grabs your hand, wanting to reassure you but the moment his skin comes in contact with yours, he feels electricity shoot up his spine that makes him retreat his hand immediately.
“Are you okay?” You ask concerned, reaching out for his hand. His breath hitches when you touch him, you examine his hand thinking something happened to it, all the while he's trying to control his breathing.
Why does his body feel hot when you touch him?
He gives you a quick nod and pulls his hand away from your grip and grabs the drink in order for the gesture to not seem rude, but luckily for him you don't dwell on it too much.
“Famines and Drought occur when the devil wants to mess with God, something he does for attention while thousands of people are affected.” Aemond grits his teeth, thinking about the reason why many humans are dying and you look at him confused, “And in these times of difficulty, many forget to pray, because all of their time is spent surviving, which further weakens the protection of the land.” He continues.
“So what do we do?” You ask confused.
“Pray, I was going to go to the centre of the village and start praying so that the rain falls tomorrow, but… I ended up like this.” He says embarrassed.
“Do you think God will really help us?” You question and he's shocked and offended by that question but he holds his composure, “He will. Have faith in him.” He tells you and you nod.
“Since you said you were new, you are free to stay in this house, besides you need to recover as well.” You offer him and his eye widens, “I can't, you've already done too much for me.” He refuses but you shake your head, “It's alright aemond, I was starting to stray from the path of God due to the recent problems, but after meeting you, I'm somehow comforted that everything will be alright, a feeling which I haven't felt since the start of the drought.” You admit honestly and he stares at you in awe.
And so you let him stay in your house.
You and Aemond have gotten undoubtedly closer, realising how you both held the same values and opinions, you helped Aemond spread the word of God and soon just like he said, the rain fell and the land began to recover.
You both were currently looking outside the window as the gentle drizzle of rain fell elegantly outside, making the lush greenery of the trees stand out and the smell of wet mud provided a deep comfort to your soul.
“You were right, Aemond.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, using his angelic powers in his human body exhausts him out, especially since the body of the human is so frail and weak, so he often has to recover in your house, but you just thought that it was because of dehydration like the first time.
You looked outside in awe, meanwhile Aemond stared at you instead, your face extremely beautiful as if you had been specially crafted by God himself, your eyes shone as brightly as the stars in the night sky and your hair that cascaded down your back like a waterfall. He couldn't stop admiring you.
He watched as your lips parted when you let out a satisfied sigh, wondering how they'd taste, would they be sweet as they look? He wanted to taste you.
His eye widened in realisation at his own behaviour and thoughts, mind spiralling down a hole knowing that he shouldn't be thinking this way, his closed his eye and took a deep breath, trying to push off all the feelings away but when he opened his eye back again, he was faced with you who looked at him ever so concerningly.
The warm feeling in his heart only growing stronger each and every moment. “Aemond? Is everything alright?” You ask and he nods, “Yeah everything is fine, it's just..” ‘I wanna kiss you.’ He wants to say it so badly, “I just feel under the weather.” He lies.
He lied.
Aemond never lied.
You find it odd but brush it off and leave the matter at that, focusing on the rain outside once again watching as the droplets trailed down the window.
Aemond feels hot on the inside, a burning sensation of itchiness that urges to be scratched, he excuses himself and goes into the bedroom, saying he needs rest, once again, a lie, he shuts the door to the room and you're left alone in the living space.
Deciding not to think much, you began cooking lunch, making soup for the hundredth time.
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Aemond leans against the door, breathing heavily as his body grows hotter and hotter every moment, there's a weird sensation between his legs that makes it hard for him to focus on anything else, he looks at the bulge in his pants and touches it, wincing at the electricity that shoots through him.
It's painful.
He knows that whatever he's feeling is wrong.
But it's too painful to bear.
He closes his eyes trying to collect himself but he cannot contain himself, and so he slowly grabs the bulge giving it slight squeezes for it to stop the feeling but not enough to make it go away.
Why is the human body like this?
Why couldn't he control his desires like he did when he was in his angel form?
He slowly pushed his hand down the material of the breeches and held his cock, he grips it which makes him choke out a moan at the sensation.
It felt good.
And so he slowly starts stroking it up and down, curiously experimenting by brushing his thumb against the tip which causes him to whimper, he clasps his own mouth shut at the noise he made but doesn't stop stroking himself.
Muffled noises of soft moans fill the room as he touches himself wondering why the feeling isn't going away, he strokes himself faster which causes him to throw his head back against the door with a loud thud.
“... Aemond?” Your voice makes him stop all of his movements, “Y-yeah?” He replies, trying to sound normal, “I'm making soup, is that okay?” You inquired for his opinion and he replied a choked “Yes.”
He hears your footsteps walk away from the door and he continues to stroke himself, the memory of you calling out his name doing wonders to his imagination as he pictures you moaning his name beneath him, he rubs himself faster, grip tightening on his cock envisioning that he's fucking into your cunt instead of his own hand.
And before he can comprehend the imagery; he feels an immense amount of pleasure shoot through his entire body, making him see white and let out a loud muffled moan of your name o as he feels the wet liquid spurt out of his cock and onto his hand.
He's trembling by the time he's done, looking down at his now unclean hand, white liquid dripping down his palm, the situation of what he had done weighing heavily upon him, the feeling of dread seeping into his body- and so he lets out a soft sigh.
What has he done?
He quickly finds a cloth to wipe himself off and uses the water in the bowl beside the table to wash his hands, he sees his own reflection in the water, feeling disgusted at what he had done.
But it felt so good.
He quickly leaves the room to find you crouching down, tending to the fire as you prepare the soup on top of the heated slab. “Need help?” He asks and you flinch, looking at him with a flushed face, “Hm? O-Oh no need.” You look away quickly. He frowns wondering what happened, you stand up and reassure him that nothing has happened and push him towards the table to sit down. You slightly rub your thighs to ease the tension between them.
You couldn't focus; After all- you just overheard what he did inside the room, the muffled moans, the strokes, and when he called out your name. You heard it all.
The wooden doors aren't really good at covering noises.
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A few days passed by quickly after that, the town began to see changes as the crops began sprouting quickly, and soon Aemond's mission was finally completed. Which meant he had to return to the heavens.
But he did not want to.
He actually feels guilty returning to heaven after what he did with his human body.
He was slowly putting his clothes away, ‘packing�� to leave when the door opens which reveals you. Your eyes glance over to the sack of clothes and you quickly realise what's happening.
“You're leaving.” It wasn't a question, but rather a statement which leaves your lips weighed heavily with sadness. Aemond felt something inside him crack as he looked at your solemn expression.
“I have something I want to confess before I leave.” He speaks up and your eyes glint with hope, wondering if he'll confess his feelings to you finally- “I'm an angel.”
“Aemond, now isn't the time to be joking.” You furrow your brows but he shakes his head, coming closer to you and holding your hand, “I am not, I came here on a mission to solve humanity's problems and now I have to return to the heavens.” He can't stop speaking, no matter how much the voice inside him tells him that he shouldn't be revealing his true identity to humans. “Aemond, this is not funny-”
“I'm not trying to be funny, I am not lying, here I'll prove it to you.” He lets go of your hand, and moves to the window, and your eyes widen as the sudden sunny weather darkens and rain begins to fall.
You shall not reveal your identity.
You shall not flaunt your powers.
“Is that enough for you to believe me?” He asks and you're shocked, “Are you really..?” You question and he nods. The air shifts and you realise that you're in a heavenly presence which makes you scared- “Be not afraid.” He tells you and your breath hitches in your throat.
He moves closer to you again, caressing your cheek, “I'm telling you all this because- I don't know, I don't want to leave you behind.” He admits truthfully. “But if you're an angel, then we can’t-” You try to speak, but he cuts you off, “I know.”
“Truth be told, I have no idea what it is about you that made me hold such feelings towards you, but all I know is that I want you, I desire you, I need you.” He grips your shoulders, hands digging into your flesh.
You must not seek out a human.
You must not engage in worldly pleasures.
The atmosphere is filled with silence and tension as you look down, unable to form a sentence as your thoughts feel too complicated to process and Aemond just stares at you.
‘Do it.’ he hears a voice at the back of his head.
‘You want her, so do it.’ It encourages him.
‘If you want her, you must claim her.’ It's evil.
‘But I have to return to the heavens.’
‘Will you truly be happy in heaven?’
‘I'm not sure.’
‘Without her? Will you be able to continue to live without her?’
‘I do not know..’
‘If you do not claim her, she will fall in love with another mortal man, will you be able to stand it? Watch down from the heavens with the realisation that she was never yours?’
‘But I must not, I will soil myself, I do not want to give into the worldly pleasures.’
‘Hah, you're a fool, do as you wish, just remember that once you leave, she will never be yours, she will belong to another man.’
‘Stop.’
‘-She will be touched by another man, kissed, caressed, hugged, all the things you want to do to her'
‘Stop.’ Aemond tries resisting the anger that fills him when he imagines another man touching you.
‘She will get fucked by another man, and you'll watch it happen.’
“That's enough!” Aemond screams which startles you, “Aemond?” He looks at you, and your eyes widen when you realise something in his eye has changed, his pupil resembles that of a reptile. “What's wrong—” You're cut off from your words as he presses his lips against you, electricity courses through your body when you feel his soft lips against yours.
His lips move messily against yours, and he tastes just like honey, you try to resist wanting to tell him that this is wrong, and rationalise that he'll be cast out from heaven if he engages in intimacy with you but you aren't able to form coherent words because of the way he's constantly cutting you off with messy kisses.
“I want you, I need you, I can't let you be with any other man other than me.”
You're conflicted on whether you should encourage this but you remain silent, and aemond takes your silence as an agreement, he slowly slides off his robes and fully shows himself naked in front of you.
He's working on your clothes next, pulling them off you in swift motions before you're left standing bare just like him, he cups your cheek and tilts your face towards him, “Aemond… you'll be punished.” Your voice is laced with concern. “Look at you.. Always concerned for me, it doesn't matter anymore, I've made up my mind.” He pushes you towards the bed and onto it before climbing on top of you.
He places the soft pillow below your head for comfort before he trails soft kisses on your face, down to your neck, breasts and stomach.
“Beautiful, my beautiful lady.” He mutters against your skin, pecking and pulling it between his teeth. “Your body is so beautiful, your frame, everything about it is so beautiful.” He praises peppering kisses being placed on your breasts. He watches in awe as your nipples harden and poke up, and so he wets his lips before opening them and taking your nipple into his mouth, sighing softly in satisfaction.
His tongue swirls around your nipple, playing with the bud and flicking it up and down, the suckling noises that leave his mouth are sinful that makes you wet down there, you grind up against him to feel at ease.
The room begins to get hot and your small gasps and whines fill the air, accompanied by his grunts of satisfaction, that he finally got to touch you like this. He leaves your breast with a pop before focusing his attention onto the other one. “Aemond…” You wail and he looks at you, “... need you down here.” Those words leave your mouth unexpectedly as you rub your clit and he immediately listens to you letting go of your breast.
He travels down until he's directly faced with your cunt, he watches in amusement as your essence drips out of your hold which he licks up and brings up to your clit and suckles on it. “Hggnh!” You arch your back in pleasure as you feel tingles all over your body, your cunt pulsing around nothing when you feel his tongue play with your clit.
He nibbles on your clit, his teeth slightly poking it which makes slight pain shoot up your body. His tongue moves up and down, from your hole to your clit, he sucks on the flaps of your cunt harshly that causes you to whimper.
You feel his finger prodding at your opening before he slowly pushed it inside, “Fuck Aemond!” You let out a whine when you felt how his finger was stretching you out whilst his tongue worked magic on your clit.
He slowly pumped his finger in and out, letting you adjust to it before pushing another one inside which made you shriek but he hushed you with a kiss to your clit, and soon enough- the slow licking of your bud and the pumping of his fingers made you reach your peak. You clenched your eyes shut at the impact of your orgasm; feeling as if your whole body was set on fire, you saw plain white as your whole body quivered because of him.
He pulls his face away and draws back his finger only for him to put his fingers in his mouth, loving the way you tasted. He climbed upward until he was face to face with you and kissed you, making you taste your essence.
“So beautiful.” He says softly as he sees your dazed expression and messy hair, the way your lips are parted slightly as you take deep breaths.
He couldn't contain himself anymore.
He wasted no time in lining himself against your entrance and slowly pushing inside, you gasped when you felt how big he was, but you didn't stop him but instead held onto his shoulder as he pushed it inside inch by inch.
His hair cascaded around his face, making him look angelic, he closed his eye; gasping for air when he felt you clench around him. The way your walls were wrapped around him drove him insane; he couldn't hold back any longer as something in him cracked, his pace was messy and fast, almost desperate as if he was waiting his entire lifetime for this.
The sound of thrusts echo in the room as he speeds up, your back arches in pleasure when you feel him hit a certain spot inside you, his hands grip your waist as a leverage as he constantly thrusts deep and deeper inside you.
He feels like he is in heaven again, the feeling of you finally being his and how you're squirming underneath him, moaning his name, not anyone else's.
“You feel so good.” He grunts, “so fucking good— my love.” he places a kiss on your breast, before looking at you once again, your eyes staring directly at him. The sight of you beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist as you try to grind into him, indicating that you want him too makes him go feral.
His thrusts soon become sloppy, he knows he's gonna finish in mere moments, so he angles his thrusts upwards— hitting your sweet spot multiple times— making you see stars when you peak.
He's almost blinded when he feels his orgasm hit him, the intensity of the sensation being way too much to handle, he lets out a loud moan as he slowly rides out his orgasm all the while pumping you full of his seed.
He pulls out moments later and lays down beside you, trying to catch his breath, and you pull him closer for a hug.
Everything goes quiet for a few moments as you both try to recover.
Only for the silence to be broken by Aemond agonising screams.
“Aemond?” You panic not knowing what's happening.
Aemond feels as though his entire body was on fire, and then the flesh on his back distorts as his white angel wings spring out of it, you stand there in awe when you look at them, they're white feathers, but soon that emotion of amusement is replaced by pure horror when you see it be forcefully get ripped apart from his back by an invisible force of nature.
You scream in terror, while Aemond tries to bear the pain, he knew this would happen sooner or later, but he couldn't help but scream as the pain of having his wings ripped apart and pulled from his back is agonising.
Maybe the curse of being God's favourite was real.
And what Aemond is facing right now is God's punishment for trudging the path of temptation.
“Please- it hurts.” Aemond croaks in agony.
You feel helpless, not being able to do anything except watch, you just cradle his face, his hand grips onto yours tightly.
And soon it's done.
You could only watch as tears dripped down from his eye.
His once beautiful angel wings were ripped apart, the feathers all over the room and the only thing that remained of it were the scars of the wound on his back.
The scar that indicates the two wings were pulled out.
An angel without wings.
A fallen angel.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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luvlymiraaa · 3 days
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Pairings: connie x black reader
Warnings: smut 18+ Connie's a lil toxic, mentions of a gun, pretty angsty
pt.2 to birthday girl but can be read as a standalone
Miss you
Constance Springer. The man who was once the source of your happiness though recently the source of your frustration and headaches.
“I just don't get it, Con. You take me on these amazing dates, buy me anything that catches my attention, and say you wanna spend the rest of your life with me, yet when I ask to publicly announce we’re together, which I shouldn't have to, you always brush it aside.” You spoke as calmly as possible. Though considering this was the 4th time this week you were having this conversation your calm tone resembled shouting.
It had been five months since your birthday. Five months since Connie gave you the best gift you could ever think of. Himself.
The first four months felt as if you were on cloud nine. The entire duration it was as if you were conjoined at the hip. Connie had to make a couple of drops? There you were in his passenger seat watching a movie or using his card to pay for the large quantity of your cart.
You needed to go make up a missed exam? Connie was waiting in his car with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The only time you weren't seen together was if he was doing something he didn't want you involved in or if he was out buying you secret lavish gifts such as the car he got you a week after your birthday. Life was great.
It wasn't til you were at your nail appointment with Mika where she nearly cut you with her clippers from shock the moment you brought up your relationship with Connie, that you realized no one knew about it.
At first, you were confused. How could no one know? You were always together but the more you thought about it you started to understand. Whenever you were out he wasn't as affectionate as when it was just the two of you, just a few touches that could easily be considered friendly, but you just brushed it off as him not being comfortable with PDA.
Even when you went on dates he'd buy the entire venue or restaurant out so it'd be just you two or would plan the nicest dates at the house, either way, no one saw you on dates as a couple.
You thought about it for a while before it finally ate you up and you just had to ask. His response was the reason shit went left.
“Whatchu mean let people know we’re together? Ion want people in our business. I'm yours and you're mine, that's all that matters” He brushed it off with a kiss on your forehead before running to go get some eggs around the corner. He was only gone for ten minutes yet in that time frame you went through hundreds of different reasons as to why he responded that way.
At first, you were confused. Then, you were trying to reassure yourself he's right as long as we know then we straight. But immediately after that thought came anger why the fuck doesn't he want people to know? Am I the fuckin side chick?
By the time Connie came back you were fuming. You trusted Connie, the night he asked you to be his he promised you he'd never do anything to hurt you yet you couldn't deny how suspicious this was. He barely had time to lock the door behind him before you started with your questions.
