#my memories are all fucked up from the last several years
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"the orange sun in the blue sky"
a/n: hi guys this is a rly rly old weirdly made draft that I made during my rly bad hyperfixation on the rise movie; i thought i might share it with y'all bc im somewhat proud of it? pls dont mind any mistakes i wrote it in a rush i think...? gl to everyone reading hahaha lmk what u think pls dont be mean
summary: leo and mikey are the only ones alive. they finally defeat the last of the kraang, but at a cost.
warnings: unchecked + unedited weird bullet point format; slight mentions of death/blood; one swear word?; very angsty and sad sorry :((
word count: ~1k
(imagine FINALLY defeating Krang 1 as a mission success)
- the baja blast duo fight the krang, lots of hard hits and close calls and they have the LUCKIEST breakthrough.
- krang 1 is on the ground and no longer able to move, all its tentacles are severed. its hanging on by a thread, one that leo is more than happy to cut.
- “this is for my family.” leo whispers, looking down at the krang in disdain.
- he jabs his sword into the krang's body under his foot, killing it in one motion.
- and just like that, it was over.
- leo takes a moment to breathe, like his body wasn’t letting him before.
- he allows himself to think, to process, to take in the fact that they had just won the war.
they won.
- a small smile grows on his face and a quick rush of excitement takes over his body
- “we did it…” he whispers, “mikey, we did it!” he repeats it, a part of him still in denial and acting like saying it again was going to convince him that the worst was over.
- but the worst was far from it.
- he turns around to mikey excitedly, who he thought was just quiet because he was just as shocked as he was
- but boy was he stupidly wrong
- mikey stood there, a hand on the side of his plastron with blood dripping from it then to the ground
“mikey…?”
- he tries to give leo a smile, but fails as his body drops to the ground
- leo’s heart drops along with him, he calls out his name and runs to him quickly and takes him in his arms
- mikey, even before his mystic powers, always had this signature orange glow radiating off of him. but this time, leo was afraid it was going to become very dim very soon.
- leo took his baby brother’s head in his hand—he didn’t care if mikey was fucking older than him (hc no thanks to his excessive use of mystic power), he was still his baby brother
- mikey needed medical attention fast. but they were in the middle of nowhere. no medical team. no backup. no hamato.
- “we did it, leo…?” mike manages to whisper out and smiled up at his older brother.
- “yeah buddy, we did…” the sniffling soon came as leo tried to fight back tears. he had known this would happen; could you really blame a guy whose family got picked off one by one during the apocalypse to think that way?
“i’m sorry, leo...”
- god, mikey’s voice shattered leo’s heart into pieces. so weak and trying.
- “hey,” leo uttered, trying to change the topic, “remember the time when you thought the gumbus was real?”
- this earned a very weak, wheezed chuckle from the mystic turtle, who had his eyes closed to visualize the fond memory
- “you did too…” leo laughed bitterly at that, feeling his little brother’s breathing pattern slow.
- “i did, yeah. it’s one of my favorite memories.” said leo.
- “mine too…” mikey opened his eyes, the memory ending, and looked up to see leo’s face drenched in tears. a pang hit mikey’s chest as he realized he was going to leave his brother soon.
- “hey, leo?”
- “yeah, miguel?” a playful nickname he hadn’t heard in years.
“you were always my favorite brother.”
leo laughed, genuinely laughed even though it felt like he was being stabbed in the chest tenfold.
- “don’t tell donnie or raph.”
- “i think they know.”
- both of them pause for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say or do. there wasn’t really anything else to do but wait. Each second leo spent trying to figure out what words he wanted to tell mikey. “I’m sorry.” “Say hi to them for me.” “Please don’t leave me alone.”
- mikey was his partner in crime and now he was just… fading. His little brother was dying.
- leo knew their time was running short from the way he was listening to mikey’s labored breaths. slow and trying. mikey thought about using his mystic power for one last push, to stay with leo, to make do with what was left of the world.
- they could rebuild it. it was easy for him to make things out of thin air. leo knows how to build and farm and haul and everything you could think of.
- but the mystic warrior was tired. they had been fighting for decades. he couldn’t lift a single finger even if he tried, and that was fine with him. he honestlyhadn’t felt relaxed like that in years.
