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sugarcoatedstarkey · 2 months

Text

Firsts

pairings - Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

summary - Rafe was always there for your firsts.

warnings - drinking, drugs, language, fem receiving oral. (18+)

An/ I have other fics I should be finishing but this came to me this morning and I needed to write it!

Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was your first everything.

First friend, first girl boy hug, first kiss, first touch, first time, you hadn’t expected him to be your first heartbreak though.

Having been friends with him the moment your eyes landed on the quiet boy who sat on the browning grass, staring out at the kids playing. You can still remember the slight scowl on his chubby little face, you took it upon yourself to be friends with him.

Surprisingly he wanted to be your friend just as much as you wanted to be his, from that moment on the two of you were inseparable. It helped that you moved in next door to him, your parents becoming fast friends.

Throwback to the ripe age of 18, the night he broke your heart. You weren’t together, you were just best friends. Best friends that shared each other's firsts and seconds and so on. Neither of you put a label on the love you shared.

You wished you had though, the moment your eyes landed on his hands laced through Rebecca Jones’s tiny delicate hand, you knew that was the end.

He didn’t greet you that night, didn’t pull you into his famous bone crushing hug or whisper about how annoying everyone was. Instead he ignored you, Rebecca and his friends followed behind him as though he was royalty.

He wore a frightening smirk on his face the whole night, shoved at JJ Maybank who was hired as wait staff along with a fair few other pogues. Made a scene and called them names, at one point his father even had to get involved.

You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of the man in front of you, no longer the person you wanted to share your firsts with.

Fast forward to 21, you haven't spoken to him in three years. You couldn’t deny you missed him deeply, his picture still hung from the thin string lining your bedroom wall. But it was only one photo compared to the 300 you had tucked under your bed along with other memories.

It was your birthday, your eyes skimmed the people in the garden setting up for your party. Your eyes shooting to the silk black dress that hung in the doorway of your ensuite, darting your eyes back over the lawn and up at the tall house beside yours.

Your eyes search for a glimpse of Rafe but no life was found in the windows or the balcony. Letting out a soft sigh, you pushed yourself to stand. You didn’t have much time to get ready, your friends would be here soon and would want to start drinking the moment they stepped into your room.

45 minutes later you found yourself on the back porch, nursing a pornstar martini that your friend Elle had made. People had started to arrive and the sun had begun to set, your eyes searching through the sea of people for Rafe. You knew he wouldn’t show, even though at the age of 12 he promised to throw you the biggest 21st, just like the people on tv.

“Hey!”

You jumped slightly in your seat at the brazen voice, eyes landing on your friends who stared at you with worry. “What?” You questioned, grabbing a napkin you dabbed at the liquid that ran down your chest.

“I said, Barry is waiting for you by the side gate”.

All you do is nod and stand, Elle passes you the envelope of cash and keeps her eyes on the people around her. Tucking the folded up envelope in your bra, you make your way to the side of the house.

The music is loud and everyone is having a good time, your parents have gone out for the weekend to give you some space. Your friends had decided they wanted to buy something stronger than weed but were too scared of Barry to organize it themselves, but you apparently had no fear these days.

“Princess”

You knew you made a mistake instantly, Barry lent against the fence in a wife beater and ratty shorts. Smoke surrounded his face, stepping out of the dark he stopped in front of you.

You stood at the same height as him, if you had opted for heels you would have towered over him. “That dress looks good on you”.

“Here’s your money”

He cocked his head and kissed his teeth, eyes roaming your body unashamedly. You take a step back but he’s quick to step forward, gripping your wrist that held the envelope. “How about I give you something that’ll blow your mind but you pay a different way”

You shook your head instantly, you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, the way his eyes darkened at the sight of you. “No I don’t think so… take the cash”

A throaty laugh escapes his lips and he tugs you towards him, your palm smacks his chest to keep you from falling into him further. You can smell the cigarette on his breath, scrunching your nose up when his lips ghost your cheek. “How about you get on your knees and put that pretty little mouth to good use”.

You tug on your wrist but his grip tightens, slipping his tongue out to wet his lips. “I have the cash, please just take the cash”.

His palm meets your shoulder, he uses all his strength to push your body to the floor and your knees hit the gravel. “Barry” you grit, your clenched fist meets his stomach and he doubles over in pain. “You bitch!”.

He coughs loudly and the little baggie falls to the floor, you're quick to grab it and jump up, throwing the envelope to his feet you step back but meet a hard wall. “Do we have a problem?”

All words that sat on the tip of your tongue vanished at the sight of Rafe, his eyes are hard and pointed at Barry. “I have the cash to pay him” your voice is just above a whisper, the skin of your bicep tingles at the feeling of Rafe’s fingers gripping tightly. “I don’t want the cash.. I want her on her knees” Barry growls, he stands up straight and steps towards you again. Pressing your back firmly against Rafe’s chest, he’s quick to pull you behind him. “She’s with me Barry”

“Oh shit man… I didn’t know she was yours!”

“She’s mine”

The goosebumps are back and butterflies swarm your belly, you zone out for what feels like a second but when you come back down to reality, Rafe is ushering you away from the scene, eyes cocking to see Barry hopping on his bike and the envelope you had for him inside his back pocket.

“I didn’t need your help”

You're not sure why you even said that, of course you needed help. There was no way you were leaving with anything unless you sucked Barry off. Rafe ignores you, pushing you forward by your lower back until you're back with your friends. Your fingers tighten around the baggie, hiding it from Rafe’s eyes.

You didn’t care that he knew you were buying drugs, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him snort lines at every party. It just felt strange, your first time doing something harder then weed wasn’t with him.

All your friends' eyes are on the two of you, mouths opened in shock. Before anyone can say anything he’s walking away, slipping into the crowd of people and disappearing. “What just happened?”

“Let’s get high”

The four of you lock yourself in the bathroom, opening the small baggie you pour the contents into your palm. “Did he say what it was?”

You shook your head, placing a small pill on the tip of your tongue. Each of their eyes watch as you swallow, holding out your palm for them to grab.

“I’m scared… I feel like we shouldn’t trust what he gives us”

“It’s fine, if it had been anything bad he would have told Rafe.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do Elle.. take the damn pill”

Each of them grab a pill and swallow, you put the rest back into the bag and hide it under the toilet sink inside your tampon box.

You're out the door before any of them can stop you, grabbing a bottle of champagne from the bench and heading back outside. Your feet take you further into the party, looking for Rafe. You hadn’t expected him to show up, your parents made you invite him since it would have been rude to throw a party next door without inviting your oldest friend.

You spot Rafe instantly, sipping on a beer and leaning against a pole. Topper and Kelce stand beside him as the two of them chat, Rafe’s eyes meet you for a brief moment before turning away from you.

Anger bubbles in your chest, storming back through the party. The bottle of champagne now half empty by the time you make it to your bathroom, the anger fuels the stupidity in your brain.

Grabbing the pills from the tampon box you take another, wanting the effects of the drug to hit you faster. But by the time you’ve taken the last step of the patio you're swaying, throwing your arms out to brace yourself. “Shit” you laugh, the empty bottle of champagne hitting the grass with a thud.

“Come dance!” Elle shouted, her tiny arms waving above her head. With wobbly legs you make your way to your friends, dancing wildly with them until a hot body comes up behind you and circles their arm around your waist, pressing you firmly to their crotch. “Hey”

You let the person dance against you, hands wandering your thighs and your stomach. The fingers of the stranger behind you brushes the underneath of your breasts before groping a handful, your mouth parts just a tiny bit and your ass presses firmer against him.

“What the fuck?”

Spinning on the spot at the loss of warmth behind you, the guy who had been dancing with you was on the floor. Rafe towered over you once again, his fingers grip your bicep and he’s pulling you away from the party. You notice no one watches the two of you, music drowning out any chatter around them.

“Rafe! What the hell is your problem!” You growl, wriggling in his grip only causing further pain to your arm. You give up rather quickly and let him drag you back into the house, pushing you through the door of the downstairs bathroom and closing the door behind him.

You press up against the bathroom sink and cross your arms, your eyes drift up and down his body. You can hear the harsh breaths Rafe was letting out, his forehead creased in anger. “I haven’t spoken to you in 3 years… you can’t just show up and manhandle me”.

His eyes meet yours finally and he takes a step closer, not close enough for you to touch him though. His cologne invades your nostrils and your cheeks heat from the memories of his hands on your body. “If you're not going to talk I’m leaving… it’s my birthday”.

His eyes finally drop from your eyes and he takes in your body, starting at your sneakers, drinking in the sight of your slender long legs, stopping for a tad longer on your breasts and then back up to your eyes.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ear, Goosebumps litter your skin and you have to brace yourself against the vanity table, legs wobbling from his gaze. “Happy birthday”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your shoulders relax at the sound of his voice. A voice you hadn’t heard up close in so long, a voice you dreamt about every night. “Thanks”.

The both of you are silent again, the sound of the party behind the door grows louder as the drugs start to lose their effect. “You look nice”

“Thanks”

He takes a step closer again, the toes of his shoes meet yours. The two of you look down briefly and then back at each other, you can smell the scotch on his breath, it's intoxicating.

“Rafe” your fingers touch his bicep softly, electricity flows through the tips of your fingers all the way to your heart. “I’ve missed you” he whispers seconds before his lips are on yours, all the memories you share together hit you like a tidal wave. Your knees buckle but he’s quick to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to his chest.

“Missed you so much” he grunts, lips peppering kisses against yours. Down your jaw until they meet the base of your throat and he sucks hard, a soft whine escapes your parted lips. “Fuck”.

He grips your hips and drops you on the vanity table, pushing himself between your parted thighs, the heels of your shoes press firmly against his backside, pulling him closer to you. “You taste so fucking good”.

“Fuck Rafe… just like that” you whine, his hips roll against yours. His fingers grope and massage the skin of your thigh, pushing up the length of your dress to expose your nude thong. Your arousal soaks the front of your panties, your knees try to lock together in embarrassment but his thick frame holds them out. “I still make you as wet as I did 3 years ago” he groans, with one swift movement he’s ripped them at the crotch. Your pretty wet pussy exposed to his hungry eyes, his large hands tug you closer to the edge of the sink, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The sight has you clenching around nothing, arousal weeping from your needy hole. He places your feet on his shoulders and situates himself between your thighs. “Be a good girl for me y/n… let me eat your pussy for your birthday”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod frantically, the tip of his nose brushes your delicate clit. Your hips jut up to his face, a wicked smile paints itself on his lips. His tongue drops out slowly, the sight of the wet muscle has you whining. “Happy birthday sweetheart”

His hot tongue glides between your folds, your head falling back against the mirror in pure delight. “Oh fuck” you cried, pressing the balls of your feet into his shoulders. His hands grip the outside of your thighs, pulling your legs further apart until he can see your cunt in all its glory, glistening from your arousal. He could see your inner muscles clenching at the sight of him watching you. “Please Rafe” you begged, his lips dropped back to your pussy. Sucking and licking your overly sensitive nub, two of his fingers slip between your opening. Your back arching as he tapped at your g spot, you're sure you can see stars as he works himself on your pussy. “Sweet Jesus… Rafe! Yes yes yes”

The grunt of his approval vibrates against your clit, grinding your hips into his face. Your arousal coats his lower half, nose red from pressing himself so deep into your cunt. “I’m close! Rafe… right there! Holy shittt” your screams can be heard outside the bathroom door, the grip on your thighs are tight as he holds you close to him. You ride out your high, a thin layer sweat coats your chest and forehead. The back of your head hurts from the brutal force of you pushing against the mirror to steady yourself, you watch in silence as Rafe pulls away from you. Just as you open your mouth there are loud bangs on the bathroom door.

“Rafe! Man! Rafe quick Rebecca is outside looking for you!”

He’s out the door in seconds, leaving you alone and feeling dirty. Pressing your thighs closed you let out a silent sob, tears stream your face as you clean yourself up and throw away the ripped panties.

You take a few moments to calm down and slap some sense into yourself, you should have known Rafe was still seeing her. You should have told him to leave the moment he turned up, he was the Rafe you knew.

You exit the bathroom quietly and rush back downstairs in search of a drink, grabbing ahold of the tequila bottle.

As you step onto the patio, your friends quickly greet you. Your eyes stay on Rafe though, ignoring the chatter behind you, your eyes fall to the hand of Rebecca’s, it lay upon his chest in a gesture of adoration. A beautiful diamond placed upon her ring finger, the butterflies in your belly all but die. The beating of your heart is the only thing you hear, he notices where your eyes have landed and he is quick to place his much bigger hand over hers, hiding the beautiful ring from your vision.

He’s engaged.

Rafe Cameron got engaged.

Rafe Cameron had his first engagement and it wasn’t with you…

“Come on let’s go dance” Elle says, noticing the way both you and Rafe stare at each other. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment when Rebecca reaches up to kiss his cheek, bringing the bottle of tequila to your lips. The alcohol burns your throat in the most satisfying way.

Your eyes open to catch the worry that finds its way onto his features as he watches you throw back way too much alcohol for your small body.

“Let’s get fuck up” you exclaim, walking away from your friends and towards the bar your parents had hired for the night.

“4 shots please… actually nah, just give me that bottle of whiskey”.

🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @maybankslover @h34rtsformilli @hallecarey1 @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @gabys-gabs @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @spookyscaryspoon @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @oceandriveab @slut4ani @spideysimpossiblegirl @kamninaries @rubixgsworld @pickingviolets @wearemadeofstardust0 @one-sweet-gubler (if I have forgotten you please let me know)

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earthtooz · 2 years

Text

thinking about bakugo katsuki, who just wants to prove to you more than anything that he'd be an amazing boyfriend.

it begins with little things.

he tells you if there's something on your face, if there's something in between your teeth that hinders your beautiful smile. he tells you if your tie or uniform is out of place but can never hold back a 'be more careful, idiot' as he helps you fix the stray mistake. he looks away when you laugh at his preciseness. he stops your cup of water from falling over, puts his hands over any hazards that will hurt if you bump into them, all those kinds of small things.

he gives you all of his attention when you directly address him. whether it be a comment, a compliment, or a question, bakugo always gives you 100% of himself as long as you're direct with him.

even if you don't specifically speak to him, he always listens too.

you could be talking to mina about a movie you watched and bakugo will be listening, leaning back in his seat, not even looking in your direction yet his ears are ENGAGED, he's taking in every word you say. he even searches the movie up later.

not that he wants to watch it- bakugo has no time to waste on these things. he's saving it for when he can watch it with you.

he always watches your reactions first whenever in a group. whether it be in class and being told about some exciting projects - internships, camps, whatever, bakugo always keens to gauge how you respond. alternatively, it could be bakugo and kirishima's turn to make dinner (bakugo carries), and the second it is served bakugo's watching intently for your reaction.

(he only agreed to making dinner because kirishima bribed him. how? well, he mentioned your name and bakugo got straight to washing the vegetables.)

his little acts then evolve. he saves seats for you at lunch when you can't make it to the cafeteria in time or when he knows you're too busy that you won't make it in time to get a portion of your favourite lunch, so he buys it for you.

you always thank him for his kindness and begin to repay him but bakugo always rejects it, waving you off. 'don't do it again because i'm not doing this for you again', he mutters and you simply smile because you both know there is a next time.

he grabs your hero suitcase for you, going out of his way to do this for no one else but you. he accepts your pleads for help whenever there's something from the classwork you can't understand, smirking triumphantly at deku and momo - the top students of the class, who are confused at bakugo's sudden smugness.

eventually you get comfortable with him, to the point that physical touch is not a big deal anymore. the first time you take the risk was laying your forehead on his shoulder from fatigue and almost everyone around you gawks at the collected expression bakugo wears.

you had muttered a quick 'sorry' as you lifted your head up but the blond grunts in response, not sure how else to say that it's okay and you can lean on him any time.

denki then tries to do so and almost gets half his hair charred off.

it then evolves to the point that bakugo's known you long enough to have memorised your orders at fast food chains, cafes, boba shops, etc. and he often buys your favourite snacks whenever he visits the local 7/11, and when he delivers them, you give him the brightest smile he's ever seen and the explosive blond knows that the slow decrease in funds of his bank account is totally worth it if it means he gets to make you happy. he often masks his feelings with a 'tch' before storming off.

90% of bakugo's language is insults, but he is mindful to never throw them at you. he doesn't want you to doubt yourself for one second, whether it be your strength, smarts, beauty, etc, he's mindful to exempt you from his 'extras' phrase, because you're probably the only special one to him from everyone in the class.

and he knows you're special because one night, you take him outside the dorms and onto the balcony, asking him out on a date and he almost explodes himself into the air with joy. his cheeks fluster up- so uncharacteristic of him, and he tries to keep up a 'cool guy facade' whilst accepting your offer.

"get ready, cause i'm about to take you out on the date of your fuckin' life."

"wh- bakugo, i was the one who asked!"

"and i'm gonna be the best boyfriend ever, so leave this shit to me!"

thinking about bakugo, who is known to be hard-to-date, unapproachable, unlikeable unless he kept his mouth shut.

thinking about bakugo katsuki, who is absolutely 'the best' boyfriend ever because you have never doubted his love for you for a single second, and he makes sure you never will.

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lovetei · 2 months

Note

I have been obsessed with Cell Block Tango recently, I always love stuff with the brothers reacting to Mc performing soo...

Could you write headcanons or a drabble about the brothers (Mammon, Leviathan and Beelzebub especially) reacting to mc performing Cell Block Tango?? Thanks!!! ^^

I love cell block Tango 🙈

And I hope you don't mind but I made this like the first part of the Idol AU

--------------------------------------------------

IDOL!MC: If you had been there, if you had seen it! I bet ya, you would have done the same!

Warnings: Suggestive themes, fake personality, foul language, back stage work, dark side of idol industry

Links: Masterlist

----------------- <- IDOL AU -> -----------------

You ended up taking the request on

You mean, it's hundreds of millions for just some short performance plus the birthday is private

Earning that would take months if you decided to keep your head high and refuse

And it benefits you so why not just accept right?

You'll earn hundreds of millions

And you'll increase your popularity among the socialites

"Who are the guests?" I asked as my make up artist add the final touches "The seven avatars, the prince of hell is together with his butler, the exchange students excluding the young angel, the heir of the greatest noble clan, mephistopheles, the reaper and some other nobles."

The make up artist smiled at you and signaled to leave after she's done with your make up "Damn this shit down to the dirtiest ring of hell." You cussed out as you slammed your hand to the table.

"Karasu." You called your assistants name "I can do this right?" You asked as you looked back at him with pure fear and hatred on your eyes that just makes his stomach feel butterflies "Of course..." He answered with such a love sick look.

You looked back at the mirror when suddenly hands appeared from your behind and crept itself up to your oh so precious face, pulling the corners of your lips upward to force a smile out.

"Smile now, dearest." You saw Karasu smiling through the mirror "The show is about to start." He reminded "Give them a good look of this now." He said as his hands fall from your lips to your neck and to your sides before squeezing your waist.

Inside the grand hall though, the greatest of the great are waiting for this so called monster that got almost everyone captivated.

The lower nobles are on the floor sitting on their assigned seats in a circular table.

And the higher ups are on the internal balconies.

A total of thirteen balconies sorrounding the whole hall with Levi sitting on the middle one.

And at the middle there sits a large circular platform where you will perform at and it's surrounded with some glass to prevent the audience from coming up the stage.

Lucifer is intrigued. His dear brother, Leviathan, have never asked for anything until now. He never even wanted to host a celebration for his birthday.

So when they had dinner and Levi decided to discuss this matter to everyone, they all dropped silent. The funds for this event is also extremely high as it only happens sometimes.

And he even requested a gift? "And what could you possibly want?" He asked with a smirk displayed on his face. He loved every moment on his life whenever one of his brothers show this much pride.

"Ah..." He mumbled knowingly after he made Asmodeus show him a picture of this idol Leviathan specifically asked for to perform on his birthday.

The first songs started off as innocent, not until the lights in the room turned red "Hmm?" Diavolo muttered as he noticed how the glass sorrounding the platform changed and got replaced by bars.

"How can I get them to perform for me, Lucifer?" Oh... So this idol is the currently the apple of everyone eyes?

"Slip some change and I can assure you this demon will be dancing on your lap by the end of the night." He even teased.

"And for the last performance..!" The deep voice of the host announced "The cell block Tango!" He added before red lights appeared and your silhouette is the only thing they can see.

"Is this an unreleased song..?" Levi asked himself as he eyed all of your curves before shifting uncomfortably on his seat.

You decided this, with the short span of time given to you to prepare you still managed to create a song that will be the dark horse of the night and that song is this.

Gladly, the performance ended nicely.

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LUCIFER

His face is not showing any signs of discontentment

Instead, it's showing interest

On you specifically

Who would have thought that Leviathan knew someone like you?

He can't help but smirk at the sight of your silhouette in the red light.

Who would have thought that a mere doll like you would catch his attention?

And maybe if you play nice, he might even give you what you want.

MAMMON

He swore to himself that you'll actually be the first demon to ever have him throwing money for you

The way you would look at him from down the stage and wink at him is enough signal

Maybe after the show he'll come and meet you backstage?

Ask for a small private performance if possible

LEVIATHAN

He knew that this was the right and wrong move at the same time

Introducing someone like you will surely peak their interest

But that interest will have you included in their business, in his business

So now, he just sit quietly in his seat as he heard the butler open the door and say "MC have come to you and asked for a private audience..."

He just smirked as he looked down at the people in the hall "Send them in." Is what he replied.

SATAN

The way you have kept eye contact with him as you did a part of the routine

The way he would follow your movements as he tilted his head signaled that you have had him interested in you

He may not have you now, but he'll make sure to have his hands in you

Maybe even more?

ASMODEUS

It sure is not his first time seeing you

Everything going on in the trending list is watched by Asmodeus

And you sure caught his eyes

A young demon being the first idol in Devildom?

What a surprise.

Maybe he'll invite you for a collab or an interview later on after this event

Then maybe you can visit his room once the job is finished?

BEELZEBUB

Who is this demon?

Your face is not that familiar...

So he looked around and saw everyone else captivated

Even Belphie

So when he looked back at you

He finally felt something strange

He should meet you back stage to ask you what you did to make him feel that way...