“You cheating on me Constance?”
“What?” He almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned, looking at you as if you had said the stupidest shit ever which in his mind you did.
“You heard me. Are you cheating?” You followed him into the kitchen of his apartment.
“No [☆] I'm not cheating. I needa take you to the ER? Cause it sounds like you hit your head while I was gone”
“Then why don't you wanna tell anyone?”
“About us?”
“Duh”
“I already told you, mami, I don't want people all up in our business”
That was two weeks ago and you guys were nowhere near in a better place. By no means were you insecure. You knew Connie loved you and only you but you wanted others to know as well. It's not like you wanted to leak one of your many sex tapes on IG. You just wanted at least your friend group to know you were together. Connie wasn't having it though.
“Mama lower your tone” He groaned. Inked hands rubbing his face from frustration.
“Just tell me, Con. Why don't you want anyone to know?”
“Is it wrong to wanna keep our relationship private? I love you princess but you buggin’ for real. Drop it”
“You know what. Fuck this, nd fuck you too. There's a big fucking difference between private and secret.” You slammed his bedroom door. This was too much. You couldn't take it anymore; it was as if he was ashamed of you. You loved Connie, you really, really loved him but this hurt, the constant drop of your heart whenever he let go of your hand the moment you stepped out of his apartment complex or whenever a girl flirted with him in front of the group but there was nothing you could do. You were done. No amount of love could make you settle for anything less than you knew you deserved.
Despite your teary eyes you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing your bag, you packed as much as possible before finally exiting the room.
Connie was in the middle of rolling a blunt when he saw you walk out, he would have been convinced that his heart was lying on the couch when he stood up if it wasn't for the loud thumping in his ears.
“Where are you going?” He stood in your way
“Connie please move” You sniffled
“No, not until you tell me where you're going. Please [☆] lo siento, mami, por favor, no te vayas please don't go” His voice cracked as reality hit him. Dropping to his knees, his hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips.
“I promise to be better, I promise. I will call everyone on my phone and tell them about us right now, please don't go” At this point, you had to look away. His tear-stricken face and Spanish almost had you fold.
“We'll work this out ma, estaré mejor, lo prometo I'll be better, I promise”
“No, we can't Connie. Not right now” And with that, you left.
A month had passed so far. It was rough in the beginning. He blew your phone up 24/7 to the point where you had to block him. You couldn't eat, and whenever you did have the energy to stay awake you did nothing but scroll on your phone, your thumb always finding the photo album where you stored all pictures of Connie.
Sasha and Mikasa finally had enough, while Mika was the only one you told Sasha had a pretty good idea after she went to visit Connie only to find him in the same state as you, maybe even worse. Deciding you needed to leave the walls of your apartment and have fun, they finally convinced you to go out. Taking a couple of pregame shots while shaking ass in the mirror, your outfit leaving nothing to the imagination as you finally felt ready to face reality.
By the time you had arrived at the party, the drinks started to kick in and you grabbed the first sexy guy you saw and dragged him to the dance floor.
Unknown to you Connie was also at the party, standing in the corner as he made a few deals. He looked tired, and he was. The moment the door closed behind you he broke down. Ignoring all of the calls and texts he got from clients as he sat there. He was angry. Angry at you for leaving him but mostly angry at himself for fucking up.
When Connie finally caught sight of you it was as if someone had finally flipped the switch on throughout his body. His heart sped up, his posture straightened and his dick twitched at the sight of your body in the dress.
His dick wasn't the only thing twitching. When it finally registered to Connie that you were letting some random guy touch you as you whined on him, his eye twitched and his hand immediately went to his gun.
He was furious. With zero fucks he approached you, the barrel of his gun pressed against the guy who you were currently throwing it back on.
When you no longer felt the swaying of the man behind you, you turned to be met with the fear-frozen stranger and Connie whispering something in his ear. You didn't have time to ask what was going on before the guy scurried off and Connie roughly grabbed your arm, dragging you out of the house party.
Despite the fact you were no longer together and he had no right to drag you away, you stayed quiet. Connie rarely got angry but when he did you knew it was best to just stay quiet.
“Get in the fucking car [☆]” He threw open the door. You were convinced the thong you had on was completely drenched after those six words. His voice was low and threatening and you almost felt disgusting from how turned on you were. Almost. With one look into his rage-filled eyes, you got in the car, the door slamming behind you when he was sure you were safely in.
He quickly got in, tire tracks marking the ground as he sped off. It was silent for a minute before you decided to speak, once his grip on the steering wheel loosened and the color returned to his knuckles.
“Connie?” You faced him, eyes burning into the side of his head as he kept his dark stare on the road.
“Connie, come on. You can't just kidnap me and then not speak. Pull over and talk to me now” You huffed.
With a roll of his eyes, he pulled into a deserted parking lot.
“Hello? Either you get to talking or I'm getting out nd calling an Uber”
“No the fuck you're not” He groaned loudly, eyes meeting yours.
“Then talk” You borderline yelled
If Connie's hair was long enough to grip he'd have a couple bald spots from how frustrated he was. He gave you both time to cool down before he spoke.
“Look I'm sorry for dragging you away, and for threatening your lil boyfriend-”
“He's not my boyfriend”
“He's not?”
“No. Continue your apology” You rolled your eyes.
Your response had a smirk forming on his face. He missed you so much, even your attitude.
“I missed you ma. I'm sorry for dragging you away. I'm also sorry for how things ended.” He grabbed your hand.
“I now understand your feelings and your concerns and I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I was ashamed of you or if there was another woman. You're the love of my life ma, this past month has been pure hell. I need you baby. Please take me back.” His hands were shaking as they held yours securely. It was rare to see Connie cry, and the sight of his tear-streaked face made your heart ache. He really did love you.
Swallowing the lump in your throat you asked the one question that started it all.
“Be real Con. Why didn't you want anyone to know?”
With a sigh, he rubbed his facial hair.
“I was afraid you'd realize you could do better”
“What? What made you think that Con?”
“I sell drugs for a living, mami, I'm involved with a shit ton of dangerous people. I was afraid when others found out they'd start telling you things about me and you'd realize you can do so much better”
“Oh, Connie” You could no longer resist the need to be close to him. Maneuvering yourself so you sat in his lap you cupped his face as your eyes searched his.
“Papa there is no one better. I love you so much, Connie. There is nothing anyone could ever say to make me want or love you less because I know you. I know how much you care and love those around you. There is no one better, Connie.”
For some time, the two of you were wrapped in each other's arms as you faced your emotions.
When you both were calm, you finally dared to look into his eyes. The energy shift resembling the one from your birthday.
“Con” You slowly inched your face closer to his
“I'm sorry for all the hurt I put us through mami” His hand wrapped around your neck
“Déjame compensarte let me make it up to you” He closed the space between you.
It felt like the first breath taken after being underwater for a long time. You felt alive, felt loved. The once slow kiss grew into something more passionate. Both of you needy, as you fiend for dominance in the heated exchange.
Ultimately you lost the battle when his hands gripped your hips tightly as if to assure himself you weren't leaving again. It wasn't soon after that you found yourself in the back of his car with your legs resting on his shoulder as he drilled into you.
He littered kisses on your ankle as his grip on your hips tightened. His thick cock stretching you out had your eyes rolling back and moans of ecstasy coming out of your agape mouth.
“Yeah? You doing so good fa me ma. You miss this? Miss how good I fuck you?” His thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Connie” You whined. Attempting to push his hand away from the sensitive bud.
“Answer me princesa or ima stop” He warned
“Yes, Connie- mhmph I miss it so bad papi oh my god” Your velvety walls squeezed him tight.
"Fuuuck. Don't ever leave me again, you hear me? I can't take it, baby, I love you too much. T-try that shit again nd Imma make you watch while I put a bullet in between his eyes. Understand?” His pace increased.
God that shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. You were convinced you could have come on the spot, the added pressure on your carotids when you didn't answer immediately wasn't any help.
“Y-yes Con, I promise it won't happen again” You managed to say in between the moans and whimpers that you no longer had the energy to contain.
“Keep squeezing me, mami. I'm so fuckin close” He groaned, hand no longer on your neck as it rested against the steamy windows to stable himself.
The atmosphere of the car was pure filth. Your moans bounced off the windows, the sloshing sound of your wet pussy and slapping skin that created the creamy ring around the base of cock topping it all off.
His thrusts were slowly getting sloppy, you were just squeezing him so tight.
“C-Con” You managed to gasp out, the marks he littered on your neck to suppress his whimpers, having the coil in your belly tighten.
“I know mama, let go fa me” He groaned.
That instant you came, eyes rolling to the back of your head for a quick second as your cream and small spurts of squirt leaked from your pussy.
“Shit mama” He panted, dick twitching as he painted your walls with his cum.
Connie being the lover boy he was despite repeatedly denying it whispered apologies, and sweet promises into your ear as you came down from your high.
“I'm sorry mami, I promise to be better” He kissed you softly as if you were in a fairytale before whispering in your ear.
“But don't think just cus we're good now, that I'm not gon tear that ass up when we get home for giving that loser a taste of what's mine.”
I dont know how i feel about this one buuutttt all thanks to @masterofthepp for giving me this idea. Hopefully it meets your standards babes. As always any feedback is welcome. mwah
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twstowo · 3 days
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Kissing Their Foreheads [One Final Forehead Kiss]
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.
♡︎ Includes: Third Years
[First Years]☆[Second years]☆[Third Years]☆[Here]
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After your long journey of kissing each of your friends, you find yourself in the same spot where you had found Ace at the beginning of the day. The spot is empty now, Ace long gone after his pitiful display. You only wanted to give him a sweet forehead kiss! Why did he even have to behave the way he did? Couldn’t he just have accepted your affection?
You sit down on the bench, the soft evening winds caressing your skin. The moment feels peaceful as you finally stand alone at the end of such a busy day.
You are aware that Ace knows about your little adventure; not long ago, you sent him a message, and no one is surprised he ghosted you! You were inches away from blocking him! No! Maybe you should tell Riddle about the rule Ace broke last week! So many good ideas, but you simply roll your eyes at his behavior. It’s almost the end of the day; you shouldn’t be getting worked up after him.
“Henchman! I have been looking for you the whole day!” You hear Grim as he jumps on the bench. You watch him as he complains about the lack of cans of tuna, and then you remember the most important thing. Something you should have thought about long before.
Grim, he hadn’t received a forehead kiss yet! How could you have been so blind?
“WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU-” As you take hold of his face, you give him a forehead kiss, a well-deserved one.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
“For how long are you going to stare at your phone?” Deuce’s voice comes from behind Ace. In fact, he had been staring at your message for the longest time ever with an annoyed expression. He knows that at this point it just looked like he had ghosted you, but he simply didn’t know what to answer. “Just tell them that you liked their forehead kiss!”
For more than Ace wants to snap at Deuce and tell him to shut up, he knows that he is right. At this point, he is the one acting like an idiot. He sighs as he slowly starts typing, but everything he writes sounds way too sappy for him. There is no way he can send any of those messages.
Ding!
He hears the message sound as an image pops up in front of him. It’s you hugging Grim and below the message reads: ‘My favorite forehead kiss!’
As slowly as possible, he closes his phone and lowers it down. “That damned cat…”
“You lost to a cat??”
“SHUT UP, DEUCE!!”
@hotaru57 @takimarasukido
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gay-dorito-dust · 24 hours
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Hi! I'm just curious how aventurine would react when he caught his partner or crush looking at him and when he asked why, their reply would be that they like his eyes?
Aventurine has noticed that you have been staring at him for a while and had it been anyone one else he wouldn’t question it much, assuming that they knew him and his face due to his ties with the IPC; however since it was you who was looking at him, Aventurine found himself wordlessly adjusting his clothes and the watch on his wrist as though his life depended on it.
He wondered what about him could be so fascinating for you to be staring at him as though he hung the moon, the stars and the constellations and their well known tales of triumph and tragedy.
To Aventurine there wasn’t much about him to admire in the same way you did now and he secretly wished you didn’t look at him the way you did because it made him think that -by some miracle- he had a chance with you.
He was a loser, a hopeless loser, a pathetic liar, a shallow man born without a heart to spare the smallest of sympathies to another person going through turmoil. He didn’t deserve the soft admiration of your eyes on him, nor the way your lips would form a smile directed his way, at least that’s what he thought.
So one day when he caught you looking at him again, he decided to act on his curiosity and ask in hopes that some questions he had lingering within his head would finally be answered.
Why did you look at him as though he gave life meaning? Like he was the only thing in the known universe and why did you always smile at him when he couldn’t even bring himself smile at his own reflection in the mornings?
‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at me recently,’ he begins, a cheshire grin spread across his lips as he closes in on you. ‘So I’ve come to ask what about me seems to have you captivated these days?’ Aventurine awaits for you to tell him that you weren’t actually looking at him but more or less what he was standing in front of or-
‘Your eyes.’ You responded almost immediately and without shame, cutting the blonde from his overthinking as he looked at you with wide eyes, the smile slipping from his face.
‘Come again.’ He says.
‘Your eyes,’ you repeated, ‘I really like your eyes, they’re so pretty and so unique to you.’ You finished, not once ever looking away from his eyes as they stared back at you with an array of conflicting emotions that clashed before your very eyes.
‘My…eyes…’ aventurine trailed off as though this was all new to him. ‘You like my eyes?’ He questions as he looked at you for answers.
You look at him with concern, not having seen this side of him before. ‘Yeah I thought I already said that…why is that a bad thing to admit?’ You asked him this time as you both sat in somewhat awkward silence.
‘No, it’s not.’ Aventurine chuckles after a while, genuinely smiling to himself. ‘It’s just that I’ve heard that being said so many times before but when you say it, I truly believe that you find my eyes beautiful.’
‘Of course your eyes are beautiful.’ You said as you placed a reassuring hand on his and squeezed reassuringly. ‘I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t find them to be remarkable, one of a kind and breathtaking simultaneously.’ You tell him all the while looking into his eyes, yes they were dull but that didn’t stop you from loosing your breath every time they looked directly at you. No words could express the feeling you get when looking into his eyes, and it saddens you greatly because you wanted nothing more then the tell Aventurine just how you felt about his eyes and about him in general.
Aventurine didn’t know what to say to all that, he really didn’t, his brain had gone blank, he was suddenly without a voice and his face was flustered to the high heavens from your words alone. How was it that you could be this sweet and be so casual about it too, maybe this was something he wouldn’t understand until far later in life, where he was older and far wiser then he is now.
So all he does is squeeze your hand back in kind and smiles softly as he says. ‘Thank you, I find your eyes pretty remarkable too.’
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dark-and-kawaii · 2 days
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Hello 👋 I’ve been wondering who do you think out of the tieflings is the most addicted to pussy.
Well howdy („• ֊ •„)੭ *waves back like an idiot*
Ohhhhh I see I see, well I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about this before and the answer always comes up the same even now!!!
✧˖° *drum roll* Rolan. Rolan is so obsessed with your sweet cunt, the poor thing just can’t get enough of it… Please expect to be absolutely sore when first getting with this man, it might take him a while to get comfortable and actually have sex with you… But oh man, once he does there’s really no stopping him and his magical cock. I SAID WHAT I SAID!!!
Rolan x F!Tav/Reader
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Not many would ever believe or think that Rolan has a high sex drive, but it was true. He’s always ready to take you in his arms and pin you against whatever surface that’s available. Hells, the floor works just as well.
The tiefling has never been with anyone else prior to you, so he doesn't know what a healthy sex drive is, only having heard from others and once the topic came about he’d usually just turn away.
Rolan doesn’t really understand why he loves being buried inside you so much either, maybe it’s because you’re the first person he’s ever been with, the first person he’s ever had a true romantic connection with. Maybe it’s the way you sound when he sheathes himself deep inside you, the way your gummy walls clench around him begging him to never pull out, to spill deep inside you and paint your walls white. Or maybe it’s the way you look at him through half lidded eyes, the tears in your eyes from all the pleasure only he can give you. All Rolan knows is that he hates being away from that warm body of yours for too long.
He also knows that he likes watching you get all shy whenever his eyes trail over you, you turn into a cute little puddle when he kisses and nips at your skin. His tail flicking up that dress of yours before slipping it past your undergarments.
Loves when he gets you like that, he knows he can do anything to you, you would let him have his way with you in every which way. Rolan knows this , and he has taken advantage of it before, but he knows how to treat you right. And he knows what will make you tick.
So, whenever you try to play the bratty card and deny him, he takes that as a challenge, he has to show you how much of a good girl you can be for him.
You know it's a trap, you know it is, but the second he whispers in your ear and you feel his tail slowly caress up your thigh, “Be a good girl for me and I promise I'll treat you right. I'll be nice, you like it when I'm nice don't you? Let me take care of you baby, just let me, and you'll see, you'll see how much better it can be.” You just couldn't help yourself, and he knew it.
Despite all the times you two have made love, and he’s pinned you for his pleasure he is still a bit shy when it comes to foreplay, mostly due to the nails he has being a tiefling and all… He’s terrified that he’ll lose control and quite literally cut up your insides. That’s when it was your turn to enjoy the blushing mess he turns into when trying to figure out what to do next.
