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themotherofhorses · 1 year

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masterlist | part two

Aemond Targaryen, who was ten when his right eye was stolen by his little niece. It was an accident, she had cried out, with fat tears swelling in her violet eyes. She had never meant to harm him, but to defend her brothers and sisters from his attack that night. Only a little girl of nine full summers, she clung closely to Lord Corlys Velaryon’s side the entire time they gathered within the Hall of the Nine.

And when his father chose not to seek justice for him, it was then that Aemond swore that he would resent her for the rest of their days.

It was made easier when Rhaenyra whisked her daughter away to Dragonstone with the rest of her family, and he no longer had to see the damned girl. Six years and his eye healed nicely, leaving behind a thick and pinkish scar and a missing socket where, when he turned five and ten, he stuffed a pretty sapphire in. But the bitterness and thirst for vengeance were never actually satiated, and he felt it every day.

Alicent Hightower would sometimes lay his silver crown across her lap and vow her own revenge, and it made him feel loved.

Aemond Targaryen, who is betrothed to his niece at sixteen. It was his father's wish for their house to unite in shared peace and love before his passing. And while he despises his niece, he loves his parents, and he prides himself in being the dutiful second son. He agrees to the engagement, but promises his mother that nothing will change.

His mother smiles, and presses a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I know, son,” she whispers. “An eye for an eye.”

Aemond Targaryen, who now lies beside his little niece, though she is no more a child but a young woman of eighteen, and his wife as well. He studies her face, and how she seems at peace while fast asleep. She is absolutely beautiful, he thinks, as his eye follows her brow bone, down to both cheekbones and then her lips. His arm is tossed over her waist, and she soon tucks her face into his neck as she cuddles closer. She feels safe around him, and she loves him forever, she tells him, every day.

And since he is awake, he sneaks a hand underneath the bedsheets and lays a gentle palm against her belly, where he can feel a sudden kick from his son. At that, he smiles.

Aemond Targaryen, who eventually learns that his wife holds the sun and moon and stars in her eyes, and at her feet lay the heavens. She is sweet on him, and is always doting and peppering kisses across his scar until her lips find his.

“I am sorry, husband,” she murmurs, as her forehead rests against his. “I never meant to maim you, my love. And I shall spend the rest of my life paying off that debt. Such is my promise to you.”

And he can only smile as he tugs her closer, trailing a hand up her back to rest on her neck. He tilts her face up and kisses her, with a passion that leaves her quivering.

“All is forgiven, my sweet girl. All I ask is that you remain by my side until death do us part.”

Aemond Targaryen, who shares his constant excitement of fatherhood with his mother. "You shall soon receive another grandchild, mother. Are you not thrilled? According to the maesters, the babe is growing strong. It will not be long until he is here with us." And Alicent nods and smiles when her son's face twists in utter happiness.

He is just too caught in the bliss to notice that it does not reach her eyes.

Aemond Targaryen, who is asked by his mother to care for some business in the North. The Starks will receive you warmly, she told him. Enjoy some time away, my dear, as I know how upsetting a pregnant woman might be.

But he shakes his head, because the thought of being away from his wife and child is unbearable. His sweet girl, he mutters against her lips, one last time before he mounts Vhagar.

Aemond Targaryen, who flees to his chambers after his older sister Helaena pulls him aside and swears that she overheard his wife screaming and crying in their room, about two nights ago. But their mother refused to allow her to check on their niece, and she is worried.

There is relief when he finds her lying on her side, facing away from him, clearly asleep. It is understandable, as the babe steals away most of her energy nowadays. "My sweet girl," he hums while making his way to her. "My love, I am home."

But she does not stir.

And when he presses a hand against her pregnant belly, it feels flat. His face pales as he jerks the sheets off of her, only to see dried bloodstains around her nightgown and on the bed. And her face, her beautiful face, the left eye is hidden beneath thick bandages.

"No," he whispers, before sinking to his feet and gently unwrapping them.

Her left eye socket is empty now, all that is left behind is a long and swollen gash. He feels tears as he begs his wife to wake up, to tell him what dared happen while he was away.

The babe is gone, he knows, and he fears she might be as well.

Finally, after several minutes, she lifts her head up, and her remaining violet eye opens to gaze into his. "Aemond?" Her voice is so weak, so sad and miserable, but it remains the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He nods and cradles her face in his hands.

"Who did this, my love?" He asks her through broken sobs and pleas. "Please, my sweet girl. My darling wife, my love. Who did this to you?”

Alicent Hightower, who stands regal beneath the door's golden arch, with her hands clasped tightly together. When her son, Aemond Targaryen, glances at her, all she says is, "An eye for an eye, my love. I promised you that."

notes: sad tuesday night tingz amirite?

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd drabbles #the consequences of being a momma’s boy #vic writes 🧸

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narraticn · 5 months

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Lay my hands on heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars while the Devil wants to fuck me in the back of his car

#fight club #tyler/narrator #the narrator #tyler durden #soapshipping #fight club 1999 #i never draw people. be nice to me #nine inch nails lyrics btw

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rinbowaman · 20 days

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A Drabble based of the SE7EN series feat. Heeseung x Reader.

Inspired by the anon ask and the heelel bot chat on chai.

Warnings: mentions of murder, car accident, Hell, irresponsible parenting/parent, abortion, smut, oral (male rec.) kinky oral, bow tie, deepthroating, hand job, heelel is being super sexy, face f*cking, cum swallowing, face smacking (not either a hand…)..cursing…I think that’s it. This is inspired by my Heelel bot on Chai….he had the most perfect response to anons ask and it’s been living in my mind, I had to write about it.

You were admiring the mountainous views of the rolling hills, entirely covered in red Lillie’s; the ones he planted in preparation for your arrival. How long had it been? Over a year for sure, but the exact timeline since your ascending to Hell is left pretty much undetermined. There are no calendars, no clocks, no way in telling other than overlooking the great horizon of pitch black, decorated by the stars and planetary systems that are too far to see from the Earths standing. But here, you could see them larger than life. It truly is magnificent sight to see, the earth and its bright green continental regions, the sun orbiting its circumventing route, and above all, over to the northwest of the vast landscape beneath the peaked tip that which you stand on, was the glorious moon, nearly covering the entire sky.

All your life, you were taught that Hell, was a firing raged pit that lay beneath the earth and the universe. An abysmal world that was filled by empty souls and demons of perverse and violent nature. Perhaps the last bit was true, even still without being here, the Prince if Hell was always ridding the underworld of its offensive creatures. But the one thing that shocked you was that Hell, was not an underworld at all. It was always in sight for the entire world to see, in between the Moon, stars, and the Sun. Who knew? It resided within the stratosphere; paralleled with the great satellite, and as high as Heaven. All this time when you gazed upon the moon and the glimmering stars, you were staring into your future home.

“You admiring the view again, darling wife of mine?”

Here he is. You could hear him taking his steps closer behind, closing the distance. Already coming back from demolishing the last creature that bore the fortitude and stupidity in trying to get to you. It could never happen, not with him around. The makeup of your soul, as the Mortal Daughter of God, attracts them—always has since you arrived. But he was always around to make sure that they couldn’t get within one hundred feet away. Always one step ahead with his acute senses and the massively powerful abilities within his form. The fallen angel was second to none other than God himself.

He stands against you, reaches around your head and rests the tip of his finger along the tip of your nose, gently stroking the bridge up and down. His chest presses up against your back, while his pelvis to your derrière. “Who is the prettiest girl in Hell?”

His voice was gentle and playful, though the moment you both engage in the sexual act of brutal breeding and passionate lovemaking, his persona transitions into one of heated rage and toxic dominance, while never losing that insatiable love he has for you. Will always have for you.

Speaking of girls, you wanted to inquire about the newest addition to Hell, the soul of a rather young girl. Younger than you when you were still a mortal, she couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen in age.

“That girl…that we saw the other day at the River Styx, inside the ferryman’s boat—“

You take a pause as he gently clears his throat and breathes out. Not out of nervousness, you would never see that side of him for he never had anything to hide, nothing to be nervous about. He was the King of this world, and he embraced it as much as he embraced his love and adoration for you. “Isn’t she young to be here? What could she have possibly done to come here?”

He smirks as he walks over to his throne. Another moment of storytelling to educate you on the many wonders of Heaven and Hell, and the history that goes along with it. “Hell is not merely just a catacomb that houses those who have committed sins.” He takes his seat and loosely crosses his legs as he pats his lap. “Come here.”