BELPHEGOR

He's chuckling

He's intrigued

All he can say is that you better make sure what you're getting yourself in

Because the moment he got his hands on you

Those chains and bars won't be props attached to you anymore.

#obey me #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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stirthewaters · 4 months

Text

Too Sharp to Touch pt.10

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: At a hangout with the gang at the lake, you receive an unexpected visitor after an extremely uncomfortable encounter.

Warnings: Language, brief descriptions of stripping? Creepy dude, mentions of alcohol, drugs, needles.

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, wishing everyone the best holidays, I'll see all of you next year! <3

Enid Sinclair was almost positive that she was losing her mind.

Watching you and Wednesday converse was just a slow torture at this point; could you two not see the obvious connection right in front of you? It made the blonde want to shake some sense into one of you.

After the carving event from last week, Enid had returned to the dorm early to see Wednesday seated with her cello on the balcony, fingers poised over the strings, a breath of anticipation in the air as if about to start… but she didn’t. It was as if the Addams were frozen in thought, caught in her own mind. When the werewolf had called out to her roommate, questioning if she was alright, she received some half-assed response about preparing her sheet music.

But she knew otherwise.

You, of course, were trying to be subtle and failing. Miserably. You usually weren’t such a bad actor when it came to these things. And Enid had seen you with crushes before; she knew the signs, and you definitely had your eyes on the Addams.

So screw the whole “partners investigation”, she would not be able to physically or mentally handle it if she watched her roommate go over her file of evidence with you in the dining hall one more time. If you moved your hand just a tiny bit to the left you could have touched Wednesday's hand. Or if you scooted just slightly to the side you could have touched your thighs. And Enid had a sneaking suspicion that her roommate would allow your touch, not to mention the fact that she’d literally seen her do so before.

It was after you had your fighting lesson with Wednesday that Enid approached her roommate, already very much prepared to play her well-practiced role of matchmaker. The Addams was storing her gear in her locker neatly, placing her helmet on the top shelf as Enid approached, her neat bangs slightly pressed against her forehead with sweat.

“Howdy Wednesday, how was fighting practice?” Enid hummed as she skipped over, grinning.

“Average,” came the unsatisfying response. Enid had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As the goth started down the hall she quickly followed suit; how could such a short girl move so fast?

“That’s it? Just average?” She pressed gently, following her movements. “Come on, you gotta give me the details.” The blonde was met with Wednesday’s dark eyes flitting over to meet hers, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she responded easily, “What more is there to say? It was merely lessons. Nothing more, nothing less. Just an associate returning a favor.”

Associate. Enid knew her roommate to know that that wasn’t the only word she’d use to describe you. Huffing, she swerved around a passing student as she spoke, being as subtle as possible. “Did you have fun?”

Wednesday paused, eyes widening slightly in disbelief as she glanced at the blonde, nose scrunching in slight disgust. “Enid, I assure you I do not “have fun”. I merely fulfilled a responsibility. What pleasure would one find in that?” She picked up the pace slightly.

“I dunno Willa, you just aren’t complaining as much as you usually do about…anything.” Enid grinned softly, daring to give the raven a soft nudge to the shoulder with her own. Wednesday tensed but didn’t push her away, merely turning the corner towards their shared dorm, and heading for the stairs. “If in the case I have found satisfaction in my lessons with Y/N it’d be simply for the reason that it’s refreshing to teach someone who possesses actual skill at the sport rather than dumb luck.” Wednesday paused slightly, eyes narrowing as she shot Enid a look. “And if you tell her that I ever said such a thing then the both of you will end up with a silver bullet in the leg.” Unfazed, Enid gave a slight shrug, nodding in agreement to her roommate’s statement. At least now she was getting somewhere. “Are you planning on working with Y/N today?”

“If we progress further in our case then I’d assume so, but nothing has been planned for today. It’s rather convenient, seeing as my writing hour is approaching.” As Enid made the climb after her up the narrow staircase, she had to think fast. She couldn’t give up now, not after getting this far. Looking around quickly she gave a soft curse, wishing silently that Thing could be here when she actually needed him. Pulling out her phone she shot you quick text before stuffing her phone back into her pocket, casually leaning against the doorframe of the dorm as Wednesday entered her closet to change.

“Well, I hope you enjoy yourself, I’ll be out of your hair soon anyways, I’m off with Y/N and the gang to go to the lake.” There was a silence that followed from the closet, the only sound present being the faint ruffling of clothing as Enid’s eyes wandered over the wooden doorframe, making sure not to accidentally peek. She had the Addams now, she knew it. It was a success to herself knowing that if she managed to get Wednesday to abandon her writing hour for you she’d be sure of her suspicions. After a moment the raven reappeared, dressed comfortably in her white and black striped shirt with her black fleece hoodie pulled over, adjusting her sleeves as she spoke, eyebrows furrowed just slightly.

“I wasn’t aware Y/N’s schedule had changed.”

“Yeah, it was like a recent thing, Bianca shot the group chat a text and apparently everyone was free so it was pretty lucky. Even Kent is coming.”

“And Marcelo?” “What does Marcelo have to do with anything?” Enid paused, interest piqued as she glanced at the raven, who was now seated at her desk, fingers poised at her typewriter as if ready to type, though she hadn’t moved yet, eyes focused on the keys as she muttered,

“No particular reason; morbid curiosity spurs me to refer to the fact that Marcelo has certain interests in Y/N.”

“Yeah, but -” Enid moved further into the room, raising an eyebrow. If anything, you hated Marcelo, and she knew it well. God, could she go on about the nights that you’d spent ranting about the dumbass. Yeah, Marcelo. “- he’s mostly just tagging along because Kent’s gonna be there. He’s kind of hard to exclude.” She paused, frowning softly before glancing at the Addams, who was now typing away, precisioned fingers flying across the keyboard. “Do you expect us to just kick him out?”

“Out of pure sadism, I might go so far as to say yes,” Wednesday muttered under her breath, easily detectable to Enid’s ears as her fingers pounded harder against the keyboard.

“Well, we’re not, unfortunately.” Enid paused, biting her lip slightly as her eyes darted around the room, mind racing to find a solution. Maybe this was going to be harder than she thought. Taking a quick inhale, she rapidly decided that she’d just have to hope for the best. “Well, I hope you enjoy your night, I’m gonna head out.” The blonde shouldered her bag that was already ready on her bed, walked out of the dorm, and closed the door behind her.

God, she hoped this would work.

The lake was calm. Silent. You liked it.

The group was typically rowdy, breaking through the calm quiet of the water, but you didn’t mind that either. The sky was already darkening, the sound of a few crickets filling the air as everyone set up. A calm breeze sent the trees gently ruffling, the waters of the lake rippling. It was almost hard to imagine the exact same body of water being filled with students and boats, bustling with energy.

“Finish daydreaming and help me blow up the float, furball.” You caught an elbow in the side from Bianca, and you let out a soft wince, rolling your eyes as you held out your hand for said float, sitting on the dock beside the siren to begin filling the large float, preparing the pump, and connecting the attachments. “We’re lucky if Kent doesn’t pop one like last time.” “For your information, it was a bet, which I totally won,” Kent spoke up from the hill, scowling slightly as he worked at unbuttoning his shirt, and throwing it at Bianca. “At least I follow through on bets, unlike someone-”

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes as you groaned, starting to pump air into the float. “You guys really expected me to actually hunt down a squirrel?” “You’re the one that suggested it in the first place,” Kent shrugged, at the exact same time that Yoko shouted from the pathway - “You’re a werewolf, dumbass! Wolves hunt things!”

“Well it wasn’t even relatively close to a full moon so it was automatically discredited,” you grumbled to yourself, huffing as you put more pressure on the pump handle. Yoko stepped to drop her bag on the dock, and the clinking of bottles immediately made you perk up, instantly recognizing the sound. “You brought booze?”

“Don’t tell me you expected less,” Yoko scoffed, a small grin playing on her face that perfectly showed off her fangs that glinted slightly in the evening light. “Isn’t that my role here?”

"Hell yes, Tanaka," Bianca grinned from her position, working at the other float as she spoke.

"The good stuff?" You perked slightly, curious, as you pulled at the bag, trying to get a peek before Enid slapped your hands away.

“You don't get any,” Enid huffed, folding her arms as she shot you a look, raising an eyebrow whilst dumping her towel onto the dock. “We’re not supposed to have it in the first place and I’m sure you all remember from the last time that she can’t handle it.”

"And yes, it's the good stuff," Yoko grinned slightly, emphasizing her words. "Don't expect anything less."

“Fuck you,” you stuck out your tongue at the blonde, who shot one right back. “You were tipsy as hell, don’t get me started.” Enid rolled her eyes, sitting on the wood as she huffed in response, “Still not as bad as you. You’re lucky Weems didn’t catch you or you’d’ve had even more community service.” After a moment she cocked her head, in an almost dog-like fashion. “Aren’t you gonna get changed though?”

“Miss I’m-In-Charge told me to blow up this shit,” you roll your eyes, ignoring the look Bianca shoots you. “If you don't mind taking over then I can get it done.”

Enid sighed and moved you out of the way, taking the pump in her own hands as she gestured you to go. “Just don’t get run over.”

You paused, scanning the undergrowth around the lake for a good spot, eyes narrowing as you silently thanked the stars that you had a decent vision in the dark. “give me like two minutes.” You scooped up your change of clothing, kicking off your shoes as you stepped onto the path, dodging a chunk of mud hurled from Ajax at Kent.

It took you a bit to get deep enough into the undergrowth that you were sure you were out of view, not that you thought anyone would go looking in the dark for you. Stepping behind a clump of bushes you pulled at your top, placing it on a branch to hang as you tugged at the straps of your tank top. It was almost eerily quiet now that you were far off from the group; the sounds of laughter and talking were audible, yes, but only faintly, one that could be easily tuned out if you didn’t focus on it.

A faint stick cracking brought you out of your thoughts as you paused, eyebrows furrowing as you straightened, eyes whipping around the foliage in search of the source. Nothing. Odd. You shrugged it off; it must be a rabbit or something like that.

“Y/N?” Jumping clear out of your skin, you let out a hiss of surprise as you raced to cover yourself, pulling a towel around your upper half as you turned on your heel, eyes wide and senses up, to see Marcelo standing a couple feet away, partially hidden by low hanging branches.

“Marcelo, what the actual fuck?” You hissed, heart pounding as you took a small step back, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable with just the towel between you and him. He was giving you that stupid grin, the one you wished to God you could smack off of his face.

“Wow, did not think I’d walk in on some Y/L/N ass tonight-” he took a step forwards, almost matching your step back as he spoke as his grin grew slightly. “You look good.”

“What the hell are you doing here? The group is all the way over there -” You pointed with your arm, a frown on your face as you spoke. “No offense but it’s making you look like a creep right now that you were hiding in the bushes of all places watching me strip.” “Oh come off it, don’t be sensitive,” the werewolf rolled his eyes with a scoff, gesturing to the towel over his shoulder as he took another step forward. “I just got here, I heard movement on the bank and thought it was the group.”

“In the bushes?” You frown scornfully, adjusting the towel tighter around your chest as you bump against the trunk behind you, eyebrows narrowing as you feel your heart pick up the pace. “Don’t be an idiot, just go.”

“What a warm welcome,” he muttered, eyes lingering slightly on your towel. “You don’t need to rush me away like that. Don’t tell me you don’t wanna see me?” “I never said that.” You pause, lying right through your teeth as you cast a glance through the undergrowth, almost praying that Enid, Yoko, or someone would show up. “If you’d ever heard of privacy maybe you’d understand.” “Come on, Y/N -” Marcelo took a step forward, warm hand landing on your wrist. You frowned, eyes narrowing as you tried to shake it off, your grip on the towel loosening as you did so. Quickly reacting, you tried to move away to fix it but instead, the werewolf reached for it, "I can help with that-” Just as you were about to smack the shit out of him, he froze in place, eyes glazing over slightly as he took a small step back.

“Marcelo, what the fuck-” you stepped forward, eyes widening as right before you he crumpled, body collapsing onto the dirt as he passed out cold. You quickly scrambled to throw on your top, before kneeling and checking his pulse. Alive, yes. Conscious, obviously not, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell was happening until you spotted Thing, beside his left ankle, which now had a needle jammed into it.

“Thing?” Your eyes widened in shock, taking a moment to process before you stuttered. “W-what the hell did you do? He’s not gonna die, is he?”

“Unfortunately not.” A voice to your left scared the shit out of you for the second time that night as you jumped, bumping into the branch beside you. “Shit! What the- the-”

Your words fell away as you narrowed your eyes, recognizing Wednesday’s dark form among the trees, arms folded over her chest with a barely concealed look of disgust at the unconscious Marcelo, eyes dark. It took you a couple seconds to catch your breath again as you immediately felt your heartbeat pick right back up again, at a loss for words.

“It was a simple dose of thiopental. He’ll most likely experience a few side effects once it wears off, but fortunately, you won’t have to suffer through that again.” The Addams stepped forward, nudging his ankle as she leaned down, removing the needle and placing it neatly in her bag. “It was pathetic to watch, being honest.”

“B-but why- how-” you fought to understand, placing a finger on your temple as you glanced at her, somehow surprised by her nonchalance. “You knew I was here?”

“I was sending Thing to drop off the towel Enid had left in the dorm when he informed me of your situation. I accompanied him back with the sedatives.” Wednesday’s dark eyes met yours evenly, tone now laced with faint disdain. “Believe me when I say I’d be more than glad to do it again. You weren’t the only one bothered by him.”

“Yeah, he’s an ass.” You mumbled breathlessly, eyes dropping to Marcelo once more as you softly inhaled, fighting down a shudder. As if sensing your discomfort, Wednesday took a step backward, glancing out over the lake as she muttered, “This will stay between us three, understood? If he asks questions, let me know.” You gave a little nod, recovering your breath as you found the words you needed, meeting her gaze once more as you felt your pulse quicken once more. “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it.” Wednesday turned her head slightly, breaking eye contact as she gazed across the lake through the branches. “I’ll have to remind you in the future to carry around the correct poisons.” She bent down, grabbing Marcelo’s wrists as Thing moved to support his waist, the two of them positioned to haul him away.

“Do you need help?” You took a step forward, already reaching for one of the werewolf’s ankles to be of assistance, but Wednesday shook her head, the faintest sadistic gleam in her eye that honestly, at this point you were used to. “That won’t be necessary. Me and Thing have performed this task several times before; I’m looking forward to this.” Nodding, you watched as the two of them easily slid the unconscious boy up the hill, quickly disappearing into the dark as you took a moment to process, slowly sliding down to a squat as the welcoming and comforting scent of dirt and undergrowth filled your senses, your adrenaline slowly dying as you let out a long sigh, processing as you grounded yourself, the only sound present in your senses now the faint chatter in the distance and the trees swaying gently.

“Y/N? Where the hell are you?” Broken out of your thoughts, you glanced out over the shore, spotting Enid, hand shielding her eyes as she approached. “Are you good? It’s been a lot longer than two minutes-” “I’m fine, E,” you stood, brushing off your arms as you threw your towel and clothes over your shoulder, stepping out of your hiding spot as you approached, moving her hand out of her face. “Took longer than I thought. I’m all good.”

Marcelo woke up that night tied to a chair.

Taglist:

@idkjustliving2 @alexkolax @tekanparadiae

#wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #jenna ortega #wednsday addams #tstt #werewolf reader #wednesday addams x werewolf reader #enid sinclair #yoko tanaka #bianca barclay #the addams family

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i984 · 1 year

Text

A Scarlet Touch | Part 2

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, brief tongue shoving, study dates, Wednesday holds grudges, poor attempt at displaying all 5 love languages, reader turns out to be a sucker for physical touch, but gets so embarrassed in front of other people, reader doesn't understand triangles, Wednesday never loses; she has a plan B: Enid.

|Summary|: Wednesday investigates what makes you tick just so she can give you a pay back.

|Word count|: almost 1k words

|A/n|: This is a part 2 to "Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade" (please go to my masterlist in the description), see replies for more. Enjoy!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

At last.

Wednesday had found your weakness.

Ever since you 'harassed' Wednesday with compliments the other day, the raven-haired girl has declared war between the two of you; and she's determined to come out as a winner.

Quality time. Acts of services. Gifts. Words of affirmation. Wednesday has tried it all—to the best she can—and none seem to have affected you at all.

Of course, at first, you were caught a little off guard.

When Wednesday finally brought up your request for her to tutor you for the upcoming math exam, you had been ecstatic—though admittedly a little suspicious. You had practically begged her to do so for ages, but after your most recent revelation the other day, she had said no to any offer to spend time together, just the two of you.

But now? She's the one who asks if you still want to do it, and when you have said yes, she wastes no time, practically dragging you to your dorm room.

You half-expected Wednesday to pull you in for a make-out session as soon as she slammed the door after you. But nope. She went straight to the balcony to grab the extra chair you put out there and took a seat next to your desk.

Huh. Guess you really are studying.

"-so the angle of the special right side of the triangle is 183?"

Wednesday scoffed irritatedly. "No. Absolutely not. The total angle of a triangle is 180. How would one single angle of a triangle exceed the total number? Do it again."

To your brain, what Wednesday has said only sounds like an incoherent string of jumbled sentences. You groaned out loud and banged your head against the desk.

"I don't want to do this anymore," you dragged out the last word, "lets just do something else that's more fun and less..." Your brows furrowed as you tried to find the right word, "...numbery."

"Numbers are fun. Formulas and logic ties in together pleasantly and produce a definite answer. A right answer."

Unlike you. There's no 'right' answer for you.

You huffed in frustration. "Of course, you'd think that, Wens."

The damned nickname.

"You're smart and beautiful, and you use words that I don't understand—like just now—so of course you'll always come up with a right answer." You toy with the pages of the trigonometry workbook Wednesday had 'gifted' you earlier, missing the dark crimson color painting your girlfriend's cheeks.

"I can never do that," you sigh as your head looks up at the ceiling, "I can't find the right answer."

Wednesday can find answers in even literature and paintings—the fruits of human thoughts that are up for various different interpretations with no set answers. But even works like Mona Lisa can't dream of rivaling the challenge you presented her.

A challenge to break you.

Wednesday tapped at your desk, demanding your attention. You disobeyed, eyes too busy trailing the movements of the spider hanging from your dorm room ceiling.

You're driving her crazy.

"...look at me," Wednesday calls out your name with an icy tone, and you snap your gaze at her, body tense. "Now, listen. You're hopeless-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No need to rub it in, geez."

"You're hopeless," Wednesday repeats her words, but this time her gaze stays on yours, unrelenting. You shut up.

"and I don't think I can help. Nobody can." Her voice carries an unnerving certainty as she continues, "Except yourself."

"Wait, did you try to encourage me just now?" Your voice is dripping with mischief, eyebrows raised teasingly.

If not for the internal war she desperately needs to win against you, Wednesday would've stuck the pen she's holding and jammed it in your eyes.

Priorities, Wednesday reminded herself. Maddening priorities.

"Think of it however you want," Wednesday unwillingly chokes out, "but I will not let you come out of this room. Not until we're done."

"That's cute, love. It really is." You scribble on the paper absentmindedly, "but even with your sweet, sweet words of encouragement, I doubt I can claw myself out of the hole I've dug myself into, unless..."

Wednesday sees your gaze slowly moving to hold her own; there's a glint of perversity in your eyes, and she knows you're about to say something that would make her wretched black heart pumps uncontrollably and burst.

"...you kiss me with those tempting burgundy lips of yours."

No, no, no. Not this again.

"And not just a quick peck, I mean a kiss. A full-blown make-out session where our breaths would mingle, and I could feel your nose bumping against my cheek. That kind of kiss."

You chuckled lightly, brows raising in challenge. And that's all Wednesday needs before she makes up her mind.

It has finally come to this. The dreaded physical touch. The one Wednesday had oh-so-desperately tried to avoid, hoping that it wouldn't be the one to work on you.

But here she is, about to make the devil's pack with her disgustingly cunning lover.

Wednesday's about to lose, unless—

—a knock. Followed by a "Wednesday! I've got your note from Thing. Can I come in?" from outside the door.

Your smug face drops and the colors drain, contrasting Wednesday's eery victorious leer, and she grabs your arm and pulls you flush into her embrace.

"You know what? Your wish is granted, mio caro." The term of endearment sounds vicious in her low voice, and you shudder; eyes tearing apart from Wednesday's sharp gaze.

"Yes, come in, Enid." Wednesday shouts loud enough for her roommate to hear before gripping your jaw—your scarlet face now so close to Wednesday's you can feel her warm breath tickles your face as she whispers;

"I win."

Wednesday shoves her tongue in, and the door blasts open.

Shit.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday series #fluff #fanfic #my story

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theoneeyedprince · 1 month

Text

Of Blood and Fire: XI

Previous Chapter ♛ Next Chapter ♛ Series Masterlist ♛ Main Masterlist

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!OC

General warnings: Explicit/18+, targcest, darkish!Aemond, explicit language, sensual themes, suggestive and sexual content, miscommunication, denial of feelings, slow burn, possessive and obsessive behaviour, angst, smut, mentions of (childhood and sexual) trauma, religious guilt, complicated and toxic family dynamics, typical mediaeval and asoiaf sexism and misogyny, graphic depictions of violence, spoilers for Fire & Blood and future seasons of HOTD.

Word count: 7.8k

Black and red the banners hung and rustled in the wind. Black and red were the archery targets, the tents, the ribbons and handkerchiefs the spectators sported, the roof above the royal balcony under which her family sat.

In black and red Vaemma was clothed.

“I wore something similar to a tourney when in my youth. I remember it well,” her mother spoke to her but looked at the Queen.

Rhaenyra Targaryen sat with one hand on her growing belly and the other stretched out, held by Daemon. A memory clouded the light purple of her eyes.

Vaemma looked down and smoothed the velvet fabric of her gown.

The look she donned that day was nothing but a statement to the Targaryen symbols. Blood-red bodice, straight skirts of the same shade and long wide scale-like patterned sleeves.

A dragon, Vaemma thought. She resembled a dragon.

Rubies were her gemstones of choice. On her fingers and dropping from her ears. Like blood tears coming down on her chest. Deep cut out making space for a delicate golden chain weave falling to the middle of her sternum.