- maybe they were better off not saying a word, mikey needed to save any air he could take in. leo kept his mouth shut just so he could spent just a little bit more time together in this bittersweet silence.
- suddenly he sees mikey’s lips open a little bit, and the next words that come out would forever leave leo wounded.
“I love you, big brother.”
- it took everything in leo to not break out in full sobs right then and there. he wanted to scream, beg, plead to the God that did this to mikey— if one even existed.
- leo swallowed the lump in his throat, forming the best—and last— smile he could muster for mikey, mimicking him the way he used to do it for him and his older brothers so they wouldn’t have to worry.
“I love you too, little bro.”
- leo’s little ray of hope slowly went limp in his arms. and he was all alone.
- leo kept mikey in his arms, still and unmoving. maybe it was his punishment for putting mikey in this whole mess. for destroying the world and his entire family. maybe a God did exist, it was just never in his favor no matter how hard he fought to appease it.
leonardo, the last one standing of the hamatos, defeated the Krang and lived, while mikey took his place in the sky as leo’s ray of sunshine.
#rottmnt leo#leo#leonardo#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#michelangelo#donatello#raphael#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt raph#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt donnie#donnie#mikey#raph#tmnt#rottmnt#leo and mikey#baja blast duo
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back to being angry
#i was literally just not here dude#my memories are all fucked up from the last several years#like i really don’t think i’ve been conscious since i was like 16#a lot happened that summer that really fucked me up#and don’t even fucking get me started on seventeen#i just don’t know how to exist with the things that i did and life i built.#i am so fucking grateful i found a partner so wonderful and most of the moments i have been present have been with him#i just wish i could restart our time together#where we are now#just do everything over with the communication skills i have now and the healing i’ve done#i’m so fucking glad i met him so young but fucking god i wish i had time to heal my unhealthy bits before him#it fucking sucks dude#i know i am just a person and just doing my best but he deserves better than what i was and that fucking sucks#and he literally feels the same way but i feel like mine is worse!!!#i just. love him more than anything. he is everything i want in the rest of my life#i don’t give a shit what is around us as long as i can laugh with him and cuddle up with him#we make every space we reside in into a home#just because we are a family#and i love my family so much. we are healing together and growing together#i just really appreciate him and wish i had done things differently#i know nothing can be changed but i hate that i have to live with all of this when it feels like i didn’t make the choices#but i did i guess.#*shrugs*
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I do sometimes find it really annoying that most of the things I do right now are At Least tangentially related to a trauma I lived through.
I am living in a university dorm right now, it's a very typical thing to do, but most people return to their family home during the weekends and only really stay in the dorms because they have classes in the week and having to go from their home to the classes, especially the 9 am classes, can be heavy if they live somewhat further away. I stay in my dorm the entire week. For Reasons I don't want to go back to my old home for longer than half a day to drop my laundry and leave with clean clothes, some food and a chat with my mother. I wouldn't feel good doing so anymore, but mentioning that is weird because most people (except internationals because going to a full on other country just for the weekend, every weekend, would be a bit dumb) return to their home (My dorm feels more like home to me right now than my old house did btw).
When I say I stay in my dorm people are somewhat confused, as it on its own already implies that something must not be that good at the familial home for me to not go there for the weekends. By the simple fact I don't go back it's already implied there is something wrong, and it's true, there Is something wrong, but I can't just start explaining the whole thing, it's not really appropriate for most conversations, and I simply don't want to open up about this part of my traumas. So I just have to quickly and very blatantly brush off that fact and the unpleasant implications to continue the conversation without making it awkward and it's so annoying.
Most of my weird trauma responses at least have the added thing that if I don't verbalize them nobody will really notice. I am good at hiding them, I kinda had to, but this dorm situation is such a blatant sign of something Weird (and not the good kind) that I cannot hide since my actions on their own imply a situation already.