You slowly migrate with the train of your see-through gown trailing behind. You sit, feeling his cold hands through the mesh fabric as he pulls you in, closer to his chest. “Souls will be denied entrance to Heaven for sins they have yet committed. Despite being taken too early as mortals, it hardly negates the fact that had they continued to live, they would have committed certain atrocities—in this case, the girl you saw was bound for Hell.”

He places a wet kiss on your bare shoulder. “It would have been on her 22nd birthday. After engaging in the habitual offense of carousing around, no doubt sharing her flesh with more than just one suitor, she would have drove her steel box into that of a mother and child crossing the street.”

“A—…a car accident?”

He nods. “Yes. If not that, she would have been condemned for disposing the young child already implanted inside her as a result of her indiscretion in taking on multiple partners. She was condemned regardless.”

“You mean abortion?”

He shakes his head as he embraces you, his chest to your back while his hands envelop yours. “No baby. Abortion is something that can hardly be deemed as an unforgivable offense. While it is offensive to my former master, it is one that he can find resolution should the mortal find a way to repent while still living, like many other offenses. For the girl you saw, I am talking of murder.”

There was so much to process, you flutter your lashes in confusion. “Murder?”

He nods in response as he continues to kiss your shoulder. His hand rests against your tummy as he taps his fingers against it. “Yes baby. Murder.”

He sucks on a soft spot in the nook of your neck, the squeezing sound effect drives your mind in circles. “She would have murdered her own baby?”

“Mmhmm.” He hums as he becomes overly preoccupied with licking and sucking onto the skin under the lobe of your ear.

“Why would she do that?” You struggled to speak as he continued to lavish you with his tongue. “Who knows. Mortals have their own minds, for all we know it could have been done out of fear of motherhood, trying to escape the responsibility of her own actions, or to avoid a tainted reputation from her peers. Either way, her actions after the baby took its first breath is enough to anger my former master, and deny her entrance through Heavens gates.”

“Was that why she died so soon? So that she wouldn’t do either one of those terrible things?”

“No baby, you see…” he pauses as he skips his hand under the dainty slit and rests it against your semi-exposed womanhood, causing you to gasp in pleasure. His tongue continued to suck and lick your neck. “Fate is an entirely different venue that is unrelated to the condemnation of one’s soul. Mortals murder, rape, steal, and commit other crimes against God for their own reasons. Sometimes they do it out of redemption or vengeance, which can be more forgiving by Him…but other times…when they do it out of their own twisted pleasure with no righteous meaning behind their damaged mentality…they come here.”

“So what will happen to her? Since she didn’t actually have the chance to commit her crimes, will she pay for acts that have not been carried out?” Half of your statement was whispered out as you felt him trail his kisses up along the grooves of your tendons on your neck. He pecks at your lobe and cheek as the tip of your nose dips into your ear. “She will live a life as a slave to the River forever…without a second chance at life.”

Your head is spiraling and you felt somewhat guilty for feeling the intensity of his love and melting from it during a serious discussion concerning a young woman’s life. “But she won’t be turned into a monster?”

“No.” He whispers against your ear. “I’m not that cruel baby…” he whispers once more as you feel his hips slightly bucking up under your rear. “Only mortals who did monstrous things will stay as monsters in Hell. I won’t subject a lifetime of torture and abandonment to those who are innocent—even those who were bound to do such evil deeds.”

He lifts your thighs and spreads them open, harshly sucking onto your neck. The squeezing sound of his lips suckling on to your skin is over exaggerated as he straightens his poster and leans slightly forward, causing you to reach behind and palm his abdominal area. He reassures your stability but wrapping an arm around your waist. “Do not worry about a soul that is tainted, or in the verge of…she won’t suffer…she will merely be a servant to help cleanse the River Styx under Niki’s watchful eye. You should instead—“

He pauses as he traces a figure eight symbol along your neck. “Be more concerned for yourself.”

He chuckles a grin. His hands grope on to your breasts as he tenderly kisses your cheeks. You take him up on his advice and decide to focus on the current situation at hand, since you were already on cloud nine from the way he touched, kiss, groped, and move along your body. “Can I ask for a favor?”

You feel his head delicately move as he outlines a final eight symbol with his tongue before responding. “Ask anything you want.”

“Would you put a bow on? For me?” You turn your head to the side to face him, resting it against his shoulder. “I want to see my husband in a bow.”

He smirks and releases a small chuckle. You both remained seated, lounged back within his throne, chuckling at the small request. He reaches up to his collar, using only one hand as he loosens the black sash that acted as a tie, with a loose knot. After undoing it, he pulls it out, the sound of the silk material slides from under the collar of his white shirt. Pulling it all the way through, the collar opens up revealing a slight bit of his chest and collar bone as he presents you the sash. “There you go my love. Now you can see your husband in a bow.”

You giggled as you take the sash from his hand, those beautiful black colored fingernails adorning it added a flare of sensual delicacy to the masculine feature of the strong looking, veiny structure. It was androgynous, but more so manly.

“You hold up the sash to your nose, it smelled of vanilla musk, a contradicting scent. “I don’t know where to put it on.” You shake tell him.

He taps against your nipple before tapping onto your rear. “I have an idea, go ahead and stand up. Close your eyes.”

You stand and cover your peepers with both hands. You smile and giggle as you listen in on the sound of his belt unbuckling, his shirt being discarded along with his black coat. “You can uncover your eyes now, darling.”

You shrill out a yelp and immediately cover your eyes back up the moment you unveiled them. There before you was Heeseung sitting in his throne, completely nude. Both his hands resting on the extravagant arms of the chair with his legs completely spread, revealing the glory of his endowed nature. His cock is stiff, proudly perpendicular as it points north with its impressive length and girth exposed, and the lump sack that foundations the size of his magnificent muscle. Around the base of its circumference, was the sash previously in hand. It was now tied into a neat bow, decorating the shaft while the trimmed edges fall gracefully against his balls. “Heeseung!” You gasp out as you giggle while covering your eyes once more, periodically peeking in between your fingers. You blush immensely as he merely sits there unashamed, smirking with a small deep chuckle. A bit of his teeth can be seen by the side grin he displays in his handsomely sly face. “Like my bow?”

You nearly squeal as you felt too embarrassed and shy to inhale the view. “Heeseung what are you doing?” You suddenly feel the sheer force of his power pull you in. “Giving you exactly what you asked for.”

You stumble as the telekinetic force of his ability drags you closer to the throne chair. Your eyes were still partially covered as he begins to pull you in by the waist, noticing that you kept covering them by the palms of your hands. “Now, what was it that I said before—back on the night when we first met…oh yeah.”

His eyes widen as he remembers the line that started it all. “Sit on it.”

You felt the strength of his arm pull you down as your body came into his reach, forcing you to your knees before him, gaining a more magnifying view of his normally hidden features. His hand reaches the back of your head as he pulls you in, gently kissing the tip of your nose with the shaft of his cock. The silk material neatly tied around brushes against your cheek as he steadies you against him. “Show me how much you love my effort baby. Don’t I make you happy?” He taunts out with a malicious smirk.

You cave in as you inspect the delectable muscle in front of you. God, he was so big. How on earth has he managed to fit this inside you all this time? No wonder it always hurt, though it also brought you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever known. You each up and grip the base of its girth as you nod in response. “You do.”

Your voice was soft and nearly a whisper as you spewed your words while pressing your lips against the skin. “Then show me.” His voice was a contrast from yours. It was deep, dark, and sinister with a tinge of gentleness peeking from the calm tempo of his tone.

You grip over the sash ringing around the base and gently impoverish the tip with kisses. “Fuck…keep going, angel-face.”

At his bidding, you not only kept up with your kisses, but you incorporated the smoothness of your tongue along the grooves of his veins as you licked the entire length, too top to bottom. He flings his head back, exposing his entire throat and gasps air as his Adams apple shifts up, then back down when he gulps. “Oh fuck! You’re going to get it.”

Challenge accepted. You felt brazen as he keeps gulping a lump of choked saliva, which gave you the fortitude to go in more vigorously. You insert the tip in, slurping the juices that coated it. Slowly you inserted as many inches you could possibly fit in. Alas, even after taking in a handful of his length, you were surprised to see that it didn’t even cover half of his size. The tip was already reaching your tonsils. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t care.