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Every time I read an anti-Bucktommy take it's like they don't understand what they're watching. Like, no understanding of how fiction works at all and a criminal lack of media literacy. And also unable to follow a simple story.
A tv show like 911 will never be like their favorite friends to lovers fics where everything they want to see on-screen is made into words, every little thought, every gesture is described in a flowery way, every single line is doctored to fit the fandom's expectations, using very specific tropes. This is fanwork, this is our business, we love it, we cherish it but this is our stuff.
911 is a tv show. It'll use many types of tv writing techniques to get to the point while having to deal with budgetary constraints, marketing needs, political restrictions and more. Could they have done a better job with reintroducing Tommy? Absolutely. Does it work as it is? Of course, if we're actually looking at what and how they tell on-screen.
A (long) BuckTommy timeline.
🚁 7x03 - Tommy and Buck meet on the day of the rescue, even before we see Buck, Chim and Eddie in the chopper. They first meet off-screen. We don't know what happened then, we don't know how they looked at each other, if they smiled at each other, if they even talked directly to each other. But they met before we see them in the chopper.
We know by what happens later that Tommy makes a strong impression on Buck (who is already in the middle of a real life crisis). We can also assume that Tommy is attracted to Buck based on his looks (and probably also affinity, they do the same job, never underestimate the homoerotic power of male camaraderie), something we also understand later, so it works (but also, the way he looks at Buck at the end of this episode is a subtle hint.) Don't forget that writers know in advance things we don't, that's why we can go back and find the breadcrumbs we didn't notice before or couldn't make a connection with yet.
🔥 Buck wants to know more about Tommy and his work. This is where you, as the audience, should fill the gap based on what we saw before and what comes next. This is where you should be able to do that instead of wanting everything on-screen the same way you put everything in a fanfic. This gap you fill because you're supposed to understand how average tv storytelling works leads to the following point.
🚁 7x04 - Buck contacts Tommy, he gets to visit Harbor. At this point, we can clearly see Tommy is acting flirty in a very subtle and respectful way, because he doesn't really know what's the deal with Buck, but remember the way he looked at Buck in 7x03? Then there's Buck acting... weird. What's his real purpose here? And this was before he even knew Tommy and Eddie were BFF, so Buck was already attracted to Tommy whatever his connection with the 118 crew, even if the real reason was blurry even to Buck himself.
🔥 7x04 - Tommy is now someone they interact with regularly. Tommy is now slowly working his way (back) into the 118 group. He finds a good friend in Eddy (strangely I don't see anyone questioning that. How is that easier than having a simple, passive crush?), apparently spends a lot of time with him, and knows Christopher because he went to Eddie's house 3 times. Eddie definitely knows more about Tommy than Buck at this point.
🚁 7x04 - Buck is clearly troubled by Tommy. Then there's this whole jealousy circus going on, Buck is a mess, his insecurities are breaking the roof and he's more troubled than ever. Is he jealous of Eddy or Tommy? Or both? (it's both) He wants to be the center of the attention. If he feels he's losing this, people will discard him. So he does some stupid shit. And you can see his feelings are also all over the place. But there's more than just fighting for attention, and that's probably why he's slowly starting to be angry. Because what he feels is different and he can't put his finger on it.
The discussion with Maddie clearly shows how he's chewing on his own heart. He didn't want what he had to change and he acted like a kid with big feelings and little control of himself.
🔥 7x04 - Tommy, who's having a passive crush on Buck, takes the matter in hands and kisses him. Tommy having a crush is not less normal than Buck flirting with basically any cute girl showing interest in him. Being more mature, he meets Buck to set things straight, after having talked about it with Eddie. It's not out of nowhere. Eddie and Tommy are not stupid, and Eddie knows Buck. He saw something was wrong. Tommy, being the new addition to their dynamic, thought it was his fault (I think Eddie and Tommy really felt guilty about going to Vegas and leaving Buck just like that lmao That was so bad for Buck's confidence, I felt it in my bones). Excuses turn to clearing the air turn to let's go for it.
Tommy really took a gamble there. If Buck wasn't what he thought he was, it could have been so bad. So, so bad for Tommy and his job. Imagine Buck accusing Tommy of assault? But he took the risk of kissing him because he has more experience and knows how to read the signs. He's not 15, he has experience with men, and closeted men for sure.
And you know, this is a beautiful scene for Buck as a character. The way he realizes why he did all that, what it means about him, for him. I mean, he knew, in a way, but he didn't know. And Tommy was suddenly everywhere in his life, overwhelming while doing nothing. You have to understand that everything is happening in Buck's head and he needed just a little push to open his eyes.
Buck's queer path: unlocked.
🚁 7x05 - First date, first mess but also first lesson. At this point, you can't even doubt about Tommy's intentions anymore. Buck might still be in a blurry phase but Tommy is not sending mixed signals at all (not with that choice of shirt, let me tell you this. My man was set to hit that night). Buck panicked, Tommy even tried to keep him on tracks for the evening, but between meeting Eddie and what it made Buck say... I mean, Tommy could have had a stronger reaction. Why accept the date if you can't deal with it?
But Tommy knows why, he's been there. Buck liked the idea of the date, but once you're there, everything becomes real. So once again, a little push: Tommy is honest and prefers to part ways, but not without saying why. He's not even mad. At this point, Buck really needs to take another step. It's difficult to drag someone else into your own fog. He has all the rights to be troubled, to doubt, to be scared, but you don't drag someone else in this with you. Tommy protected himself from that, also protected Buck from doing something he'd regret, and he did it with guidance.
🔥 7x05 - Buck talks with Maddie about his date and comes out to her, but more importantly: Buck comes out to Eddie. Look. This is canon, and I know we can choose to ignore canon but both scenes are great. And it's still canon. Maddie is obviously accepting and happy for Buck, and we expected no less from her.
With Eddie, I honestly expected at least some discussion like are you sure? or something like that but I think that at this point, everyone at the 118 knows that there's more to Buck than meets the eye. I'd have loved this scene to be longer with more exchange between Eddie and Buck but it is what it is, and Eddie is supportive of his best friend (yes, sorry, their canon relationship is best friends and I love their friendship, even more now that Buck is out).
And yes, this is even more important to show not only a strong friendship between a supposedly cishet man and a bisexual man but also, and we'll see that later, Eddie still trusts Buck around Chris. Nothing changed. So many people associate queer people with predators, we need to see queer people, and especially queer men, being trusted around children, and being safe. This is the right representation.
I know bvddies are trying to find any reason to make this storyline choice look like shit, because they want their ship to sail (and I completely understand wanting that), but accusing the people who like Buck and Tommy together of being homophobes because they cherish the canon beautiful friendship between Buck and Eddie?? We're not talking about headcanons here, about reading between the lines, or being "coded" a certain way (sorry, for me Eddie is not gay-coded. He's a-spec for sure, and I'm going for being demi, but gay? I don't see it anymore at this point of the show). It's about the canon. You know, at this point, things are already moving into place, even if you don't like Buck and Tommy together. This is where canon is at, this is the story. It's not a personal attack against anyone in the fandom.
🚁 7x05 - Buck wants to apologize to Tommy for the failed date, and for his behavior. Oh, accountability, my beloved. We love to see Buck working on himself. This is the real start of whatever will happen from now on between Buck and Tommy. Buck knows he's ready to embrace this new part of himself and he feels like Tommy is the right person to do that with.
Tommy being Tommy, he makes sure Buck knows what all this means. Buck is not a teenager, Tommy treats him as an equal but he also knows how it feels to be in Buck's shoes.
🔥 7x06 - Tommy, a responsible adult, makes time for Buck (and Chim!) even when he clearly could, and maybe should, just decline. This part was used way too often against Tommy by BoBs. Tommy is a fire pilot on call the night of the bachelor party. A FIRE PILOT ON CALL. Do you think his main goal that night is to have fun? Or is it to be a responsible adult who could well be saving lives (while risking his) the same night? Do you know what it means to be on call? You're basically working without being at work, the second your job needs you, you have to be 100% ready. Again, he's a fire pilot (even if he's also sent on ground work that night). His first job would be to pilot a freaking helicopter and accomplish tasks that requires skills, precision and to not be half asleep. You don't play with that responsibility.
So Tommy showing up is indeed huge. He does it for Buck, and for Chim, but definitely for Buck in the first place. He could have stayed home to get some sleep while waiting. Instead of that, not only he doesn't sleep but he ends up fighting a fire for hours. And the first thing people used against him was that he didn't follow the dress code?! No, you guys need to grow up and live a bit more of real life.
And then we have The Kiss (please someone draw them as The Kiss by Klimt, every fandom needs its Kiss fanart). And once again, it's Tommy making time for Buck, and Chim, when he could be home, take a good shower and be in his cozy bed after working on a fire for more than what, 14 hours? This is a man who knows his priorities. And responsible men are sexy as hell, even when it means they can't have fun like everyone else.
Now, if after all this, and mind you, this is all canon, you still think Tommy is a fraud in this storyline, that his budding romance with Buck has no foundation or that he doesn't care about Buck? And don't even get me started on the "but he was a racist and a misogynist before". Yes, he was. And yes, he changed. Like I said: learn to know his character, but also trust Hen. The fact is that at this point of the story, Tommy is great for Buck. He's kind, he's safe, he's trying even when there's no expectations. Be happy for great representation.
Oh, and don't use your hate against the ship or Tommy to be a nasty little shit with the actors and writers. Decency is free.
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1800-fight-me · 3 days
Text
Death and His Lady
Death!Aemond Targaryen x Female Assassin!Reader
Rating: E (Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
Warnings: Extreme violence, explicit smut, allusions to reader having prior trauma
Word count: Almost 6k
Synopsis: As the King's assassin, Death becomes your most trusted confidant, but his influence along with unexpected events lead you down a path you never thought you'd walk.
Author’s note: I have literally been so excited about this fic I can't even deal with it!! Here's another gothic horror romance vibez fic from me! Thank you so much @lauraneedstochill for the beta read! Also the new trailer has me freaking all the way out so here we go! This fic is a rollercoaster ride and I really hope y'all enjoy it!!
I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!
Aemond Masterlist
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You courted with Death in this endeavor, that you were certain. 
Death must be enamored with you, given how many times you have brushed against it. Once, Death held even you in his arms, his embrace warm, but you spun free before he could sink his claws in you. 
This time, you weren’t sure you’d be able to outwit him. 
Like a fox evading a hound, you toyed with Death, amused at his growing frustration at your continued escapes. 
If you’re being completely honest with yourself, you enjoyed being chased as much as you believed he enjoyed chasing you. 
But now, as blood spurted from your lips, your vision hazy, you thought you might very well fully succumb to Death’s clutches today. 
“No,” you groaned as the vision of him flickered in your view. 
White hair, pale skin, one eye of sapphire and one of violet, a jagged scar down his face, clothes of all black to match the black feathered wings at his back.  
He looked like an angel- the fallen avenging kind, and he smirked as he cocked his head at you, the promise of conquest in his gaze. 
There was a yearning deep in your chest, a desire to have his attentions on you and only you, a pull that left you intoxicated at the sight of him. Perhaps that was why you continued this game. 
It was one you could only ever lose.
The wooden chair you were tied to as the men mercilessly beat you groaned in protest from the backwards momentum of your body as your enemy landed another punch, blood spurting again. 
You were too far gone for quick witted comebacks, for speaking at all. Being the king’s most trusted spy and assassin was always a dangerous job, but one you flourished in. 
Today, however, was particularly dangerous it seemed. You couldn’t even remember what information the men wanted from you anymore. 
It didn’t matter, you would never give anything away, you’d sooner greet Death like an old friend than betray your kingdom. 
He flickered in your vision once again. His savage beauty was a welcome sight. Like a fallen prince. Like an avenging angel. Like your heart’s darkest desires. 
Perhaps it would be a relief to sink into his embrace, to give up, to cease the fight. 
His expression changed, no longer self satisfactory, no-  he looked angry with you as he strode across the dank dungeon to stand before you. 
Time paused completely and you let out a gasping breath of relief as fists paused from meeting your skin. 
He leaned down so his face was close enough that your nose nearly brushed his, like a lover would, but no- fury  filled his gaze. 
“Fight,” he growled at you. 
“I can’t,” you gasped. 
“You can and you will,” he ordered, “you will not give up and die. Today is not the day.” 
Some deep primal part of you woke at those words, at the steel in his tone, at his orders. And the rage and fury inside of him reminded you of your own and it filled you once more. Filled you to fight, to survive.
You would not lay down and die today. 
He smirked as he saw the change in your eyes. He brushed a whisper of a kiss to your lips, soft and swift enough that it hardly even counted as a real kiss, but it ignited a flame in you and when your eyes fluttered back open, he was gone. 
The tie around your wrists had been cut and as time started again, you caught the fist aimed at your face and you fought. 
You gave Death a tribute as your torturers met their bitter end at your violent hands. 
Maybe that was why he had always seemed willing to let you go, you mused, you were practically his handmaiden with the amount of souls you gave him, the amount of lives you ended brutally. 
You walked out of that dungeon battered and bloody, but alive enough to continue your game with Death, to live for another day. 
This game had gone on for years, but never once had he interfered the way he did today, never once had he prevented you from passing over into his realm. No, every other time it had been your own grit and guile. 
Today, Death showed his hand when he prevented you from dying. 
He enjoyed the chase as much as you did, that you were certain, and you were determined to continue it.  
————————————————————
You knelt before your king and the silver white of his hair brought up the memory of your obsession. They say that Targaryens are closer to gods than men. Your death god was testimony of that. 
Once, when curiosity won over practicality, you spend days in the royal library researching and reading about all of the Targaryen ancestors until you found a book weathered and brown from age that contained artist renditions and you found him. 
Your personal demon was Aemond Targaryen, rider of the legendary Vhagar, harbinger of death even in his mortal life. 
You read everything you could about his life, drinking in every aspect of his personality that you could learn about him. You were infatuated, perhaps even loved him after his actions to save you. 
Your king told you to rise and you reported to him the events of the past few days, leaving out details about your kiss with Death. 
The king’s looks were nowhere near the godlike chiseled beauty of his ancestor, you mused as he told you of your next mission. Although it’s not like you were one to talk, earlier as healers cleaned off all the blood and stitched up your cuts, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and had to look away from your bruised and battered form, you were nearly unrecognizable. 
“Rest for a few days, then take your leave,” the King ordered. 
“Yes, your majesty,” you bowed, then left the throne room. 
You retreated to your chambers and immediately tumbled into bed. Sleep took you swiftly and deeply, and like the night after every other near Death experience, he was waiting for you in your dreams. 
You asked him once how it worked, and he explained that the veil was always thin after your near crossovers, and he was able to influence your dreams. 
And influence them he did… you whimpered as his cock filled you to the absolute brim. 
He grunted and pulled your lips to his, tongue tangling with your own, and you wrapped your thighs around his trim waist pulling him closer, wanting him as close as possible. 
The angle changed and you shivered, despite the heat of his sweat slicked skin, as he hit the spot inside of you that made you forget anything but him. 
“Aemond,” you moaned and he stopped his movement, became still as Death. 
“How do you know that name?” He asked, his hand on the side of your neck as he pulled back enough to meet your gaze. 
His voice was low and cold, dangerous. 
You took a shuddering breath. 
“I researched, I needed to know more about the one who haunts me,” you said, putting steel in your voice despite your nerves. 
Amusement flickered in his expression, “I knew I picked the right woman.” 
“You probably say that to all the assassins you save,” you teased. 
He chuckled darkly and you clenched down on his length where he still remained inside you. 
His chuckle turned into a growl and he unleashed himself on you, filling you and your heart’s blackest desire. 
In the darkest part of the night his sounds of ecstasy tangled with your own until you both found release in one another, the type of release you’d never found with anyone else, and a feeling of comfort and satisfaction unlike any other filled your chest. 
With him, you felt whole, but that feeling dwindled as you woke the next morning in your bed alone. 
————————————————————
“Lady Death,” the pirate king before you said in an attempt to flatter you. 
His handsomeness was average, nothing exciting or remotely comparable to the sharp features of your devilishly handsome death god. 
His words clanged inside you and hit upon something true and vital. But, you could not show your reaction. 
“Skull King,” you replied, your lips pursed as you lifted your chin. 
He laughed, like a sword scraping over stones, and your hand drifted towards the dagger strapped to your thigh. 
“You are more beautiful than any descriptions I’ve ever heard,” he said. 
“I do not leave many alive to describe me,” you said back with considerable bite in your tone. 
He merely laughed once more and waved a hand at you. 
“Let us cease with the back and forth and discuss why I am truly here,” you demanded. 
“What does your king want?” He asked with a sigh. 
“For you to cease your pillaging of the costal villages,” you said. 
He narrowed his eyes at you, “And why would he send you to negotiate with me?” 
“He knew you would not want or need riches as a bribe. I offer you my services. In exchange for no longer attacking our villages, I will assassinate an enemy of your choice,” you explained. 
His broad feral grin was an answer in itself. 
————————————————————
“Lady Death Lady Death Lady Death” a deep dark voice hissed at you from the inky black. 