I am somewhat good at dealing with all of these issues, brushing off The Problems is a typical part of normal conversations, but it does get frustrating sometimes when I get severely affected by something traumatic, and it's The Only reason that my problem happened, but I cannot talk about it in casual conversations because of how heavy and intense it is. I have to vaguely mention The Horrors (They Are Complex) and move on before I make my conversation partner uncomfortable. It happened when I had to miss a class because of a severe relapse in my mental health, it happens every time I mention I stay in my dorm the weekends, it happens whenever I get too jittery and weird because of stress (I don't even always know Why I am stressed) and I just cannot explain anything about the cause because it's too heavy for most people to hear. (I do understand that fact, it makes sense you're not going to tell classmates casually about the horrific stuff you went through in your personal life, but it fucking gets annoying when it is fully related to a situation and I have to Shut The Fuck Up anyway.)
It's just frustrating to me that I have to deal with all these Weird Things because of trauma, and everyone sees them, but I cannot explain where they come from truthfully because of how much they are. It's in this weird middle state where people See I am weird hurt, but they don't Know why. I do things differently for reasons they can assume are unpleasant, but I cannot ever truly explain everything to them.
#morningcries#yeah late night frustrations as I just thing about all my friends and such going back to their homes and the occasional somewhat awkward#Lull in a conversation whenever I say I don't return to my kot (so Every time I say that)#Honestly having such a shit childhood really set me apart. But not in a good way#I am weird in many ways. All related to traumas I had and I can't relate to most people#I don't want to return to my home. I don't know what I feel about my sister but it sure as hell isn't a normal sibling relationship.#I have severe attachment issues and fucking cut myself when I was 14#This mutilation fucked up my brain in the long term too as I now just crassly mention them Like That. They don't mean anything to me anymor#School left me a lonely hurt mess filled with anger and resentment. I had no friends left during my last year there. I had no friends when#I began university. My childhood was horrible and I now have to build something new from the shattered pieces I have left#Some people do help me but in a way my childhood is and always will be lost. I can't relate to what most people got to enjoy#Yes some small moments I do. I went on vacation and stuff and it was fun But somehow something always showed up to make the memory taste ba#When I talk about my past I always have to choose very specific small stories and shave off every negative detail and the grander (bad)#Context
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Implode (Azriel X Female! Reader)
Summary: You were an anomaly. 300 years ago you fell from the sky, a star personified, taking the form of a High Fae. When Rhysand found you and realized your power you became a part of his inner circle. It wasn’t until years later that you realized that his spymaster was your mate. Still the question lingered in your mind leaving you never fully satisfied, “Why am I here?” Perhaps the losing battle with Hybern would answer that.
A/N: Just thought I would take some time and get some Azriel on the masterlist! And hey look I wrote something where they don’t suck and fuck. But don’t get used to it, as a scorpio it ain’t really my style.
Warnings: Heavy angst, alludes to smut (you knew there was gonna be a lil somethin it’s Azriel for christ sake), blood, I wrote this in the middle of the night so probably grammar mistakes
Words count: 4646
(All pictures are from pinterest)
The war with Hybern was an ongoing one, and one that’s been hundreds of years in the making. So far the Night Court had yet to engage but I could feel Rhysand growing restless. Velaris was safe, but for how much longer? A few months ago he talked about taking the fight to Hybern, sooner rather than later, in order to try and protect his civilians. As his third in command I agreed with him.
I became Rhysand’s third in command several years ago after finally earning his trust. I wasn’t always part of his beloved inner circle, in fact when I fell from the sky I spent the first month on Prythian in the Hewn City dungeons. Rhys wanted to know why I had fallen into his court, but the truth was I didn’t know. The only memory I had was an image of the night sky, followed by falling, and then Azriel found me in the grass. Of course this wasn’t a good enough answer for the High Lord but after Rhysand finally realized that I was telling the truth about where I was from. We spent the next several years trying to figure out how it could be but found nothing.
Nevertheless I grew to love Velaris and the place I now called home. I loved late night drinks with Mor, decorating the townhouse with Cassian for Solstice, talking politics with Rhysand, teasing the others with Amren, but most of all I loved Azriel.
Even though Azriel was the one who found me, the bond didn’t snap into place right away. I had always had an affinity for the Illyrian, and even though I was once a non-sentient being, I knew that by all standards he was gorgeous. He seemed to have the same attraction to me as well, though we never acted on it. It wasn’t until a drunken night at Rita’s about 100 years after he found me that we realized we were mates.