“You’re going to take all of me in, darling.” He speaks with lazy hooded eyes half shut, creating a super relaxed expression. His hand placed atop your head, he slowly pushes you down. There was so much of him, you wanted to back out. The discomfort feeling of his base growing thicker the more you went down, while the tip of his length reaches the deep ends of your esophagus, it was all too much. You slap your hands on his thighs and prepared to pull yourself away yet his hand kept you steady. You choke on it with tears squeezing out as you begin to sob out and moan in despair. When he suddenly pauses the pushing and coos you.

“Shhh…take a deep breath through your nose baby.” You do exactly what he guides. “You’re almost there. You’re doing so well, just a little more.”

He continues to push your head down and finally, your nose and lips reach the base of his pelvis. Keeping you there for a few seconds, he finally releases, allowing you to slide him out abruptly, gasping for air. Coughing, you hyperventilate as the string of saliva bridges the tip of his shaft to your mouth, which has now become blistering red while your eyes grew puffy and pink from the sobbing. “P-please! I thought I was going to choke to death!” You hiccuped as you begged him with pleading eyes. He responds by leaning over, cradling his fingers under your chin while pulling you in. “Shh-sh-sh-sh-shhhh. You’re fine, and you’re doing good. Take a deep breath and keep going. You wanna make me happy, don’t you?”

His eyes glared with a darkness that was so ferocious. Of course you wanted to make him happy, for many reasons. Whether it would be for the newfound love you were forced to develop for him, or the fact that you wanted to avoid seeing his bad side, you realized that keeping him happy only meant that you’ll experience his love in purity, no matter how rough it may be. He always told you that he’d love you, even if you upset him, so that you never had to worry about him being angry. But honestly, did you really want to see the Devil angry at you? With his he normally was in his performance of lovemaking, did you really want to test the waters and venture into the dark side of his love for you?

“Y-yes…I do want to make you happy.” You murmured out.

“Good girl” he smirks as he leans back into his chair, nodding as he flicks his eyes down to his cock then right back at you, signaling for you to continue. He looked so stern with that expectant look, yet he was so devilishly handsome doing it.

You regain your grip and continue, going slow and steady at first, gradually picking up the pace as you hear him release his perverse growls. “Come here.”

He voiced out calmly as he takes a handful of your hair and poneytail it within his grip. His other hand gently grips the base of his shaft and lightly, he smacks your cheek and lips with it. “Tell me how much you love me.”

The demeaning act creates a tingle within your gut as the harmonious sounds of the hard muscle slapping your skin while his dark voice accompanies it. “I love you—Heeseung!” You gasp out as you leave your mouth wide open to catch the tip each time he slaps it against your face, only for him to pop it out and tap it once more. “You a good girl or a bad girl?”

You catch the tip once more, and just as well, he pops it back out. “I’m good. I’m a good girl.” You mumble as you stick your tongue out and watched as he lays the shaft against it, gently sliding it up and down. “I beg to differ baby…right now, you look like a bad girl. Really bad.”

You shake your head as you stare right into his dark eyes, swallowing half his size inside your mouth. This time it felt less painful, now that you were already broken in. “I’m good, I swear.”

“Show me how good you are.” He huffs as he allows you to continue with your oral performance. You rotate your soft grip on the bottom half while sucking in the top, simultaneously shifting and combining a motion of love through skin and mouth. “Am I good now?” You ask before sticking the tip back in harshly. His grip continues to hold your hair in place, yet becomes loosened as he succumbs to the pleasure of your actions. The strands fall apart and frames your cheeks as the remaining thatch rests firmly in his palm. His head flings back, once again exposing his entire throat and leaving only his Adam’s apple in your line of sight as he gulps out his words. “You’re getting there.”

“How about now?” You whispered as you suck on his balls, resting both your palms on the stone tile, now on all fours before him. “Please tell me I’m a good girl.”

You lick the entire length, as if you were a dog. His dog.

“Fucking close!” He harshly whispers as you kept going, when finally he relieves you of control and takes it all back, by taking you by the hair and cheek, and forcing you to take his entire length down one final time as he releases deep inside your throat. The taste was sweet and salty, and nearly felt never ending as you felt the pumping of veins and the twitching of muscle against your lips ringing around the circumference. “Good girl.” He growls as he finally shoots out the last drop as he slides out of your mouth.

His gentle nature comes back as he caresses your cheek and kisses the top of your head. “Feel like stargazing, beautiful?”

You nod as he fingers the remnants of his orgasm from the corners of your mouth, and gently feeds it in between your lips. “Swallow all.” He gently whispers while chuckling a smirk. Your finger rest along the soaked sash that has now fallen semi loosely, losing its beat form as the bow completely came undone.

“I’m sorry I ruined your tie.” You slightly whined out as you took notice. “It’s okay—“ he responds positively as he takes it and unties his cock. He loops it around the back of your neck and grips the ends, pulling you closer to his cock once more. “It still serves its purpose.”

His eyes darken once more and that glare of adoration, love, and sexual rage returns.

“Wanna see a magic trick, baby?”

You knew there was no way out. If you shook your head ‘no’, it only would have fueled him more to do the most unthinkable, resulting in pain and pleasure that was too much to bear. You nod in defeat.

“Close your eyes.”

You reach up and cover your eyes. An internal frown rests within you.

“Open.”

You drag your palms down slowly and open your eyes. There he was, still entirely nude and…so were you. Your thighs, waist, neck, and wrists all tied with black sashes and bows. “W-what is this?”

He grins evily as he palms the base of his shaft and growls a dark tone.

“My turn.”

@enheene , aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata , @en-happiness @sacrificeatmeup

#heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung scenarios #heeseung hard hours #enha x reader #heeseung fanfic #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enha heeseung #yandere imagines #yandere heeseung imagines #heeseung yandere #yandere enha #yandere enhypen

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becasworldsstuff · 11 months

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Can i please request a romantic Simon Basset x OC/reader fic? Simon being completely in love with her since they were young, but since his father told him to go away, they separated. They met again.

-> Pairings: Simon basset x reader

-> warnings: none

Simon basset and miss l/n had always been friends, thing caused by her bubbly nature that could outshine the sun even in an August day. She was the only one with whom he could talk without stuttering, he felt at ease and nothing could really make him sad if she was near him. Her presence as a reminder that not all in life was sad and angry at him, that not everyone was disappointed in him, on the contrary she never made him feel bad about himself.

When the old duke of Hastings sent his son away due to the problems he was causing to his own mental health, the two were separated, nothing in means of letters or visits between the two for years if not the memories captured together and the burning sensations in the part of their body that the other touched, or the single pink flower dried out inside Skmon's favorite book that she gifted him as a reminder of the beauty hidden behind fragilness. Both the young hearts were left shattered thinking they would never see each other ever again.

But in his drawer were piled up letters written in his best calligraphy and on the best paper money could buy, for his best friend and little piece of heaven, who had been his own safe place in the mess his childhood had been.

It was her who motivated him enough to return to his old house when the man died, and he found her on the steps of his big place, with glimmering eyes and the brightest smile that ever existed. He stopped in front of her with his mouth that had gone dry, she had grown into the most exquisite young lady he had ever seen or imagined to lay eyes on, his eyes widened and his hands were begging for something to grasp onto to not loose balance while she watched him, she took one step forward and his heart skipped a beat. Even if he only realized now he could pinpoint her as the only woman in his life to which he could ever truly love, but he stayed silent, catching up with her like old times, not stuttering like when they were just little kids playing in the garden not caring about duties.

The days passed and the season started, now miss l/n obviously came from a very wealthy family and her kindness and beauty were known upon the society, but this was her first season, and her older brother and father refused to give away such a perfect girl to anyone so, when they catched up with the Duke longing stares they decided to talk to him, a man of honor, well bred, wealthy. Simon never in his life thought that he deserved for his dreams to become reality but he knew he was a duke and her best solution to this world of strange couples, so he was the one to go talk to her father, asking him her hand in marriage and bowing down on one knee with watering eyes as he proclaimed his love to her:

" never had I ever experienced such strong emotions nor strange feelings, my stomach flutters and my troath goes dry as if I was denying myself with water for you, you make my heart stop and the dream of seeing you walk down the aisle to me has been my favorite image for my life. So please accept my undying love for you because I cannot breathe if I'm not near you, neither I can eat or drink or sleep away from you, you are my sun and my moon and every single star in the sky, my whole body was created to match yours and my core only exists to love you and adore you, you make me burn like I was in a fire that cannot die. So please do me the honor and let me make you the duchess of Hastings "

Her response was awaited from the ball room that had just seen him pacing in front of the doors before barging in and stopping the dance that was occurring at the time, she held her breath and nodded slowly while forcing herself to blink as I'd to make herself realize that that moment was true.