Eyes blinked open, shining bright, one sapphire and one violet, and you jolted awake. 
You took a shuddering breath, your skin slick with sweat. It had been weeks since you’d seen or heard from Death, and you’d spend that time trying to forget about your last encounter, though your efforts were entirely futile. 
But the pirate king’s words to you yesterday had shaken something awake inside you. 
You shook your head and arose from your bed, as you readied yourself, strapping an ungodly amount of weapons to your body, you cleared your mind and prepared yourself for another day of offering your midnight lover tributes. 
You crept across rooftops, having spent the entire day and most of the night tracking the Skull King’s most bitter rival. 
Honestly this whole rivalry seemed trivial to you, but you would do as you were bid. 
The man was a piss-poor drunk, having bought himself and the whole bar rounds and rounds of drinks. You watched through the crack in the ceiling as he pulled a barmaid onto his lap despite her protests. 
Certainly, now you were more than happy to be the bringer of his death. You gritted your teeth and reminded yourself of patience as he squeezed her curves and she pushed off him, managing to disentangle herself from his drunk and reeking presence. 
He yelled after her, slurred and vile words that had you gripping your favorite dagger. 
Just wait, just wait, just wait, you reminded yourself. There was to be only one death tonight. If you unleashed yourself now the death toll would be far too great and the act would be sloppy, more easily tracked and blame pinned quickly on the guilty parties. 
So you continued to watch and finally when he stumbled to the alley to relieve himself as you knew he would, you crept off the roof and hid yourself in the shadows. 
Death himself stood there where the rogue pirate should be. Your heart stumbled but you managed to stop yourself from gasping. 
“My lady,” he purred and bowed. Death bowed before you then stepped aside and gestured to the man you were targeting, the man whose life only had moments left. 
As Aemond faded back into the shadows, you knew he was still watching, and you blinked twice, gave yourself a second for one steadying breath, then moved. 
The man’s back was to you and it took little effort to leap upon his back and slit his throat. 
Blood sprayed and you jumped off his back, retreating quick enough that as his body fell to the ground, it did not hit you. 
You waited the moments it took for the gurgling noise of him choking on his own blood to cease and made certain he was well and truly in Death’s grasp before you yanked the ring off his finger, the proof of a job well done, and turned to leave. 
Before you turned completely, you saw Death as he crouched over the bloodied body, he shot you a wink and you shuddered as you ran off. 
You covered your tracks, and when you were certain there would be no possibility of the death being traced back to you, you returned to the office of the Skull King. 
You slipped through the shadows and waited for him, lounging in his chair like you owned it- like it was your throne. 
When he entered, you threw a knife so that it buried itself in the wall close enough to his head that he felt the whisper of its kiss. 
He glared at you and you smirked. 
“It’s done,” you said and threw the ring at him. 
He caught it, his expression torn between impressed and still angry at your nonverbal threat. 
“It needn’t be said, but I can end your life just as easily should you not uphold your end of the bargain,” you said. His face blanched at the tone of your voice, the look in your eye that held Death. 
He nodded slightly and with one more smirk at him, you vanished into the dark. 
You scrubbed the blood off you and prepared yourself for a night’s rest before beginning your journey back to King’s Landing. 
————————————————————
This was the first night Death appeared to you in your dreams even though you hadn’t nearly greeted him in the afterlife. 
“How?” You asked breathlessly as his lips broke from yours to create a blazing trail of fire across your jaw and down the side of your neck. 
“You are mine, and as you do your king’s bidding- slaughtering - our bond strengthens and so does your power,” he said and then ran his tongue up the column of your throat. 
You gasped and you couldn’t tell if it was due to his words or his tongue. 
You are mine. You are mine. You are mine. 
The words echoed in your brain as his lips trailed down your body to your core where he pleasured you with that wicked tongue. 
Every time you killed after that night, he appeared in your dreams, joining your bodies in ecstacy and strengthening that connection. 
He appeared in a vision every time you unleashed yourself in violence and spilled blood, ending lives, and living up to your new infamous title that rippled across the seven kingdoms, Lady Death.
You no longer lived in the shadows, you became the shadows within men fell. 
————————————————————
In the following months, the King kept you busier than ever. You weren’t certain if it was due to the power that your growing reputation provided him or if he wanted to keep you away, that same reputation striking fear into his own heart. 
Lately you hardly completed a mission before you received correspondence from the King with instructions for your next kill. 
He kept you far away from King’s Landing. It was fine with you, that den of vipers was never your home anyway. You didn’t have a true home. Perhaps that was why the embrace of Death felt like home. 
These days you hardly scrubbed the blood off you before you were covered in more. You killed nearly daily. Your connection with Death strengthened, to the point that his presence became near constant, in your waking hours and in your dreams. 
The more he appeared, the more you could feel it, that sensation like something prowled beneath your skin begging to burst forward and shatter the world. 
There had been no mention again of powers, but yet you could feel them growing. 
Months passed, and the first time they manifested, you leveled a building. 
You were trapped, well and truly, and it was due to your careless fatal mistake, overconfidence having become a rampant part of your personality due to your successes, and the strength of the death god who worshiped you. 
You were surrounded, having not been careful enough to ensure your targets were alone, too cocky that you wouldn’t be followed, and now you fought against twelve men.
”Kill them,” Aemond hissed from where he stood behind you, his rage growing stronger and directly influencing your own emotions. 
You could not determine where his emotions began and yours ended, so entangled the two of you had become. 
You tried, you used all of your skill, all of your strength, and it was not enough as the sword sunk into your gut. 
You hadn’t been this close to joining Death in the afterlife in a long while. 
“End them, destroy, and take what is yours,” Aemond growled through clenched teeth. 
You knew he would not do it for you, if he did then you wouldn’t be who he thought you were, who he needed you to be, who he loved.  
And you could feel it again, that thing that prowled beneath your skin begging to be released. 
So you became Death Incarnate as liquid fire filled your eyes and soul and exploded from your body. Black cold flames that instantly killed everyone they touched. 
“Good,” Aemond urged, those same wild flames in his eye. He pressed a kiss to your throat and the flames only grew stronger. 
His hand grazed your stomach, healing the wound. 
Your chest heaved as you took ragged breaths and surveyed the carnage around you. 
The fire grew out of control as you started to panic, but with Death’s careful instruction, you grounded yourself and reeled it all back in. 
You stood, dead bodies littered the ground around you, and only moved when the building groaned and threatened to fall atop you. 
You walked out of the ruined structure side by side with Death, as it crumbled behind you, leaving devastation in your wake. 
————————————————————
One night, during a dream, as you lay breathless in his arms after you both reached such high peaks at one another’s tongues, you asked him the question that had been so heavy on your mind. 
“Why me?” you asked curiously. 
“Hm?” 
His fingers traced patterns on your back. You turned your head from its place in his neck- you were half lying on his chest, and looked over at his wing. 
“Why did you choose me?” 
He chuckled softly. “Never before have I seen someone turn Death into such a beautiful game. You intrigued me.” 
You brushed a finger down the most sensitive part of his wing and he shuddered. 
“And now?” you asked. 
“And now, sweet temptress, you have convinced me to devote the entirety of my eternal being to you,” he growled before flipping you over suddenly so you were beneath him. 
You grinned at him, breathless and in wonder, and had no words, so you simply pulled his mouth to yours and proved to him how utterly devoted you were to him as well. 
————————————————————
It took time and Aemond’s careful instruction- months as you continued killing daily, fulfilling the King’s requirements, but you learned to control your newfound powers, that death fire. Still you couldn’t hide their manifestation in your eyes when you were angry or prepared to kill. 
You stood before your King once more and offered a several months long report detailing your actions since you last saw him. 
“Do not leave out any details,” he warned you through narrowed eyes. 
You pursed your lips and revealed as little information as you could about this magic, these powers that have recently manifested, but enough to please him. 
You knew he’d gotten reports, you rarely left eyewitnesses, but still rumors spread, you could hardly downplay it. 
You saw the wariness in his expression. 
Death manifested at your side. 
“Kill him,” he murmured. 
You ignored him, continuing to report to the King. 
“When were you going to tell me of this new magic you wield?” He asked, distrust in his voice. 
“End him, take his power for your own, sit on the Iron Throne,” Death whispered in your ear, purring like a lover. 
“This is the first time I’ve seen you in months, my King, you’ve kept me busy far away from the Red Keep, one could only wonder why,” you said, with only a little bit of bite. 
The King narrowed his eyes at you once more. 
“I do not have to explain my decisions to you. Your role is to serve and not question,” he sneered. 
For the first time while you were awake, you could feel Aemond’s hands on you. The bond between the two of you was stronger than ever as he stood behind you and intertwined his fingers with yours. He slowly brought your intertwined hands down from the small of your waist to the front of your hip- threatening to go lower, an echo - a memory of the night before he knew he triggered by that action. 
You remembered your dream last night, in a very similar position except then you sat before a mirror as he guided you to touch yourself, to aid him in giving you release, insisting you watch yourself as you moaned his name in ecstacy and he poured honey filled praises in your ear. He pulled two releases from you, forcing your eyes back on yourself, before he finally filled you, and the sight of him inside you, both your expressions twisted in pleasure, was the most erotic sight of all. 
The memory flashed in your eyes and you saw his current actions for what they were, a blatant attempt at seduction, as he used that same deep velvety voice as when he was trying to make you come, as his lips grazed your ear and beautiful silver hair fell over your shoulder, as he said, “Kill him, my love.” 
And you thought… 
You thought he might be right. 
Maybe you should kill this condescending king. You were more powerful than him. You were more powerful than everyone but your lover, no, to Aemond you were his equal. 
His Lady Death, and maybe it was finally time to take what was your own, to use your skills and powers for yourself, not in the service of others, not in the service of a king who didn’t appreciate you. 
You indeed felt that power within you begin to rise to the surface. 
And the king blanched, fear changing his expression. 
“What are you?” He gasped. 
And just like that, the fire that had begun to build inside you, which you were sure was molten in your eyes, sputtered out as if water had been thrown on you. 
“Your loyal servant,” you murmured with a curtsey. 
Death growled his discontentment, but you ignored him. 
The king nodded, his lips pursed, and dismissed you. 
For the first time in a long long time, you were uncertain of your own actions and choices. 
————————————————————
Two weeks later, you were in the North with a list of targets from the king to dispatch. 
The image of the king’s fear of you constantly flashed in your mind, regret and pride creating an uncomfortable cocktail of emotions within you. 
The regret was waning as Death continued as your constant companion, seducing and urging you forward. 
Your days became routine, although it was a comforting routine. 
Wake up, eat, train your magic, prepare, kill, be rewarded in the form of Aemond fucking you, sleep, and do it all over again the next day. 
The last name on your list of kills in the North was one you were actually eager for. This kill you would savor rather than committing without feeling. This time, you were able to use your skills for both your King and your own gain. 
This man had been one of your tormentors in your youth, you’d never had the time to track him down after he fled from King’s Landing, and now you would grant him the slow painful death he deserved. 
He sat in his home, a candle in the window, and you knew the timing was right. You’d watched him for days and knew you had a window of time of about two hours before his preferred courtesan arrived. 
Hate had your heart beating like a drum, your power rising, but you stifled it. You had to be clear headed and you didn’t want to use your powers to grant him an instant death, no, he deserved something wholly different. You wanted to feel his death, his blood on your own hands. 
You snuck through the back door, through the broken lock you’d disabled the night before. 
You ensured you were well and truly alone- besides your Angel of Death, creeping through the dark house towards your quarry.
You stepped into the sitting room and relished the way his eyes widened in fear, then recognition as you threw back your hood. 
He breathed out a name, not one of your many titles, a name from a past life, a name no one besides Death knew, a name not even your king knew. 
The flames in your eyes guttered, replaced by cold rage. 
His eyes again filled with fear as you threw a dagger that embedded itself in his shoulder. 
A yell of pain and outrage as he tried to stand, but quick as an asp another dagger fled from your hand and buried itself into his other shoulder. 
Another dagger was in your hand, poised to throw if necessary. 
He gritted his teeth, blood flowing heavily, and you smirked. 
“Bitch,” he spat out. 
Aemond appeared behind you, and hissed in disapproval. 
Anger fell to cold terror as he beheld the Death God behind you. 
His haunting beauty, both terrible and great, that was the other side of the coin to your own- that made you the perfect pair. 
“You can see him?” you asked. 
He nodded and the smell of urine filled the room. 
“Interesting,” you murmured even as your nose wrinkled at him. 
“It’s high time I teach you what real fear feels like,” you purred, your words an echo of the ones he’d said to you in your girlhood. 
And show him you did. 
Even after you were done, your rage was a jagged thing in your chest that threatened to swallow you whole. You didn’t know how to put it back in that carefully constructed box that allowed you to play the part of the disinterested assassin. 
Aemond crouched over the body, pressing two fingers to the forehead, sending the soul to the afterlife- to eternal torment, as he always did after you killed. 
He was the beginning and end of the destruction you wreaked on others, on the world. 
Slaughter, that was what you had done today. You couldn’t decide if it made you feel better or worse. You supposed it didn’t matter, the man was no longer capable of hurting others the way he had hurt you. 
Death prowled to you, and you looked up at him, chest still heaving and beating hard from whatever today’s actions had both shattered and healed within it. 
He stood close enough that his steady chest brushed against yours. 
Dark flames danced in his gaze, the same that danced in your own when your emotions were heightened, you both had the same unholy powers as a result of your bond, your union. 
And you knew he understood you completely, when he said nothing, for there were no words that would soothe now, no he simply leaned down and kissed you, thoroughly and deeply. 
When he pulled back, only slightly, brushing his sharp nose against yours, he murmured, “You taste better when you mean it, when your heart is in the kill.” 
You let him make love to you in the blood spattered room. 
————————————————————
Your waking hours and dreams bled into one, so filled with him and the pleasure only he could provide. 
This was indeed one of those moments, where the release he pulled from you was so strong, so heady, that you could not be certain if you were awake or dreaming. 
You moaned as he gripped your hips and continued a brutal pace as he thrusted inside you. 
Your power, his power, flames of Death danced and burned in the bed along with you as he joined himself with you. 
You burned with heat, with love for the only one who truly understood you- your mirror image due to the brutality inside both of you. 
But suddenly, he stopped. 
“Wake up,” he ordered, an expression you’d never seen on his face before, something akin to panic. 
“What?” you asked in confusion. 
“Wake up!” he yelled, and at that primal dominance in his tone, you obeyed. 
You held in your gasp as your eyes opened and you beheld the scene before you. 
You were not alone. The room was filled with men all with weapons in their hands.  
“The king sends his regards,” the assassin in your bed hissed as he lifted a dagger to thrust it into your heart. 
You had less than a heartbeat to react. 
Just as the sharp tip of the dagger broke your skin, black flames exploded out of you, ravaging the room and everyone in it. 
You sat up, hand on your chest and blood coating your fingers, and surveyed your destruction.  
The room was filled with fire. Every man was instantly dead, and now your black flames turned them to ashes. 
Aemond stood in the center of your storm, and watched you, pride evident in his gaze. 
Betrayal twisted in your gut, making you feel sick, and you extinguished the fire. 
“He tried to kill me,” you rasped out. 
Your angel of death, your protector, your lover in life and death nodded. 
“He fears you and the power you hold. He is a jealous coward,” he said, cold anger filling every word. 
“You were right,” you whispered, hoping that if you said them quietly enough that they wouldn’t be true. 
He simply nodded again. 
And it finally sunk in. The king you had devoted your entire adult life to, the king you had defiled yourself for through all manner of heinous acts of bloodshed, had betrayed you. 
He had turned on you, quickly and easily, despite your continued loyalty. He’d sent a group of men to kill you in your sleep after you just finished killing everyone on his list. 
He always had someone else do his dirty work, the coward he is, but usually you’re the one he sends out. 
This time he’d sent others to kill you as if you were no more than a loose end, a task to check off his list, and inconvenience that had grown too taxing. 
You met the heavy gaze of Death and said, “I know what I have to do.” 
————————————————————
The entire journey back to the Red Keep Aemond reviewed and revised the plan with you over and over again. 
You were ready. You were prepared. 
All of the skills, techniques, and powers you had acquired you were going to use for your own gain, for yourself today - with Death at your side. 
No one knew the secret passages of the Red Keep better than the King’s Assassin. You crept in at night, using the darkness as a cloak and remaining completely undetected. 
You set yourself up high in the mezzanine above the throne room and settled in for a long wait. 
Patience was key to your plan, to all of your plans generally, but it didn’t mean that the fury didn’t still burn as hot as ever. 
You let the black flames twirl and dance around your fingers and promised yourself that this time, it would be different. This time, you would come out on top. 
Hours passed, your legs cramped, but you ignored it, waiting, waiting, waiting for the right moment. 
You watched as dawn broke, bathing the room in golden light that bounced off the Iron Throne. 
The king eventually sat on that throne, meeting with petitioners, and you continued your game of patience. 
Finally, the moment was right, the room was no longer teeming with people, but not empty enough that there wouldn’t be an audience. 
You leapt from your hiding spot and landed nimbly right before him. Shock and fear changed his previously bored expression. 