She looked more like Meleys than Seasmoke but the colours of her dragon were presented at the banquet hall. The tourney required fire, not water. Fire and blood.

And thus far it had been blood that day.

Shields cracking or splattering to pieces. Jousting lances being destroyed by the impact of a hit into the opponent. Knights spewing red droplets and teeth.

Blood covered the hoof-dented tourney grounds.

Vaemma looked ahead.

The two factions of House Targaryen sat facing each other from two opposite lounges. Much to Daemon’s content.

The daggers his eyes twisted into Otto Hightower could be so easily taken for an amusing sort of comedy if not for the fact the King was seated with his wife and the Hand right beside him.

It was to show the people of Westeros the present and the future of the crown, he said. Supposedly, Daemon scoffed at that, snarling at his long-time rival about the mockery he wanted to make of his wife by separating her from the King. On whose side she should’ve been seated at. But The Hand and The Queen didn’t take the insinuations to heart. They never did.

So the family was separated as it had been for as long as Vaemma could go back in memory.

Her grandfather slouched over his chair but looked much better since Vaemma saw him last.

Guilt festered in her heart, ugly and unpleasant.

She promised to read him again, to visit. He asked her, even if he confused her with someone else.

Is this who she became? Too absorbed in her own troubles to keep a promise? Led astray by her sensual cravings. And so hotfoot at that.

Vaemma chewed on her lip, clenching the necklace. Fingers shaking atop her chest.

Rhaena’s gasp shook her out of the relentless nagging of self-culpability, “Gods, did the lad get a splinter in his eye?”

Her step-sister was right. A young knight’s green shield did little to dull the impact of the incoming blow. The turtle of House Estermont fell under his horse’s legs, whilst its owner bent backwards, desperately clawing at his face.

“What a mistake,” judged Daemon. “The lad should’ve worn a better helmet. Now look at him, probably will be left with one eye,”

“It takes us back, does it not?” Jace answered, corner of his mouth twitching as if struggling not to give in to a mean-spirited smirk.

Vaemma’s hold on the ruby in her chain tightened.

His name didn’t have to be voiced out and yet it felt as if Jace screamed it at her.

Her uncle was a creature of duty but he was nowhere to be found.

Just like he didn’t appear for the rest of the welcoming banquet the day past. Leaving her to chat and dance with her chosen lords. Anticipating him to show up suddenly behind her as she sat by the table to drink from her goblet or rested against one of the hall’s cool pillars. All to pin her against the wall and coax pleasure out of her, as brutally as he’s done before.

She half expected him to greet her in her chambers when she retired for the night, mind dizzy from the wine and body unsatisfied from the peak that didn’t reach her. A disappointed sight leaving her when Alayne left her alone. And alone she remained for the rest of the night.

How her desires for him have grown. How unwelcome and sought out they were at the same time.

How disappointed her family would be if they ever found them out.

She should’ve been and she swore she was.

So why was there this violent force pushing her towards her uncle? Like a tide this feeling came, so suddenly, washing away the hatred written in the deep cut line on the sand under High Tide from nine years past.

She should've fought it.

And yet she heard herself speak. Despite her uncle’s rapid and ever-changing attitude he displayed towards her. Despite the loyalty to her mother and Daemon, to Jace and Luke, to Baela and Rhaena.

Loyal to her family she would always remain but all of their hands were covered in blood that night.

“There is no need for such sour comments, Jace,”

Jace’s eyes widened but Vaemma’s face remained a white blank page.

Gods. She hoped none of them would see through her.

“You have always been so reasonable and collected about the whole thing, mandia,” he said, tone hard and bubbling with surpassed heat, “Do not turn your back on us now,” (sister)

She felt her chest tighten before her heart started pounding in her chest, “Whatever do you mean by that?”

Jace didn’t answer, only looked at her with an unspoken fire in his eyes.

“Valonqar?” Vaemma pressed in mimic sternness to his but it was their mother who chimed in. (Younger brother)

“I beg of you, do not argue. Not now and not here,”

“I have no wish to do so, muña. Though, I wish Jace would tell me what his insinuation meant,” (mother)

Rhaenyra extended her hand and gripped Vaemma’s. Her eyes moved from Jace to her mother at once.

Unmistakably, she was concerned about something and it unsettled Vaemma greatly.

More so when all that uncertainty in her mother’s gaze fit the one in her voice when she cut their argument down, “We shall talk in private. After the festivities,”

“Is something the matter?”

At that question, Daemon hummed, looking at her too but her mother was firm in her decision.

“After,” she repeated and squeezed her hand.

Reluctantly, Jace faced the tourney grounds again and Vaemma wished she was seated next to Baela. Placed between the heirs to the throne made her feel uncomfortably small and out of control. Constantly watched over. Something she never minded but which now clawed at her from within.

Following her brother, she faced the tourney grounds but before she did, her eye caught Jace’s hands forming into fists on his thighs.

Jace held on to his grudges and would turn unpleasant because of them. The closest to them would attribute his fiery temperament to his dragon blood. Those who didn’t hold them in high regard would say it was strong.

She knew who’d be one of the first people to say that.

And as if she summoned him with her thoughts, Aemond appeared to her at last, already watching her when their eyes met and even from the distance separating them she felt him.

The gentle wind that came upon them all felt like the brush of his hot breath against her skin.

He sat tall, back straight and his face unreadable, half hidden in a shadow of his eyepatch. Silver hair falling down his shoulders and on his chest. White silk on black leather.

Even now, she could still feel the way the wet strands tangled in her fingers and how it tickled her face ever so softly. Contrasting the feral hunger with which he came onto her.

Vaemma bit the inside of her cheek. Hard enough to elicit pain.

He mocked her. Surely, he did. Did it all to dishonour her. For why would he desire a woman he deemed unworthy of the Targaryen name.

Vaemma hoped her ire burned him. Just as her self-contempt burned her.

While the fighting raged around them, they engaged in one of their own. Stored in the hunger and heat in their eyes, in a hidden passage or a dark corridor to welcome them in.

Theirs was a clandestine form of combat. Execrable and vehement.

And he was always so unyielding. His incessantless torment bringing out the worst in her.

The need to be devoured and to devour.

Baela rescued her from her uncle’s scorching gaze just in time as Aegon dangled his goblet of wine in front of Aemond’s face, doing utmost to gain his brother’s attention.

“Where is ser Erland?”

Vaemma blinked away the black and white from under her eyelids.

Jace shifted between them. Was he still vexed with her or was he simply uncomfortable seated between two women, Vaemma couldn’t tell.

“Waiting for his turn, I assume,”

Her sworn shield was all too keen for the prospect to prove himself on the jousting field. And Vaemma wouldn’t refuse him such desire.

Not when he didn’t mind indulging her on her own when she was in doubt of herself.

Another pinch of guilt pained her heart.

“They better hurry him up there,” Baela’s eyes shone with excitement, “We’ve had no opportunity to see your lovely knight fight in this way,”

“It’s hardly a fight,” Jace muttered.

“Then why aren’t you there to compete?” Vaemma bit.

“Mother wouldn’t let me,”

“Poor you,” Baela cooed, smiling playfully.

“Stop nagging on me,”

“Do not be so wretched then,” Baela took his hand into his and Jace’s cheeks reddened.

Vaemma smiled at the sight but something bitter spilled inside her and that invisible string pulled at her to turn around. To look at him.

“Here he comes. Your knight,”

Baela’s comment, not so subtle but kind in nature, was almost a whisper in comparison to the booming one presenting the competitor to the crowd.

“Ser Erland Flowers of Princess Rhaenyra’s household and the sworn shield of Princess Vaemma Velaryon,”

A blush bloomed all across Vaemma’s face. For herself and for Erland.

A secret, one he wasn’t ashamed of but which he didn’t wish to determine him as a person, was openly revealed. Ringing loudly in everyone’s ears.

They all knew he was a bastard now.

Aemond knew.

It was the knight’s moment. One he awaited so eagerly. She wouldn’t let herself focus on her uncle when her dear companion was right there.

Not when he looked up at her. Hesitantly at first and then with conviction she only heard him speak when they were alone. When he asked her to call him by his name.

“I would humbly ask for the Princess’ favour, if she is kind enough to grand it,”

Vaemma stood up, terribly aware of a sea of eyes following her every move, and tied the blue-red ribbon around the tip of his lance.

She’d give him her book-mark, a belonging much more personal to her than that cotton piece of material, but to her sadness it got lost in the Keep. Eaten by rats or taken by a servant who was in need of money and sold it in Flee Bottom for a coin. The fate of it unknown.

Her favour dropped down Erland’s weapon and landed safely at the wide handle.

Taking his place by the one end of the tourney ground, with the red lance in his hand and armour bathed in silver, shining in the midday sun, he looked triumphant already.

But as hard as she tried to stay in the good spirit, the word bastard dug its teeth into her brain each time the sound of lance against shield echoed through the audience stands.

And she felt every blow. As she had since the day she was born.

Erland’s match didn’t last long. None that he participated in did. With the fall of the banner of the three crowns and pink stripes of House Hollard came more and the insult her and Erland were marked with meant little while the crowds cheered for the knight from the Reach.

“He might win,” Jace observed and Vaemma held her breath, hoping for nothing more.

And that hope prevailed.

Surrounded by whistling and clapping, ser Erland was given the champion’s laurel and with it he moved down to their balcony. His eyes were set on Vaemma and for a breath’s moment she thought he’d present it to her but he smiled gently, as if in apology, and bowed his head to her mother as the custom instructed.

When ser Erland came from his chestnut horse and took his helmet off, his neck and curls dumped in sweat, he was proclaimed the champion of jousting for the final time and her mother stood up to show her thanks and congratulations, and with her the rest of their party followed. The King too.

But Aemond’s seat was empty.

There was a moment in his journey back from the Tower of the Hand in which he almost paid that visit. Yet it flew in and out of his head quickly enough for his body not to betray him.

What his mother and grandfather told him had to be handled with care. He promised them that and he was nothing if not reliable. Nothing like Aegon. Nothing if not ambitious in fulfilling his own desires.

Desires of old and new.

For the ancestral seat of Conquest and her.

Her.

His hand disappeared under his nightshirt for one purpose only and when it tightened around his length he wondered if she was waiting for him. Did she lay on her bed just like him but with her fingers circling that small, little nub of pleasure he had a chance to use to subdue her to him. Was she thinking of him and the way he almost had her in that corridor?

Gods, he hoped she was.

The morning of the tourney welcomed him with sunlight scratching at his eye, Aegon at his ear and mother at his mind. No one and nothing however compared to the carving out his niece did to his insides when he saw her after the night of torment.

He could’ve taken her but instead he imagined his hand was hers. The same smaller hold he remembered from Vhagar’s cave. Even through the fabric of his undergarment it scorched him.

But he grabbed onto the leash as he used to do so firmly before her arrival at King’s Landing. For if everything went according to plan, he shall take her to wife and in such case reputation was all that mattered.

No bastards would be born of his blood. No wife of his would have a tarnished reputation.

He looked at his grandfather.

The Hand sat loyally next to his king and the uneasiness and sick satisfaction fought a battle within him.

His father slumped weakly over his chair but his gaze pinned firmly onto the party sitting before them. Longing for the only child he ever loved.

Aemond longed as well. For knowledge, for skill, for power. And all of those accumulated in his niece.

The seadragon.

Her whole being breathed out fire from across the jousting grounds and Aemond felt the heat of it blowing at his skin. Or it was just something his treacherous mind conjured to bring him out of balance.

Each of their encounters left him wondering if it wasn’t just that. If he mayhaps fell from Vhagar to his death and that was what the Seven Hells felt like.

A neverending agonising desire for his bastard niece tormenting him. Over and over again.

But he did feel it closer than that imagined blow of the wind. It had to be real.

The scratches of her nails on his arms when she tried to pry him away, the supple flesh of her thighs under the palms of his hands, the bitter-sweet taste of her lips and tongue on his, the warm inside of her cunt pushing against his fingers.

He inhaled sharply, fingers of his sword hand flexing as the all too familiar tightening began to form within him.

Seven help him.

It was never meant to end this way. He was supposed to be her tormentor, not she his.

“Remember when Daemon cut Vaemond Velaryon’s head in two?”

Aegon was in his cups again. The goblet hang from between the elder’s fingers, grasped by the rim, swaying lazily from left to right, right to left.

Aemond hummed, eye trained on Erland Flowers as he crowned his lady’s mother with the title of Queen of Love and Beauty.

Like calls to like, were the words he wanted to taunt her with, seeth into her ear as he ploughed into her. Just to see her maddened with anger beneath him.

“Do you think he would cut down our niece’s dog-,” he stopped and laughed under his breath before correcting himself, “flower if he chose her over his wife? What an insult it would be. To give this silly wreath to someone else while the future Queen sits right there?”

For all his trying, Aegon’s jealousy and contempt reserved for their half-sister was evident. Was it what he tried to wash away with every greedy gulp of wine? That he craved what Rhaenyra was given? What was lawfully his?

She deserved it. The resentment.

But if they gave her only daughter to him, he’d crown Vaemma with no fear. Not with fragile flower petals but Valyrian steel and silver. So it’d match her hair. Match him.

He’d make sure to be the king his brother could never be. Would never be, as long as the succession remained undisputed and undisputed it shall remain. Aemond waited too long for a chance to get it all.

He was on his feet the moment his father raised from his seat. Not patient or interested enough to see if the neglect he received throughout his life wasn’t granted for his eldest child or the commonborn bastard knight.

Or if his niece fawned over the man as he knew her to do. So unabashedly and openly as if he was her lord husband.

But it was he who would have Vaemma Velaryon as his wife and in return she would make him king.

And gods strike those who would prevent that from happening.

“Erland was such an intelligent young boy. And so helpful. A squire to my late husband like no other,”

The Lady of Highgarden’s compliments turned the champion abashed and Vaemma was all ears, taking in every childhood story from Erland’s life in the Reach as long as she was allowed.

Clothed in simple breeches and tunic but with a sword hanging from his hip, her sworn shield joined her in the royal tent, asking if she was willing to go on a stroll in the woods. But they were stopped not a halfway to their destination when the red-haired woman introduced herself with a low curtsy, her babe’s nursemaid following her every step.

“It must’ve been a real tragedy to lose him,” Vaemma humoured.

Erland gave her a pleading look but she couldn’t help herself. She would grasp at any moment of simple joy as they were so scarce in her life as of late.

“It truly was. But when a boy grows into a man and the world calls out to him, then there is no other option but to let him go and see it for himself,” she smiled warmly.

“Your ladyship is too kind,” the knight answered, clasping his hands behind his back.

Until her involvement with Aemond, Vaemma wouldn’t think much of it. But in that simple movement, she saw him and wondered where her uncle was right now.

Maybe left the grand festivities and flew away on Vhagar. Arose her from her slumber in her cave beforehand.

The cave where they gave themselves to each other for the first time. As much as it should’ve been the last.

Still smiling, Lady Tyrell waved her hand dismissively and turned around after her nursemaid just to be forced to bow.

“Would it be bad timing if I stole my daughter away for a moment?”

Her mother was a vision of regal and Valyrian beauty. The wreath of summer flowers a crown atop her hair making her look younger than her true years.

“Not at all, Your Grace. I’m most content to talk to Erland here and the Princess is most welcome to join our conversation again,”

“Only if ser Erland would want me to know so much about him,” Vaemma replied, quickly looking at the man in question.

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” was his reply. Green eyes open and honest.

Did someone curse her heart? For why wouldn’t it call to him? No future would await them, both of them knew that well, but everything would be easier.

Her mother was silent as they walked further and further away from the crowds until they reached a carriage. The same in which they arrived in the capitol a moon ago.

Daemon stood vigil, brows knitted and lips pursed. Deep in thought.

“I thought we ought to need some privacy,” was all the explanation Vaemma was given but she followed her mother inside without question.

They faced each other in silence. The sound of the grand gathering was a cheerful mix of voices and Vaemma realised that The Heir’s Tourney was a success, as much as the Small Council was opposed to it at the beginning.

But they were always opposed to Rhaenyra Targaryen, she supposed.

“I want to thank you first,”

Her mother’s voice was strangely benign when it cut through the air. The opposite of what Vaemma and her siblings were used to. Their mother was loving but not docile.

“Whatever for?”

“Being the most wonderful daughter and sister. The most understanding,”

Was she talking about the succession they were currently celebrating?

“It’s my duty. You know yours, Jace his and I mine. I’ve known it for so long, you don’t have to be grateful for me fulfilling it,”

“But I do. You are my only daughter and I remember how terrifying and, to be frank, unbearable searching for a consort was,”

“Luckily, I’m not looking for a consort, so I’d love for the burden of worrying about this task to be lifted from your shoulders at once,” she tried to make the tone of her words sound light to comfort her mother but they were heavy on her tongue.

Vaemma didn’t feel lucky in the slightest.

Rhaenyra reached out for her hand and she let her hold her in this way. Just like when she was but a little girl.

“That’s why what I’m about to ask of you will make this impossible. For me and for you,”

Her mother held onto her tightly as if to make sure Vaemma wouldn’t push her away. It caused her nerves to quicken the beating of her heart.

“Muña?” (Mother)

“The Queen approached me before last night’s banquet with a proposition which only half surprised me. But I must admit to be tempted to take. Regarding you,”

When Vaemma made no attempt to cut in, her mother let her words flow out of her freely like a strong current and each of them knocked her off her feet.

“You as a possible heir. As the eldest child of the heir. Just like I am. And by means of mending what was broken almost ten years past a proposition of betrothal was made. For you and my half-brother. Between you and Aemond,”

One time when she was still learning to fly on Seasmoke, she climbed onto his back and crawled onto his neck, hugging him so tightly that he must’ve found it uncomfortable or irritating, so he moved it from side to side and eventually got rid of her. No harm came to her but she landed in the shallow bottom of the sea. Her ears and nose filled with water and a momentary panic overcame her until she felt her dragon helping her get out of the water.

What her mother relayed onto her made her feel like this. In a momentary state of confusion and panic.

Her, the heir? After stepping aside for Jace and being content with being just the daughter. Just a dragon rider.

And all that’s happened between her and Aemond. All the hiding, all the fighting, all the guilt and self-hatred and it led to this?

To the possibility of marrying each other.

“Will you do it, tala? For the family? For me?” (Daughter)

She felt everything and nothing, a relief she wished for and another weight of responsibility. But how could she explain that to her if no one knew of the illicit nature of their trysts?

Her mother squeezed her fingers and Vaemma, realising she was looking at their joined hands, looked up to reciprocate her gaze.

“Can you promise me to think it through?”

Vaemma nodded, “I will”.

Because a united family was all she ever wanted to have.

For a woman who occupied his mind every moment of every day, she was hard to find. The crowd of people seemed to swallow her before he had the chance to take a closer look at her.

And how badly he wanted to. To reach out for her and feel her quickened heartbeat under the skin of her wrist.

The blood there always flew fast when his touch was rough and he basked in the knowledge he was the reason for it.

But like an ebb and flow his niece came and retreated from him.

Mayhaps she truly was more like the sea than he was led to believe. Than what he refused to see each time they collided.

In their many a rencontre he’s been filled with the certainty that he was the only one she let to see the fire of their shared blood burn through her.

Thus none of the lords she met the night before and none of the bastard knights she created a companionship with could bring her closer to the Valyrian inviolability.

There were no other people like them in Westeros. Or in the known world.

Almost god-like in their nature.

And she was. In his dreams, his own priestess of ancient Old Valyria and when awoken, his own Elenei of air and sea.

For a blink’s moment, he thought he saw her but it was Rhaenys Targaryen embracing one of her granddaughters, so he continued on, passing by the countless groups of noblemen and women and servants.

Aegon caught him from across the field, stopping his conversation with a maid that poured him yet another dosage of wine, revealing another person from behind him.

Deryl bowed his head to pay his respects and then the girl turned around to do the same and when she did Aemond’s steps became swiffer.

For whatever reason she was serving his brother? He hoped Deryl kept an eye on his sister, not allowing for their arrangement of the past to spill into Aegon’s ear.

People moved out of his way as if dislodged by the mere presence of his person. A common occurrence in the Keep and one that brought him much satisfaction.

Not many things did.

Just like the conversation that took place not far away from the first set of trees that led to the Kingswood.

Aemond cursed under his breath. The feeling of betrayal yanked at his insides and it was unbearable because it was too familiar.

Vaemma was once again smiling at him. At the green-eyed knight, her protector and friend. And that one malignant thought ate at him, that she did more than just laugh with him. That she was like Rhaenyra when her and Erland Flowers were alone. It hid another other one, buried deep inside. The ugly insecurity his patch and years of rigorous training, hours of mastering the art of dragonriding and accumulating of political and philosophical knowledge were meant to cover.

The doubt of his worth as a man and a Targaryen prince.

For what he lacked that this common man had to make her seem so at ease, so eager to chat on so effortlessly? Why did he deserve to hear her laugh and watch her smile?

She never did with him.

He puffed out the air from his lungs. Something Vhagar did when irritated or agitated.

It didn’t suit him. Such affection or longing for it. Especially for someone like her. The sister of the boy who crippled him for life.

A gentle touch to his shoulder forced him to look away from his niece and it caused him a much needed alleviation.

“I knew you’d follow her,”

Most of the time, Helaena’s voice was a soothing tea for his uneven temper. But it gnashed with her statement. Convincingly pointing at his predictability.

In the case of his Velaryon niece, he hated to be predictable. Because it wasn’t like his dutifulness, loyalty or idealism.

It meant he was trodding away from that path. He felt that way even when he was told to keep on coming back to her to stay on it.

Her presence, a torment and a rapture in one, was like a poison dripping through his veins. A potion clouding his mind, putting him on paths which led to her, without having him thinking about where his legs took him to, for they seemed to know exactly where. Better than his own mind did.

Pathetically predictable and enough to notice by those who cared to pay close attention.

And yet he tried to deny it still, “Who do you have in min-”

“With the drop into the water, it's not meant to be. The green of the flame and the blue of the sea,”

Helaena’s gaze was piercing and somehow all-knowing and her words dripped of sorrow so deep it almost distracted him from the message itself.