The inner circle had gotten together for dinner, and dinner had turned into a couple bottles of wine and a couple turned into way too many. Azriel and I had been throwing flirty glances back and forth all night, finally having the liquid courage to do so. I ended up being the first to leave that night and of course Azriel offered to fly me home…
“There is no way you’re walking home, not in those shoes,” Azriel laughed.
“What’s the matter with my shoes?” I protest swigging the last sip of my wine.
“You’re gonna bust your ass starchild,” Cassian said using my nickname he gave me years ago.
“I most certainly am not!” I slur. I go to stand up from the booth to prove my point and nearly topple over causing the table to shift and Mor to spill some of her wine. The whole group erupted in laughter.
“Come on y/n, I’ll fly you home,” Azriel chuckled, rising from the booth.
I braced myself on his shoulder to slip the stilettos off my feet so I could hold them in my hands. The second my bare feet hit the ground I was reminded by how much larger he was than me, and in my wine drunk state my stomach bottomed out in arousal. I waved goodbye to everyone as Az led me out of the small club.
“Tonight was fun,” I smiled drunkenly, my feet touching the cold wet cobblestones just outside Rita’s. I started to wobble a bit when Azriel grabbed me by my waist and hauled me up. All I could do was look into his golden eyes as I felt his hand spread across the bare skin there from my backless dress.
I didn’t think twice before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for a kiss. The second I did it I realized what I had done, and I would’ve panicked if it had not been for the moan that fell from his lips as I pulled back. His other hand hit my waist pulling me closer to him making me stand on my tip toes. I felt my back hit the wall outside Rita’s as he deepened the kiss.
“God I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groans, grip tightening on my waist.
“Then what’s keeping you from doing it again, Shadowsinger?” I smirk.
“Not a damn thing,” he smiled, connecting our lips again.
I was a mess of pure lust, because just like him, I had been dying to do this for years. Even dreaming about it on several occasions. But to have it happening was the most intense feeling I had ever known. My head was so clouded with need that I barely felt his mouth leave mine to kiss my neck. I tangled my hands in his hair pulling him closer and he reached his hands under my legs and picked me up so I wouldn’t have to strain to meet him.
He kissed a spot on my neck that was particularly sensitive, coaxing a moan from my mouth that drove him so wild he bit me. That was the moment we felt it. That mating bond snapping into place. He whipped his head back to meet my eyes, looking to see if I had felt it too.
“Oh my gods,” I breathed.
“We’re mates,” he stated though his own ragged breaths.
“Yes, mates,” I choked out, my brain still too cloudy to say anything as I searched his face for a sign of dread. Maybe he didn’t want to be mated, to me.
A smile broke his lips as he pressed his forehead to mine, “We’re mates,” he said again like he was trying to assure himself it was true.
“We are,” I giggled, happy to see that he was okay with this, that he wanted it as much as I did.
“You’re my mate,” he smiled, brushing stray hair from my face.
“Your mate,” I laughed joyously, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. I heard the door to Rita’s swing open.
“I knew it!” Mor screamed drunkenly. “I knew they were secretly dating, Cassian, you owe me 50 gold!”
“Not dating, mates.” Azriel barked proudly.
“Ha! Mor you owe me 100 gold now!” Rhysand laughed at Mor.
“That’s too bad Az I was hoping y/n could give me a ride later,” Cassian taunted earning a possessive growl from Azriel. The whole group laughed.
Needless to say Azriel flew me to the cabin in the Illyrian mountains that night and we didn’t leave for two weeks straight.
…that was years ago and since then our family has had new additions like Rhysand’s mate Feyre and her sisters. One thing hadn’t changed though, me and Azriel’s mated bliss.
I was waiting in the townhouse living room with the entire inner circle to talk about war plans. Well, most of the inner circle, Cassian and Azriel had taken a trip to inform the Illyrians that war was indeed coming and had been gone for a week.
“Thanks again for the wine, Rhys!” I smile, holding up my glass and clinking it to Mor’s.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to thank the person you stole the wine from,” he rolls his eyes.
“Maybe not, but it makes me feel less guilty about it,” I laugh while taking another swig. I sit and observe Rhys watching Feyre’s every movement, feeling warm and fuzzy from seeing him so happy.
Almost as if in response a shadow brushes down my cheek and I see Rhysand’s eyes flit up behind me with a smirk. I turn in my chair to find Azriel leaning in the doorway.