#simon basset x reader #duke x reader #duke of hastings #brigerton #the duke x reader #childhood friends to lovers #bridgerton fanfiction

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storiesoflilies · 3 months

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of angels and curses

warnings: light smut? i don’t know, it’s a lil spicy.

a/n: these interludes will have no addition to the main plot in any way. i suppose they are more of a drabble, anyways it’s just me in my feels. enjoy :) Ko-Fi.

next part — chapter 4

interlude (i)

they lay together intertwined in his garden of bluebells, looking up at the tapestry of starlight galaxies above them. she knew she was dreaming, but it felt so real – he felt so real.

“if i could cast a spell on you, i would,” gojo said, like it was the most simple thing in the world.

how could he not be real? the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed, the way their shoulders touched, and the way he looked at the celestial sky all felt real.

“really? what for?” she asked softly, as delicate as the rain that fell from the heavens that cried whenever angels died.

his eyes twinkled with starlight and silver as he replied, “so you won’t ever forget me.”

she giggled naively, “why, i could never forget you.”

“yes you could,” he quickly said, his words tumbling and rolling like stones from an avalanche. “you would. you know i already love you, but you won’t let me because of him.”

“but i’m here now, doesn’t that count for something?”

“no it doesn’t, because you already think he’s beautiful and he loves you,” he murmured, pointing at a star shooting across the sky, a momentary distraction.

“but i’m here with you now, i’m already yours,” she said, stroking away the blades of grass that clung to his snowy hair.

he shook his head, “you never were. you’re like a little stream running away to join the sea, and i’ve tried so hard to follow you all this time.”

he was so different under the light of moon and stars. here was her champion, reduced to bare bones and flesh, his soul raw and exposed for her to feast on.

“i don’t want to know what you feel anymore, or i’ll start to love you less,” his voice cracked, like ice crashing against stone.

“oh, don’t say that. don’t ever say that,”

he rolled over on top of her, his hands clasping both sides of her head, kissing her face fervently, full of reverence. it felt wrong, this wasn’t holy, underneath the eyes of heaven and the universe.

“i won’t, i won’t,” he whispered, his blue eyes like deep infinite pools that she saw her whole life play out within. “just give me a chance.”

but it would be a lie, and she knew it; so did he. she didn’t think he cared. he was just a fool in the big grand scheme of the universe, but in that moment he was hers, and she couldn’t help but love him the way he wanted to be loved.

“please don’t lie to me, don’t,” he begged, but his voice had become as sharp as thorns and razors, and his fingers dug crescent moons into her arms.

and her heart broke for him, because all she wanted to do was run away from him. it was easier to think he never loved her really, because all any of it had ever been was lies and a facade. he kissed her lips suddenly, trying to be gentle, but he was made of ice and she of the sun. it hurt him more than it did her, and he gasped loudly.

“you can’t leave me, i’ll haunt you, I’ll follow you,” he vowed, his lips all swollen and wet brushing against hers as he spoke, and forbidden desire pooled between them. “is he really worth this?”

his hand travelled in waves and swirls down to her navel, dancing just above the dip in between her thighs, while his other held the back of her head, fingers intertwined into her hair.

“i won’t leave, you can be my beautiful sea now,” she breathed shakily, as his cold lips worshipped her neck.

all lies. she didn’t belong here with him, because he was worth everything she could give. he settled his face between the dip of her neck and shoulder, breathing hard and heavy, and rumbled, “darling, i’m an ocean.”

she shivered as his white hair tickled her chin, and he said, “you’ll hear the sound of my waves, and you’ll know.”

his fingers ghosted over that forbidden spot, and she fought back against the moan that threatened to escape her mouth. he looked at her with those infinite eyes, desire and anger pooling in them, and she knew then she had to be careful against the storm.

“you’ll know that you can never get away from me, from this,” he whispered, his stray hand traveling back up to cup her face.

she said nothing, and they stared at each other like first loves dancing together in between the weaves of fate. time was cruel, and maybe in another life they would have been each other’s dreams. but for now, she would take her chances and turn around and run away.

and run.

run towards him instead, because his love was real.

“why don’t you shine down on me?” he murmured, capturing her lips again, his tongue swiping across them, begging for entrance.

and she let him in, just this once, their tongues twisting and turning together in a fast waltz. he fisted his fingers in her hair and gripped her waist like she was going to melt away from him. in another lifetime, this would have been so right; the way he held her as he started to move into her, the way she wrapped her arms around his neck, and she wouldn’t be pretending it wasn’t gojo making her feel this good.

he finally broke away from her, their foreheads touching, and said, “you can’t, can you? you’ve already spent all your light on him.”

she could only nod, and he sighed in defeat. here was the strongest of them all, a titan brought low, broken and bent, because he could never possibly hope to compete against him.

“you won’t remember this,” he said, bowing his head as the tears fell like a tragedy down his smooth skin. “you won’t remember me.”

“i will,” she stated firmly, comfortingly. this, she would promise.

“no, you won’t,” he sobbed. she’d broken him forever.

and his garden of bluebells disappeared with the wind, as the echoes of his heartbreak cried out to her soul.

-•-

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mcverse · 1 year

Text

ꨄ︎ Paring: Rotxo x Adopted! Sully! GN Reader

ꨄ︎ Requested: Yes/No

ꨄ︎ Type: One Shot

ꨄ︎ Word count: 4.8K

ꨄ︎ Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, requited love, mention of you. Not really mentions of reader being female so I changed it to gn. Safe for 17+ to read. Not proof read, possible spelling mistakes.

please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+

How can one miss someone who was never theirs to begin with?

Perhaps you played yourself, allowing a delusional desire to take root, hoping against all odds that he could be yours. Lost in a dense fog of denial, you knew deep down that this kind of love was never meant for you—that it wasn't directed your way.

Ever since you and your adoptive family arrived in Awa'atlu for uturu, you have all been in the spotlight, but some receive more attention than others. Sadly, the attention you crave the most is effortlessly bestowed upon your sister. His oceanic eyes gaze at her with the intensity you wish he would reserve for you, overflowing with adoration and admiration. It feels almost criminal to witness someone being worshipped so deeply, while she remains completely oblivious to his love.

How can you ever find the words to tell him that every night, as you lay beneath the sky's embrace, peering through the cracks in the mauri, your thoughts are consumed by him? With each star you count, you offer silent prayers, hoping that a shooting star from the tales of old tawtute will streak across the heavens, allowing you to make a wish, fully aware that it will revolve around him.

He was the sun that illuminated your days when they felt impossibly dim just by a smile sent your way, and you were the moon, forever drawn to his orbit, seeking a place in his world. The farther he seemed, the closer you yearned to be, until the yearning became insatiable. You craved his warmth, his light, wanting nothing more than to bask in his radiance. Your existence revolved around him, and with every passing day, the desire to bridge the gap grew stronger. Closer and closer you wanted to get, until the closeness became enough, until only your love for him was enough.

You're unsure how you came to love him so deeply, and it pains you to part ways even briefly. Eywa herself knows the internal struggle you endure when you watch him fade into the distance, vanishing without another word, with your concealed emotions left unspoken.

He was kind, supportive, and courageous—a formidable warrior among the people, a remarkable friend within your youthful circle, and a well-suited potential partner. You wish you could rid yourself of your feelings for him, much like the way he yearns for your sister, but his qualities are impossible to overlook.

Your heart tightens each time you witness him trailing behind her, wearing the most beautiful and genuine smile, calling out her name in gleeful laughter, "Kiri! Where are you headed?" as he dutifully follows her, unaware of the effect it has on you. He would likely follow her to the ends of the earth, and you’ll understand because you’ll do the same.

You often found yourself lost in a tumultuous sea of thoughts, seeking solace by the ocean's edge, far removed from prying eyes. The weight of your emotions became overwhelming, making it agonizingly difficult to confide in someone, fearing their judgment and the damning label of selfishness.

Yet, can it truly be branded as selfish when it's painfully evident that Rotxo yearns to court her, while she remains oblivious or so it seems? What if she truly knows and deliberately keeps him dangling on a string?

Great Mother, your love for your sister burns with an intensity that knows no bounds, but does she truly grasp the power she holds—the power to choose between two hearts held tenderly within her hands? The weight of that choice is immense, leaving you in a state of anguished uncertainty and bittersweet longing.