Aemond couldn’t bear the uneasy weight of the sadness in her eyes and looked down at his niece but Jaehaera’s face mirrored her mother’s.

From the distance separating them, the crowd of the tourney spectators seemed like a welcome distraction from the woman and girl standing next to him. However small that distance was.

He would’ve laughed at the irony, knowing how elusive and secluded he was in disposition, but that was also something he rarely did.

“You’ve said that before,” he pointed, brows scrunching in a reminiscing thought.

Helaena moved her hand from his shoulder to his biceps and squeezed almost painfully. It was so not like her to be violent that Aemond had no choice but to meet the gloom in her pale lilac eyes.

“I am forced to do so as no one listens. And you must,”

He knew the shadow that covered his sister’s face when she was taken by her erratic changes of mood. It upset him greatly and now that she held her little daughter by her side when it overtook her, it concerned him even more.

He opted to ease her nerves, “I am, mandia. I always am,” (older sister)

But it did nothing. Only twisted her soft features more.

“No, you are not. None of you do,”

The accusation stung Aemond's heart but seeing the state Helaena was in, he only took the hand that gripped so tightly around the leather of his sleeve in both of his hands.

“I will from now on then. I will,”

His promise appeared to work after a moment. His sister exhaled slowly and with eyes casted down to the grass, nodded to herself.

Aemond observed her cautiously until he felt a tug at his trousers. The wide eyes of his silver-haired niece stared at him as if trying their hardest to wordlessly tell him something but as much as he wanted to understand the little one through her crippling shyness, he failed.

Not wanting to disappoint the two of them, he raised the corner of his mouth slightly and kept on holding Helaena’s hand. An attempt at reassurance if nothing more but his sister gave up on it sooner than he expected her to.

“I’m sorry,” quickly she murmured, taking Jaehaera in her embrace, “She’s no longer there,”

The branches of the trees and the grass where Vaemma stood swayed with the wind and all Aemond wanted to do was look for her again but Helaena’s hand on his scarred cheek stopped him.

“Even if the blood binds them within. It is not meant to be,”

Their voices merged into one as Aemond echoed the three last words after her, letting her know he listened.

Only then his older sister let go of his face and began walking towards the patch of wildflowers growing next to the forest.

With a watchful eye over the vacant spot she just occupied, Aemond stayed unmoving for a moment longer before joining them.

Not the first time since her arrival to the castle, Vaemma Velaryon slipped through his fingers and with the need for an instant reunion, the riddles of Helaena’s hid in a remote corner of his brain.

But even as he promised himself to come back to them, the only thing he could think of was the in-wall and underground passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast.

The remaining hours of the tourney came by her quickly in flashes of faces and echos of music. Galloped would be a more fitting word to describe the pace with which the day turned into evening.

She barely remembered what anyone said to her.

All she was aware of was the feeling of her mother's and Daemon's eyes following her every step as she moved from one person to another, smiling politely, with a distant look in her eyes many probably attributed to the wine she drank.

Even in the privacy of her chambers, she didn't feel at peace. With the voices in her head screaming at each other. Each of them having their own argument for and against the maddening idea her mother and Queen Alicent came up with.

Her hands worked fast to untangle the last hanging braid. Dark brows scrunched together, chest heaving, unable to calm down from the events of the long day. Then both her heart and hands stopped when she looked into the vanity mirror.

The wall behind her opened slowly and the darkness swallowed the book shelves.

Vaemma looked at the set of cushions set against the headboard of her bed, her dagger nestling under one of them and she was on her feet at once.

She braced herself and asked, suppressing the bile of fear coming up her throat, “Who goes there?”

The hilt of the dagger moulded into the palm of her hand and she was almost ready to scream for ser Erland when the darkness spoke to her.

“Tis only me, jorrāelagon mandianna,” (dear niece)

Aemond’s voice was low and it froze the blood in her veins. Coming out of the shadows it sounded sinister, like a ghost haunting her.

Which he was. She knew it to be true.

All too well.

“You’ve no right to burge in here,”

He stepped onto the rug. Tall frame walking slowly in her direction. Poised and calm. A striking contrast to the way her fingers trembled around her weapon.

His boots made no sound on the stone and the coldness of it sunk into her bare feet. He always had an advantage. Even in such small details as those.

As she stood there, frozen in place, the wall thumbed behind Aemond, and it looked as if there was no secret passage hiding behind it.

It terrified her. The knowledge anyone could find it.

The knowledge her uncle did?

It terrified her that it thrilled her.

Did he come to tell her she was to be his wife? Did he even know of it?

His eye caught the sight of the steel in her hand and the corner of his mouth raised up, giving into a taunting smile. She sensed some kind of provocation in it.

Did he enjoy it? Seeing her lose her composure?

Did he also find it too easy to lose himself when they were close to one another?

“Come now,” he held out one hand, reaching out for her dagger, “You know where to press it. But you would not harm me. Would you, ñuha amīvindiga?” (my tormentress)

His tormentress.

His?

If not for the man guarding the doors to her chambers, she would've screamed at him.

“How dare you,” she breathed out her ire.

Her pride was stumped upon time and time again by the man standing before her. And each time she had to crane her neck so she could look into his lone eye.

Did he see how she loathed him? How she loathed herself for wanting him so?

How dared he call her his at a time like this. When she struggled not to give into the fiery temptation. The one that would allow him to do anything to her. Anything that would destroy her. But suddenly turning to something that wouldn't stand between of what their mothers wanted them to achieve. It would make the matter plain and simple.

How dared he catch her unawares in her chambers when she needed to be left alone. Needed to think without any distractions.

He was unmoved by her anger or so it seemed that he was. She believed herself to get to see through the cracks when they were alone. Sometimes she thought she could read the emotions in the soft purple of his iris or in the twisting of his curved lips.

His lips.

Her gaze dropped to them without her accord. A lapse caught by her all too late but by Aemond all too soon.

Aemond was quick to take her face into his hands the moment she let the mask of despise fall.

“Do not touch me,” she pleaded but he held on.

Heart pounding and head spinning, she closed her eyes, not bearing to look at him.

Not when his hands were so soft and gentle. Like a linen wimple wrapped around the sides of her face. The calluses on his palms and fingers not as harsh to the touch as she would’ve expected.

She wanted to sob.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Tone hard and with sharp edges.

She felt his breath on her nose and mouth when he spoke up again, “Stubborn girl,”

When she opened her mouth to reply, irritation and despair burning her skin, their lips brushed and a shiver went through her.

“I dare because you’re all mine,”

As he groaned into her lips, only then his grip on her face tightened and Vaemma budged at it. His mouth grazed against her as he did so and she almost didn’t notice gripping his forearms.

His.

Did he know? Has he known all this time? Since she came back to this awful place?

She was hanging from him like vine did the castle walls. Holding onto him like she would the fragile leaves, desperate not to fall down, yet knowing she eventually would.

But she dug her fingers into the leather, into the skin hiding under it and Aemond answered with his own, tangling them into her hair, pulling her harshly into his face.

The kiss was feverish and rough. The tender flesh of her lips stung in the spots where he bit into her.

Vaemma responded in kind. Squeezing her eyes awfully hard, her hands clawing at Aemond’s, trying to pry his away from her cheeks.

Or did she.

Her mind yelled at her as it oft did when such moments occurred between them but her body had a mind of its own. It told her to hold onto him, to spurn him on, to let him consume her wholly.

She both wanted and dreaded it.

Her back hit the tall foot post of her bed, the dagger long gone from her hand, laying on the carpet under it.

She was left vulnerable and pliant in Aemond’s embrace. And if the hum he let out indicated correctly, he did not oppose that.

“Did you wait for me?”

She looked at him confused.

His thumb drew a line along her bottom lip, “When I told you I would take you that night,”

Her cheeks grew hotter.

“Do not jest with me,”

He pressed her into his chest when she tried to get out of his grasp. His distinctive smell hit her senses and it made her dizzy.

“I keep my promises. You of all people should know that but-”

And what about her promise to her mother?

Was he told to pursue her all along just for the purpose of being her consort one day? Was it all the she was to him? Means to an end?

“You’ve no need to explain yourself to me, kepus. And you should be on your way out,” (uncle)

With her words silence befell them.

Vaemma looked at the half-empty shelves behind him. Searching for spots on her walls which would keep her distracted. Everything would do so not to look into his eye.

Aemond didn’t find her ignoring him to his liking and moved his hand down her body until it rested on her thigh and a breath caught in her throat.

“Let me,” he asked, crumbling the material of her nightgown between his fingers, pulling it up together with her undergarments.

Goosebumps covered her skin and she hated how good the movements of his hand there felt.

“Let me finish what our servants denied us and I will let you be,”

“I’ve trouble believing you’d leave me with my virtue still intact, kepus. You promised me something else entirely,” (uncle)

“And are you this willing to give such a precious gift to me? Are you not content that I am not taking it? Not humiliating you?”

He knew that he already had. Made a fool of her.

And she let him do it again when her eyes closed as he hid his hand under the satin material of her nightgown and massaged his way up the inside of her thigh.

Her heart hasn’t stopped its harsh beating, only increased in the pain it caused her ribcage.

How was it possible for a single man to elicit such contradictory emotions in her?

Why had it to be him?

Her fingers curled around his palm and it stopped its journey further up. He squeezed the meat of thigh harder in response but Vaemma didn’t give him the satisfaction in making a noise of pleasure this violent grasp gave her.

Both only looked at each other. A silent battle of dominance in their eyes.

Eyes so different in colouring yet so similar in its origin. Her uncle would be cruel if she pointed out such a similarity between them.

Would he?

Aemond, as observant as he revealed himself to be during the dispute over the Driftmark succession, watched her expression attentively. The movements of his healthy eye indicated it so and Vaemma hoped not to become an open book to him. One of those he might’ve learned to know by heart.

A nightly prayer to the gods she recited in her head.

“Then why are you here? If not to take me?”

His bent neck straightened and his face went blank. The only mark of any emotion a gentle flare of his nostrils and a hollow line between his brows.

And the drop of her leg from his grasp.

The night air brushed over the mark of his long fingers on her skin and she shivered.

The sudden change in his demeanour shouldn’t have taken her by surprise. Not anymore. Yet it was so abrupt it did.

The heavy silence weighed on her chest, turning her breathing shallow once Aemond moved back a single step.

Away from her.

She felt her throat tightened but she forced out the question again, hoping he would be frank with her.

“Why are you here, kepus?” (uncle)

But for Vaemma, hope was a dangerous and fickle thing. She found that out as a young girl. Dragonless and fatherless. Marked by bastardy.

Yet it fluttered around her heart. It still did. When her uncle was near her, it beated against it.

What good it did her? That hope? She ought to stomp on it, not cling onto it. Send it to the flames, see it burn and let go of it once and for all.

And what if she was the only one of them that was told of their possible union? What if he all but spat under her feet if she asked him if his dutifulness compromised being wedded to a bastard?

He would, wouldn't he?

But she was ashamed to admit that she didn't truly know him at all. No amount of time of giving herself to him, in any way a woman could submit herself to a man, would let her see him. Truly see him.

“Leave me be,”

Angry and disappointed she did the only thing she had the strength for and turned her back to him.

Letting her guard down was a reckless choice on her part. She knew it to be. And she knew him to be hot-blooded and spiteful and ready to plunge a dagger in her back.

But he already cut her chest open. It bled and bleed it continued to do, painting her crimson red. Thus why would another stabbing wound change her?

For a moon she’s struggled to wash him off of her and was more than certain that she’d fail to put herself back together for a longer time than that.

“Do you truly wish me to leave?”

The wood of her bed post was colder and harder to the touch than his hands ever were. But she gripped it none the same, only if not to fall to her knees.

What a wretched mess of a creature she became. Crumbling under herself because of a man who detested her so.

Her future lord husband.

The gods had a cruel sense of humour and yet she wanted to laugh. Laugh for so long her voice turned hoarse.

He could never know. Never know how much his presence and words affected her.

“If there is nothing of importance you wish to say to me, then I do,”

Silence was his response. And only after three slow breaths she took, the sound of opening and closing of the secret passage travelled to her ears, allowing her to fall onto the carpet.

Vaemma hissed when her knee bumped into the hilt of her dagger. Carefully, she picked it up and gently pressed it onto her sternum. A shattered breath left her once the coolness of the steel laid above her heart.

But despite her efforts, not even the memory of her father’s words could help her put the fire out.

For she found herself in the middle of the raging storm, not able to escape it.

From the author: So... hi, I know it's been months but to be completely honest, I wasn't sure if I'd continue sharing this story. But I missed Vaemma and Aemond terribly, rememberd why I chose to rewrite Act I and I appreciate people who might still wait for me to finish it too much to leave them with the unknown. And as it turns out, today marks the one year anniversary of OBAF and I decided to do everything in my power to post the first chapter of Act II for this occasion. With that being said, get ready for more of court and westerosi politics, while these two obsess over each other. And for lots of angst. Obviously.

Thanks to anyone who stumbled upon this fic on AO3 back in 2023 or recently, who knows of it only through Tumblr but mostly to those who stuck by it and leave their mark, interested enough to share their thoughts and discuss it with me <3

(Hopefully) see you soon.

AO3 / SERIES MOODBOARD / SERIES PLAYLIST

Dividers by @dingusfreakhxrrington

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. It’s how you can openly show support to the author and their work!

The Taglist

@adragonprinceswhore ♛ @arcielee ♛ @cyeco13 ♛ @dc-marvel-girl96 ♛ @fyeahhotdocs ♛ @melsunshine ♛ @myfandomprompts ♛ @snh96 ♛ @tsujifreya ♛ @queenofshinigamis

Feel free to let me know if you’d like to be included in this specific series tag, Aemond tag or general tag ♡

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causenessus · 3 months

Text

Intimacy. | Nakahara Chuuya

nakahara chuuya x reader

she/her pronouns

song recc: lovers rock by tv girl

word count: 1323 words

atp it's canon for me that he gets lonely sometimes after everyone that's left </3 might turn this into a series?? idk?? (●´⌓`●) i sincerely hope i captured chuuya's character well <3

"intimacy is about safety. the peace you feel in someone's presence. the ease in their voice when you disagree. someone's attentiveness when you are struggling. their language when they speak about you, someone's curiosity to learn you and the surrender when it comes to you."

He didn’t know how he’d gotten here.

Perhaps it was intoxication. He hoped it was; he hoped that he could blame his decision to come here on not being in the right mind. The thought had tugged at him for days. He hated trying to explain himself to others, too many times they had never understood. Or, they had responded in a way that made him sure he would never open up to them again.

Yes, he was intoxicated. That must be it. It wasn’t her eyes. The eyes that drew him near. Recently, she'd looked at him with so much emotion he almost wanted to say something immediately. He caught himself before he cursed it out. That was why he was here now. He didn’t want to curse it out. She'd only been trying to help. Damn. He was so damn trusting. He might as well have been wearing his heart on his sleeve. If she didn’t open this damn door–

The door swung open, and his breath hitched at the sound.

‘Stupid. Do you want this or not?’

He was about to tear off his own head at this point. He couldn’t stop thinking. Stop stop stop–

She was calling his name. Taking a step forward.

He was tempted to give up and bolt down the hallway. Maybe take the elevator and dive off the roof. No, that was suicide. Suicide–

She stepped aside. “Come inside.”

She already knew. She already knew. Was that a good thing? Had he made it obvious? He nodded in appreciation, letting out a loud exhale in an attempt to shut up his own head as he slipped off his shoes. She fumbled with the hem of her shirt as she waited.

She led him down a hallway to the right into an open room, with a wide window that took up the entire wall. Her apartment was high enough that all he could see was the nighttime sky from the window but a balcony outside would have let him see the bustling streets of Yokohama.

Plants and flowers were both on the balcony and just inside, right against the window. A small kitchen was to his left, where she had just taken out a kettle. “Do you want anything? Tea?” she offered.

“Yeah. Please,” he replied quietly, taking a seat on a couch.

She brought two cups over, placing them down quickly before taking her own and sitting next to him, pulling her legs up close to her chest.

“Is it about–”

He tsked instinctively at the mention of him. He wasn’t used to talking about his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to feel, and he felt stupid that he was so confused about it.

He clenched his fists tightly before trying to calm himself down. He turned to copy her, leaning against the arm of the couch and bringing his arms to wrap around his legs.

“It’s just…” he needed to say it. Get it out. He’d give one more person a try. If she didn’t respond well, he’d get up and leave, it was as simple as that.

“It’s too quiet. I know,” she looked down at the steaming cup in her hand.

That was it. She was the only one who had said it. Who had appeared to notice it. Everything was too quiet. No one around them talked more than they had to. Perhaps that was part of why he had come here. Hoping to be able to talk to someone without blatant reminders of his absence.

Because essentially, it was empty without Dazai. He hated walking down the halls. He hated the part of him that anticipated seeing him, getting ready to think of something snarky to say or give him a crude look.

Yet he never came.

It would never happen again.

The thought made him close his eyes, but a brush against his hand made him open them again.

“Don’t keep it in your head. Say it out loud. I’ll listen.” She held his gaze.

As if he even needed to say anything, she understood him completely. “I didn’t know him like you did–I wasn’t around him as much as you were, but I know.”

Only then did he notice how tired she looked. In a normal instance, perhaps he would have quipped back that it was a good thing she wasn’t around Dazai as much. He would have cursed Dazai out, saying it was a pain being around him against his will so much. Yet it felt like reopening wounds that hadn’t even closed to say something like that right now. She hadn’t been around Dazai as much, but it had still hurt her. It had hurt everyone. Is that what he felt? Hurt that Dazai had left?

“I hate him. I hate him so much, you know. And yet I–” he didn’t expect to get words stuck in his throat when he started talking but already, it had alleviated some of the pressure in his head and chest. It felt safe here, he hadn't even realized how much he'd already opened up. He hadn’t felt that in a long time, especially because of recent events. “I can’t understand why he left,” he whispered.

That was the part he had been trying to ignore. It was impossible to try to understand Dazai’s actions, anyway. But most of all, he didn’t want to admit he even cared that he'd left because he hated Dazai. But everyone had called them a team. That held weight in and of itself. Dazai was the only one who could stop him. Only one who could irk him so much with his stupidity.

These were parts he couldn’t say out loud, at least not yet. But [Y/N] hadn’t pushed it. Instead, she voiced the rest of the worries that plagued him, “I get it. No one knows what will happen after this. If he'll come back, or if he'll expose all our secrets. I know it’s unlikely, but it's not like any of us could ever understand what was going through his head anyway. No one expected an Executive to suddenly up and leave. I didn’t know him very well. And yet, for such a person to leave, it makes me wonder: were we not enough? What did we do wrong?”

At some point, they ended up leaning against each other rather than facing each other. Now that he’d been able to get the weight of the situation off his chest, he felt tired. Like he could finally fall asleep after a week of tossing and turning.

He hadn’t even spoken that much. [Y/N] had understood him completely and said most of it. Part of him labeled Dazai as just a flat-out traitor, which he hated, but he still couldn’t fathom what had made him do it. Why, if they had been unstoppable, had that not been enough.

But he didn't want to think about it if his mind was no longer racing with questions. “Thank you, [Y/N]. Really,” he said, meaning to say it as a goodbye but he didn’t get up. He didn’t want to move.

She didn’t move either, her head was resting on his shoulder. “It’s late. If you want to stay here, that’s okay, Chuuya. Even if you just want company, that’s okay.”

She had read him so well, his pride wanted to deny it. But then there was the rest of him. The loyalty and care for others that had got him where he was in life. Whether that was a good thing or not, he wasn’t entirely sure yet, but he didn’t want to move.

As a last attempt, he tried to justify himself as being under the influence. But he knew hadn’t touched a glass of wine since the bottle he’d opened in initial celebration of Dazai’s disappearance a week ago. This was simply him listening to the pull in his chest.

#chuuya x reader #nakahara chuuya #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader

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whatdudtheysay · 1 year

Text

Maid cafes ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

Toji fushiguro x F!reader (Black female reader)

Context - Toji finally goes along with Gojo to a maid café he's been bugging him about.

Cw - smut , use of strong language (not proofread so sorry for errors)

Part 2

Toji regretted it as soon as they entered. Why? Well the welcome was enough for him to want to go home.

A pink haired girl in a maid dress, fluffy cat ears adorned her cosplay. Toji thought she was cute, sure but the whole place wasn't his style. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his black button up shirt and grey paid pants whilst Gojo wore lighter attire.

"Welcome to the sweet treats café!" The pink haired maid greeted the pair, bowing out of respect. "Oh, master Gojo, would you like for me to get your usual table?"

Gojo shook his head.

"No thanks Diane, a table for two on the balcony should be good."

The maid toji now knew as Diane nodded with a smile, leading them upstairs and into the balcony area which was less crowded.

"I'll get a server with you guys as soon as possible." Diane informed once they were seated, giving them one last sweet smile before heading back downstairs.

Toji sighed deeply, already regretting coming here. This was where the next hour and a half of his break would be spent. An overly pink decorated cafe with plushies and pink cats decorated.

"She's a cute one right?" Gojo hummed, flicking through the menu.

Toji just shrugged, taking his own menu and looking through the different cakes and sweets that were available.

"You fucked her yet?" Toji asked, focusing on some of the more basic options. I mean, how the fuck was he supposed to know what a strawberry matcha delight was?

Gojo almost choked on his saliva, looking around to make sure there weren't any kids.

"geez. You really have no filter." He rolled his eyes.

Toji raised a brow.

"And that isn't your business."

He got his answer.

He was about to complain more but the sound of heels clacking made him pause, both him and Gojo looking towards the stairs.

As told, a maid showed. But Toji didn't expect the so-called 'maid' to look like that. He practically froze. You were dressed in the light pink maid costume but the skirt looked a lot shorter, pink lace thigh highs hugging your legs, hands hosting pink and white lacy cuffs whilst your head held pink cat ears, long light brown french curls with some streaks being pink coming down to your back, tied back in a high pony tail.

For once in his life, toji was speechless, watching silently as you walked over.

"Ah, master Gojo!" You greeted, bowing slightly. Fuck your voice was the cherry on the cake.

"it's so lovely to see you again. And you are.."