You smirked, a cutting spiteful thing, as you stood. 
There was yelling from the king’s guards, but your midnight fire surrounded and circled the king and you, separating you both from everyone else in the room. The few who tried to cross it died instantly, the others learned from their mistakes and stepped back from your flames and watched.  
“Surprised to see me?” You asked. 
The blood drained from his face. 
Satisfaction only fueled the righteous fury in your chest. 
“Yes,” he admitted. 
“You tried to kill me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 
“Yes,” he merely repeated. 
“I have given EVERYTHING for you and to protect your rule. Have done EVERYTHING you asked. And this is how you reward me? By sending others to murder me in my sleep?” You said, lip curling in a snarl and angry tears pooling in your eyes. 
Death became visible at your side, not behind you like your puppeteer- beside you as your equal. He was not only visible to you- no you knew he was always with you - he became visible to everyone in the room as your fire pulsed higher and hotter. 
His hand on your back steadied and reassured you. 
Gasps filled the room once more. 
You glanced at Aemond, his long white hair juxtaposed against the black of his wings, his beauty something of dreams and nightmares. He had an intense look on his sharp face, but underneath it was love for you and only you. 
The king looked at his ancestor, made eye contact with his own demise, then looked back at you. 
“You were too dangerous to be kept alive,” he said. 
“I was completely loyal to you until your lackey tried to stab me in the heart,” you spat. 
“I suspect it will be the last mistake I ever make,” he said. 
“That is correct,” Aemond replied, his voice smooth and confident. 
“Kill him, my love,” Death urged. This time, you listened. 
A ball of fire appeared in your hand as you bared your teeth at the man who would no longer be your ruler. 
“You were right to fear me,” you said darkly, and threw Death Flames at your king. 
————————————————————
Aemond walked forward slowly and reached towards the king as you took gasping shuddering breaths.
You stopped seeing him, stopped seeing anything, as the impact of your actions crashed over you. 
He was before you once more, and with gentle fingers under your chin, he tilted your head back so you could meet his gaze. 
“My Lady Death, My Queen,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear before he pressed his lips to yours. 
His kiss enveloped and steadied you. 
Your flames sputtered out, but no one made a single move, for fear of the two of you. 
As he pulled back, he smiled at you, took a step back, and placed the conqueror’s crown on your head. 
“How do I taste now?” you asked. 
“Exquisite,” he murmured, his voice deep and soft as velvet. 
You grinned back at him, a wild feral thing.
He took your hand and led you to sit on the Iron Throne. 
Death then kneeled before you, bowing his head. 
“Kneel before your Queen,” he ordered, loud enough for all to hear. 
Everyone in the room followed suit. 
You became the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms with Death at your side. 
You would rule together, side by side, using your powers for your own gain, as Queen and King, as Death and His Lady. 
184 notes · View notes
queenshelby · 2 days
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AMERICAN GIRL (PART FOUR)
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader
Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo
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The following day,  you went about your usual routine. Working in the shop, spending time with Ada, and avoiding Grace at all costs. But your mind couldn't stop drifting back to Tommy and that moment last night. The way his eyes bore into yours, igniting a flame inside of you that you couldn't ignore.
It was forbidden, wrong even, but you couldn't help the way you felt. You wanted him, there was no denying it. But at what cost?
You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts that plagued your mind but when you saw him again with Lizzie that day, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.
It was irrational, you knew it was, but you couldn't help the way you felt.
"Why does he see her, you think?" you asked Ada , attempting to sound as casual as possible, hoping she wouldn't catch on to the tightness in your voice or the yearning that was etched into your eyes.
"You mean Tommy?"  Ada asked, squinting as she looked in the direction where you were gazing.
"Yes, why do you think Tommy is seeing Lizzie, or any other prostitute for that matter?"  you asked Ada, feigning interest in a stack of fabric samples she had spread on the counter before her.
Ada gave you a sidelong glance before turning to face you fully. "I thought that was obvious," she then chuckled. "For pleasure of course,” she nonchalantly said, flipping through the fabrics, but not before catching a hint of a blush on your cheeks.
You felt the sudden knot in your stomach. It was the same question gnawing at the back of your mind ever since that one fateful night, but it took you this long to finally gather enough courage to voice it out. You couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed in her response.
"But he's in a relationship with Grace," you blurted out, biting your lip the moment after. Ada merely shrugged.
"I suppose, but Tommy has never been one to be held down by societal norms and expectations. Despite, many men who can afford it see whores these days,” Ada replied with a casual shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Men think with their cocks. It's all about sex for them and, quite frankly, I would be willing to pay for it too if I had the option. It makes things much less complicated,” Ada said offhandedly as she continued to flip through the fabric samples, making a mental note of the ones she wanted to purchase.
"Is it really that good?" you asked, curious and slightly taken aback by her blatant honesty.
"Well, that depends on your definition of good," Ada smiled wryly. "With the right man, it can be amazing," she told you before asking you a question. "Have you never done it before?" Ada asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise. You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and looked away, studying the intricate pattern on the fabric before you.
"No, I haven't," you muttered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been in jail for two years and before that I never felt...you know, attracted to anyone before." You glanced up at Ada, hoping she would understand.
"I would never have guessed it Y/N. You are so confident, even around my brothers who can be quite intimidating. I thought surely you must have had a lover or two in the past," Ada stated, intrigued.
"No, there was never really anyone who caught my eye and to be honest, I don't think I was ever truly ready for something like that," you confessed, looking up to meet Ada's gaze. "But I can't say I haven't thought about it before. Especially after coming here."
"Oh god, you need to stay away from men in this area," Ada chuckled. "You should come and visit me in London. I will take you out. The men there are different. Sophisticated, even. You will see,” Ada winked slyly.
You smiled at the thought, already beginning to feel the excitement build inside of you. "I would like that, Ada. I truly would."
The exchange with Ada gave you a small reprieve from the chaos inside your mind, but the thoughts of Thomas and your growing desires lingered in your consciousness.
When the day came to an end however, you felt like drowning out these irrational and somewhat irritating thoughts about a man you knew you could not have and asked Ada whether she wanted to join you for a drink at any of the local establishments. 
"A drink?" she asked, chuckling. "There are only pubs around here and none of them are really appealing to say the least. Despite, I must be home for Karl. One of my maids is sick," she added, crinkling her nose in distaste.
"I don't think I have ever been to a pub," you confessed, somewhat abashedly, seeing that you had only ever visited a few clubs in New York, all of which had been elegant and modern for the times. 
"Well, you are not missing much," Ada replied, screwing her face in a wince. "But, if you insist, there are a few ones around here that are safe. Go to the Garisson and tell them that you are a Shelby. That way you will be served a drink, and no one will lay a hand on you unless you want them to. If you run into any trouble though, get them to call Tommy or Arthur," Ada said with a hint of a smile.
You looked at her, puzzled, not quite understanding the meaning behind her words. You were unsure what you needed protection from and why you wouldn't be served a drink in the first place, but you didn't ask.
"All right, I will keep that in mind," you replied, pursing your lips and nodding your head ever so slightly.
Ada left shortly after that, leaving you alone in the empty shop and you were quick to close up before embarking on your maiden voyage to one of these notorious local establishments.
You walked past the dimly lit streets of Birmingham, the cobblestone illuminated by the soft orange glow from gas streetlamps that lined the streets. You ventured further, passing the occasional passersby, feeling as though all eyes were upon you. Your heartbeat faster with every footstep as you grew closer to your unknown destination and you wondered whether, perhaps, this was not such a good idea after all. 
You already felt out of place in this city, with your elegant dress and your high heels from New York.  You were aware that this was not the kind of place that women like you dared to step foot in, but you were determined to push your boundaries and, perhaps, learn something new about yourself - and the world around you.
The Garisson was unremarkable among the neighbouring buildings, but once you stepped inside, you felt the atmosphere instantly change. It was charged with a tense, almost palpable energy, a strange combination of excitement and danger that seemed to reverberate through the air.
When you entered, the men inside turned to look at you, their gazes lingering on your figure for a moment before turning back to their drinks. You could feel the weight of their stares, but you didn't let it intimidate you. Instead, you walked with a newfound confidence, feeling an unexpected sense of power.
You made your way to the bar and took a seat, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked around the room. Yet, despite the unfamiliarity of your surroundings, there was something oddly liberating about being in a place where everyone seemed to be living on the edge.
"I am afraid I can't serve you ma'am," the man behind the bar said, breaking the spell of your thoughts.
You blinked, surprised by his words. "I'm sorry?" you asked, unsure if you had heard him correctly.
The bartender nodded, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, but we don't serve women here," he explained.
Your eyes widened in surprise. "But I thought the Garisson was a public house?" you asked, your confusion growing.
The bartender shrugged. "It is, but that doesn't mean we serve women," he replied.  "It's just the way things are around here."
His words hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the unspoken rules that governed this world. You felt a surge of frustration and anger rise within you, but you held your tongue, refusing to let these men see you falter.
"I see," you said calmly, mustering every ounce of strength and dignity to push down the hurt while contemplating your next move just as you heard a familiar voice from the distance.
"It's alright. She's with me," the voice said, cutting through the tension. You turned to see Thomas Shelby making his way towards you, his eyes fixed on yours.
The bartender nodded, his gaze flicking between you and Thomas before he finally relented.  "Of course, Mr Shelby. I am sorry. I did not know," the bartender apologized, eyes wide with embarrassment. "What can I get you, ma'am?" the bartender asked, his tone now deferential.
But Thomas hadn't taken his eyes off you. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and husky. He was so close to you now that you could feel his warm breath on your face.
You swallowed hard; your throat suddenly dry. "I was just... looking for some... entertainment," you stammered, feeling like a schoolgirl again before quickly ordering a drink with the barman.
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Entertainment, eh?" he chuckled. "This is fucking Birmingham, Love. There is no entertainment here unless you wish to stand up there and fucking sing,” Thomas chuckled, motioning towards the makeshift stage. He was so near that you could feel the heat emanating from his body and it sent a ripple of excitement through you.
"And I just may, after a glass of whiskey or two," you replied, cocking your head to one side as you gave him a playful grin that belied the tension between them.
Thomas chuckled, the deep rumbling sound drawing the attention of those around them. It wasn't long before the whispers and murmurs filled the air, the patrons whispering and speculating about the nature of your relationship.
The thought made you feel uncomfortable, and you shifted uncomfortably on your stool, but Thomas didn't seem to notice or care.
"No," he said, nonetheless. "Have your drink and then I will get one of my men to drive you home, eh. This is no place for a woman like you,” Thomas sighed, his voice low as he leaned against the bar. His words felt almost like a blow, and you couldn't quite understand why.
"Well, I want to stay, and you are going to buy me another drink after I am done with this one," you told him as you quickly downed the amber liquid in front of you before ordering another.
Thomas studied you for a moment, his gaze intense and penetrating. "And why would I do that?"  Thomas asked, arching an eyebrow. There was an amused glint in his eyes, but you could also detect a hint of sincerity beneath that.
"Well, because if you do, then I may keep this little secret of yours from my lovely stepmother Grace," you said, matching his smirk as you revealed your trump card.
Thomas' eyes narrowed for a moment, as if sizing you up and assessing whether you were bluffing or not.
"What little secret?"  Thomas growled, arching an eyebrow as he leaned closer, invading your personal space.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze on you before leaning closer and whispering into his ear almost seductively. "Lizzie Stark," was all that you said, watching as Thomas's expression shifted at the mention of the name. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his eyes darkening before he too whispered into your ear.
"Another whiskey?" he murmured, his breath warm against your ear and you nodded.
"Yes, and make it a double this time."
The intensity between you and Thomas had grown palpable. You had pushed a button that no one else could, daring to confront him about what usually remained unspoken. 
Thomas gave you a curt nod before signalling to the bartender for a double whiskey. He downed his drink in one swift motion, his eyes never leaving yours for even a moment.  The look in his eyes was something you had never seen before - it was intense, powerful and overwhelming. It was full of the promise of passion, forbidden and uninhibited.
You watched him as he placed the empty glass back on the counter with a muted clink, swallowed hard and took a deep, steadying breath. Your heart raced in your chest and your head swam dizzily with the potency of the liquor as well as the proximity of Thomas Shelby.
You too drank your double whiskey in one swift motion, feeling the burn as it travelled down your throat and warmed your belly. The world seemed to tilt slightly with each passing moment, and you were glad for the bar to steady you in place.
Eventually, after a few more drinks, you indeed made up on stage, looking way out place in this rather run down establishment. Glamorous and with an unmistakable American charm, you stood out. In that moment, the entire bar fell silent, all eyes trained on you as you stood up tall. 
"Fuck," Tommy murmured to himself as Arthur and John took their places next to him by the bar in readiness for the show.
"Finn has been having his eye on that one, Tom. And I can't fucking blame him," John piped up, nodding towards the stage where you now stood.
"Finn couldn't handle her," Tommy brushed John's comment off as he looked at you with a mix of admiration and desire, the latter intensifying as you started singing. 
You had chosen a jazzy, sultry tune that perfectly suited your velvety voice and captivating stage presence and the patrons at the pub watched in astonishment at this unexpected interlude, but you paid them no mind.
Your voice, steady and confident, echoed throughout the room, sweeping everyone off their feet. The energy in the room had shifted from tense and uneasy to electric, filled with raw emotion that pulsed through your veins.
The room was full of men, not a single woman in sight, and as you sang, you felt like you commanded their attention, bending them to your will with the melody of your voice.
But then, from the corner of your eye, you saw him rise from his seat. Thomas Shelby.
His presence was overpowering, commanding attention without any effort. A shiver ran down your spine as those deep blue eyes locked onto yours, holding you captive in his gaze.
He moved closer, the throngs of whispering men parting in his wake.
He was a force to be reckoned with, radiating authority and desire that made your heart race: with fear, with excitement, or perhaps a little bit of both.
Two other men whom you did not know also moved closer, trying to make their move as you finished the song. They were rough-looking men, clearly not used to elegance or refinement, the types that frequented such establishments often. But they were no match for Thomas Shelby.
He moved in front of them just as they reached you, his movements quick and lethal, a silent warning etched on his face. The two men hesitated, sensing the danger in his eyes, and then turned around, choosing not to press their luck.
Thomas offered you a hand, and you took it gratefully, feeling like you needed his support more than ever before as you finished signing and descended from the stage.
Cheers erupted around you as you made your way back to the bar, your heart still pounding with the rush of singing onstage.
Tommy's hand lingered at your waist, drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin. The warmth of his touch sent a ripple of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help but lean into him just a little.
"You shouldn't have done that Love, drawing these men's attention like this," Thomas murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.
"I didn't mean to," you replied, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and confusion. "I just...I love to sing, and it felt good to let go, even for just a moment."
Thomas looked at you, his gaze softening just a fraction. "I know," he said. "But around here, attention can quickly turn into danger.  Men like these have not seen a woman like you before, and they will try to have you in any way they can," Thomas continued, his eyes filled with an intensity that sent a tremble down your spine.
His finger brushed gently against your cheek, a feather-soft touch that caused you to gasp before blushing scarlet. Your heart raced in your chest, aware that his words had some weight to them but also appreciating the gentle way he offered them.
You nodded silently, a mix of fear and gratitude coursing through you.  Thomas Shelby had a reputation for being a dangerous man, but right now, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his protection.
"Now, are you going to have another drink or are you going to allow me to take you home?"  Thomas' voice was low and gravelly in your ear, his arm still lightly draped around your waist. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine and setting your heart racing.
"Home, please," you replied softly, your emotions still swirling from the impromptu performance and the attention you received from these strange men. The energy in the pub had shifted once again, becoming charged with a tension that unnerved you slightly. But Thomas' presence was a comforting one, drawing you nearer to him with each passing moment.
He signalled to the bartender for your coat, and you slipped it on gratefully, feeling the comforting weight of the fabric against your skin.
The moment you stepped outside, the frigid winter air hit you like a slap in the face, jolting you from the haze of the pub's atmosphere. You shivered involuntarily, wrapping your coat tighter around your body.
Thomas' arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer to him in a protective gesture as several men kept looking at you with predatory  eyes from across the street. He led you to the curb, signalling for one of his men to bring the car around.
In the distance, the sound of an approaching motor roared in the silence of the night. Your breath hitched as the vehicle sped towards you, and then slowed down just in time, stopping inches away from where you and Thomas stood.
The door swung open, and Thomas guided you inside, settling into the plush leather seat with a sigh.
The engine hummed to life, and the warmth of the car seeped into your bones, causing you to relax slightly. You watched as the streets of Birmingham passed by in a blur, the city streets abandoned at this late hour.
Thomas didn't speak, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but you could feel his intensity radiating from him. You shifted awkwardly in your seat, unsure of what to say or do.
Despite your earlier confrontation with him, you couldn't deny the way your body responded to his presence.
A warm flush spread across your cheeks and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your heart raced in your chest.
Thomas stole a glance at you, his eyes softening as he took in your nervous mannerisms. He didn't say anything, but the way he shifted his position in the seat told you that he was closer now, his arm brushing against yours and sending an electric current through your body.
"You did well up there," Thomas murmured, breaking the silence between you. "The men loved you."