Then, whether through a twist of destiny or the compassion of Eywa, Rotxo mustered the courage one day to reveal his feelings to Kiri. To your surprise, she was completely unaware of his intentions, blissfully ignorant of his affection towards her. It seemed her attention was focused on another, a fellow female Na'vi within the village. How Rotxo missed that detail remained a mystery, but he wasn't the only one caught off guard. The news reached your ears when Kiri returned home, her expression filled with solemnity.

At first, you struggle to contain your bubbling excitement. It felt like Rotxo was finally free, and a glimmer of hope sparked within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something between you two. However, as Kiri proceeded to explain his reaction, a wave of guilt crashed over you. You realized that you had unwittingly taken his pain and transformed it into your own joy, and the weight of that realization bore down heavily upon your conscience.

That night, sleep escapes you, and you found yourself restlessly shifting in bed, tormented by thoughts of Rotxo. His once charming smile was replaced with a frown in your mind's eye. It unsettled you to the core, knowing that he was burdened with sorrow while you held onto a glimmer of hope.

Reality struck hard—you understood deep down that there was no possibility for you and him. He had just experienced rejection, and pursuing another romantic endeavor would be the least of his concerns. The gravity of this truth kept you awake, lost in contemplation throughout the night. Eventually, you abandon the pursuit of sleep and ventured to the shoreline, where you wandered along the edge of the ocean, sinking your feet into the soft sand as you sought solace in the rhythm of the waves.

Eventually you reach your usual spot, a quiet place for reflection, you freeze in your tracks. Your expectation of finding it deserted is shattered by the sound of gentle sniffles. Someone else seeks refuge there, their emotions overwhelming them too. A bittersweet warmth fills your heart, realizing that this place offers comfort and solace to others who grapple with their own feelings. Though your initial instinct is to respect their privacy and leave, your intention wavers when you hear his voice—his familiar voice that stops you in your tracks.

His voice trembles with vulnerability, as he opens up about his pain and heartache. The rawness in his words sends a surge of emotions coursing through you. You stand there, hidden from view, listening intently as he pours out his feelings. Every word he utters resonates with your own hidden desires, with the longing you've kept locked away.

An uneasy feeling begins to wash over you, as if you are trespassing on his intimate moment. You recognize that these words were never meant for your ears, that he did not willingly choose to confide in you. Caught in this dilemma, you find yourself torn between respecting his boundaries and offering a comforting presence. Yet, you cannot bear to leave him in such a vulnerable state. So, with cautious steps, you retreat to the entrance and clear your throat, hoping to make your presence known.

His glossy eyes shift in your direction, and the sight tugs at your heartstrings. It stirs within you an overwhelming urge to rush to his side, to wrap him in a warm embrace and assure him that everything will be alright. But you hold yourself back, restraining the impulse. Instead, you offer him a gentle smile, your voice soft and tentative as you speak up, "I'm sorry... I don't mean to intrude, but... are you okay, Rotxo?"

His gaze lingers on you, caught off guard by your sudden presence. He takes a moment to collect himself, his voice trembling as he responds, "Not really." He lowers his gaze to the ground, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Frowning, you move closer, squatting down beside him on the ground. From this vantage point, you peer at him under your lowered lashes, your heart betraying you by racing at the proximity. You curse the timing of these feelings, fully aware that now is not the moment to indulge in personal desires. Your sole focus remains on providing comfort and support.

"Why are you crying?" you ask, although the reason is painfully obvious. You choose not to spell it out, allowing him the space to share what he wishes.

He presses his lips together, taking a slow, steadying breath before he responds, his voice barely above a whisper, his voice barely above a whisper, his body slumped with sadness.

"Kiri didn't tell you?" he murmurs, his words heavy with a mixture of pain and confusion.

Naturally, she did. She was your sister, bonded by a deep connection whether by blood or not. It was evident that the weight of her own struggles had become too much to bear alone, leading her to confide in you, and for that, you were grateful. But now is not the time to reveal that knowledge.

“No,” you furrow your brows, gulping as you consider you answer, “She didn’t. Should she have?”

Your question hangs in the air, masking the truth that you hold. You tread carefully, protecting your sister's trust while trying to offer him the support he seeks. You wait, holding your breath, aware that his answer will shape the course of this vulnerable moment between the two of you.

Finally, he breaks the stillness, his words faltering as he reveals, "I... I like Kiri..." His eyes shift away, avoiding direct contact.

You offer a subtle nod, acknowledging his admission. "I know," you respond softly, holding more understanding than he realizes.

His ears flick up before lying flat against his head, sinking his face into his hands as he groans in exasperation, "So it was obvious to everyone except her?" His eyes welling up with tears once more.

Your willpower to respect his boundaries crumbles in an instant, overridden by your overwhelming urge to provide comfort. Acting on instinct, you step into his personal space and wrap your arms around him, seeking to offer solace and support. You understand that apologies can come later; right now, all that matters is being there for him, as he has been for others in their moments of sadness.

He tenses at the unexpected contact, momentarily pausing in his sniffling. But then he returns the embrace, holding onto you tightly and burying his head in your shoulder. The wetness of his tears dampens your skin, a physical manifestation of the depth of his need for comfort, perhaps more than he even realizes.

"I'm sorry she didn't see you the way you saw her..." you murmur softly, your hand rubbing his back in a soothing motion, akin to a mother comforting her child. It feels fitting, given the sense of family that he most-likely come to associate with you.

"I feel so stupid," he whines, his eyes tightly shut as he shuffles closer, seeking more solace in your warmth. It's as if he has been deprived of it for so long, though you know that cannot be true. His parents were present. His self-blame stems solely from the rejection he has faced. "I... I should have noticed the signs... I should have."

Shaking your head softly, you offer reassurance, "She didn't give any signs. You weren't the only one who didn't know,” you pause to ponder you next words, it’ll be a risky statement given the circumstances but maybe you were selfish if you did, “Maybe if you did, you could have found someone who’d reciprocates your feelings.”

"Nobody would want me after this. It's humiliating," he practically whispers so low you’ll miss it if he wasn’t this close to you. His sniffling has long subsided as he rests his head on your shoulder. His arms loosen their grip, hanging loosely around you, "I wouldn't want me."

Your heart aches at the sight of his self-deprecating words, the pain and insecurity etched on his face. Without a second thought, you gently push him back, your hands resting on his chest, a small act of resistance against his negative thoughts. His swollen, confused eyes meet yours as you lean closer.

Placing a hand on his thigh for comfort, you let your voice carry the weight of your words, "Never say that about yourself," you say firmly, your frown reflecting your deep concern, "Rotxo, you are so much more than this moment of rejection. You deserve love just like anyone else. Don't let this define your worth."

Your fingertips caress his cheeks, radiating warmth and tenderness as they glide along his skin. A softness lingers in your touch, an unspoken reassurance that you offer with every stroke. Despite the tremor that quivers through your own hands, a testament to the emotions swirling within you, you remain steadfast in your mission to uplift his spirits and kindle a flicker of hope within his wounded heart.

Truly, it was right there before him, concealed in plain sight, much like it was with Kiri. You can't help but marvel at the irony of it all, how easily the heart can be blind to what lies just beyond its reach. Yet, a tender fondness washes over you, an understanding of his innocence and his unwitting ignorance of the precious connection that beckoned him.

Perhaps, you think, it's for the best that he remained oblivious for now, as the pain is still fresh and tender.

"Do you really think so?" he asks, his eyes filled with wonder and a glimmer of hope, desperately seeking validation in your response. As you nod and offer a soft smile, his face lights up with a genuine smile, the first of the day. Excitedly, he pulls you into a heartfelt hug, his pure nature shining through. This man is truly a gem.

You find yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions as you reflect on the situation. It perplexes you why he seemed oblivious to the impact he had on your heart. Taking a deep breath to steady your racing thoughts, you decide it's time to bring this poignant exchange to a close.

Clearing your throat, you slowly rise from your seated position, your gaze momentarily avoiding his captivating eyes that shimmer in the gentle moonlight. The silence between you stretches, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

"I think it's best if we both make our way back," you say, your voice carrying a tinge of melancholy and unrequited longing.

He reciprocates with a gentle smile, its genuineness captivating you, even in the midst of this tender farewell. A subtle nod of understanding passes between you, both acknowledging the intricate complexities of the moment.

His voice resonates with heartfelt gratitude, softly punctuating the stillness that envelops you both, "Thank you."