Toji realised you were talking to him and that he'd been staring longer than he wanted.

"Oh." Gojo interrupted. "This is my co-worker, Toji."

You smiled wholeheartedly. "It's nice to meet you master Toji." You bowed slightly.

He cleared his throat, beads of sweat starting to build at his forehead.

"Feelings mutual."

"So," you started, bringing out your notepad. "What can I get for you both?"

"I'll have the tiramisu with a white chocolate glaze and a black coffee."

You jotted Gojo's order down quickly, your attention moving to toji after.

"And for you, sir?"

Toji's mind was going wild and he finally realised he hadn't even chosen.

Gojo just sighed and flipped toji's menu so it was closed, placing it on top of his.

"He'll get the chocolate and vanilla cake and the same drink."

You smiled and jotted that down before taking both menus from Gojo.

"Alright, thanks. I'll be up here soon with that."

When you were finally gone Gojo turned to toji with a shit eating grin.

"That whipped by a girl you just met? You're sweating"

Toji swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"Shut up." Toji brushed off, using his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his forehead, Gojo laughing in return.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't though. You were too pretty for your own good. And even though he had just met you, he already wanted you.

After minutes of painful teasing from Gojo, you finally returned, tray in hand, your face focused on balancing it all, a giveaway that you weren't the most dexterous waitress here.

You placed the tray down gently, a proud look on your face.

"Phew.." you whispered, "Enjoy your meal!"

You then skipped off. Toji was slightly distracted though. Looking at the stairs every time he heard heels or shuffling of feet, hoping to see you, only to be disappointed by other maids or guests. Luckily for him though, the balcony area soon began to become more crowded, meaning he got to see you a couple of times, talking to different people and interacting with kids that ran by every so often. Distracted by your presence so much that he wasn't even sure as to what Gojo was babbling about.

"And then I said, Sarah, you can't just steal food from the work fridge all the time and- toji? Toji!"

"Hm?" Toji hummed, still looking at you taking orders from a nearby table.

"Dude. You're being creepy." Gojo pointed out, finally making toji look down at his plate again. "If you're that interested in her then get her number. We gotta get back to the office in 15 minutes."

Usually that would be easy for Toji but there was something about you that was different. For one, you weren't just one of the girls he'd sleep with when he went to different clubs or parties.

Gojo practically deadpanned toji at his reluctance before calling you over, toji's heart dropping to his ass.

You quickly wrapped up the table you were attending before skipping over to their table.

"Can I do anything else for you guys?"

"Well, we're ready to wrap up here, could we get the check?"

You nodded before clearing the table, taking the messy tray back downstairs. Once you were gone, Gojo faced Toji with a mischievous look.

"Get her number. Put it on my card." Gojo quickly said before placing his card down and leaving the table before Toji could even react.

Toji mentally cursed himself, the only option was for him to wait for you to come back up. He waited and waited. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes felt like hours. Why was he acting like this?

Eventually, you finally came back up again, an apologetic smile on your lips.

"So sorry for the holdup! Did master Gojo leave already?"

Toji felt his head blur before he snapped back into it.

"Yeah. Shit....uh, can you put it on this card?"

You nodded, taking the card from Toji, your fingers slightly brushing against his gave Toji a weird surge of electricity, watching as you tapped it against the card reader, waiting before a confirmation sound came from the reader, giving toji the card back.

"Please, let me walk you out." You offered. And you were too fucking cute to say no to so toji ended up agreeing, walking down the stairs with you to see that the place had become a lot more crowded. He guessed this was rush hour.

Just as you got to the doors toji bit his tongue before deciding to go for it.

"Hey..." Toji mentally slapped himself. He hadn't even gotten your name off of Gojo and you didn't have a tag. "Uh...can I get your number."

You stared at him silently, just blinking before snapping back to reality.

"Oh- of course, sure-" you stammered.

Toji offered you his phone, watching as you typed your digits into his mobile before handing it back to him.

Toji took his phone, staring at the contact, expecting to see your name but just saw the words "maid café girl".

He was about to ask but by the time he looked back up you were a few steps away.

"I'll see you, please come again soon-"

Toji just nodded, walking out and taking in a deep breath of air, tension finally being let off of his chest.

Guess he had something to thank Gojo for anyway.

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

"Shit-" toji cursed, his hand moving faster over his erection, brows knitted together as he gripped the sheets.

He'd made a big mess of his aftermath on both him and his bed, some leaking onto the floor. He'd been up since he got home and now it was 1am in the morning and here he was, rubbing his hard cock with only you in his mind.

At first, his thoughts about you became a lot more lewd, leading to him getting an erection that wouldn't be ignored, instead giving him an uncomfortable ache. And once he started he couldn't stop, thoughts of you flooding his mind.

He wanted to fuck you from behind in your uniform and listen to how you struggled to take him. Or even better, fuck you on the counter of the maid café and watch as your pretty eyes rolled back as he sunk into your wet pussy.

Toji whined pathetically as he felt another orgasm coming up, grunts coming from deep into his throat.

Or maybe he'd make you choke on his dick, watching as your tiny hands tried to stroke what you couldn't fit in your mouth, your pretty eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

That was enough for Toji. He groaned loudly as his cum spurted out in thick ropes, making a mess on the floor. He finally sighed in relief, watching as his erection finally began to calm down. He laid flat against his bed, the cool sheets giving him comfort.

Once Toji finally got himself and his room cleaned, he laid in bed, staring at his phone before finally deciding to text you.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#smut #toji x black y/n #toji x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk toji #jjk smut #daddy toji #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

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soaringeag1e · 5 months

Text

Escape {70} Final

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, A Tad Bit of Sadness, Fluff

Words: 2,114

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

The cold weather wasn’t as extreme as it has been in the past, but today was definitely one of the nicest since the flowers had bloomed and the trees were filling out. A perfect day to have off work, especially with you.

You had wanted to go out and enjoy a nice lunch somewhere, preferably a place with outside seating so the two of you could enjoy the day, and Dean knew exactly where to go. It was a nice little place just up the street from the precinct, the balcony out back was blocked by trees, shielding everyone from the streets and giving a nice intimate setting. Plus, now that everything was filling out and the flowers were splashing the town with color, it was the best place to spend such a beautiful afternoon.

Between everything that has happened in the last year, from almost losing you to practically his own life ending in the hospital and then actually losing his best friend just to turn around and get married and then go back to work after calling it quits for awhile, this felt like the first time in a long time that Dean was able to take a solid breath and not have to rush off and do something else. Plus, looking across the table at you and seeing the way your hair shined under the rays of the sun and the way your eyes seemed so vibrant, he feels like he hasn’t been able to enjoy your beauty for awhile either. Something that tore at his heart a bit.

“You’re so beautiful.” he slips, saying it out loud when all he was doing was thinking it. When your eyes lock with his and your smile shines he has to remind himself to breathe. It’s like having a first date with you all over again, but now you’re his wife. Something he still can’t believe.

Your cheeks darken and your head ducks a bit as you try to hide the blush. You busy yourself with grabbing your napkin from the table and placing it in your lap and it seemed to be just in time too. Just as you did, the waitress came out with your dishes. You had ordered some pasta dish that Dean was now kind of regretting he didn’t get and he had fallen in his usual hole of ordering a juicy burger with extra onions.

“That looks good.” he comments, nodding towards your bowl before snatching a fry from his plate.

“You want to try some?” As you grab your fork and spear a bit of everything, Dean shakes his head, not wanting to steal your food from you. But you’re not taking no for an answer. Cradling your hand under the fork so as to not lose anything, you reach across the table so he can have a bite.

The second it lands on his tongue he’s in love. The flavor is ridiculous and he’s trying so hard to savor the bite. If his burger is half as good as your pasta, then he can’t wait to attack it.

“Good?” All Dean can do is make satisfied groans which of course makes you giggle, getting him to open his eyes again and look at you.

“So good.” he adds when he finally swallows the bite down. He takes another fry from his plate and then he is so ready to grab that burger and sink his teeth into it, but before he can pick it up, he catches another glimpse of you and it has him hold off for another moment. “You okay?”

“Yeah!” you answer with a bit of a startle, but you’re smiling. “Yeah, I’m fine.” A small chuckle comes from you, but Dean picks up the nervousness in it and his concern grows a bit more. “I um…I have something for you.” When you reach for your bag Dean is instantly trying to think of what you could possibly have for him, but the entire thing has caught him off guard. “I was going to wait until after we ate, but…” you pause as you struggle to remove whatever it is from your purse. “I just don’t think I can wait any longer.” you tell him as you hand off a thin square box.

He looks at it briefly before taking it from you, his mind racing on why you got him something. Did some special occasion pass? First date? Some new holiday that he didn’t know about? Was he about to be in the dog house for forgetting something important?

Slowly pulling at the ribbon, the string comes loose and he goes to lift the lid on the box. A card sits on top and it isn’t until he picks it up that he becomes even more confused.

Happy Father’s Day

He has to read over the words again, his heart racing a bit more as his brain begins to figure out why he’s getting this from you. He looks up to question you, but his eyes catch the next thing in the box before he can.

His hand trembles as he sets the card aside and then grabs the soft material. Lifting it, it unfolds and falls open to reveal blue stitches.

My Hero wears a badge

I call him Daddy

The little shirt could seriously be worn on his hand, it was so little. But his heart swelled and without realizing, tears sprung to his eyes.

Again, before he can acknowledge you, he sees another object in the box. A small black and white, grainy picture. No perfect outline of a baby yet, but seeing as you don’t even look pregnant he can only assume you’re not too far along.

“I would’ve told you earlier but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.” you finally speak, making his emotions a little more fierce. He nods lightly, gnawing on his bottom lip as he tries to hold it all in. “That’s why I’ve been so exhausted lately.” you giggle and that’s when Dean gets out of his chair and comes around to you. His hands lightly pull on yours and pull you up from your seat and that’s when he wraps his arms around you. His lips find your cheek and he just holds you for a minute before whispering.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” That’s when he pulls away, his eyes glistening but his smile beaming even brighter. He seems like he wants to say something, but it just doesn’t come out, so he just leans in and kisses you instead.

You’re not sure how long it lasted, but he rested his forehead against yours, telling you how happy he was and how much he loved you before his phone went off. He wanted to ignore it, but you could tell by the regret in his eyes that he just couldn’t.

“Just give me a sec, okay?” You give him a nod of understanding, taking your seat again as he steps away and giving himself privacy.

A heavy breath releases from your chest, one of relief since you’ve been holding this in for so long. At least it felt like a long time. You hated keeping it from him, but you just weren’t sure how to tell him and you just couldn’t stop overthinking it.

Watching Dean pace around while talking on the phone, you eventually get your own alert on your phone. You catch a glimpse of the text before it clears from your screen, smiling softly when you see that Sarah was checking in on you. She had been keeping up with you of course, being your confidant with all this and she knew how nervous you were for not only telling Dean but for what the future held for you now that you were pregnant. Being a first time mom and not planning on it, it definitely freaked you out. But she was definitely a great rock for you up to this point.

How’s it goin?

Another breath of relief leaves your body, taking some more stress with it as you text her back.

Wonderful

2 Years Later

The chill in the air was almost comforting so Dean was in no hurry to get back to the car. Looking over the engraved letters and numbers, memories flashed in his brain. Some happy and others not so much. He tried not to think back to the last day Eddie was on this earth, but it was hard not to. Seeing that date, he just remembered looking for you and then knowing that while he was dying on the ground in the barn, Eddie was out in the woods, protecting you.

Little scuffles got him clearing his throat and quickly wiping at his eyes before looking over and smiling at the toddler waddling in his direction. Walking was a skill that was mastered about a year prior, but being so little, walking through thick damp grass was something the little one took a bit slower.

“Hey, buddy.” His little arms reached out for his dad, making all three smiles grow. But the little one only remained in his dads arms briefly before moving over to the stone sticking up from the ground. His little hands grabbed the rocky top and he held on for a minute before he laid his head down on it, almost like he was giving the stone a hug,

Dean's heart exploded with happiness and a small amount of heartbreak. There wasn’t a day that went by that Dean didn’t wish Eddie was there to work alongside him again and then after his son was born, he wished he was there to be another loving uncle in his life. But this was the closest the two would get to each other and that's what hurt him the most.

“Awe. You giving uncle Eddie a hug?” you say with a smile, walking up to the two boys. Dean looks up, his smile growing as he looks you over. Your hand runs over your slightly swollen belly as you grin at your son who is now wrapping his little arms around the top of the stone. “That’s so sweet.” It’s then that the boy pulls away, but only enough to now kiss the rock. It was definitely hard for Dean to hold himself together then, but he did. “Yep. We love you, huh?” When you squat down next to Dean, your son walks up to you, letting you take him in your arms while the three of you visit your fallen friend. A few minutes go by when your hand runs over Dean’s back and you smile at him.

“We’ll wait for you in the car?” Dean slowly nods, smiling at the two of you. “Okay. Come on, sweetie. Let’s give daddy a minute.” As you get to your feet, the boy leans over your shoulder, watching his dad while you both walk away.

“I wish you were here.” Dean finally whispers. His eyes still on you as you buckle your son in his carseat. “It’s weird because he reminds me of you.” he says as he turns back to the stone, a soft chuckle escaping him. “At first I thought it was just because we named him after you, but…that’s not it. Makes me wonder if you’re watching over him more than I think.” he laughs again and then takes a breath. “Well,” he says, wiping the dirt off the base of the stone. “Happy birthday, man.”

Looking over his friends name one more time, Dean gets to his feet, holding onto the stone for balance at first, but for comfort after the fact. His hand pats the rigid rock, taking another moment before walking away and heading for the car.

Dean made it a priority to go and see Eddie’s grave every week. It’s just what he thought his friend deserved, especially after what he had done for you. But if a holiday rolled around, sometimes that one trip would turn to two.

Dean felt like that’s the least he could do. He felt like he owed him his own life because if it wasn’t for him Dean would have lost you and he would have never gotten married, never had his gorgeous son and never would be living the perfect life he was right now. He had everything he ever dreamed of and it was because of Eddie that he had it.

There was no way he could repay Eddie for saving you that terrible night, but he definitely didn’t let a day go by where he didn’t talk to his friend and thank him for what he did and he never would.

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

Text

Shadows and tears

So this is a series about Azriel and reader. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Summary: Reader is a tortured soul who barely escaped the brutality of the Illyrian camps finding shelter in the Day Court. Her identity was well hidden until she caught the attention of the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Will the mating bond be enough for their love to settle in?

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

You don't need a tissue box.....yet

Masterlist

Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Chapter 5

What did I do?

It was a month later when you had landed without a sound on the balcony -thanks to the training with the shadow singer- that you found him on the couch with Elain in his arms, kissing her like a starved male, a bile climbed in your throat and then you felt it…

Snap.

You gasped, Azriel jumped on his feet and stared at you, Elain had a smirk on her face, her lips swollen by the kiss. You turned around and run to your room muttering quick apologies to the couple for disturbing them. You felt Azriel moving towards you, but your shadows built a wall behind you covering for you until you were inside the room and had locked the door. Then they slid under the door but stood guard there to block Azriel’s shadows from breaking in. You jumped on your bed a silent sob breaking through your body cursing the cauldron and the Mother for playing you like that. After everything I’ve been through…why? Do I not deserve happiness?

You remembered your young self inside the cell imagining that you would find your mate and he would pull you out of your misery, praying that he wouldn’t be anything like your father, and now you found him, and he is the exact opposite of your father, but his heart? His heart is gold and belongs to another…

Sleep never came, you spent your night crying quietly, Azriel didn’t come for you and your shadows informed you that neither his shadows made an appearance. That’s what you wanted right? Then why did it hurt?

You stayed in your room for the next days Mor and Nesta were the only ones you let inside telling them what happened and making them promise not to tell anyone sealing your promise with a tattoo. They informed you that Azriel was distant, trying to isolate himself from everyone and most importantly from Elain. After some days you decided to make your appearance, you wouldn’t tell Azriel anything about the bond at least not until you decided if you were going to reject it. You made yourself decent enough and walked to the dining room finding everyone there like your shadow had already informed you. You noticed that the seat next to Elain was empty, Azriel was sitting on the small couch on the side almost completely covered by his shadows, he only moved when he saw you enter the room, his gaze filled with hope and sadness. Everyone stared at you surprised as you took the usual seat between Nesta and Mor, they both grabbed each one of your hands giving you an encouraging smile. Elain scoffed. Now everyone’s attention was pulled from you to her. “What?” she snapped. Mor sent her a warning look.

“Come on guys, she appeared here like a wounded beast Oh Azriel please help me with my shadows” she scowled making the worst impression of your voice. Disgust clear in her face “and now after taking most of his time she destroyed the one thing that made him happy….” She continued and pointed at herself. “Watch your fucking tongue” Mor growled her hands gripping the table trying to keep her from pouncing on the Archeron sister.

Your eyes watered and you felt Rhysand caressing the shields around your mind -also something Azriel taught you how to build- you let him in silently asking him not to tell anyone what he saw. Rhysand’s face went from surprised to angry as he stared the shadowsinger. Then he heard you in his mind

Let me go please, I need to go back, I need to clear my head.

He nodded and you jumped sending Mor an apologetic look as you ran to the balcony jumping to your freedom, and as everyone was watching your wings flapping and your silhouette disappearing into the sky Azriel felt it…

Snap.

His face changed into a look full of horror.

What did I do?

A small part for now, I will post another one later.

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian acotar #a court of silver flames #cassian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #nessian

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drabbles-mc · 9 months

Text

Lost Time

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

For Day 25 of @narcosfandomdiscord's July Smut Alphabet: yearning

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, light angst

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Horacio Carrillo and his messy relationships, my beloveds 😌

Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @panagiasikelia @616wilsons @hauntedforsst @mirabee @buckybarneshairpullingkink @boomclapxox @nessamc @supersanelyromantic @padbrookcottage @mysun-n-stars @raincoffeeandfandoms @justreblogginfics @ashlingnarcos @proceduralpassion @artemiseamoon @hausofmamadas @narcolini @cositapreciosa (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

You’d lost track of the last time the two of you had spoken. The last phone call between you felt like it had happened lifetimes ago. The last face-to-face conversation? Even longer than that. You both had the feeling that it was coming. Inevitable was too strong of a word, but it was much more than probable.

It would only be so long before he really started holding it against you. You knew that was coming, too. No one got to leave him and let it be a clean break. There always had to be a little bit of a mess. He was practically hardwired for it.

Which was why you didn’t know how shocked you really were when you walked through the airport and saw him standing there waiting for you.

“Horacio?” you said, adjusting the bag on your shoulder.

“I heard you were coming home,” he said, his tone painfully neutral. “I wanted to see it for myself.”

His tone was controlled but you could see it in his eyes that there was more he wanted to say. There was more that he wanted to get into. He wouldn’t do that here, though, not in front of so many people. The look in his eyes almost made you want to remind him that Colombia might’ve been home for him, but it wasn’t home for you. Especially not once he stopped calling.

“Well,” you shrugged, “here I am.”

Your assumption was that the person getting you from the airport was going to be Steve or Javi. Someone from your team. Someone that you figured might still actually want to see you. It crossed your mind that maybe Carrillo had missed you more than his lack of letters and phone calls led you to believe. That, or he just wanted to give you a bit of a hard time and a cold shoulder about the whole ordeal. One of those felt a little more likely than the other.

He at least helped you with your bags. You had the backpack on your shoulders, pulling one rolling suitcase with you while he had the other. It was amazing to you that you’d learned to parse your life down to three bags. If someone had told you five years ago that you’d be able to do that, and that you wouldn’t feel like you were missing parts of yourself in doing so, you would’ve told them that they were insane.

He loaded everything into the back of the CNP vehicle. You made your way to the passenger seat. Just as you were going to buckle yourself in, Carrillo pulled the driver’s door open. And, just for a moment, it felt like you’d never left. There was that strange air of routine to it all. The problem was that everything else about the two of you felt different, strained in a way it never used to be.

“I was just going to head home,” you said as he put the key in the ignition, “unless they really need me there today.”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “Tomorrow is fine.”

“Alright.”

“Same building, right?”

You nodded, watching as his hand maneuvered the gear-shift and put the car in drive. “Yea. Same building. Couple floors up from where I was before.” You paused, trying to cut through whatever weird lingering tension was still in the air between you. “Peña and Murphy will have to put in a little work now if they wanna come up and see me.”

You were ready for him to make a comment about that. Some remark about how you’d still have your same place, the little shoebox of an apartment that had a balcony with a view that made up for all the rest of it, if you just hadn’t up and left. You could see the comments practically dancing on the tip of his tongue. There was a slight shift in his jaw as he bit them back, and you almost wished that he’d let them fly. Him being angry with you would make the previous weeks and weeks of silence a little more understandable. Maybe even palatable.

Whatever snide remarks he’d come up with, he stored away for another time. Anger that he would take out on someone else at a later date, you were sure. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he forced out a simple, “Okay.”

When he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment building, you were ready for him to help you get your bags out, and then just leave the rest of it to you. It wasn’t as though you expected him to come up and help you unpack. Part of you was still surprised that he’d been the one to come and get you. You couldn’t tell what his angle was. You’d seen enough of his anger to know what that was like, and this wasn’t it. But it didn’t feel the same way that it used to between you either.

“I can get it from here,” you told him when he set your bags on the ground.

He shook his head. “I’ll help.”

“Horacio—”

“It’s fine.”

Of all the arguments that the two of you were practically destined to get into in the coming weeks, you weren’t going to let this be one of them. Grabbing one suitcase, you left the other for him. “Thank you.”

Slipping the key into the lock on the door, you let yourself in. You walked in first, Carrillo following close behind. You looked around the apartment as you stepped into it. It was nice enough, the way that most of the housing agents were put up in tended to be. It wasn’t luxury, but it was comfortable. That was really all you needed. You’d only be there to sleep anyway, and it wasn’t as though any of you did enough of that.

“I’d offer you a drink or something,” you told him, chuckling quietly as you dropped your backpack to the floor, “but I’m pretty sure I’ve got nothing to offer.”

“It’s alright.”

The two of you stood there in the space between your new living room and kitchen, the one patch of apartment that had nothing furnishing it. You waited for him to leave, or say something. It still felt like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. You watched him as he looked around, like your government-furnished apartment was suddenly the most interesting thing he’d ever seen before.