Your blush deepened, and you shrugged off his compliment.
"I just sang a song. It's not a big deal," you replied softly, your gaze fixed on the passing buildings.
"You didn't just sign a song Love. You performed. There is a difference," Thomas continued, determination in his voice. The way he said it stirred something inside you, and your heart skipped a beat.
You fell silent again, lost in thoughts as you watched the streets of Birmingham pass by. Your mind raced with everything that had happened since you arrived in the city.
So many changes, so many new experiences, and so many unanswered questions, all of which you put aside when Tommy's Bently pulled up in front of Arrow House, the magnificent building that you and your sister now called home.
He got out of the car, coming around to open the door for you, offering his arm as he led you towards the staircase leading up to the grand wooden entrance.
His touch was firm and reassuring, and despite your earlier reservations, you felt safe under his protection.
"Thank you," you murmured, unsure of what else to say as you entered the house. 
"It was nothing," he replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You should get some sleep, Y/N. It's been a long day," Thomas said, his voice low and gentle as he caressed your cheek.  You blinked, his touch making you feel suddenly lightheaded. You couldn't remember the last time someone had been so tender with you.
"Yes, it has," you agreed, leaning into his touch for a moment.
Thomas' gaze held yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you stared into the depths of his blue eyes. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, and before you knew what was happening, his lips were on yours. It was a gentle kiss, one filled with both longing and tenderness, and you found yourself responding in kind. But all too soon, the kiss ended, and Thomas pulled away, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he said softly before turning and walking away towards the left as if he had suddenly changed his mind, leaving you to watch him disappear into his office upstairs.
"Goodnight," your murmured almost to yourself, unaware of the fact that you had been watched by someone else.
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196 notes · View notes
luvingtsumu · 2 days
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( MIYA ATSUMU X FEM!READER )
the question ‘do you see us getting married?’ comes from his high school sweetheart, and he doesn’t know how to answer. he thinks he’s young, he thinks he has time, but you were not gonna wait forever.
content— angst with happy ending, slightly suggestive.
author’s note— more 3:00 am thoughts.
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He stayed quiet for a few seconds, letting the words sink in before he scoffed.
“What are ya talkin’ about? We’re young, why are ya thinkin’ about marriage?”
Your head raises from his chest, serious eyes staring back at him, making him bite his tongue to prevent himself from talking.
“We’ve been dating since we were 16, we’re 22 now.” you sighed “I mean, yes, we’re young but…”
You pause, his hands traveling down your back, rubbing it slightly to encourage you to continue talking.
“I do see a future with you, marrying you.” you looked down, slightly embarrassed “We dated since we were very young so I wanna know if you see us together in the future.”
Atsumu stayed quiet, he didn’t liked serious talks, but he understood where you were coming from.
His friends used to tell him that if he stayed with you he was gonna loose all his youth being loyal to you, and he started thinking about it. It’s not like he wanted to go and fuck every girl in his way, and he loved you, he really did, but you were right.
You two had been dating since a very young age, would it be possible for you to get older together? Without a possible divorce happening —in case you two did get married—?
Would he get tired of you?
It was too much compromise, thinking about settling down at this point wasn’t in his priorities.
“I don’t know.” he said, and he immediately regret it by the way your eyes seemed disappointed by his answer.
“Okay.” you muttered, and Atsumu kissed your forehead.
“Stop thinkin’ about that, it’s not important right now.” he said, ‘reassuringly’.
But it was important to you.
You wanted a family with Atsumu, you saw him in your bed every morning for the rest of your days, and you couldn’t even think about finding someone else.
But his ‘i don’t know’ was an enough answer for you to realize that he was thinking about a future where he got bored of you, he didn’t wanna give you an answer because he couldn’t picture himself with you every day of his life.
That was alright. You couldn’t force him to marry you.
But it still hurt a bit, because now every day it was more of a preparation, more wondering about if this was the day he was gonna get tired of you.
You continued the relationship because you loved him, even if you shouldn’t have because picturing a future without him was getting more difficult every day.
You wanted everything with him but now you couldn’t help but wonder if the possibility was even in his mind.
“Mika invited us to her wedding.” you told him.
“Mika? How many years she’d been with her boyfriend?” he asked before taking a bite of your his burger.
“10 years, high school sweetheart’s too.” you chuckled “And to think I used to tell her to dump him.”
Atsumu chuckled too “Tell ‘em congratulations for me.”
“Already did.” you sighed, placing your phone down “Everyone is getting married lately, hm?”
“Right?” he continued eating, licking the mustard off his thumb “Everyone is settlin’ down this days.”
It had been a year since you asked him the question, and you were about to ask him again, just so see if the answer might’ve changed, but before you even had the change to consider keeping your mouth shut, Atsumu said something that answered everything.
“I don’t understand the need to get married.” he cleaned his mouth with a napkin “I mean— ya get me right?”
“Mhm.” No. You didn’t get him.
“Ya always do.” he smiled, and you just smiled back.
That’s when you realized this was just wrong.
If Atsumu didn’t see a future with you, why were you still here? Why were you waisting time and feelings?
And that’s how the next month’s became just about you slowly drifting apart.
You thought Atsumu wouldn’t notice, but he did.
You were like water escaping through his fingers and he didn’t knew what to do.
It was so subtle that if he didn’t loved you to the bones he probably wouldn’t even realize. But it was so obvious to him even in the way you send him messages.
Why your ‘can’t wait to get home to see you 💗’ became ‘heading home now’?
He was desperate, so desperate that he broke his number 1 rule and went to ask his twin for advice.
“I just don’t know what’s happenin’ with her.” he sighed.
“Maybe she thinks yer not that serious with her.” Osamu lazily answered, cleaning some of the glasses.
“Whaddaya mean!?” he looked at him “We’ve been datin’ for 7 years, does that not sound serious ‘nough fer ya?”
“I mean, yer takin’ too long in givin’ her the ring. Even ma asked me if ya were plannin’ on doin’ it this year.”
Atsumu blinked a few times “‘m bot plannin’ on givin’ her any ring— I mean! She knows that, I already told her ‘m not sure about marriage.”
Osamu looked at Atsumu in disbelief and then he thought back about the time you came to the restaurant with some of your friends and he heard you talking about your dream wedding.
“After 7 years yer still not sure?”
“Marriage is a difficult thing.” he sighed.
“So yer practically takin’ her fer granted?” Osamu clicked his tongue “I wonder what yer problem would be.”
“‘m not takin’ anyone fer—” he stopped mid sentence.
He blinked a few times as a rush of thought’s suddenly hit him.
He loved you and said it, he was used to the normal routine, he was used to waking up next to you and he was used to coming back home and seeing you laying on the sofa waiting for him…
But you haven’t done that in a while, now that he thinks.
He is taking you for granted. He’s thinking so hard about how he’s still young and how there’s still much time left that he forgot to actually show you that he loves you.
He was so stupid.
Saying ‘i love you’ had become a routine more than a feeling he had to show, and he was letting it happen as if it was nothing, as if you weren’t the only thing he waked up in the morning for.
And he loved you, fuck. He did. He would rip his hair out even thinking of a life without you. So what was he waiting for? Why couldn’t he just marry you? Make you his pretty wife?
Wife definitely sounded so much better than girlfriend.
He now understood. Marriage wasn’t necessary because his love for you wouldn’t change, but marriage was the last step, the part where he said ‘i wanna be with you for the rest of my life’, even if he already knew that.
So after 7 years, what was he waiting for? What was he doing if he wasn’t giving you a ring right now?
He never understood why you got so excited watching wedding videos, but he sure did now. Marrying the love of your life sure was beautiful, and it was the step he wanted to take.
That day he kissed your breath away as soon as he got home, and made you cry on his cock for the rest of the night.
He kept grabbing your hand, holding you fingers making sure to think about what ring he was gonna give you.
And there and then, that’s when he realized, when he had his tongue on your sweet pussy.
Looking up at you, seeing your red face being hit by the moonlight, tears shining in the dark as you moaned his name, your thighs wrapped around his head, hips grinding against his face and your hand pulling his hair.
That’s when he realized it was just what he wanted for the rest of his life. What he always wanted. What he knew he wanted. And he was gonna earn it now, no more playing around. You two had been together for 7 years, goddamnit! He needed to show you how much he loved you, how he would take his heart out in a second to give it to you if you asked for it.
“I love ya, I love ya so fuckin’ much.” he said as his cock reached for that gummy spot inside of you.
You were moaning, feeling as if you were gonna pass out. And then he said it.
“Fuck, I wanna marry ya, baby. Make ya my pretty wife.” he kissed your jaw “I love ya so damn much.”
And just like that he had you cumming all over his cock, his words ringing in your ears before you passed out.
You knew. When he said stuff during sex. He meant it.
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emphistic · 15 hours
Text
Interlude
A/N: did i write this in half an hour? yes. am i crazy? of course.
"Ah ah ah. I never said you could leave yet."
You immediately stopped in your tracks upon hearing a familiar deep, raspy voice at your back, coming from the confines of your shared bed.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
You whipped your head around, and were met with a set of half-lidded eyes in a shade of deep red. Their owner was propped up on one elbow atop the messy sheets, yawning loudly before running his long fingers through his unruly locks.
Sukuna was never a morning person, and his shifts always started later in the afternoon, so he always used it to his advantage.
Blinking once, twice, thrice, as you nervously averted your gaze away from your very enticing boyfriend, who only continued to stare at you sleepily.
The thought of going back to lay in your comfortable, warm bed was already something you wanted to do terribly, but adding Sukuna into the mix, too? This was like trying to drain the sea.
Merely one look at the pink-haired man, who was only covered waist-down by the blankets on his legs, was enough to pull you back beneath the covers and curl into his side.
However, you had already called sick two times in only a fortnight, and those bills were not going to pay themselves.
Unfortunately for you, or not unfortunately, you and Sukuna had been over this many times. Sukuna always told you, "I don't understand why you keep going back to that shitty job anyway. Just let me take care of you back in my place, I provide substantially for the both of us, anyway."
And besides, there really wasn't a way out for you no matter what.
Sukuna had had so many clients back-to-back lately, that he was forced to stay at the tattoo shop for nights on end. On top of that, Choso was unavailable for God knows why, so Sukuna had to fill in for him as well. And if that wasn't enough, sessions would take longer than expected because clients just wouldn't stop flirting with him, moving or twitching, accidentally messing up his work, talking so obnoxiously to the point Sukuna couldn't even pay attention, etc.
Only recently — just the night before, he was finally granted the chance to come home to you.
And you best believe he was going to spend every hour, minute, and second reminding you that you were his, and his only.
Not even your job's employee, apparently. Sorry not sorry.
But, it's not like you wanted to leave him anyway. You had missed Sukuna as much as he had missed you, if not more.
Phone calls while he was on break, sending memes through your text messages, playing together on Game Pigeon, FaceTimes while eating lunch together, were your only escapes from the sad, miserable Adult Life, into just Sukuna and You World.
"Baby, you know I have to. But I'll be back before you know it, okay? And besides, you need the free time. They've been working you nonstop—"
"I'm fine, not even tired. Don't you dare worry your pretty little head about me. As for free time . . ," Sukuna's held a mischievous glint to them, "how about you spend my free time with me?"
You bit your lip, in contemplation. Although you knew, clear as day, what would happen in the end despite everything.
Deciding to make a run for it, you swung your legs over the bed and planted your bare feet on the freezing-cold floor of your apartment. But before you could even stand up, a thick arm swiftly made its way around your waist and pulled you back to meet a hard, bare chest.
Sukuna was now sitting up.
You lightly gasped, as he brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.
"Don't think you can run away from me just yet, doll. I haven't seen you in days, and I'm not going to be apart from you for another second."
You squirmed in his grasp, but when you realized his strong hold around your middle wasn't going to let up any time soon, you sighed, and, left with no choice, only slumped back against his chest.
Sukuna grinned, victorious, once again.
The rays of the early sun filtered through the cheap window blinds, and you fluttered your eyelashes, squinting to hide away from the inevitable.
"Yeahh," Sukuna laughed, "that's right, princess. Just listen to me from now on."
You frowned, turning your head around to narrow your eyes at Sukuna.
"Now, what can we do with all this free time? I'm thinking we should try something new." Sukuna raised a brow teasingly, twisting your body around and settling you onto his lap with your thighs on either side of his.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, mister. I'm only staying for five more minutes," you crossed your arms.
Sukuna placed both of his large hands on your hips; it seemed like that was their default resting spot. Every chance he got, they would always end up there. No matter the setting or occasion.
Sukuna let out a deep laugh, "We'll see about that."
-
"Five minutes? You said? Either way, I don't think you're even able to move your legs at this point and walk out of this room."
"S'kuna, you're—ngh—not funny!" Your nipples hardened, and rubbed raw against the material of your shirt.
You braced yourself by placing both hands on the headboard, but it didn't look like anything could help stable you now.
Sukuna licked a stripe up your dampening clit.
Your situation wasn't looking too good. It didn't help that your asshole of a boss just had to call you right then and there.
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munsonsmixtapes · 3 days
Note
Virgin!Eddie X Experienced!reader where Eddie has a wet dream for the first time and calls (reader) for a little bit of help 🤭
Ooh, yes! Thanks so much for the request, lovely!
virgin!Eddie x experienced!reader
cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) Eddie receives a handjob
Rain pattered against Eddie’s trailer as he tossed and turn in his sleep. His thoughts were filled with nothing but you and he could stop seeing your naked body and the way your back arched in pleasure as he pounded into you. Your hands leaving bright red scratches down his back as you screamed his name as he said the most filthy things in your ear.
He jolted away at a loud clap of thunder and checked to see that he had in fact had a wet dream about you. He had dreamed about you so many times, but he was always able to care of it. But tonight, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to do the job for him. He wanted more company tonight than just his hands.
Eddie turned onto his side to face his bedside table and stared at his phone, contemplating giving you a call, but it was three in the morning so he was sure that you were asleep. He was desperate, but not enough to bother you while you were sleeping.
Maybe he could text you. That wouldn’t be too disruptive, right? He was just going to text you and if you didn’t reply, he was just going to have to rely on his stupid hand to get the job done. But the thing about his hand was that it wasn’t pretty and didn’t compliment him when he made a sound that was particularly hot. And his hand didn’t snuggle him after the show was over, telling him what a good job he has done.
Eddie reached over and grabbed his phone and opened up the text thread he had with you before going through your conversation before debating if he was actually going to say something. Before he could stop himself, he quickly typed out something before throwing his phone across the room.
Are you awake?
He got up onto his knees as if he could see the screen from there and felt his heart race in his chest as he waited for a reply. God, why did he do that? He should have just left it alone.
His phone pinged and he launched himself across the bed into the floor, flipping the phone over to see that you had replied.
never thought I’d get a you up text from you
What’s up?
My dick, he thought, but he thought that was too to the point.
Can I come over?
There was no way that he was going to fuck you with Wayne being in the other room, so your apartment was going to have to work.
You replied instantly.
You don’t have to ask, handsome! That’s why I gave you the key, remember? 😉
He honestly couldn’t believe that you had trusted him enough with a key to your apartment. Sure, you had been at this for months, but he didn’t think that your relationship (if you could even call it that) was at that stage. But still, he took the key found himself staring at it from time to time, knowing that you’d let him come over any time he wanted.
You had given Eddie the key months ago and this was going to be the first time he actually used it. His excuse was that he didn’t want to potentially walk in you while changing but you both knew that you couldn’t have cared less. His real reason was that a key was a big step in any relationship, and he wasn’t sure what ever was going on between the two of you, but he liked it. And he was trying to convince himself that he didn’t want your relationship to progress just because he was sure that you didn’t want it to. He knew for a fact that if you asked him to be your boyfriend, he would have jumped at the chance.
Eddie threw on his shoes out the way out the door and raced across town to get to your apartment. He had memorized the way, no longer needing his phone to get him there since he had come over so often.He had never come over so early in the morning, though, and he was grateful for the lack of people on the road so he could get to you sooner.
Eddie pulled up to your building and the elevator ride to your floor was agonizingly long as it slowly took him up to your floor. Once there, he got to your door and unlocked it, letting himself in.
The place was in a bit more disarray than usual with a few dishes in the sink and appliances that took over the counter that were usually neatly tucked away. But that didn’t surprise him since you didn’t really have much time to clean up. And Eddie didn’t think he could talk because he could barely see the floor in his own room.
He moved through your apartment and knocked on your door which you opened in a flash. You let him inside and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the baby pink silk lingerie nightgown that showed off your body very nicely.
“Hi,” you greeted him with that petty smile and he thought he could just melt right there where he was standing. Seeing you in that outfit, he really was going to need all the help he could get.
“Hi,” he nodded and stepped towards you, his hands, gripping your waist, pulling you to him. “This is a nice little number.”
“Really? You like it?” Were you kidding? Eddie swore he was going to cum right there just by looking at you. The dress stopped right at the middle of your thighs and the cups of the top were always sheer and he could see how hard your nipples were. It was driving him mad that you both weren’t already naked.