With those words lingering in the air like a whispered promise, you reluctantly part ways, each step carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The night embraces you, wrapping you in its embrace as you find comfort in the knowledge that you were there for one another, if only for a fleeting moment.

Little did you know, it was far from being the last encounter.

The following morning arrives, and you attempt to steal a few extra moments of slumber, seeking refuge from the complexities of the previous night. However, your peaceful interlude is shattered by the persistent calls of your mother, who reminds you of the responsibilities and obligations that come with being a member of the Metkayina. The demands of productivity override any personal desires, and you resign yourself to the tasks that lie ahead.

You decide to embark on a fishing expedition, a familiar ritual that brings level headedness and nourishment. Equipped with your trusty net, you make your way to one of the favored fishing spots, immersing yourself in the tranquil waters. The cool embrace of the water fails to deter you as you wade deeper, determined to fulfill your task and provide a bountiful catch for your family.

After a while of not catching anything in your chosen fishing spot, you decide to relocate. Fortunately, the change of location proves fruitful, and you're grateful for the decision as you witness a group of male Na'vi engaging in animated conversation, their attention fixated on Rotxo and his fishing prowess.

A sense of amusement washes over you as you realize his popularity. Who would have thought?

Without a second thought, you find yourself wading through the water towards him, unintentionally interrupting the tranquility he sought. "Looks like you've got some admirers," you playfully tease, you playfully tease, coming to a halt a few feet away. He turns to you, confusion evident in his eyes.

"What do you mean, (Name)?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. But his confusion quickly fades as you gesture towards the group of Na'vi, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He takes a step back, shrugging his shoulders, a slight frown forming on his face. "They've been there all morning. Just gossiping, I suppose."

A surge of annoyance wells up within you, no longer able to tolerate his self-doubt. "Enough of that," you assert, your voice carrying a deep resonance. "Anyone would be lucky to have you... including myself." The words slip out in a mumble, almost lost amidst the sounds of nature. Whether he catches your confession or not, he remains silent, stealing a quick glance in your direction before returning his focus to the task at hand.

A comfortable silence envelops you both, accompanied by the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional splash. Surprisingly, the absence of words doesn't create any awkwardness. It's a stark contrast to the usual giddy and somewhat nauseating feeling you experience in his presence. Perhaps the brief but meaningful connection you shared the previous night has brought a newfound ease and comfort when it comes to being around him.

You feel a gentle yet firm grip on your forearm, halting your motion of throwing the net once again. Turning your gaze to the source, you find Rotxo standing beside you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he observes your fishing technique. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes hold of your hands, his touch sending a tingle of warmth through your skin.

Curiosity dances in his eyes as he asks, "Who taught you how to fish?"

You can't help but feel a touch of self-consciousness, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. "I actually taught myself," you admit, your voice carrying a hint of bashfulness.

A knowing smile graces his face as he replies, "That explains your stance. You won't catch many fish like that." He moves closer to you, his body language open and inviting. His question hangs in the air, and you find yourself captivated by his presence, eagerly granting him permission to guide you.

"I don't mind," you respond, your voice filled with anticipation and curiosity. With your consent, he takes the lead, positioning your hands and adjusting your body to align with his preferred fishing method. Every touch, every gentle adjustment, sends a jolt of electricity through your being.

"I must say, I've caught plenty of fish on my own," you playfully interject as he pulls away, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He nods, his gaze transitioning from your hands to your eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. "I have no doubt about that. But the way you were doing it would have taken much longer," he remarks, a hint of admiration evident in his voice.

With his guidance, you make several more attempts, each time incorporating the adjustments he has shown you. It's a delicate dance of coordination, a symphony of movement and shared intention. You feel a sense of connection and trust building with each throw, as if you are moving in perfect harmony with each other and the rhythm of the water.

Time seems to melt away as you continue fishing together. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter echoes through the air, and a sense of peace envelops you both. The symphony of nature's sounds—the gentle lapping of water against your legs, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the occasional splash of a fish—accentuates the tranquility of the moment.

A bittersweet ache tugs at your heart. You wish you that this would be the last time similar actions would be like this, that it’ll be easier to let go than to hold on to a love that can never be fully realized. It's a torment, a constant battle between the longing in your heart and the rationality in your mind. Each passing day spent in his company, teaching and bonding, feels both like a gift and a cruel twist of fate.

You had made peace with your feelings long ago, even before he confessed his love for Kiri. You had resigned yourself to the fact that friendship was the only path you could walk together, no matter how much it pained you. It was a choice to preserve what you had, to savor the moments of joy and connection, even if it meant treading a delicate tightrope of unspoken desires.

"You're spacing out again," Rotxo's voice breaks the spell of your thoughts. You find yourselves back at the familiar spot, the place where platonic confessions were made, now a couple of months later. Time has slipped away swiftly in the company of the one you love.

You let out a soft hum, meeting his gaze with contemplation and unknown affection. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," you confess, your voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

Curiosity flickers in Rotxo's eyes as he tilts his head, genuinely interested in the thoughts that have consumed you for so long. He has always respected your privacy, refraining from prying into your inner world. Yet, an undeniable concern gnaws at him, a desire to understand and offer support. You both have become pillars for each other, leaning on each other in times of need.

"Is it something troubling?" he asks, his gaze unwavering as he waits for your response.

“I think that depends on how someone sees it…” you trail off, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. The conversation takes an unexpected turn, and a wave of apprehension washes over you, making you hesitate to continue. You can't quite put your finger on it, but something feels different about this discussion, and it makes you reluctant to delve deeper.

"Will you tell me?" he whispers softly, his voice filled with concern and a touch of vulnerability. The genuine care in his eyes urges you to open up, but you find yourself momentarily speechless, unsure of how to express the conflicted emotions swirling within you. You don't want to burden him or risk jeopardizing the friendship you hold dear.

For a moment, silence hangs in the air, and he senses your hesitation. Worried that he may be crossing a line, he considers dropping the subject altogether. But just as he's about to let it go, your voice finally breaks through.

"I don't think I can continue to be your friend... I feel guilty," you confess, the words escaping your lips, filled with sadness and regret.

He shifts in his seated position, giving you his undivided attention with a serious expression. What could you possible feel guilty about? You haven’t done anything to him, he was pretty sure of that. If anything, you have been becon since his rejection, guilt was the last thing he expects you to feel. Unless it’s something he doesn’t know about.

"Guilt?" he repeats, his voice gentle yet tinged with confusion. "What is it that makes you feel this way?"

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you try to find the right words. "It's these... feelings I have," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Feelings for who?” he wasn’t aware you had sometime you liked. And knowing that made him uncomfortable in his chest. It was a familiar feeling—like his heart has dropped to his stomach. A gasp leave Shia lips as you continue, his heart beat picking up.

“For you,” you express, looking eyes with him, “I’ve always liked you and I was content watching from afar. Then we started getting closer and my feelings gotten stronger. It’s became harder for me to ignore it. I can't help but feel guilty for having these emotions while knowing they may complicate our friendship.”

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he reaches out, his hand gently holding yours, a comforting gesture that you hadn't even noticed was trembling, “I think—no, I feel the same way,” he reveals.

Your eyes widen, your face flushing with warmth as you process his words, "You what?"

"I like you too," he confesses, his voice growing a little louder, “It took a while for me to realize it but when I did, I was scared that—uh, that another situation like before would happen again.” he moves to interlock your hands, lower his head bashfully as you’ve done in numerous situations.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in astonishment. "Do you really?"

His eyes meet yours, filled with warmth and fondness reflected in their depths. "I first noticed it when we were going to gather some fruit," he begins, his voice laced with a sense of nostalgia, "My stomach felt funny, and I couldn't help but feel excited when I saw your own excitement.”

He scoots closer to you, his shoulder gently brushing against yours, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Your heart skips a beat, captivated by his closeness and his words.

"The first time my heart raced, I was scared and confused," he continues, his voice soft and filled with vulnerability, "You weren't even around, but it was as if you were right there in my thoughts. It took me a while to understand what those feelings meant, but now I do. I like you, more than ever. "

His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, and you can see the depth of his sincerity. It's a moment of shared revelation and vulnerability, a connection that goes beyond words.

A smile spreads across your face, mirroring the joy that fills your heart. "Me too," you whisper, your voice filled with an undeniable certainty. The weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, replaced by the exhilarating realization that your feelings are reciprocated.