“I didn’t think that you’d be the one to come get me,” you told him honestly, cutting through the silence since he clearly had no intention to.

“Why not?”

You laughed, more out of shock than amusement. Carrillo was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. Stubborn, yes, but not stupid. There was no way that he didn’t understand what you meant, why you said it. “You didn’t even want to make a phone call, Horacio.” You shook your head. “Going out of your way to play chauffer didn’t seem like it was going to be in the cards.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to.” His response was quick, his words quiet. You were expecting an edge to his voice but found none.

“No?” you asked, still not believing him.

“I didn’t think that you were ever coming back. So,” he looked down at the floor, shaking his head, “what was the point?”

“The point?” You stepped in closer to him. “I care about you. That was the point. I figured you cared about me too. Maybe that could’ve been the point.”

“Of course I cared.” He caught himself. “Care.”

You frowned. “Cutting me out without telling me why was a weird way to show that.”

“I couldn’t keep listening to you knowing that I wasn’t ever going to see you again. Talking to you, hearing about your day,” he shook his head, “when I wasn’t part—”

“You were part of it, though,” you countered, practically chest-to-chest with him now. “That’s why I spent so much time fucking calling you, writing you. That was you being part of my day. Me being part of yours.” Tears began to sting at the edges of your eyes, emotions you hadn’t had the time to feel in months bubbling back to the surface. “Then you gave it up.”

“You left first,” he argued, but his voice was still quiet.

“But you stopped trying first.”

He wanted to tell you the truth. He wanted to be able to say it all, but words had never been his strong suit. He wanted to tell you that every night he’d get off the phone and for as much as he loved hearing your voice on the other end of the line, it felt like someone dropped a weight on his chest each time he put the phone back down on the receiver. For as much as he loved reading every letter from you, studying all the intricacies of your handwriting, having to see a return address that was so far from where he was stung. He wasn’t enough to make you stay, and the ache of missing you was one type of pain he didn’t know how to stomach.

There was only a shred of distance left between the two of you, but you erased it anyway. Resting your hand on his shoulder, you squeezed lightly. “I missed you.”

His eyes went to your hand, traveling up your arm until they finally reached your face. “I missed you too.” He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax slightly as he leaned in and let his forehead rest against yours. “It’s why I stopped picking up.”

Your eyes shut, and you could feel the tears that were clinging to your eyelashes. “You should’ve said that.”

He couldn’t go back and fix what had already happened, change the things that he did or didn’t say. But he could tell you now, at least. “I stopped because it hurt, because you weren’t coming back. It felt foolish, like I was holding out hope for something that wasn’t going to—”

“But it did,” you said, cutting him off. “And we could’ve had all that time.”

It was an argument that the two of you easily could’ve kept taking in circles. He could keep saying you kicked it all off by leaving, and you could keep saying that he put the final nail in the coffin because he stopped answering your calls. You were both right, and it wasn’t getting either of you anywhere.

“And now?” he asked.

You brought your hand from his shoulder to the side of his face, thumb grazing along his cheek. “I still miss you.”

He felt the way your thumb stopped moving, the way the tips of your fingers pressed into his skin just slightly. You were almost pulling him towards you, but you stopped yourself. Like you heard the words but were still deciding what they meant, how much weight was really behind them. So instead of saying anything more, Carrillo decided that he would just show you instead.

Lifting his chin, he moved just enough to bring his lips to yours. A gesture that was supposed to be soft, a gentle punctuation to prove that he meant what he’d said to you. But the moment that he felt the soft warmth of your lips against his, all of that went out the window. The second he could feel the quick breath that you sucked in when you realized what was happening, all he could do was desperately try to pour himself into you.

His arms snaked around you, pulling himself tight to you. His lips slotted against yours, desperate and bruising. Desperate to put all those nights filled with longing and missing you into something that would actually do one of you some sort of good. He didn’t know who was getting more out of it at that point. He didn’t really care.

He was everything you remembered, all hunger and need, traces of cigarette smoke still lingering on his tongue. A filthy habit you had been on him to quit but in that moment it tasted like coming home. Your fingers curled into the stiff material of his fatigues, needing to find purchase in something to make sure it was all real, that it wasn’t just part of a cruel trick he was playing.

He stopped kissing you for a moment, but his lips were still brushing against yours as he spoke. “I missed you,” he repeated.

In all the late night and early morning calls, the letters that went back and forth, he never really said it like that. Not so concisely, so directly. Like saying it as such would’ve given it too much power, made the distance between you and the yearning that filled it a little too real and too heavy. But now you were in front of him. You were here and he was kissing you, holding you. And he could say it. It was safe to say it now because he already had you back.

You were going to tell him the same, let him know that he wasn’t alone in all of this. He never had been. But he didn’t give you the chance. His lips crashed against yours once more, none of the calculated finesse that was such a staple with the Colonel in any other capacity. It nearly knocked the wind out of you, made your knees buckle, but it didn’t matter because he was holding you tightly enough to keep you from crumbling anyway.

Suddenly he had you falling back onto the sofa. He moved you through the apartment with the ease of someone who had been spending time there with you for weeks already. You didn’t fight him on it, letting your back hit the cushions, his body pinning to yours as he followed you down. You were pulling at his shirt, untucking it from the pants of his fatigues. His hands were already working at your button and zipper, each of you trying to peel the layers off each other as quickly and as clumsily as possible.

It'd gone differently in his head, all the nights when his mind wandered and conjured up what it would be like if he got to see you again, have you again like he used to. It was never quite like this when he pictured it. He’d given himself too much credit, thinking that he would be able to hold back at all, control himself. He couldn’t. From the second he felt the warmth of your skin against his, the tickle of your breath against his jaw, there was no moderation to be found.

Next time, he thought to himself as he yanked your jeans down your legs, next time he would drag it out. He’d take his time with you. But this had all been dragged out long enough. He wouldn’t have even taken the time to bother with his shirt if you hadn’t started with it first, but that was one thing he could easily do for you. He didn’t have it in him to take his time, but he could at least give you that. It hit the floor right before the rest of his clothes.

The groan that he let out as he pushed into you set every inch of you on fire. Your nails dug into his back, raking along skin that you hadn’t been able to touch in far too long. His lips moved away from yours, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck right before his teeth sank into it. Your body drew itself to his, wanting every bit of contact you could get.

He settled inside you for a moment, hips pressed tightly to yours. For a moment all of your thoughts about Colombia not being home couldn’t have felt further from the truth. You were fighting to catch your breath and the two of you had hardly gotten started. Your eyes fluttered shut, focused on how he felt against you, hips against yours, his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to pull him tighter to you, unsure if it was even possible to do so.

The second he started to move his hips, all you had it in you to do was let his name tumble from your lips. You could feel what it did to him, the way his movements became a little more desperate. Every thrust, each press of his lips to your skin, all just trying to pull that sound from you over and over again. Trying to make up for lost nights, all the times when he wanted to hear that same breathless tone from you but couldn’t, wanted to feel the warmth of you against him but you weren’t there. It was a lot to ask when you’d only been back in Colombia for a couple of hours, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Colonel was being unfair. You didn’t mind it this time, though, as his hands slid up your thighs, moving your legs so he could push deeper into you. His lips dragged along your jaw and all the thoughts, the memories, the weight of the last few months, all of it disappeared. It was just the two of you again, finally, for however long it lasted this time.

#narcos netflix fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #narcos netflix #narcos #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #x reader #x reader fic #nffalphabet #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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bejeweledblondie · 6 months

Text

Maroon

Alex Keller x F! Reader

Summary: A barracks party, spilled red wine, & a hangover bring a unlikely pair together (inspired by the Taylor Swift song off of the album Midnights)

Warnings: a lil spicy, female anatomy

You couldn’t believe your friend talked you into coming here. She had matched with some soldier off of Tinder & wanted a friend to come with her to make sure she was safe. As soon as you guys got onto the freakin base she ran off with her Tinder match, leaving you alone. Sitting in a lawn chair you were nursing a glass of red wine. The wine was incredibly cheap, & you winced every time you took a sip. Pure bitterness sat on your tongue. A group of soldiers were only a couple feet away from you playing some beer pong & other drinking games. They were insufferably loud & were incredibly drunk.

As you sat there mentally making a list of judgements you had no idea that you had an admirer. Alex stood cigarette in hand with a open beer can next to him overlooking out into the parking lot. The lower enlisted soldiers were up to their usual weekend shenanigans & he wanted to make sure nothing happened. No matter how many safety briefings at least one soldier was in some sort of trouble. He had noticed the young woman in the lawn chair with the wine in her hand. She looked absolutely miserable. Presumably, not there by choice judging by her body language.

She wore a fitted white cropped shirt & a pair of denim shorts. He couldn’t help noticed how well her chest filled out the shirt. Licking his lips he watched as she adjusted her shirt a bit. She looked around at the maroon sunset sky above her taking her eyes off of the soldiers playing beer pong. Then she looked over towards the barracks noticing Alex unapologetically looking at her. A crimson blush appeared on his cheeks from the embarrassment of getting caught checking her out.

You bit your red stained lips stifling a laugh at the handsome soldier with the facial hair who was just caught. He must’ve felt bold, because she watched him make his way down the stairs walking over to where she was seated. A lit cigarette & open can of beer where in one of his hands. The can looked significantly smaller in his hands with his hands nearly wrapped the around the entire circumference. A small crimson heat started to heat up your face in anticipation.

“Hello ma’am,” He said as he finally reached you. You looked up at handsome man & smiled. “I’m sorry for staring but I couldn’t help it.” He admitted. “You’re just so pretty I had to tell you that.” The heat on your face started to intensify from his compliment. “I’m Alex.” He said holding out his hand. You took his hand in yours shaking it.

“Y/N.” You replied smiling at him.

“I’m assuming you’re not here on your own free will.” He joked.

“Nope.” You said & started to play with the rim of the wine glass. “My friend decided to drag me here to make sure nothing would happen to her while she met up with some soldier.” You explained. “But now I can’t seem to locate her.”

“Ah,” He replied. “Which dating app?”

“Tinder.” You replied bluntly.

“Old reliable.” He joked & took a drag of his cigarette. “By chance would you want to come & sit up on the balcony it’s warmer then sitting down here. You’ll also be away from those idiots.”

“Sure,” You said & accepted his offer. “It beats sitting down here.” When you went to stand up your tripped over a rock spilling your red wine all down the front of your white t-shirt revealing your scarlet lace bra. The burgundy liquid stuck to your skin & completely stained the white material. “Shit!” You screamed out in frustration. Not that Alex enjoyed your misfortune of you ruining a perfectly good t-shirt but he wasn’t complaining at the sight in front of him.

“If you want I could give you one of my old t-shirts to wear for the time being.” He offered trying his hardest to maintain eye contact.

“I’d actually really appreciate it.” You replied taking him up on his offer. He lead you up the stairs to his barracks room. It was neat, well kept somewhat surprising you. A stark contrast from unkept messy room of the soldier your friend ran off with. He dug into a drawer & threw you an old pt shirt.

“If you’d like to take a quick shower to get cleaned up the bathroom is just through that door.” He offered. You walked into the bathroom & started the shower. Stripping out of your wine stained shirt & jeans you hopped into the shower. The warm water washed away the sticky red substance from your body. Once you were finally clean you grabbed the maroon bath towel that laid on the towel rack wrapping yourself in it. You walked out & Alex sat on his bed scrolling through this phone. He felt your presence & his eyes raked over your towel clad frame. You don’t know if was the wine talking or the sexual tension that been building but you dropped the towel. Pressing your blood red lips to his you had absolutely no idea you were getting yourself into.

You awoke the next morning with a heavy arm draped over your waist cocooned in burgundy bed sheets. The soft snores of Alex woke you up from the daze you were in. An overwhelming dull hangover made you groan as your eyes caught some of the light peaking out between the curtains. Alex stirred & woke up to you laying in his arms. His lips were stained from the lipstick that was now smeared onto your cheek. He pressed a small kiss to your lips & pulled you in tighter to his body.

“How did I end up here anyway?” You asked groaning.

“My roommates cheap red wine & screw top rosé.” He replied.

#call of duty #cod imagines #cod masterlist #cod modern warfare #call of duty smut #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #ghost call of duty #ghost x y/n #captain john price #captain price #captain price x y/n #cod x reader #john price x reader

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roznnreads · 2 months

Text

Chosen not Fated Chapter 2

Eris x Fem!Reader

Tags: marriage of convenience, rhysand slander, depression, suicidal ideation

Summary: Tired of a life in the shadow among the inner circle, Rhysand’s younger sister decides to take her life into her own hands and makes a desperate grab for power.

Chapter Summary: snippets of time over the next 500 years

a/n: so this is a longer one, but bear with me on this one. I know that Mor’s backstory was before the wall was made but ignore that for the plot. For the high lords summet I was just imagining PMQs (Prime Minister Questions) if you are in the UK you’ve probably heard of them. I have put a Great Comet reference in there. If you can find it, I'll give you a cookie.

last part , next part

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6 months after the war

Something was wrong when I awoke at 3am, Azriel had flown to my balcony and forcefully woken me up, my eyes bleary.

“Come quick, meet in the main hall”. Yelled Azriel, my vision coming clear and he was already gone. I grab a robe to cover myself and leave my room.

I’m half way down the great stairs to the foyer, eyes already adjusting to the darkness, when I see her.

Mor, my cousin, looking as if she crawled her way halfway across Prythian. There are stab wounds that are trying to heal themselves yet are struggling, her dress is thin and muddy, the look in her eyes is one of a prey animal. I know that this is not the Mor, she would have wanted anyone to see, the carefully made mask ripped from her as the nails that ripped through her lower abdomen.

“Mor!”, I sob, running towards her, taking the robe from me and wrapping it around her crumpled body, her shoulders hung low, she isn’t crying, her face is blank, not all the way here.

The Men standing around the scene are surveying us closely, Azriel stands next to his brothers arms crossed, the three of them look like the Judge, Jury and Executioner of Mor’s fate, they are still and not moving,

“Take her to her chambers”, stated Rhys in a blank expression, I knew it was directed towards me. I position Mor so she can put her weight on me and rise, with a curt nod towards my High Lord, I stagger with Mor by my side up the stairs, when I’m nearing the top I can make out the conversation below in snippets

“Keir thought–”

“Cassian what–”

“-was in autumn–”

“That bastard–”

I take Mor to my chambers, where she normally stays is farther from the foyer than mine. I lead her to the bed and lie her down, taking her soiled shoes off and covering her in a blanket. As soon as her head hits the pillow she closes her eyes. I thought that she might have died until the soft lowering and rising from her chest. With Mor asleep and not at risk of collapsing in on herself I take my time examining her stomach, pus surrounds the gash, I grab a water basin and a rag. I gently dab at the wound, when the wet rag touches the open skin I feel Mor flinch but didn’t wake up. I gently clean up the gash, the healing looks much better now it's clean, it doesn’t look as messy which is good. It might scar but you can never be sure. The pus is a good sign, she still is fighting whatever infection is still inside her.

I don’t leave her side, I stay awake, waiting for the worst, for the rise and fall to stop, but it doesn’t, she’s still alive in the morning. Thank the Mother.

64 years after the war

The High Lords Summet, another performance. Everyone dresses up and pretends to be civil with each other even though half of the attendees want to kill each other and the other want to fuck the other. When you are basically immortal these yearly gatherings always are filled with drama in our otherwise dreary lives. Without this summet the continent would be a much darker place of endless war and strife. It’s fun to sit and watch the members squirm in their seats as the imposed politeness of centuries past remains with the High Lords and their allies use cleverly worded language to get around the insults they throw at each other.

Nothing ever gets truly done, if anything the opposite happens.

With the War over the relative peace is wavering as a power vacuum is left, the unity that led to the fey win has split as fast as it was formed, which is to mean slowly yet sudden. There will be talk of a danger to the West with Hybern but nothing will be decided.

Of course the Night Court is masking our true intentions as well as a good 1/3rd of the court's existence. I’ve perfected a natural sneer, it feels normal to wear, no one wishes to approach you if you look like you hate their existence, But no one would approach me other than a power grab for the Night Court.

Beron and Helios are ‘arguing’ over Cauldron knows what, the eldest Autumn son catches my eye, he is looking at me with a confused expression, I don’t drop my gaze, I am tired of being perceived weak, The confusion warps to a seductive smirk. I drop my sneer, raising an eyebrow at him in question.

He has never looked at me this way before, I started attending these events a few dozen years ago, and only after the war ended. I have seen the heir occasionally throughout my life, never paying much attention but with the look in his eye I am frightened.

200 years after the war

I made up my mind. Well I did 136 years ago, but I never let myself truly believe this will become my future. Since the High Lord Summet I always knew in the back of my mind that Eris Vanserra would make the perfect companion, a chance to leave my crushing depression behind, a new environment. His gaze rarely leaves mine when in the same room.

Rhysand wasn’t happy, Azriel ever the watchful eye snitched when he saw Eris try to approach me when he came to visit Velaris. I was told to stay away from the Vanserra, for my own safety, to never lead on his advances. I didn’t heed the warning.

450 years after the war

This is stupid, I should have stayed in Velaris, It isn’t safe here, yet I am compelled to be here.

I am making no attempt to hide my entry, the entrance was unguarded, like a venus fly trap waiting until the fly gets deep enough inside before ensnaring it, devouring it alive.

The dark gray rocks, jagged like they were cut recently, have not formed after years of erosion and nature. It is a disgusting recreation at Hewn City, there is nothing real about this place, all artificial.

Voices ahead of the path get louder as I draw near, I can hear a commanding woman, her voice shrill, echoing down the tunnel, I hear the murmuring of a crowd, in response.

Entering the room from the back, I walk out, pushing through the mass of courtesans from all seven courts.

I stand before the queen on the stone throne, she has deep red hair, a black crown dressed in a low cut black dress, wearing the guise of power. She frowns at me

“Were you trying to hide someone from me Rhysand, you know what would happen if you tried something of this kind”

“I had no intention to hide anyone, I just never mentioned it, you never asked” Rhysand said calmly. Amarantha wheeled at him breaking her gaze at me

“Don’t you lie to my Rhys” She says with her hand cupping his cheek. I know my brother, the look of love he gives Amarantha, is not true love, with a look like that he could make anyone believe he was their mate from one look in his eyes.

“I am not lying, just don’t hurt my sister”, he pleaded.

500 years after the war

Lucien was being idiotic, perhaps it was the 50 years in Spring that made him weak to authority, I doubt less than a year in Spring was enough to build a unwavering loyalty to the human alone, it was probably the unyielding loyalty to Tamlin, it truly is a shame, he was one of the nicer Autumn royals, he is going to die. That is as clear as day, I am watching as Amarantha is whipping Lucien, each lash leaves a resounding echo in the hall, it pierces my ears, Lucien slighted Amarantha, broke a unspoken rule, I can’t look away, I want to but I can’t.

In a room with all eyes on the kneeling man, I can feel a burning stare into my head.

I look up.

Eris. You would think that with his brother getting beat he would be focused on that, but he was looking at me, were across from each other, the scene splitting us, Eris is looking at me, I can’t decipher his expression.

500 years after the war

This is wrong, my brother, someone who is forced to be a whore for Amarantha, making the poor human dress and dance like this. I am surprised Amarantha has allowed this to continue, the first two of the trials have been completed. I know that she is dragging out the time between them but it has been 2 months since the last, and every night we party, perhaps the only fun we will ever have. Rhysand has forced this girl to dance on him, Amarantha doesn’t like to share. It's disgusting. The poor girl can’t dance that well either. It truly is pitiful.

I realize I’ve been staring at them for far too long, looking away I feel a figure stand beside me, I’d not noticed before, but they must have been there awhile

“And here I thought the Night Court was better than this” said the man, I glace at him, seeing the Autumn Court Heir.

“And what gave you that perception Lordling”

“I met you, Surely, I thought, a beauty like you could not survive such a evil environment”

“You thought wrong Vanserra” I say, with the bitterness I struggle to conceal.

“My dear, what have I done now,” he said moving in front of me, blocking my view of the Amarantha’s whore and his harlot. We're so close together now, I can feel his breath on my face, as he peers down at me waiting for a retort.

I meet his gaze, moving slowly closer, glance down at his lips. When he moves in, I back off, moving farther back then before, a modest 2 feet between us, something that would have been considered proper if not for what happened moments before.

“Excuse me my lord, I need to rest for a moment”, I say. I turn my back to him and make my way to the chambers, he doesn’t follow.

501 years after the war

The curse breaker's wedding is in two hours, Rhysand has not shut up about her since we returned to Velaris, he’s acting like he is 100 again, a poor little school boy with a crush.

The news of the Wedding reached the Night Court last week, not an invite, just the announcement, It could be seen as a slight but considering how Tamlin and Rhysand hate each other, an invite wasn’t expected, The announcement had unnerved the high lord, currently he is pacing around the war room, waiting to build up the nerve to fulfill the deal made 3 months ago.

“There’s no way for you to stop this” said Mor “she loves Tamlin, her love was shown in front of all the High Lords, it is that love for which she is alive right now”

“If you feel that strongly, object to the wedding, make the bond known to her”, I said

Rhysand’s pacing slowed.

“Why don’t you just speak to her, you could have taken her any time over the past few months, told her then, you still have two hours until the ceremony starts,” I snip.

“No, as much as I can feel her suffocating spiral, in her mind all she is saying is that she must marry him, and if that is her choice, I must follow it, no matter how much it pains me” said Rhys taking a seat in on a couch

“Marriage is not the end, she is now fey, divorce is an option, The Spring isn’t that strict on women regardless” Mor states “she must fulfill her end of the deal, eventually”.

506 years after the war

There is to be a massive celebration for the birthday of the High Lady, A week of revelry ending in a ball with members of other Courts in attendance, Feyre’s birthday shall be the day before with an intimate get together of the circle.

Large groups of people aren’t my favorite thing in the world, spending the day surrounded by the inner circle. That is what I truly dread.

Preparations are being made, I’m in charge as the sister to the High Lord with a wife there is little for me to do other than plan social events and tend to the house all in the assistance for the High Lady, A glorified ladies maid. Despite my resentment I think the ball will turn out spendley, as long as certain members invited can keep the dick measuring contest to a minimum.