“Fucking love it. You’re so hot it’s unfair.” Eddie was really good at compliments. He somehow always knew exactly what you wanted to hear and never failed to tell you how much he liked the way you looked. He was just so sweet and you really wished you could have him b
“You’re hotter,” you told him, your hand moving up so you could twirl some of his hair around your pointer finger.
“Impossible. There’s no competition,” he leaned forward so that his lips were right by your ear. “But if there was, you’d win hands down,” he whispered before bringing your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a soft bite before pressing his lips to your jaw. He pressed open mouthed kisses to your skin until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a bruising one.
It was messy, teeth and tongues getting in the way, but you eventually figured it out, your lips slotting together like two perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands gripped his jaw roughly as you moved his head, trying to get more of him, beginning him to open his mouth as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip.
He opened up and you slide your tongue into his mouth, letting the muscle swirl around his as you both moaned in pleasure at the feeling. You felt Eddie’s boner against your stomach and pushed down his pajamas pants and underwear, giving you a full view of his cock.
“God, I need you so bad,” he whined and you shushed him, trying to get him to calm down.
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.” You reached for some lube and covered your hand in the stuff before giving his length a few slow pumps, causing him to let out a loud moan, as if it was a sigh of relief.
“God, feels so good.” His fingers dug into your hips as he threw his head back, shutting his eyes tight as euphoria coursed through him.
Eddie’s hands slide down and pushed up your dress to remove your underwear only to find that you weren’t wearing anything.
“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he told you and you bit your bottom lips as you looked up at him through your lashes.
“Thought it’d skip a step.”
Well, that was very nice of you.”
You continued to move your hand back and forth, picking up the pace as you did so, wanting him to feel as good as you had a few nights ago. Once he had reached his climax, you removed your hand and you pushed him down onto the bed before reaching into the pockets of his jeans before pulling out a condom. You ripped open the packet before rolling the thing onto his dick.
You then climbed onto top of him and settled yourself onto his cock, both of you moaning at the sensation as you did so. Out of all the times you and Eddie had hooked up, he had always been on top, but this time, you felt like you owed it to him to let him be on the bottom. You took no time and bucked your hips into his, grabbing onto his shoulders so you’d have more control.
“Fuck, so good, baby,” he whined and you couldn’t stop thinking about hot he looked underneath you, his hair splayed out onto the mattress. His lips so pretty and pink and kiss bitten. His eyes shut as he made the prettiest sounds, it was all so euphoric.
“You like that?” You asked, moving the hardest and fastest that you could and he came completely undone underneath you, his hands scratching up and down your back, leaving bright red marks.
“God, love it, baby. Could let you ride me all night.” You could definitely make that happen, especially since he was being so sweet and complimentary.
“Oh, I intend to.” You continued to move at the same speed and you both moaned and whined and whimpered at every little move, being nothing but vocal about how much you were enjoying your time together.
If you were being honest, Eddie could have been the only man you ever fucked for the rest of your life and would have been content. You’d never tell him, but you’d hadn’t even slept with anyone else since that night at there club and you were going to continue to hook up with him until he got bored of you. They always got bored of you.
After riding him for what felt like forever, you both climaxed and did the proper things to clean up before climbing into your bed, snuggling up in each other’s arms, your naked bodies pressed together.
You stared at Eddie as you stroked his hair, wondering why he always came back. Most people would have kicked you to the curb by then, but it seemed like the never got tired of you. He was such a gentleman and you couldn’t believe that he had given you the honor of taking his virginity in that club all those months ago.
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Text
Peeta is always open to drawing or painting anything for Katniss and she's frequently taken him up on it. It's usually not that difficult for him, he loves the chance to paint, to refine his skills. Katniss loves having not only a reminder of certain memories but also a physical representation of Peeta's enduring and almost quiet love for her. And it's easy. Natural. That is until Katniss looks at Peeta one day and asks, "Would you do a self-portrait for me?"
That's hard for him. The sketches are never quite right, the colors are off. Katniss doesn't ever nitpick at his paintings, and she isn't being unkind or anything, but she always looks at the drafts with an uncertain expression only to say, "Somethings not right, Peeta."
Peeta gets frustrated. Why can't he just do this painting? He asks Katniss what is off about the sketches, and it's always a thousand little things. His eyes aren't that severe. He's supposed to have freckles there. His mouth is softer in real life. His hair doesn't curl like that. His expression is off. He can never seem to get it right. What is it about this painting?
They're lying on the couch one day when Katniss says, "Maybe you just can't see yourself the way I do."
That makes him curious. How does she see him? They start trying to figure that out. He says that she should describe his face to him as if he were a plant for the book, and maybe they could arrive somewhere accurate.
Katniss finds it a little funny, even odd, he's himself. He has to be more familiar with his own face than she is, but she humors him. They sit down in his studio together and begin.
It becomes an exercise in getting to know her, somehow, on a level that he hadn't explored before. She spends a long time talking about the shape of his eyes, the fan of his eyelashes, and the color of his irises. Her cheeks stain with embarrassment, and his heart knocks against his ribs, trying to escape, maybe even trying to reach out to her.
She has something to say about details he'd never even thought of before. The angle of his chin, the exact colour of his hair. She has descriptions that don't make much sense to him too. His smile is like spring and his scars are like marigolds. When given time, Katniss ends up arranging a whole bouquet of wildflowers with her descriptions.
He loves her. He already knew that. Heck, people on the other side of the country already knew that, but he'd had no idea, somehow, he still had no idea the depth of Katniss's devotion. It's beautiful and seemingly never-ending and it fills his own heart with joy.
They create the portrait together, after many hours spent alone. It's a painting of his own face, yet, it holds a deep intimacy and he can't seem to look at it without smiling and blushing like a fool. He doesn't think of it as his, even if it's a painting of himself, the painting is wholly Katniss's. He presents it to her when he's finished and Katniss smiles warmly, looking down at it with such affection. She hangs it in the hall, near the bench where she keeps her arrows so she can look at it when she leaves every morning and when she comes back home. That part of the house is very private, he doesn't even really go there that often, so it feels special. To know that Katniss wanted to bring him there with her, in her own way.
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Text
Orc x Halforc!fem!reader
You're the clanleaders mixed race eldest daughter. Your older brother has one of his friends watch over you as you start to get eyed by other males in the clan, only for you to eye the rugged brute in charge of protecting you.
Contains: sexual tension, nudity, mentions of biting and scratching
Being the clanleaders eldest daughter was difficult enough, but being a half orc made your daily life annoying. Your mother was a very beautiful and brave woman, especially considering your father was one of the most feared warriors in the world before meeting her. After they had met, your father doted on your mother constantly, and still does to this day. He's still a terrifying warrior, he just doesn't go on raids as much anymore.
However, as you got older, you realized that your parents had painted a picture of your innocence for you that made finding a a partner difficult. You had always been one of the best warriors among everyone else around your age when you were growing up, but your parents always acted like you were the most fragile little thing. So what if you broke your arm a few months ago while on a hunt that got out of hand? You didn't need to have your weapons and armor confiscated.
You let out a deep sigh and rubbed your eyes, before your tent flaps are rudely ripped open, earning a groan out of you. You stubbornly rolled over in your bed and pulled the blankets over your head, not even looking at who might have stumbled into your tent.
"Go away idiot. Let me sleep." You groaned, closing your eyes as you assumed it was one of your many siblings coming to wake you up way too early. You hear the person clear their throat and your eyes shoot open. 'That's not one of my siblings'
"Grobur asked me to come and get you. He wants to talk to you." You're thrown off by the deep voice that haunts your dreams and your cheeks flush. Why did your brother have to send him everytime?
Gan. You have had a crush on him for years. Almost as long as you can remember. He was only a couple year older than you and your brother Grobur's best friend since childhood. He was always so stoic and calm around you, even when you were kids. He was the only person that seemed to actually treat you like you could take care of yourself, while still being protective over you. You loved how protective he would get with you at times, making sure the other men stayed in their place when they went too far with you during practice. Seeing him spar and beat the crap out of the person that tried to beat you put a strange thrilling twist in your stomach. Watching him fight with no armor and barely any clothes, seeing his sweaty green skin glistening in the sun. Each muscle rippling as you would think about how gently he hugs you for a big brute like him. You had to stop watching him so much when you caught yourself drooling one day.
"Today, princess." He grumbled with a hint of sass, breaking you out of your daydream. It was his nickanem for you. It was his way of teasing you. He loved calling you princess, but you always wish he would call you his princess. You grunted and pout as you sat up in bed, staring up at him as you held the blanket up to cover your body. You had picked a bad night to go to bed naked.
"How about you get out so I can put on some clothes? I don't think Grobur would appreciate you parading me around camp naked." You giggled teasingly. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape before quickly coughing to cover his embarrassment and turning around to avert his eyes completely and to prevent pitching a tent of his own. He kinda wished you would show him your gorgeous, bountiful breasts, but then he quickly shoved that thought to the back of his head so he could speak
"I-I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I'll be waiting outside for you." He said softly before leaving your tent. You sighed softly as you got up, slipping into some random clothes quickly, trying to calm your blushing face by rubbing your cheeks. After brushing your hair, you exit your tent and walk up to Gan. God he was massive. He was the largest male in the clan. Your eyes wander down his body briefly, wondering how big his di-
"Are you ready?" He asks you, interrupting your thoughts as you look back up at his face. He wasn't looking at you, seemingly trying to avoid looking at you while he took a step and started to walk ahead. You smile to yourself a little. Maybe you made him flustered?
"O-oh, uh, yes! Let's go." You stammer as you jump to follow him, doing a light jog to keep pace with him.
As you walk around camp, you don't notice the longing and lustful glances many of the males your age get on their faces as you walk by. The rugged orc leading you was the only male you had your eye on.
However, Gan does notice them. It infuriates him to no end that you're subjected to being seen by other males as a plaything, a trophy. None of them deserved you in his opinion. He could tell that in other males eyes, they just saw lust for you.
Gan made sure to look as intimidating as possible as he walked through camp with you, the other males quickly looking away from you when they saw him. When you started getting looks year ago, he started volunteering to escort you wherever you needed to go, under the guise of being sent there by your brother to make sure you were safe. He didn't trust anyone else to guard you, but him. Not like you particularly needed it. Your frame may only come up to his pecs, but you still had orc-like strength. You were strong even when you two were growing up, often besting him in sparring matches when you were little until he got too big for you to pin down.
His mind wanders until he remembers how your hair and clothes would get tousled around when you two had your last sparring match a few months ago. He loved it when you looked so determined in battle, licking and bearing your short, sharp tusks as you tried to catch your breath. Seeing you all sweaty, breathing heavily because of him drove him crazy. Your body was strong, but soft to the touch. Your curves drove him nuts and the muscles under your softness were to die for. You were so soft to him that it was like you could bruise at any moment, but you never did. He could throw you around for what felt like hours and you'd leave with barely a scratch, while he was left with your scratch marks and bites all over his arms and shoulders. Your sharp little tusks had left a few scars bethind over the years. You liked to fight dirty, and he loved it. He'd never admit it tho. He had to let you get him in a hold so he could tap out when he had noticed himself getting a bit too excited.
As you approached the large dining hall tent, you heard your brother and your parents talking happily at the head table, along with the rest of your siblings. Your brother is seated next to his wife, a stunningly beautiful female orc that waves to you with one hand, the other on her swollen pregnant belly.
"(Y/n)! Good morning!" She cheerfully greets. Everyone else at the table smiles at you and welcomes you to sit at the table. You wonder what they're so chipper about.
"Good morning everyone." You say softly before yawning, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you stood next to Gan.
"We have some good news for you sweetie." Your mom says with a smile. "You know how we've been worried about you getting a mate? Well, we decided to pick someone to watch over you-"
"Mom, I can take care of myself. I don't need someone watching over me all the time." You cut her off, already not wanting to entertain the idea of having a personal babysitter.
"(Y/n), we just want someone to keep an eye on you so no one tries to hurt you. We know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have someone watching out for you." Your brother says before rolling his eyes, his wife harshly nudging him with her elbow, making him grunt and clutch his side.
"I don't understand why you're so worried about me all the time. I rarely ever see anyone try to look at me, let alone talk to me!" You threw your hands up in the air in frustration, having absolutely no idea that you were standing next to the reason why.
"I don't think you realize how some of the other males have been looking at you lately. You're more than old enough to find a mate now, so males are going to start trying to get your attention more. Some of them might end up getting dangerous..." your mother said softly, an empathetic look on her face as she looked at you. She knew this frustrated you, but she wanted to make sure you were protected if anything were to go wrong. You looked back into her eyes and sighed softly. You knew it was better to have protection than not, and you knew they all meant well.
"I understand. I just hope it's temporary." You say with a hopeful smile, and your father nods.
"It will be. We promise. Once you've found a mate, your guard will be dismissed." Your father states and you let out a sigh of relief.
"Who's the poor sucker that has to try and keep track of her?" Your 13 year old brother chuckled to himself before shoving more food into his mouth, earning a punch to his shoulder from your 16 year old sister.
"I will be." The voice next to you states in a low grumble, glancing at you briefly with what you could swear was a small smirk.
God damn it
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tinyundercover · 3 days
Text
pepper & felix
part thirteen
:))))))) cw: excessive alcohol consumption word count: 4.1k
Pepper did not understand alcohol.
He was aware that humans drank it, but he was appalled as to why. In the last few years he had run into his fair share of humans that seemed to be overcome by the effects of alcohol, pink-faced and dizzy and loud, and he had always avoided them. Why would humans do this to themselves?
He and Basil had grown up in a bakery, surrounded by warmth and sugar, so Pepper hadn’t been exposed to alcohol until he moved out at the age of nineteen. After two weeks of traveling, he had found his first home– a small house occupied by a middle-aged human couple. It had been frightening to live somewhere entirely new, but it had turned out to be a comfortable home for him.
For two years, he had observed the human couple, and had been confused by their occasional consumption of alcohol. Once, after running across some leftover liquor in a glass, he had even tried a sip. His curiosity had left him choking and spluttering and absolutely revolted by the humans’ drink. His confusion had only increased.
After the humans had noticed their things going missing and had begun to set out mouse traps, Pepper had been forced to leave their house and search for a new home. He had made his way into an apartment complex around the time he turned twenty-one years old, and had built a new home within the walls of an introverted, blonde human, who Pepper pleasantly noticed very rarely drank alcohol.
Now, he stood on the arm of the human’s couch, staring up at said human in front of him. 
“I thought you didn’t like parties,” he pointed out, brow furrowing. 
Felix sighed, features soft. “I don’t, not really,” he admitted, leaning down to see Pepper better. “But I kind of have to go to this one.”
“Why?” Pepper asked incredulously.
“I dunno… it’s a cast party, so it would be a little rude for me not to show up, I guess. I already told everyone I would go.”
Pepper shook his head, astounded. He couldn’t imagine attending any kind of party, especially one he didn’t want to go to. As far as he knew, human parties consisted of large groups of humans getting together to be incredibly loud and take up space. It sounded awful.
“I’m only gonna go for a little bit,” Felix continued, gaze dancing over Pepper’s uneasy form. It was hard to tell why Pepper was so uncomfortable with this. 
To be honest, Pepper wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, either. Looking up at Felix, taking in the entirety of the human’s tall and imposing form, his stomach fluttered. Felix, surely, would be able to take care of himself in the presence of so many other humans. Pepper shouldn’t worry.
Pepper nodded slowly, crossing his arms. “Alright.”
“It’ll be okay,” Felix promised, straightening up. He wore a baggy graphic tee and blue jeans, reminding Pepper that this was a comfortable, casual event for the human. The borrower forced himself to take a deep breath and nodded again.
“Right,” he agreed unhappily. “I’ll see you later.”
However, as listened to the sound of the front door closing moments later, he couldn’t fight the feeling that something awful was bound to happen.
Forty people was a lot to fit into Ricky’s small apartment.
Felix weaved his way through the crowd in the kitchen, gaze searching, feeling incredibly out of place. Every so often someone would stop him to say hi, only to abandon the conversation a moment later, making Felix wonder how useless his social skills could be. Relief filled his chest when he spotted Breanna and Owen, chatting by the wall, and he gratefully walked over to them. “Hey.”
“Felix!” Breanna lit up instantly. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
Felix checked his phone, sheepishly observing the fact that he was over an hour late. He had stalled by talking to Pepper for far too long. “Is Alice here?”
Owen took a sip of his drink, because unlike Felix and Breanna, he was happy to have a few drinks when they went to parties. “Yeah, somewhere.”
“What are you doing here?”
Owen grinned. “I like parties.”
Felix let out a breathy laugh. Despite the fact that Owen wasn’t in the cast, it was nice to see a familiar face. Owen had accompanied his three friends to so many theater events that he might as well be considered an honorary theater member at this point.
The next twenty minutes were bearable, as Felix lingered by the wall with his friends. Music filled the air, blasting from a speaker, so Felix was forced to lean in close to his friends to even hear them properly. 
When Alice approached them, Felix almost forgot the weird situation the two of them were currently in, more relieved to have another face he recognized as a friend. Her black hair had been pulled into a slicked-back ponytail, revealing the sharpness of her expression as she glanced over Felix. A red solo cup was held in her hand. “Hey, Felix.”