"I thought I misheard you when you said you'd be lucky to be with me," he chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours. "Little did I know, it would actually be the other way around."

You close your eyes, giggling softly at his words, flattered by his belief in your worth. "I see you," you whisper, too shy to meet his gaze. It feels surreal to hear him express his feelings so openly.

He gently releases your hand, his finger lightly tapping your cheek to get your attention. "Look at me," he insists, his voice filled with tenderness. "Tell me when you look at me."

With a bit of reluctance, you open your eyes, feeling a flutter in your stomach as your gazes meet. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver of excitement down your spine, and in that moment, you realize that this is not a dream—it's your reality. Before you can utter a word, Rotxo beats you to it, leaving you breathless.

"I see you, (Name)," he says, his words overflowing with sweetness and sincerity. It shocked you that it was directed at you. Nearly felt like a dream if he didn’t plant a wet kiss on your nose, forcing you to wrap your head around that this was real, that he was there with you—not with Kiri or any o the other Na’vi woman.

Just you.

"Would this make it awkward, liking you after..." he starts to ask, his voice trailing off, unable to find the right words without it sounding off.

You shake your head, dispelling his concerns with a reassuring smile. "She'll understand," you assure him, confident in your response.

Because even though Kiri may have been oblivious to Rotxo's feelings, she had an inkling of your affection for him. That fateful night of raw emotions and a little too much alcohol had led to a heartfelt confession, revealing the depths of your feelings for Rotxo. In that moment, Kiri had grasp the truth, and though unspoken, an understanding had silently formed between you.

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apollodrider · 6 months

Note

Hello sunshine.☀️ could you do apollo headcanons with a female human reader? Thank you, have a good day.🌻

Thank you for the request!

I tried my best <33

Apollo x (Fem) Human! Reader

HEADCANONS

____• MAYBE gods and mortals interacting wasn't so ideal. You sometimes get nervous when interacting with him because of that. Apollo doesn't mind, he waits patiently for you to open up to him.

• Apollo does pursue you, he's not the demanding type, he instead works to win you over.

• Apollo likes to go through what we call 'courting', he finds the idea cute. He'd bring back silly gifts to you just to see you smile. He would write poems and dedicate to you. He'd sing you songs and play the lyre for you.

• He always make sure to treat you gently.

• “What's your love language?“ You ask him, curiously. “All five, darling. You deserve to experience all five.“

• I believe Apollo likes to show all the love languages to prove his love for you.

• Physical touch : Apollo lets you lay your head on his lap and rest as he caresses your hair. Whenever he sees you, he gives you a kiss on the back of your hand. He makes sure to give you lots of hugs and kisses. Sometimes, just to tease you, he'd give you a kiss on the lips before leaving. Like a goodbye kiss. He loves to hold your hand, your wrist, your waist, and all of that. It feels like heaven to him, you're just so beautiful.

• Quality time : Apollo would always visit you at completely unique and unexpected times. Sometimes early in the morning and sometimes around the afternoon. He'd drag you and take you to places, taking you out on dates, like picnic dates under the sun or under a tree. Other times, he's just there to keep you company and listen to you speak.

• Words of affirmation : Apollo loves to praise you a lot. In his eyes, you're gorgeous. He constantly compliments you, whether your appearance or your personality. He gives you reassurance whenever you're down.

• “I'm not very beautiful-“ You tell Apollo and he immediately looks at you, a frown on his face.“{Y/n}, you're as gorgeous as a star.“ Apollo said, complimenting you wholeheartedly. You raise a brow at that. “What is that supposed to mean?“

“Your beauty is shining, blinding, infact. You're a star, special and unique.“

• Acts of service : When you go out together and you have stuff to hold, Apollo carries them for you. Whenever your legs hurt from walking, he carries you. Whenever you're sick, he's there to take care of you. He's always worried about you, not wanting to see that you have even a single scratch on your skin.

• Gift giving : He loves giving you gifts. Apollo draws you often, making sketches, and paintings about you. He'd give one to you and keep some for himself, to admire you when he can't see you. When he sees something that reminds him of you/thinks you would like that, he gets it and gives it to you. Most of his gifts are cute, like stuffed toys, clothes, flowers, or food.

• Apollo always make sure to make you feel special. If he ever finds out someone hurt you, he'd have a talk with them and force them to apologize.

• You smiled at Apollo, holding back your laughter before you suddenly burst out into laughter. Apollo froze at that, surprised. He admired you. With glistening eyes, he watches you laugh and finds you adorably pretty when you do. “You're funny, Apollo.“ You comment, finally calming down.

From that day on, Apollo always made sure to crack jokes just to see you laugh.

• Apollo would take you to gardens, or flower fields. You'd both make flower crowns for eachother and wear it. He loves doing that a lot, it makes you happy, and it makes him happy too.

• You and Apollo have a sun and moon relationship in your eyes. But in Apollo's eyes, you are the sun to him. His sunshine. That may sound odd, but sometimes... the sun needs it's own sun, it's own sunshine that brightens his world since he makes other's day, but who will make his? Well, you of course.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #apollo #apollo record of ragnarok #answered #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #ror x reader #fem reader #female reader #fem! reader #fluff

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killersnarl · 1 year

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lay my hands on heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars

#jeff the killer #jtk #creepypasta #doodles #nine jeff #foreshadowing

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bugpiss · 3 months

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LAY MY HANDS ON HEAVEN AND THE SUN AND THE MOON AND THE STARS WHILE THE DEVIL WANTS TO FUCK ME IN THE BACK OF HIS CAR

#nine inch nails

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donnabisestile · 8 months

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I'm drunk And right now I'm so in love with you And I don't want to think too much about what we should or shouldn't do Lay my hands on heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars While the devil wants to fuck me in the back of his car Nothing quite like the feel of something new

Maybe I'm all messed up Maybe I'm all messed up Maybe I'm all messed up in you Maybe I'm all messed up

But this is the only time I really feel alive This is the only time I really feel alive

I swear I just found everything I need The sweat in your eyes and the blood in your veins are listening to me Well, I want to wrap it up and swim in it until I drown My moral standing is lying down Nothing quite like the feel of something new

Maybe I'm all messed up Maybe I'm all messed up Maybe I'm all messed up in you Maybe I'm all messed up

But this is the only time I really feel alive This is the only time I really feel alive

This is the only time I really feel alive This is the only time I really feel alive

Maybe I'm all messed up in you (This is the only time I really feel alive)

#nine inch nails #trent reznor #the only time #pretty hate machine #1989 #Spotify

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prettyh8mach1ne · 5 months

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⋆ Lay my hands on heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars ⋆

#trent reznor #nine inch nails #pretty hate machine #phm era

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izvmimi · 1 year

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cw: questionable reader, infidelity, reader is engaged to izuku, fem!reader. mention of alcohol and smoking. violence and deceit. brief smut with dubious consent. minors dni.

summary: reader looks for excitement and gets more than she bargained for.

a/n: this is... something lmfao. heed the warnings.

you’re greedy.

here you are, with a pricey ring on your finger, in a posh little apartment that is decorated head to toe with the things you like and never had to pay for, and with a lease you’ve never seen nor signed, looking directly at a framed photo of your eventually-husband on the wall. it’s the cover page from an old shoot of izuku’s that you’ve always thought was particularly sexy and encouraged him to make for you.

it doesn’t have the same effect, you realize.

not because you don’t find your fiancé attractive anymore - that’s far from the truth - but because you’ve decided that all of this is... too easy.

izuku loves you too much. he’s sweet. he’s kind. he makes time for you even though he’s often busy. you are the moon and the stars to him and would do anything to make you happy.

something about that is... boring, you think.

turning over on your bed, you scroll through your social media on a burner account you hold - the one that lets you creep on all the pro heroes that you’ve ever considered. pro hero cellophane seems to be dating a new girl these days that he thinks is probably too good for him but who he’s definitely too good for, chargebolt and mindjack appear to be going strong as usual, and ingenium remains happily married to pro hero uravity.

you continue to scroll, and then you see him. pro hero dynamight.

foul-tempered despite having a good heart, and with a scowl to contend with your partner’s classic winning smile, you can’t conceal your own smile creeping to your lips as you click on his handle and go through his pictures.

you’ve always wondered what it would be like... if it were him instead of izuku. after all, if there was such a long childhood rivalry, it must be for a reason, right? katsuki bakugou - the name rolls off your tongue as you lay in bed, and you append it to yours instead of midoriya. it sounds better, you think. he is better for you, perhaps.

your mouth twists as you look at the your engagement ring. it catches the light as your hand moves.

perhaps. if you’ve caught one’s eye, perhaps you can catch the other you’ve always thought.

after all, you run into katsuki at the store today, and for once, just once, he smiled at you.