“Are you alright” said Elain leaning into my view “You’ve been zoned out for quite some time”

“Oh, It’s nothing, just going over the plan for tomorrow evening” I state in a blasé tone.

“Enough of that, it is a time for celebration, you’ve spend so much time on this you need to enjoy it before the next one comes around” says Elain

“I’m sure you’ll have fun, it’s like your glued to the dance floor”

“If you danced you would understand, we are in Velaris I’m sure if you asked someone they would accept” said Elain, she held my hands in hers, hand covering mine, a sympathetic look in her eye.

“I haven’t danced in many centuries, you don’t know why, so I forgive you but I won’t dance with just anyone”

#acotar fanfic #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra

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hischierswhore · 1 year

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i loved your red card fic! could you please do one where pulisic has started dating a soccer legend’s daughter and his super nervous?? then her dad jokingly pretends to hate him but turns out to be his biggest fan!!!

welcome to the family

pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

TW: none

A/N: switched the request up a bit, and it's a bit on the shorter side

Christian opened the door for you as you exited his car, holding your hand as you walked up to your parents front door. You could sense he was nervous, his hand shaking ever so slightly as you approached the door, hand in hand.

"You ready?" You whispered as you gently rubbed his arm as a form of reassurance.

"Yeah"

"I know you're nervous, but he's going to love you. I promise" You smiled at him before kissing him on the cheek. causing him to blush. You reached out and pressed the doorbell.

Moments later your mother opened the door for you both, wrapping both you & Christian in a tight hug.

"Y/n! You look great, mi hija! You too, Christian!" Your mom spoke in broken English, but you both understood what she meant. You followed her into the house, making your way to the living room where your dad was waiting.

"Papi!" You shouted as you ran into his arms. It'd been a while since you'd seen him, as he was traveling a lot before he won the World Cup.

"Mi princesa!" He held you tightly. You both let go and you allowed Christian to make his introduction.

"Hola Señor Messi. Es un placer conocerte" Christian was not fluent with your native tongue, but he had been practicing for this moment for a while. Your dad raised an eyebrow before looking at you.

"¿El habla español?"

"No. Él sabe algunas palabras, pero no puede entender completamente de que estamos hablando" Your dad nodded before turning back to Christian.

"It's nice to meet you, Christian" He stuck his hand out for your boyfriend to shake, Christian immediately reaching out and shaking it.

Your mom entered the room to announce that dinner was done, signaling for you all to enter the dining room. You sat down next to Christian, your hand slowly rubbing his arm. You could still tell that he was nervous, despite leaving a good first impression on your dad. He wasn't worried about your mom, as he had met her countless times before. Your dad was just always busy.

Dinner went without an issue. The slight language barrier was always there, but you were able to translate. It was after dinner that Christian's nerves got worse: your dad had asked to speak with him privately.

Christian followed your dad to the balcony, leaning against the railing slightly.

"I can tell you're nervous. Take a seat, I promise I don't bite" Christian's face flushed, immediately letting out an 'im sorry' before taking a seat in front of your father.

"I know we only just met, pero I can see how happy you make my princesa & how happy she makes you" Christian smiled at this.

"Just please promise me you'll protect & love her with everything you've got. She deserves el mundo y mucho mas, and I think you can give that to her" Your dad's arm reached for Christian's shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"She makes me the happiest man in the world, sir. I promise to love and protect her forever"

"Por favor, llámame Lio" Your dad smiled, bringing Christian in for a hug.

"Bienvenido a la familia, Christian"

"Es un placer" Christian replied. The nerves he had only moments ago had disappeared.

After speaking to your dad a bit more, Christian knew that you were who he wanted to be with forever.

#✎ natalie writes #christian pulisic #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fanfic

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rwby-imagines-and-headcanons · 9 months

Text

RWBY Love Languages (Part 1)

Ruby Rose - Physical Touch

Ruby has multiple ways of showing affection, but her favorite is definitely touch. Pouncing on you is her go to, unfortunately leading to you both falling. When you're together she is always touching you in some way. Although she can be hyper, after a long day, nothing feels better than gently melting into your arms (Also she is not adverse to PDA, so expect tons of hand holding and public kisses)

Weiss Schnee - Quality Time

It is well known that Weiss' family is not the most healthy, and it shows in her. As much as she is initially adverse to (but truly desires) affection in any way, quality time is the most important thing to her. The simple fact of you willingly choosing to spend time with her and stay by her side, despite everything, makes her emotional. Going on dates is her favorite thing in the world. Whether it's a candlelit dinner, balcony seats at an opera, or just a walk in the park, if it's with you she will do anything

Blake Belladonna - Quality Time

Blake has a lot of trust issues due to constant hurt and betrayal, so it will take a LOT for her to open up to you. But the way into her heart is just to stick it out and never give up. Eventually Blake will understand your intentions and let you in. Although it seems like you're always the one to initiate, secretly Blake always finds a way to "coincidentally" end up at the same place at the same time as you. Kinda like how cats pretend to not care but always follow you around

Yang Xiao Long - Quality Time

Yang has been abandoned multiple times, and it has taken a toll on her mentally. She is constantly worrying about when her loved ones will leave her, and that includes you. Spending time with her as much as possible will both quell her anxiety and make her heart race. As someone who knows how it feels to be abandoned, Yang wants to make sure you never feel that pain. She will never leave without letting you know, always promises to come back

Oscar Pine - Words of Affirmation

Due to his situation with Ozpin, Oscar has a lot of self doubt issues and problems with identity. His mind is always racing and it's never good thoughts. So having a partner that reassures him and comforts him is key. He appreciates every word you tell him, and sometimes writes them down in a notebook for when he gets really down

Penny Polendina - Physical Touch

Penny is still getting used to human interactions and relationships, so things may get a bit awkward. But although she struggles with most aspects, she excels in physical touch. Penny loves to feel your skin no matter the texture. It feels so unique to her! When she can't properly express herself or is lost for words, Penny will just quietly hold your hands and stare into your eyes

Jaune Arc - Words of Affirmation/Acts of Service

Jaune has been through a lot of pain the past few years, and needs a lot of healing mentally. Telling him you love him or complimenting him matter a whole lot to him. It boosts his self-esteem and makes him feel wanted and special. While he also returns the sentiment, Jaune prefers to do acts of service for his partner. He will happily give you a massage or do your laundry without prompt. And when it comes to defending you, Jaune is always on the front lines ready to die for you

Nora Valkyrie - Physical Touch

Nora is like Ruby, but amplified by x1000. She loves to cling to you like a koala and tease you. Although she has appreciation for chests, Nora is a butt fiend. She does not hesitate to slip in a slap or squeeze whenever she can, giving you a shit eating grin when you react. Nora also enjoys hugs a lot, and basically every hug she gives is a bone crushing bear hug (so get used to back pains). Sometimes though, when it's late and night and you both are tired, Nora will happily lean on your shoulder and fall asleep. A further way to make her melt is to gently trace your fingers along her Lichtenberg scars

Pyrrha Nikos - Words of Affirmation

Being such a well known figure, Pyrrha has problems making real connections with people. She always feels like people are trying to take advantage of her, but doesn't have the heart to object. But when it comes to you, whenever you compliment her or reassure her feelings, she knows it's genuine. Every word you speak fills her with warmth. And Pyrrha is always making sure to return the love and always talk to you and listen intently. This often leads to you two getting into compliment battles that always end in a stalemate

Lie Ren - Acts of Service

Being more introverted, Ren is kinda hot and cold with affection. He loves you with all his heart, but sometimes he just needs time alone, and you're happy to oblige! But when he's fully charged, Ren loves to do things for you. This mainly pertains to domestic skills like cooking and cleaning. He always makes sure to make you a delicious breakfast everyday with your favorite foods. And he does this with no expectation of reciprocation. He does this with all his loved ones, it's how he shows he cares. A lot of times he does it behind the scenes. Sometimes you'll come home to the trash taken out, your bed made, or a hole in your shirt sewn up in a heart shape (his favorite thing to do is leave cute love notes in your lunch bag)

Sun Wukong - Acts of Service

Sun is a himbo through and through, we all know this. He is incredibly open about his feelings and isn't afraid to show you how much he loves you. Doing things for you is his favorite thing to do to show his appreciation. No matter what it is, if you are looking for something Sun already has it. Car keys? Phone charger? Hot pocket? This man is READY. He tries to do other things like cook and clean for you, but uh... he ain't that good at it. He has definitely broken some lamps and started a couple kitchen fires. But Sun always means well and will happily do whatever he can to make you smile

Neptune Vasilias - Physical Touch

Although Neptune is known as a smooth talker, that's mainly for show with girls he meets for the first time. After actually getting into a relationship Neptune's true love language comes out. He really thrives on physical contact. It's great in general, but whenever he is anxious or scared it's even better. Neptune will instantly cling onto you and feel much better. But he is also known for being a bit possessive. Neptune is known for holding you by the hip when you walk, and proudly drapes his arm around your shoulders. He bagged a total masterpiece of a human, of course he's gonna show you off! PDA is a must and he always gives you little kisses throughout the day

Coco Adel - Gift Giving

As your local fashionista, Coco adores the finer things in life. And she feels like you deserve it all! She loves to gift you designer clothes, authentic jewelry, $1000 lobster dishes, fuck she once tried to buy you a puppy! It's gotten to the point where you have a whole room dedicated to her gifts. If you tell her to cool down a little she will, but will eventually get back into it. She doesn't understand why materialism is so looked down upon. Why shouldn't she and her partner enjoy expensive things?

Fox Alistair - Physical Touch

Despite his serious appearance, Fox is naturally very talkative (just ask his team) and always likes to joke and tease. And it's the same deal with his partner. Sometimes he kinda can't shut up. And although he tells you how much he a loves you a lot, the real way to show how he feels is touch. Fox is blind, and although he has an ADA device, he doesn't know how you look 100%. So he likes to just touch you all over, enjoying feeling your curves and edges and rolls. He likes it so much sometimes he will hold your face in his hands and just caress your cheeks for like 10 minutes

Velvet Scarlatina - Gift Giving

Velvet is naturally a bit more shy than the rest of her team, so when it comes to showing affection she gets very flustered. She isn't good with PDA and sometimes finds it hard to say what she feels. But Velvet is well versed in gift giving. She always pays attention to everything her partner says and makes note of all the things they desire. Pretty much all her gifts are perfectly tailored to you. She adores holidays and milestones, and always makes those days a whole ordeal with presents and date plans

Yatsuhashi Daichi - Acts of Service

Yatsuhashi is a very reserved person, and is not talkative, even with his loved ones. It's a mix of holding in his emotions and having self doubt about himself. So instead of saying what he feels, he prefers to use his actions instead. Yatsuhashi is very protective of his partner and does everything in his power to make them feel secure. He sees you as precious and never wants anything to happen to you. So he gladly does anything he deems too dangerous for you. Reaching things from high shelves, walking you across the street, this man would fight a damn bear for you. He isn't above just carrying you around either. You will always be safe and secure around Yatsuhashi

Neon Katt - Words of Affirmation

Jesus fucking CHRIST can she talk. You will never have a moment of peace while dating Neon, that's the unfortunate truth. But hey, that's what you signed up for. And it has it's perks! Neon never hesitates to gush about you and make you feel appreciated. She has definitely bragged about you in public, much to your embarrassment. She's just loves everything about you! (especially how hot you are) But don't be mistaken, everything you do is met with pure joy and admiration

Flynt Coal - Gift Giving

Flynt is a simple, suave man who knows he's smooth. He knows his voice makes you melt. But what he loves to do is give presents, especially unconventional ones. There are the standard flowers and chocolates, but Flynt really loves writing songs for you. Being able to express himself through music makes him feel whole. He puts all of his emotions into the sheet music, and every song is dedicated to you

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Ozpin - Quality Time

As the headmaster of Beacon, Ozpin doesn't have a lot of spare time. He's often busy and tied up in work. But also, his past as Ozma has made him live hundreds of years, and he's lost a lot of loved ones. He treasures time spent and wants to spend as much time as possible with the ones he loves. Whenever he is able, Ozpin will be with you as much as possible. Even if you are just existing in the same room, it's perfect for him

Glynda Goodwitch - Acts of Service

Glynda can be pretty abrasive, and a bit of a hard ass. But it really is from the toll of years at an academy of psychotic students. So honestly? Getting her a hot cup of tea or her favorite book when she comes home from work is one of life's greatest joys. Always being expected to fix any damage caused by her students, it's nice to have someone return the favor and give her a break. She'll always encourage you to sit down and join her, but definitely isn't complaining. To show appreciation she doesn't mind fixing stuff around the house in return, as it isn't expected of her. Now she can do it of her own will because she wants to. Keep pampering her and you will never have to call a handyman ever again

Bartholomew Oobleck - Words of Affirmation

You know how I said Neon can't stop talking? Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Oobleck is amazing, but he won't stop talking no matter what. Info dumping is one of his favorite things to do with you, especially if it has to do with interesting facts. He may be a motor mouth, but when he isn't spouting information, he is talking about you. Oobleck may seemed a bit scatterbrained, but he notices everything about you. He compliments you on the smallest things, often things you never notice. Oobleck likes everything about you and isn't afraid to let you know. He doesn't really have a filter when it comes to your relationship, so expect a lot of out of left field compliments

Peter Port - Acts of Service

This man is a MANLY MAN, and you will NOT FORGET THAT! He wants to prove to you that he is capable and worthy of your love, and he does that by doing things for you (whether you ask for it or not). He especially loves doing heavy work for you like moving furniture, chopping wood, and hauling away any Grimm that interupt your dates. Don't get it twisted though, it isn't that he thinks you are unable to take care of yourself or weak. He just naturally likes to show off and prove himself. And with you? Bruh he is always flexing to get your attention and make you blush (frankly though you tend to make him blush way more)

James Ironwood - Quality Time

Similar to Ozpin, Ironwood doesn't get a lot of free time to himself. Being a major general is hard work and tends to leave him drained. He knows he isn't around often and feels bad. So to make up for it, when you do have time together, he is 100% focused on you and you only. Ironwood wants you to know that he never forgets you when he's working. You're always in his mind 24/7. Sometimes when he has to stay super late, you like to surprise him by showing up at his office. His heart instantly starts beating faster, and he will wave you over for a long hug (and sit you on his lap if he's feeling super affectionate)

Winter Schnee - Acts of Service

As with Weiss, Winter has been severely damaged by her family. And her time in the military has only made more walls around her heart. Hell, it took forever for her to come to terms with her feelings for you. Winter is not good at expressing herself directly, so she likes to indirectly show her love by doing things for you. Anything you ask of her she will do with no hesitation. It's kind of her military training kicking in, it's pretty much ingrained into her. But it definitely isn't cause she feels obligated to, Winter cares about you and wants you to follow your "orders". She often denies it whenever you offer to do things for her. But if you do it anyways, she'll scold you... before giving you an awkward kiss and hug

Summer Rose - Quality Time

Summer is known to go off on her own quite a bit. She doesn't often explain why, but always makes sure to let you know she is coming back. And when she comes back she is spending the rest of the day with you. She loves to just sit around with you and talk about anything and everything. When she isn't going on missions, Summer tends to follow you around happily

Taiyang Xiao Long - Words of Affirmation

Taiyang has been through some heartbreak, so some uplifting words mean a lot to him. No matter what issues he is faced with, a good conversation with you will always lift his spirits. And this applies to even just casual small talk. He just likes talking to you, I mean it's as simple as that! And he always knows how to repay your kindness by being your number one fan. No matter what you're doing, Yaiyang is cheering you on from the sidelines!

Raven Branwen - Acts of Service

Raven is kinda... yeah. There are a lot of words to describe her, and most are negative. But one thing she excels at is using her actions. She may seem to not be around often, but usually she is behind the scenes doing small things for you. Raven uses her portals to keep an eye on you wherever you go, and makes sure you are safe and healthy. She keeps away any shady people, leaves you your favorite foods on your nightstand, kills any threatening Grimm, even adjusts your blanket while you sleep. It may seem like she doesn't care much for you, but whenever you notice your weapon polished, you know she does

Qrow Branwen - Physical Touch

Qrow is starved for attention in multiple ways, but mostly in physical touch. He was originally very flirtatious, but after all the shit he's gone through, he is definitely more subdued and anxious. While dating him, you can often find him questioning if he deserves you, and whether you will get hurt by his semblance. Words have a hard time getting to him, so the best way to calm him is to just... touch him. Hold him, stroke his face, play with his hair, cuddle him, anything. All of his worries wash away as he melts into your touch, and he becomes the most vulnerable man in the world. And whenever you seem down or upset, he instantly pulls you into a hug and rubs your back. Just... just hold this man okay? He deserves the world and all the kisses

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Well hello, here is my first post on this blog! I thought a good place to start would be Love Languages. A part 2 is coming out featuring allies (like the ace ops) and antagonists!

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viking-raider · 2 months

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LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT > PART THREE

Summary-> Alexa and Henry leave their villa to explore the beauty of Costa Rica, with an unblinking eye trailing behind them.

Pairing-> Henry Cavill/OFC (Alexa)

Word Count-> 5.7k

Parts-> I II

Warnings-> PG: Arranged Marriage, Language, Banter, Anxiety

Inspiration-> Nick and Vanessa Lachey’s Love is Blind on Netflix.

Author’s Note-> I hope you enjoy! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

-> If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST as well as my @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’ Ao3-> Dragon_Dweller

– The Hike –

Alexa pulled her loose cotton, deep arm-hole tank top over her bikini, while Henry packed a day bag for them to take on their hike.

“Right, we're all packed.” He smiled, coming to stand in the bathroom doorway. “Figured we could stop in town for some lunch items, and if we need anything else before we head to the start of the trail.” He informed her, watching her tug on a pair of short, board shorts with a print pattern on each hip, over her bikini bottoms.

“I love the sound of that. We can also browse the local life.” Alexa smiled, a tingle in her stomach knowing Henry was distracted by seeing so much of her body.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Great.” She nodded, patting him on the chest as she breezed by him, into the bedroom; mentally reminding herself not to look at the camera that was there filming the whole thing.

With their little hiking bag packed and a rental car for them waiting in the drive, Henry and Alexa loaded up. Jesse followed them from a car in the back, having mounted a couple cameras in ideal places on the rental car to film them.

“Wow, this place is so gorgeous.” Henry commented, looking out the window as he drove them into town.

“Just wait until we hit the trails.” Alexa smiled, lounging back in the passenger seat. “It's a whole other world. It feels like you've been lost in some 18th Century adventure book; deep in the forest as you look for the coveted and cured gold of an ancient God, that the natives warn you not to go near.”

Henry looked over at her, smirking. “Bookworm?” He chuckled, teasingly.

“The word is, Bibliophile.” She corrected him, with feigned offense. “Thank you very much.”

“Oh, my apologies, Bibliophile.” He laughed, amused. “But, I can see it, this place does give you an enchanted feeling.” He sighed, as the town of Tamarindo came into view.

Tamarindo bustled with life, an assortment of shops, brightly colored and close together, showed their wares in windows, balconies and sidewalks. Signs announcing what each shop and pop-up cart was selling to whomever stopped by to look, from fellow tourists to locals.

Henry found a place to park and got out with Alexa, the both of them casting their eyes around, taking everything in and trying to pinpoint the place, or places, that would help them achieve their goal for a picnic on their hike.

“Something smells amazing.” Alexa commented, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

“Could be anything.” Henry chuckled, noting the several street vendors and restaurants.

“I need it.” Alexa said softly, her blue eyes slightly out of focus.

Henry looked down at her, cocking a brow at the almost manic look she had on her face. “Do you?” He asked, a soft smirk tugging up one corner of his lip.

“Yes.” She nodded, looking up at him with an eye twitch.

“You little gremlin.” Henry laughed, his whole body vibrating with its mirth.

“You best get used to it, Bowser.” She giggled back, before skipping forward in search of what she smelled.

Henry watched her skip off, his head cocked to the side as she paused at a stall with trinkets displayed on it, giving the woman running it a sweet smile as she did. He felt the embers of passion for her heat up even more, forming a teeny flame that Henry couldn't deny was the start of him really falling for her. Recalling himself, as Alexa looked back to see where he was, Henry moved to join her, nodding to the vendor.

“Hola, cómo estás?” She greeted him with a sweet smile.

“Hola, estoy bien.” Henry echoed with the limited amount of the language he knew, making her chuckle at his accented Spanish.

“These are so beautiful.” Alexa cooed, examining a black skirt with bright and colorful, intricate patterns along the bottom hem and inside. She looked up at the woman, holding up the hem for her to see. “You?” She asked, hoping the other woman understood what she was implying with her minimal knowledge of Spanish.

The woman smiled wide, understanding, and nodded with clear pride. “Sí.”

“How much?” She asked, brows raised.

“Treinta colón.” She answered, signing three and zero with her fingers in emphasis.

Nodding, Alexa dug into the little bag she had resting on her hip, retrieving the colónes that Riah had supplied her and Henry before leaving the house, supplying the woman the right amount of money for the skirt she had handmade herself. Taking the curled notes from Alexa's hand, she stashed them away in a locked box somewhere behind her stall, before motioning to Alexa to pick one of the skirts. Alexa peeked through them, admiring her craft and amazing needlework with the fabric. None of it lacked color and all of the patterns were unique in their own right, fascinating and awing her.

“What do you think?” Alexa asked, looking up at Henry for his opinion between the two skirts she was conflicted on.

“Hm.” He hummed, looking between them with a cocked brow. “They're both very beautiful.” He commented, reaching out to touch the cotton fabric. “Personally,” He said, finally. “I like this one. It's super colorful and seems like it would be...light and free. It makes me think of you.”

Alexa blushed, biting the inside of her lip at his comment, as she looked up at him, before looking down at the skirt he was referencing. It was red with a kaleidoscope of circular patterns, and blue top and bottom hems. Smiling, she picked that one out of the bunch, motioning to the woman that she had made her choice, and she nodded her understanding. Alexa and Henry moved on, observing the other stalls that lined the street and peeked in the windows of the shops, before they finally found the local grocery store and popped inside.