“Hey.” Felix opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss for words, hesitantly turning away from Alice to listen in on Breanna and Owen’s conversation. The tension in the air suddenly filled his lungs.
The past week of rehearsals had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Felix and Alice didn’t say much to each other, both of them gravitating towards Breanna as their closest friend. Felix didn’t know what to do, or how to repair his relationship with Alice.
Were they fighting? He thought that they had cleared things up, but Alice’s lingering frowns and cold eyes made him feel like they weren’t past the borrower situation. He wanted to bring it up to her, but he was terrified of somehow betraying the borrowers, or rubbing salt into the freshly opened wound of his and Alice’s relationship. He didn’t know what to do.
“Rehearsals have been crazy, huh?” Alice remarked suddenly.
Felix met her gaze, peering intently. “Yeah,” he agreed after a moment, grateful that Alice had broken the tension first. “Yeah, how have you been holding up?”
Alice laughed, then took a long sip of her drink. Felix vaguely noticed the pink twinge in her cheeks. “If Mrs. Shelton makes us run the ballroom dance one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”
Felix let out a laugh at that. In rehearsal yesterday, he and Alice had spent hours working on one singular dance scene between Ariel and Eric. It had become exhausting after a while, especially considering the fact that the two of them were barely on speaking terms and had to act like they were madly in love. Being able to laugh about it brought a warm feeling into Felix’s chest. 
After a few minutes, Breanna and Owen tuned into Felix and Alice’s conversation. The four of them together, laughing and comfortable, was something Felix had missed greatly. He hoped that Alice felt the same.
An hour into the party Ricky organized karaoke, which the cast grew ecstatic for. The majority of them crammed into the large space of the living room, and Felix and Alice watched in amusement as Breanna dragged Owen towards a microphone and insisted that he sing a duet with her. 
“Owen should sing more,” Alice commented as the redhead reluctantly began a few rocky notes, grinning at Breanna. “He’s got a good voice.”
Felix hummed in agreement, arms crossing. The pair of them lingered by the door to the kitchen, and after a moment Alice peered into her empty cup. “I’m going to the kitchen,” she decided. “Do you want anything?”
“I don’t really drink.”
“Forgot. Sorry.” Alice shrugged and slipped away.
Felix turned back to Breanna and Owen, who were now belting enthusiastically into their mics. An uncomfortable feeling fixed around Felix’s chest, and he turned and followed Alice into the kitchen.
Alice stood alone by the counter, filling her solo cup from a bowl of spiked punch. She glanced up as Felix approached. “Changed your mind?”
“No, I just… wanted to talk to you,” Felix admitted, leaning against the counter. Alice eyed him, bringing her cup to her lips, expectant. Felix hesitantly continued. “Is everything… okay with us?”
Alice took a few extra seconds to set her cup down, stalling. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Felix kept his voice light, raising his eyebrows. Alice’s lips twitched into a smile, then dropped, and she lowered her gaze. “I mean, you’re my closest friend, Alice. I don’t want things to get weird between us just because of one little mistake.”
Alice nodded slowly, continuing to avoid Felix’s gaze. Her fingers drummed over her cup. “I don’t know.”
Felix’s heart fell. “What?”
“I don’t know,” Alice repeated, blue gaze flickering. There was no malice or anger in her quiet voice. At Felix’s startled silence, she continued, turning her body towards him. “I mean, are those… people still in your apartment?”
Felix flushed, glancing away. “Uh… no, no, they’re not.”
Silence stretched between them for a bit too long. Alice’s eyebrows raised pointedly. “They are, aren’t they?”
“No,” Felix insisted lamely. 
Alice remained quiet, taking a sip of her drink, and Felix’s stomach twisted. When she finally spoke, it was to say, “I just… I feel hurt.”
“You… what?”
“I’m hurt. I get it, I made a mistake, but you treated me— you’ve been treating me— like I’m this awful person.” Alice’s voice rose suddenly, the redness of her cheeks growing. “You won’t even look at me in rehearsal.”
A cold, heavy feeling settled into Felix’s chest, and he took a step back. Realization hit him like a truck. “Wait, you…”
All this time, he thought that Alice had been intentionally avoiding him. Had he really been ignoring her so pointedly?
“That’s not true,” Felix began quickly, suddenly desperate to explain himself. “I’m just worried for the borrowers.”
Alice’s lips thinned. “Borrowers?”
Shit. 
“Alice—”
“What are you worried about?” Alice continued, aghast. “What, that I might take them again? Do you think I haven’t learned my lesson?”
The anger in her face fell away as two more people entered the room. Felix and Alice turned sharply towards Breanna and Owen, who immediately pounced on them.
“Did you hear our song?” Breanna pressed excitedly, not catching onto the tension in the air. “Owen fucked up that high note, did you hear that?”
“I did,” Owen insisted, uncharacteristically proud of his singing voice. 
Felix and Alice must have hesitated for a bit too long, because their two friends’ faces immediately dropped, glancing between them.
“Did something happen?” Breanna asked in alarm.
Alice met Felix’s gaze, a glint in her eye. “Why don’t you tell them?” She grumbled, her flush deepening.
The three others jerked back at her hostility. Owen’s eyebrows raised. “Holy shit. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Felix insisted, heart racing. 
“It’s not nothing,” Alice snapped.
“How much have you had to drink?” Breanna interrupted, dark eyes wide with concern as she glanced over Alice. Her nervous gaze turned to Felix, as if he might answer her question. “Is she okay?”
Alice sucked in a sharp breath, voice tense. “I’m fine. Felix, for the love of god, just tell them.”
“Tell us what?”
“I’m not gonna— Alice, I’m not supposed to tell—”
“What, you don’t trust them, either?” 
Alice’s words made Felix freeze. He blinked rapidly, glancing between his three friends, one of which was glaring menacingly and the other two were uneasily watching. His mouth was dry when he said, “Of course I trust you guys. It’s just… it’s not my secret to tell.”
“Oh, why not?” Alice said exasperatedly, leaning closer. “What do you think is gonna happen?”
For a moment, the only noise in the room was the distant sound of someone singing karaoke, comically juxtaposed to the tension in the kitchen. 
Breanna’s voice was quiet. “Guys, maybe you should get some water, sit down—”
“Felix doesn’t trust us,” Alice decided suddenly, jerking away. “He thinks we might hurt his little friends.”
Panic jumped up into Felix’s throat. “Alice.”
“And I did, but barely, and I said sorry, but he still acts like I—”
“Alice!” Felix interjected, chest tight. “Please.”
Alice stared at him for a moment, face flushed, before she tore away from their group and stormed out the door. Breanna stared at Felix, stunned and unsure, before following after Alice.
Felix and Owen were left alone. Owen’s gaze flickered over Felix, curious, silent.
“Owen,” Felix began weakly. “I…”
His friend only lifted his eyebrows, and Felix faltered, leaning back against the counter and bringing a hand to his forehead. The cold feeling had spread from chest throughout his whole body, leaving him feeling numb and unwell. 
Felix’s hand knocked into a glass bottle. 
Suddenly emboldened by the misery in his chest, Felix turned his head defeatedly. “Let’s do some shots.”
The quiet whirr of the AC filled the room as the only background noise. Pepper sat on the back of the couch, absentmindedly stitching up a rip in his jacket, draped over his lap.
After Felix had left, Pepper had chosen to remain seated on the couch, waiting for his friend to return. He didn’t have much to do at his home, and he didn’t see the point of walking all the way back there just yet, since Basil wasn’t there. Yesterday she had expressed her guilt to Pepper that she had been “overstaying her welcome” and “third-wheeling,” and since then she had been exploring the expanse of the apartment building, searching for a nearby place to build a home. 
Pepper was worried for her, but he was confident in her abilities to survive on her own. There was no telling when she might return, considering that she might travel all the way back to her original house to explain everything to the borrower family she lived with. He felt guilty that she had gotten caught up in his strange situation with Felix, leaving her feeling like she needed to give them space but also wanting to stick around and provide emotional support to her brother. Moving into her own place in the apartment building seemed like the best solution for the time being.
A sigh let Pepper’s body, and he dropped back, resting his head on the thick surface of the couch. The ceiling stretched high above him, reminding him just how out of place he was in this massive apartment. He had hoped that by spending time in Felix’s apartment by himself, he would grow more comfortable being in such an open space, but his heart still continued to twist every time he remembered how vulnerable he was, out in the open. 
The sound of the front door opening made Pepper instinctively sit up, clutching his jacket. The panic that shot through his body flickered away as he registered that it could only be Felix, and he relaxed. He busied himself by finishing up the stitching of his jacket as he waited for Felix to enter the living room.
It took a surprisingly long time. Footsteps filled the kitchen, followed by the occasional bump or clatter. Something in the back of Pepper’s mind hummed concerning, but he barely acknowledged it, turning his head as a tall figure finally appeared in the doorway.
Almost immediately, Pepper sensed that something was wrong.
Felix, at his enormous height, appeared to have lost his ability to stand properly. A large hand grasped the door frame in order to hold himself up, and despite this Felix still managed to sway back and forth, body unsteady. Pepper’s skin prickled uneasily. The blonde hair atop Felix’s head was slightly disheveled, as if he had just rolled out of bed, and even from across the room Pepper could see the glassiness of his half-lidded eyes as they searched the room.
Pepper’s breath hitched, coldness swarming his chest. He suddenly found that he was frozen, completely isolated on top of the couch. Vulnerability struck him like lightning, and with a dry mouth he shoved his jacket aside, pulling himself to his feet. 
That turned out to be the wrong thing to do. Felix’s gaze was tugged towards Pepper’s movement, and when the human’s eyes finally landed on him Pepper’s instincts all but screamed in his mind.
He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with Felix, but he didn’t want to stick around and find out.
Felix didn’t seem to notice the way Pepper’s face had gone pale. The human positively lit up at the sight of the borrower, standing frozen on the back of the couch. “Pepper.”
The borrower’s jaw tightened, unable to pull his gaze away from the unsettling sight of his friend. His breath hitched when Felix suddenly approached, stumbling but still much too fast for comfort, and the borrower backed up as much as he could without tumbling off the couch.
“Felix, wha—!” Alarms shrieked in Pepper’s mind at the sight of two massive, foreboding hands reaching for him, and before he could even think to run he was being swept up into a grip far more powerful than he could ever hope to be. “Hey!”
His heart raced in panic. Felix’s unusually clumsy fingers somehow managed to be both too tight and not tight enough, and Pepper gasped, latching onto the fingers around him lest he fall through. The sudden terror that gripped his throat was suffocating.
For the first time since their first meeting, Felix had picked Pepper up without warning. 
“Look at you,” Felix cooed, words slurring. The pink of his cheeks was much more visible from so close, rosy and warm. “You’re so cute.”
Pepper’s breath shuddered, gray eyes wide and startled. Felix was holding him close to his face, closer than he ever had before, allowing the scent of alcohol to hit the borrower and bring the realization crashing down that Felix was drunk.
Hot panic filled Pepper’s chest as he searched Felix’s soft, glassy blue eyes. His lack of experience with alcohol had not prepared him for anything like this. He barely even understood its purpose or effects, let alone how to deal with a giant who was so incredibly drunk he had forgotten how to hold a borrower properly.
Pepper swallowed thickly, heels sliding on Felix’s palm. Felix’s forefinger and thumb were tight around Pepper’s torso, bunching the borrower’s shirt up uncomfortably. His gaze wandered Felix’s face, at an absolute loss of what to do.
“Felix,” Pepper said slowly, carefully. Fear crept up into his throat. “Felix, put me down.”
He couldn’t tell if Felix was listening, or if he could even understand him. He was answered by a sudden punch of vertigo, the air rushing up around him, drawing an exclamation from his chest. “Ah!”
Felix had collapsed onto the couch, knocking the wind out of Pepper’s lungs. The borrower gasped for breath, squirming in Felix’s grip, gaze dancing as he searched for some sort of escape route.
“I missed you,” Felix announced, haphazardly ruffling Pepper’s hair with a finger. The borrower jerked away, startled. “The party— the party wasn’t good.”
Felix spoke as if the words weren’t fitting properly in his mouth, unusual and misshapen. 
“Felix,” Pepper said again, breaths quick and uneven. How long did it take for alcohol to wear off? He had no idea. “You should— put— put me down.”
“I don’t want to,” Felix responded, warm and bright. The words made Pepper’s blood run cold. “You’re— I want… you’re my soulmate.”
“I— I know—” Pepper shivered, pushing anxiously at the fingers around him. He couldn’t handle such close proximity to Felix’s face and his large, warm fingers overwhelming him. They usually were so gentle. 
Felix wasn’t hurting him, but there was a distinct lack of care in the way he was handling Pepper, clumsily and oppressive. Pepper didn’t think that Felix would hurt him intentionally, but the idea that he might accidentally be harmed was very, very prominent in his mind.
“You’re my soulmate and you’re tiny,” Felix suddenly giggled, poking at Pepper’s trembling chest. 
Before Pepper could process what was happening, Felix lost his balance and fell to the side. Pepper yelped, tumbling onto the soft cushion of the couch, catching his breath only when Felix had propped himself up on his elbows, gaze bleary.
The realization that Felix was now hovering over Pepper, shoulders large and towering, sent Pepper’s panic skyrocketing all over again. The borrower scrambled back until he bumped into the arm of the couch.
“Oh,” Felix said, as if he only just realized that he had collapsed. His forearms trapped Pepper into a box, and he blinked several times as he processed the borrower standing only a few inches in front of his face. “Be careful.”
With the massive hands next to him, and the arm of the couch behind him, Pepper had nowhere to go. His lips tightened, processing Felix’s words. “Felix?”
“You’re… little,” Felix hiccuped, moving his hands to cradle Pepper from behind. “You could get hurt.”
Pepper took a moment to steady his breathing, glancing at the hands behind him. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Felix, just don’t—”
In one quick movement, Felix swept Pepper into his palm. He leaned forward, and suddenly he was pressing his soft lips into Pepper’s chest in a big, clumsy kiss.
Shock exploded into Pepper’s heart. The heat that radiated from Felix was overwhelming, enveloping the borrower in fire. The lips against Pepper’s body were soft but so underlyingly powerful, and all he could think about was how close he was to a giant’s mouth and how easily said giant could trap him between his teeth without a second’s thought.
The light pressure vanished as Felix pulled away, then erupted into a fit of giggles, so uncharacteristic for him. Pepper blinked up at him, face scarlet.
“I kissed you,” Felix whispered teasingly, as if he was sharing a secret.
Embarrassment crept into Pepper’s face, growing even hotter. He slowly straightened up, examining Felix’s face. “You— you should go to bed,” he forced out, voice wobbling. 
Thankfully, Felix actually seemed to register what he was saying, and he nodded. His large, clumsy hands tightened around Pepper, securing him as he pulled himself to his feet, leaving the borrower gasping for a few seconds.
Pepper only realized what was happening when Felix made his way over to his bedroom, the borrower held against his chest. “Hang on,” he called, heart racing. “Wait. You don’t need to take me with you.”
Pepper rarely ever entered Felix’s bedroom. Not only was there nothing of use in here that he couldn't find in the living room, but it just felt like an invasion of privacy, even before he had become friends with Felix. He felt guilty being in here while Felix was under the influence and clearly not entirely aware of what was happening.
“Oh— wait, waitwaitwait—”
Felix unceremoniously flopped down onto his bed, cradling Pepper against him and knocking the wind out of the borrower. The world spun for a moment, and Pepper took a deep breath, blinking up at the ceiling. The ground below him was soft and warm. 
“Goodnight, Pepper,” Felix said with a yawn.
His voice had floated from somewhere above Pepper’s head, making the borrower freeze and register exactly where he was.
The soft fabric of Felix’s shirt. The distant heartbeat. The gentle sway of enormous breaths.
Pepper was sprawled out on Felix’s chest, enveloped by a hand larger than himself. The panic that had spiked in Pepper’s body slowly subsided into uneasy breathing, and the borrower attempted to sit up.
“Felix,” Pepper said weakly, squirming. The hand atop of him was heavy, pinning him down effortlessly by its weight alone. “I don’t sleep here.”
“Hmm,” Felix responded noncommittally, the noise rumbling deep in his chest. Pepper’s breath caught in his throat, face warm.
“Felix,” he demanded, trying to twist so that he could look up at the human. He was met by silence, and the slow movement of sleeping lungs below him.
Pepper’s heart continued to pound, much louder than the heart thudding away below him. Felix’s hand wasn’t hurting him, just very slightly pinning him down, cradling him against the warm chest below him. This was the closest he had ever been to Felix in his life.
It wasn’t exactly… uncomfortable.
He tentatively shoved at the hand one more time, then promptly gave up, flopping down with a huff. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, listening to the idle sounds of the air conditioning and Felix’s breathing, before taking a deep breath and slumping his shoulders. Forcing himself to shift into a more comfortable position, he closed his eyes, sank into the heat surrounding him, and prayed that Felix wasn’t the type to move in his sleep.
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YAAAYYYYYY DRUNK GIANTS :DDDDD
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had fun writing it :))
TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169 @entomolog-t @gtzel @gt-newbie @da3dm @clumsiergiantess @vee-normous @fee-hunter @torakan
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