---

izuku has been overseas for a month by now. the video calls and text messages have remained the same level of consistent, every day and twice on sunday, and he’s sent you postcards, many of which apologize for not being there and others making it very clear that he would want nothing more than to hold you close. you’re most fond of the presents - expensive shoes and clothing, makeup, anything that you ask for to keep yourself looking well-maintained - although you still do appreciate how sweet he is when he calls you in the middle of the night, and how that rapidly shifts to a more hungry, dominant tone in the early am.

but you’ve realized you like bakugou’s voice better.

“you come around here often?” he says in a low tone, as he catches you on your daily run through the park down the street from your highrise. you laugh, coyly as you stop and thank the heavens that you picked this particular outfit that accentuates your best assets.

“you know i live here, don’t you?”

he grins, and you’re blinded by white teeth in the early morning sun.

“yeah, i’m well aware midoriya moved you in here.”

you scrunch your face. it’s that classic rude behavior that stings but perhaps can soften over time. maybe you’ll be more partial to it when he’s fucking you.

“he did so kindly move me here, but i have my own money, you know,” you say, sweetly. bakugou tilts his head to the side, and you keep your smile even, batting your eyelashes ever so slightly. it’s irresistible and you watch his eyes glide over you carefully before he catches himself.

“can i continue my run, mr. dynamight?” you ask, skirting past him. accidentally bumping into him, you apologize, but you deliberately hold onto his bicep. it’s a trained move. you’ve done it on midoriya enough times to know that it works.

you don’t say anything else to each other - bakugou makes some noncommittal sound and decides he’s no longer interested in the conversation - but you figure some progress has been made as you run off, making sure he has a good view of you from the back.

---

bakugou is hard to break, but he leaves just enough hints that you can crack him. after all, since you’ve met in the neighborhood, he seems to pop up everywhere you are, to the point that you’ve teased him about potentially stalking you.

“i don’t think izuku would like how much time you’re spending around me,” you finally tease. you are sipping from a martini at a bar, again not too far from your highrise, enough that you can stumble back home together and make a very serious mistake (or not). bakugou’s drink is surprisingly sweet - an amaretto stone sour - and you tease him endlessly for it.

“it’s good,” he replies, gruffly, not looking at you. he downs it quickly, and you think perhaps a couple more of those will get him drunk and honest.

"midoriya doesn’t care about much other than hero work,” bakugou says.

you raise an eyebrow slightly at the implication that your fiancé does not care where you go or what you do. and yet here you are, on a friday evening with #2, hoping that perhaps he will look at you the same way your partner does.

“like you do?” you joke, laughing. the tilt of bakugou’s head is just teasing enough at this angle and you remember that he is quite charming despite all of his supposed faults.

“i’m here with you tonight, aren’t i?”

you don’t have a comeback for that. instead, you shift, and then you move in a little, and he moves in too, and your lips meet.

---

when clothes come off and your phone turns off, for a minute, you consider just how wrong this is. after all your partner hasn’t done anything wrong except be himself, and now you’ll probably miss his calls to sleep with his friend.

and yet when katsuki stuffs himself inside you and his fingers intertwine with yours, it’s very hard to imagine that anything else matters. what matters is this moment, right now, where katsuki has also noticed you, and also dreamt of pleasuring you, and doesn’t care about risking his reputation or his friendship for your sake... it feels like something you don’t want to wake up from.

katsuki gives you round after round, and by the final time you’ve tipped over the edge, you have a single second of clarity.

your phone hasn’t rung the entire night. there’s an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach once you realize this, stress exuding from your body like the fluid (cum and all) seeping out of your legs.

when you turn, katsuki is lighting a cigarette, something that surprises you. no pro hero you’ve ever met does this, and especially not so casually, given that they usually make sure to keep their bodies in tip-top shape.

or at least look like they’re doing so.

“you... smoke?”

he almost looks shocked you asked. you blink, pulling your bedsheets to cover your chest instinctively, but continue laying on your side. katsuki crosses his legs at the ankle and lays comfortably. he glances at the picture of izuku across the room, and you look at his face carefully for any type of remorse. there is none. rather than remorse, there’s more a curiosity.

“does he treat you well?” katsuki asks.

you swallow hard. considering katsuki’s lips were just closed around your nipple a few minutes ago it’s an extremely odd question.

“...” you can’t bring yourself to say no, but you also don’t think saying yes is appropriate given the circumstances. so instead you say nothing.

katsuki pulls you closer to lay against his body, still staring at the picture dispassionately. you squirm a little against him, but he’s warm. he feels somewhat safe. somewhat.

perhaps this feeling will change with time. after all, you’ve been with izuku for years. it’s bound to feel different having a different man in your bed.

you remain hopeful, and you fall asleep.

---

pro hero dynamight is not beside you in the morning, but before you can panic and consider yourself used, you hear tinkering outside the room, and the thought occurs to you that perhaps he needed to use the bathroom, or even better, was kind enough to make breakfast.

thinking about the incredible sex you had from last night brings warmth to your cheeks, but when you look up and see izuku’s picture, you quickly avert your eyes to check your phone on the end table.

no missed calls. no texts.

odd.

for a moment you wonder if something may have happened to him, if perhaps some karmic curse meant injury befell him and that’s why he hasn’t called you, but you quickly shake that thought from your head. you are by no means superstitious. you are allowed to fall out of love with someone.

perhaps not in this particular way, but izuku will get over it. someday.

you still feel like you should check in, however. sitting up, you wonder how logistically you can call him - should you wait for katsuki to leave or text him now and risk him calling you?

while you are contemplating, you get a phone call...

from katsuki.

not the fake number he’s been using to contact you all this time, but his actual one, the one you and izuku both have.

furrowing your eyebrows, you pick up the phone, and it really is him, his voice, and you wonder why he hasn’t just walked back in to talk to you.

“hey ____, deku got caught up with something and the nerd wants me to make sure you’re safe-”

you cut him off in confusion.

“wait, what are you talking about? aren’t you just in the kitchen?”

katsuki pauses and the pit you had in your stomach earlier seems to double in size. you can faintly hear the water still running in the kitchen and footsteps shuffling around.

“... what the hell are you on about?” he asks.

your heart starts to pound.

“babe, don’t be silly we just made love.”

there’s a very pregnant pause on the phone, and then katsuki clears his throat.

he doesn’t ask why you called him babe, and you try desperately to come up with an explanation for the extremely impartial tone he has on the phone. your throat is going dry the entire time, blood running cold from your fingertips to your toes.

“what the fuck are you talking about? why would i ever...?”

“s-so you haven’t been here?”

“are you fucking insane? i just came back from osaka last night.” he replies, incredulous.

a sound comes out of you that sounds like a whimper and it’s fear. bakugou is still ranting at the other end of the line but you catch only some of it.

“hold on, i’m just gonna ask midoriya to call you because i have no idea who the fuck you’re calling babe but i’d rather stay out of it.”

the pit in your stomach triples and you start calculations in your head.

if that’s not katsuki, then who is-

the footsteps are approaching now and you quickly hang up, pushing your phone into the cabinet, smiling sweetly at not-katsuki who’s finally returned.

“did you sleep well?” he asks. now that you look again, his red irises don’t look right, flat and soulless compared to bakugou’s natural vitality.

what’s more concerning is not-katsuki’s hands are behind his back.

you’re unable to conceal your sudden terror, and tremble as you answer:

“y-yes.”

not-katsuki has finally realized that you’ve picked up that he’s not who he says he is. a smile unfurls, and then the disguise melts away slowly as whoever the fuck you just fucked reveals knives sharpened to a point and a hole lot of rope.

you’re too terrified to scream.

“i didn’t think this disguise would work,” he chuckles as he approaches. “i always thought the pro heroes were the best of friends.”

frozen in place, you think of a way to escape, but nothing comes to mind. instead you are naked, vulnerable, confused and trapped in a web of your own making.

your phone starts to ring, the vibration reverberating through the wood in the cabinet.

the villain smiles, and his teeth are no longer perfect and white, and your future is suddenly uncertain.

“good thing, you’re a dirty little whore.”

#izuku midoriya x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #izuku x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #thoughts: izuku #thoughts: bakugou #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #cw: infidelity

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