Grabbing one of little metal baskets, Henry and Alexa browsed the modest aisles, plucking up a couple things that caught their eye for their picnic. Something else grabbed Henry's attention as they reached the back of the store.

“Hey, I'll just be one second.” He said, resting his hand on the small of her back. “I'll meet you at the register.”

“Okay.” Alexa nodded, holding his gaze for a moment, before continuing on, grabbing a couple more things off the shelf, before she headed to pay for everything, tossing a glance over her shoulder to look for Henry, but only found Jesse following her instead.

But Henry appeared as she bagged their items, offering her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I just wanted to check something out.” He told her, grabbing a few items and helping her put them in the plastic bag. “I'm looking forward to this hike with you.” He admitted, taking the bag and heading out with her. “Part of me wishes this was happening around the time the Durrell Challenge occurs.”

“When does that happen?” Alexa asked, curiously.

“It happened in May.” He told her, holding an arm out to stop her from crossing, as a car appeared up the street. “So, we missed it.”

“There's always next time.” She replied, watching the car go by. “Not like we won't be together.”

Henry looked down at her, struck. “That's more than true.” He answered softly, crossing and following her along the street, observing the shops as they made their way back to their vehicle. “So, wife, where is our trail?” He asked, reaching into the back, for the pack he had their stuff in and tucked their lunch inside.

“Right here.” Alexa answered, leaning over the center console to show Henry the map of the trail head. “It's part of the Rincon de la Vieja Volcano National Park.”

“Looks beautiful.” He commented, getting the address for the trail head and situating his phone on the dash mount. “So, our first day as husband and wife!” He grinned, navigating the road that ran parallel to the coast on one side.

“Yeah.” Alexa giggled, taking a photo of the gorgeous white sand and glittering, azure water. “How's it feeling?” She asked, shifting her camera's view to snap a shot of Henry, catching him off guard.

“It feels good.” Henry replied, giving her a shy and boy-ish expression. “It was a bit strange waking up to another person, and not either alone or to Kal snoring in my face.”

A laugh bubbled out of Alexa, her body scrunching up. “No, you just had me snoring in your face this morning.”

“Well worth the morning breath!” Henry chuckled back, teasing, watching the coast fall away the more inland they got.

“I don't have morning breath!” Alexa gasped, shoving him in the shoulder.

“Are you sure about that?” He smirked impishly, cocking a side brow over at her.

Alexa gasped again in outrage, mouth ajar. “Uh! How dare you accuse me of such things! I'll glue the toilet lid down from now on!”

“That's fine.” Henry replied, his smirking shifting into something even more devilish. “I have great aim.”

Alexa's cheeks colored, understanding his suggestion. “Naughty!” She cooed, batting her eyes at him, before glancing quickly over at the recording camera on the dash.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot!” Alexa nodded, twisting sideways to look at him.

“Do you have any nicknames you do or don't like going by?” Henry inquired, rubbing his palms over the steering wheel. “I don't mind being called Hen, Henners or Hank, but I loathe being called Harry.”

“Who calls you that!” She asked, outraged at the notion of someone calling him by that name, eyes twitching.

“I had a teacher at boarding school that did and sometimes, one of my uncles would.” He explained, shaking his head. “No matter how many times I told them I hated it and asked them not to.”

“I don't blame you! You don't have a Harry aura about you. Hen, yes. Hank yeah. But-” She took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Good grief. As for me, most of the people in my social circle call me, Alex or Lexi, which I'm totally cool with. There are people that call me, Lex, which I'm not really here nor there about. However, I don't like being called, Allie, it makes me think of alleyways, or one of my roadies desperately tried to make a thing of calling me, Lexus.”

She met Henry's eye. “I'm not a car.”

Henry snorted, laughing softly. “A car, you are not.” He agreed, smiling. “So, Alex, Lex or Lexi are cool to call you.”

“Yep.” Alexa nodded, liking the sound of her name rolling off his tongue, as she noticed the sign announcing the turn off for the National park just around the bend. “Almost there!” She declared, rather excited to go exploring and hiking on the trails with Henry. “This place is so beautiful.” She commented, as they got out of the car, the warmth of the beach was replaced by the cool, but humid, air of the forest around them.

“Yeah, it is.” Henry agreed, clipping their bag secure across his chest.

But not as beautiful as you. He thought, fleetingly.

“Are you going to be able to hike this, carrying that camera?” Henry asked Jesse, who was getting his own gear set up. “According to that park sign, the trail is seven kilometers in length. One way.” He informed the cameraman, concerned for his well-being as much as he was Alexa and his own.

“I'll be fine, bud.” Jesse replied, shouldering a bag that rattled with various filming equipment and a couple of things he brought for the hike, water bottle, food, bug spray and so on. “I've done wildlife documentaries in Antarctica. I'm sure a four mile hike around the volcano will be cake.”

“Making sure.” Henry said, before turning to Alexa, who was patiently waiting at the trailhead. “You ready, short-stuff?” He asked with a smile.

Alexa snorted and rolled her eyes. “More ready than you are, Bones.” She answered, then held up a trail guide pamphlet. “I scanned the QR code they have on the back, but just in case our mobile service goes nutty, I thought we'd bring the booklet with us too.”

“Sound idea, love.” He nodded, gave the trail ahead a look over.

She leaned in close to Henry, before whispering loudly. “If there's any spiders, I'm leaving Jesse to get eaten first.”

“I heard that!” Jesse barked behind them.

Alexa flashed him a sweet smile, then took the first step onto the trail. One small step on our hike, one giant step into the rest of our life. She thought, continuing with the assurance that Henry was right behind her.

“A bridge!” Henry announced as he rounded a bend in the trail, coming upon a rope bridge, just wide enough for one person to cross at a time, single file. “You think it's sturdy?”

“It looks like it.” Alexa answered, looking around Henry's arm. “I'm sure they wouldn't have it accessible if it was dangerous. Unless they have a thing for making their visitors feel like they're having an Indiana Jones experience.” She commented, half-jokingly.

“Fair enough, you go ahead first.” He said, stepping sideways on the trail.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you, to let me plummet to the river below first.” Alexa quipped, moving by him, only to have Henry catch her wrist, his expression stony.

“Don't say that.” He snapped, his eyes glassy with horror.

Alexa's stomach churned at his expression, leaving her speechless for a moment, before she caught Jesse moving closer to them out of the corner of her eye and she scrambled to pull herself together again. “I was just kidding, Henry. I'm sorry.” She squeaked, gulping thickly as she pried his fingers from around her wrist and stepped onto the bridge.

That was so stupid! Why did I say that to him! She berated herself. Riah's going to juice her panties when she finds out. With how good it'll look, when the show airs. Stupid me creating an angst-y fuss, like some teenage drama.

The bridge wobbled a little bit as the three of them moved across the weathered slates at a steady pace, Alexa gripping the rope sides and daring to take a glance over the side, before quietly squeaking at the steep distance to the valley bottom and shooting her eyes forward, not looking down again. Henry's own eyes were on the back of Alexa's head, the whole time they crossed, taking slow, deep breaths and pretending the bridge wasn't as high off the ground as it actually was. In an attempt to control his fear of heights.

“Right, so!” Alexa sighed, after their feet touched solid ground again. “According to the app, the hot spring is this way and it's just before the waterfall.” She said, tracing the red line on the screen of her phone with her fingertip. “Do you want to see the waterfall first or do you want to hit the spring?” She asked, looking up at Henry, who craned his head over her shoulder to see the map, his hand gently resting on her side.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyeing the outlined trail, before looking up ahead of them. “Why don't we hit the waterfall first and have lunch there, so we can have a nice dip in the spring before we leave?” He suggested, looking back to Alexa. “That way we can have a nice rest period.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Alexa nodded, pocketing the device and hooking her arm with his. “It's so gorgeous here.” She said, looking at the tall canopies above their heads, her ears picking up the sounds of the forest surrounding them. The call of birds, frogs croaking deep in their throats and insects buzzing in the humid air, with the occasional howl of a monkey deep and far off the beaten trail.

“It really is.” Henry agreed, drawing in a deep breath of the fresh, fragrant and cool air.

They pointed out sights to each other, plants and animals. Alexa became excited at one point, thinking she saw a little squirrel monkey, before it vanished in the trees. They snapped a couple of photos over the hour and a half it took them to go from the head of the trail to the rushing waterfall at the end.

“Oh my—Odin.” Alexa gasped softly, standing on a large, flat river rock as she gazed up at the fifty foot waterfall, the spraying mist at the top glittering in the sunlight, casting a rainbow-like halo at its drop off point. “I've never seen anything quite so magical.” She mumbled to herself, following the water into a basin of crystal clear water, surrounded by rough cliff walls covered in creeping vines and moss, slick algae and small trees that somehow managed to take root and grow out of cracks.

There were a couple of people around the edge of the pool, resting on rocks or clear, flat spots of the ground, with several others swimming in the water itself. Both Alexa and Henry looked at each other, then tossed at glance at Jesse, who hadn't stopped filming once, knowing they would attract attention the moment they got close. So, they moved around to the far side of the waterfall, where there were no people and found a decent spot to sit down and relax.

Henry set his pack down in front of him, unhooking his water bottle from the loop on the strap, while Alexa sipped at her own water, staring out over the pool with a whimsical and thoughtful expression.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, before taking a big gulp of his icy water.

“Hm?” Alexa hummed back, blinking and turning her attention to him.

Henry chuckled at her. “What are you thinking about?” He repeated himself, unzipping the main compartment of the bag.

“I'm wondering how cool that water must be.” She confessed, her face giving away her interest in going for a dip.

“Hmm.” He purred back, narrowing his eyes at the water and considering the sweat running down his back, causing his tank top to stick to his skin as well as his curls to his forehead. “That's a good question.” He replied, closing the backpack and reaching for the back of his tank, pulling it off over his head and dropping it on the bag, before standing.

“Let's go find out.”

Alexa grinned, taking off her top and stood to wiggle out of her shorts, kicking them over to their bag as Henry's arm hooked around her waist. “Henry!” She cried out with laughter, breaking out into a massive grin as he carried her over to the water.

“You can go in with your insulin stuff, right?” He asked, as the water reached his calves.

“Yeah.” She assured him, squirming and wrapping her arms around his neck. “All water-proof.”

“Perfect.” Henry smirked devilishly, shifting his hands to Alexa's hips, hoisted her up and launched her into the deep end of the water.

Alexa gasped as she splashed into the water, disappearing under for a moment, before she pushed off the bottom and broke the surface again. “That's unfair!” She huffed, splashing Henry in the face as he moved towards her.

“Absolutely.” He nodded, carding his fingers through his dripping hair, pushing his curls off his forehead.

The two of them looked up at a cry that echoed down to them, finding a group of guys that had climbed to the top of the cliff by the waterfall, screaming their heads off and throwing their arms up, showing off to their group that had stayed down below, and who were returning their rowdiness. Alexa chuckled and looked at Henry, hooking an arm around his neck to support herself in the water and be close to him.

“Those guys are wild.” Henry commented, watching one of them take a running jump off the edge, feeling his stomach lurch as the guy plummeted and splashed into the water, heart clenching for a moment, waiting for him to resurface safely.

“And probably drunk.” Alexa giggled, gently pressing her lips to Henry's collarbone, as she held herself against his chiseled torso, feeling his palms squeeze and massage her hips. “If you try tossing me again, I will bite you.” She whispered against his skin.

Henry glanced down at her, cocking a brow with interest. “Is that a promise or a threat?” He asked, his own lips brushing the top of her head. “Cause, I'll gladly find out.” He said, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest.

Fuck, I hope I'm not being too forward with her.

“Oh, you like that kind of thing?” Alexa teased him, smirking. “Superman likes getting nibbled on?”

His body reacted to her flirting, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly, and his blue eyes laser focused on her face. “I just might.” He purred, voice deepening as he leaned his head in close.

“Mmm.” Alexa hummed back at him, a sparkle in her eye while meeting him, feeling her heart skip a beat, knowing he was going to kiss her again. But she caught sight of Jesse wading into the shallows of the pool, camera poised on his shoulder and a soft smirk on his face, clearly understanding the moment. “You know what?” Alexa gasped, pulling away from Henry and treading in the water to keep herself up.

“I want to jump off too.” She told him, an impish smirk crossing her lips.

“Oh?” Henry frowned, confused by the mood change and sudden disconnect from her. “Is that safe?”

Alexa chuckled, splashing him. “They did it!” She called over her shoulder, swimming away to get out of the water and head up the small trail that led up to the top of the cliff.

She's crazy. Henry thought, debating if he should follow her up, to make sure she didn't get hurt on the way to the top and perhaps try and stop her or to just watch her jump from his spot in the water. She'll be fine. He tried to reassure himself, keeping his eyes fixed on the spot the group of men had been, when they jumped.

His heart calmed down slightly, seeing her pale head pop up among the lush greenery at the top of the waterfall, gazing down into the water below and waving at him with a huge smile. Henry smiled and waved back, hoping he didn't look too horrified for her well-being. Alexa surveyed the landscape from her vantage point and wished she had brought her phone up to snap a couple of photos, before jumping.

Taking a deep breath and taking a couple steps back, before taking a running leap off the edge, plummeting feet first into the water. Henry swam over, meeting her halfway back to where they had been.

“That was wild!” She giggled at him. “You should try it.”

“I don't know.” Henry chuckled, looking up at the spot. “It's pretty high.”

“I'll go with you!” Alexa said, trying to embolden him. “We could jump together!”

Henry bit his lip, then shook his head, flicking droplets of water from the ends of his curls. “Nope.” He declined, pressing his lips together. “No can do, darling.”

“Aww.” She cooed, before clicking her tongue at him. “All right. Fair enough, Sötnos.” She smiled, her eyes gentle and understanding.

“Sötnos?” Henry echoed, causing Alexa to giggle at his pronunciation of the word.

“Swat-noss.” She pronounced the word for him, slowly. “Sötnos.”

“What does it mean?” He asked, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his mind around it.

Alexa giggled, resting her hands on his shoulders. “It means a couple things.” She smirked, amused at the pet name, as she pressed herself against him, making him feel their size difference as they floated in the water. “Sweetheart. Sweet cheeks.” She explained to him, chuckling. “But the direct translation is, sweet nose.”

“You think I got a sweet nose?” Henry teased, leaning in to rub noses with her, making Alexa giggle even more. “I like it.” He told her, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Would you teach me more?”

“Ja, of course.” She nodded, touched and excited that he wanted to learn more of her language and background. “You're going to need it, min mannen.”

“Great.” He smiled, before noticing the slight shake in her hands. “Are you all right?” He asked, taking one of them in his, pressing it between his palm and chest to seep some warmth into it. “Are you cold?” He inquired, the water was cool, but not chilly.

“No.” Alexa replied, shaking her head. “I'm just getting the shakes from my sugar starting to dip a little bit. I need to get out and eat.” She explained to him, her brow pinching as it hit her all at once.

“Let's go then.” Henry urged, wrapping an arm around her waist and guided them out of the water, back to where their pack and clothing was. “Here's water, I'll get our lunch out.” He said, opening her water bottle for her, before opening their backpack and started pulling out all the food.

Sipping her water, Alexa caught sight of something, as it fell out of the pack in Henry's rush to get their lunch ready, and reached for it. Picking up a short, plastic wrapped tube, the words printed on it were all in Spanish, but she had seen this type of container enough times in her life to know what it was.

“Did you buy glucose tablets?” She asked, looking up at Henry with a crease between her brows, holding them up for him to see.

Henry paused and looked at the tablets, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Ye-ah.” He answered, slowly gulping. “I-” He floundered to vocalize why his brain had told him it was a good idea to head towards the chemist aisle he'd seen at the store in town, to buy the capsule of ten, Raspberry flavored, glucose tablets.

What if you needed them, while we're on our hike or on the drive back to our Villa? He thought, still struggling to voice his fear that her blood sugar would drop to an unsafe level. What if they were the only thing that kept you from-- Henry forcefully shook the last thought out of his head, refusing to manifest it.

“I just—I just thought-” He took a deep, hard breath and looked back down at his task. “I don't know what I thought.” He mumbled under his breath. “It was stupid.”

Alexa's face fell at his words, closing her fist around the tablets, wanting to say something to him about how thoughtful it really was, but couldn't find the words. “What do we have for lunch!” She said instead, changing the subject for both of them.

Henry set out their wrapped sandwiches, along with the little containers of fresh fruit, slices of mango, watermelon and oranges, as well as a small cluster of grapes. They sipped their water and nibbled on their food, Alexa gazing around the forest that surrounded them, fascinated by the towering and knotted trees among the lush green plants, the sound of the waterfall behind them was so soothing and peaceful. She sighed softly, reaching out for another piece of fruit, her hand coming into contact with Henry's, as he did the same.

Their eyes met and Alexa felt Henry's fingers caress and trace her hand, like the touch from a ghost. It made her skin tingle and the breath in her throat caught. She didn't understand. They'd known each other for less than forty-eight hours and when Henry touched her, it was like nothing she'd felt before. Not with the boyfriend she'd been with for five years or a couple of attempted dates she'd been on since breaking up with said ex-boyfriend.

What is it about him? She thought, turning her palm up to his touch, her shoulders shuddering faintly as he stroked his fingertips over the heel of her palm to her fingertips. Why does his touch light my nerve-endings on fire and send sparks into my mind? What magic is he casting over me? Alexa reflected, swimming in the azure ocean of his eyes and trying to reach the tawny island at the top.

Henry in-turn was lost in her gaze, a gentle smile twitching and curling up one corner of his lip as he drove ever deeper into the arctic landscape he found there, mapping out the small flakes of minty-green that was close to her pupils. He was besotted with her, and it only dragged him down deeper as the seconds ticked past them. Henry had no answer to it either. Though, he was sometimes prone to falling in love quickly, and that sudden realization stabbed him in the stomach, like a red-hot knife.

Am I falling too quickly? Is this just a sudden flame, that'll burn out in a week or by the time our honeymoon is over?

His fingers faltered against her skin and Alexa noticed, a wrinkle forming between her brows as she watched the bright light in Henry's eyes fade and his expression panic, pulling his hand away from her.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, waving to the food they'd intersected at. “Go ahead.” He said, patiently waiting for her to take what she was reaching for, before grabbing his.

“Henry--” Alexa started, wanting to know if she'd done something wrong.

“Do you still want to go to the hot spring?” He asked over her, clearing his throat, knowing how rude of him it was, but couldn't bear her asking him what she intended to. “I know we went swimming here.” He said, waving to the waterfall behind them.

Alexa licked her lips and glanced at the rushing water for a second. “I would still at least like to see it.” She replied, biting her lip. “If that's all right with you?” She added, looking at him with a conflicted expression.

“That's more than all right.” He answered, popping a grape into his mouth. “I'd like to see it as well.” He confessed, offering her a half-hearted smile, hoping to bring some peace back into their outing.

“Cool.” She rasped, picking up her shorts and stood up, pulling them over her damp bikini bottoms, not bothering with her tank top, and instead stuffed it into their bag. “I'm ready, when you are.” She told him, looking at her Dexcom app, making sure her levels were in an appropriate range.

“I'm ready.” Henry replied, packing what was left of their food away and stood with her, shouldering the bag and glancing at her phone. “Is that a good level?” He asked, looking at her.

“It's a hundred and fifty, now that I've eaten.” Alexa explained, turning the screen towards him. “So, that's a pretty decent range. Especially for me.” She said, before pointing to a number beside it. “It was a hundred and ten, before I ate, which is middle to low-ish side, before a meal. But, I'm perfectly fine now. So we can head to the hot spring and likely make it back to the Villa, before I need to eat again.” She told him, closing the app and pulling up the map to the hot spring from where they were.

“So, we need to get back on the trail we arrived here on, for a short while, until we reach that fork and turn left.” She showed him their route and Henry nodded, motioning for her to lead the way.

Alexa glanced behind her to Jesse, who frowned at her, clearly annoyed she kept staring into the camera lens, before moving forward. Henry took a deep breath, glancing above them as he reached out to hook his arm around Alexa's shoulders, pulling her a little into his side as they retraced their steps over the trail.

They reached the turn, branching out in the three different directions and headed towards the hot spring, and the closer they came to it, the more they could hear the rush of the thermal waters.

Coming through a thicket of trees and brush into the clearing, they discovered the steaming, volcanic-formed pool. Not quite so populated as the pool at the foot of the waterfall, but was still dotted with people. Some stood waist deep in the warm waters, while others sat on the rocks that surrounded it, their feet dipped in, admiring the multiple, little volcanic rock waterfalls that supplied the water for the spring.

“This place is so gorgeous.” Alexa commented, as she and Henry found a spot to sit and slip their feet into the heavenly warm water, with a soft moan.

“It truly is.” Henry agreed, slowly gliding his feet through the water and watching it gurgle down one of the falls.

Alexa gasped suddenly, grasping Henry by the arm and grew animated. “Henry!” She insisted, blue eyes round with wonder and surprise as she pointed into the tree tops across the spring, just as a sound filled the steamy air, like a high-pitched, song-bird-like call. “It's a Toucan.” She grinned at him, giddy for spotting the yellow-throated toucan.

“Oh wow, it is!” Henry nodded, narrowing his eyes at the small, long billed bird of paradise.

“When I was little, I wanted one as a pet, after seeing George of the Jungle with Brendan Fraser, cause Tookie-Tookie was my favorite.” She confessed, taking her phone out to snap a photo of it. “Other than Shep the elephant.”

Henry smirked at her, touched that she shared that teeny bit of information and memory with him, and was amused by it. “Is that so?” He asked, his eyes going back to the little black and yellow bird as it took flight off its branch.

“Yeah, I love animals.” Alexa nodded, a little deflated that the toucan flew off, before looking at the photos she'd taken of it. “I had considered becoming a Zoologist before becoming a musician.” She confessed, pressing her shoulder against his and lifting her phone again, its front camera open and showing her and Henry. “We haven't taken a single photo together.” She answered the startled and confused expression she saw on Henry's face through her phone.

“I'd like at least one photo with my husband, during our honeymoon.” She smirked at him. “If he'd indulge me?”

“Why would I not?” He cooed, his expression softening and posed with her to take the photo.

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