“Az!” I yell, jumping up and thrusting my wine glass into Mor’s hand. He gives me a knowing smile as I jump into his arms.
“I missed you too, my little star,” he smiled holding me close.
Cassian walked in just moments after and we joined the others in the living room. The second we were seated, and Rhysand stood to address us, it was like all the joy was sucked out of the room. We all knew how serious the topic was, and how even though we had spent many months avoiding it, it had finally come to call.
“I’ve heard reports that Hybern’s army is gathering, and it’s bigger than we expected,” Rhys stated.
“How much bigger?” Amren inquired.
“We once believed his army to be 70,000 men, now we know that it's over 100,000.” he replied grimly. My heart sank at his words.
“Well what did Devlon say?” I ask Azriel.
“He said that the Illyrians would fight, but if Hybern has an army of over 100,000 it’s still cutting it close.” Az replied.
“How close are they to being fully assembled?” Cassian asks.
A beat of silence passes and Rhys looks to Feyre, “By the end of this week they will be on Prythian soil, maybe next week if we are lucky.” he divulges.
“What if we called upon Bryaxis? The Bone Carver? The Attor? They might come to our aid.” Feyre pointed out and I didn’t miss the wince from Cassian at the mention of Bryaxis.
“That could help,” Rhysand nodded. “But there’s no telling what they’ll do once the battle starts.”
“But it’s worth a shot is it not?” Mor urged.
“We can look into it,” Rhysand nodded once more.
The rest of the night was filled with more talk of strategy and thinking of potential allies to call upon, but in the end Feyre’s suggestion was the best one. We all left the townhouse feeling more somber that night, something that rarely happened when we were all gathered together. Azriel flew us home and neither of us said anything. I thought about what Rhys had said, and how we were resorting to calling upon monsters to come to our aid. It wasn’t until after Azriel showered that he finally spoke up.
“You have no idea how good it feels to be home,” he groaned, flopping on the bed. I had slipped into one of my nightgowns and was sitting under the covers reading my book.
“I’m glad you’re home,” I smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. He plucked my bookmark for where it was beside me and placed it in my open book. A habit that he picked up years ago when he grabbed my book from out of my hand in exchange for a kiss and didn’t bookmark where I was. I had never been so furious with the man.
“Come here you,” he said, tossing my book to the side and pulling me into his chest. I giggled as he wrapped his arms around me, and breathed in. “You smell so good,” he practically groans.
“You mean I don’t smell like a sweaty Illyrian?” I chuckle, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.
“Yes, precisely,” he laughs, looking down at me with love and adoration. “Have I ever told you that you get kind of glowy at night? Like you literally have a faint glow about you.”
“Well I am a star,” I smile, pulling my hand out of the cocoon he has me in to let some starlight dance off my fingers.
“How could I ever forget,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow.
A moment of silence passes and I can’t help but think about the war again, this time I don’t keep quiet about my fears.
“What do you think we’re going to do about Hybern?” I whisper.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “All we can do is hope that our allies come.”
“But even then, will it be enough?” I ask.
“It might be, but there’s no telling.” he states honestly.
“Could this really be the end of everything? Everything we’ve ever known will be ripped away from us. Velaris, our family, the two of us.” I confess.
“Hey,” he coos, taking my face in his hands, “Don’t think like that. We’re going to figure this out. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
“And who’s going to take care of you?” I ask, tears brimming my eyes.
“Rhys and Cassian,” he says. I know he feels my fear too, that he’s trying to put on a brave face for his mate. But the fact of the matter is that this is war, and not everyone is coming home. Part of me wants to interrogate further, but I know no matter how many times I ask or rephrase the question, I’m going to get the same answer. Because at the end of the day, neither of us knows what is going to happen.
So I just burrow my head into his chest and say, “Don’t you dare leave me Az.”
"Never mate, never."
That night I dream of clashing swords and soaring Illyrians. I hear war cries and screams of agony. I see blood and mud and bodies skewed across a battlefield. I smell death and decay and burnt flesh. I feel dread and despair. But then there is a blinding light, and there is peace and I hear nothing at all.
I wake the next morning from my dream and slip of out Azriel’s grasp, thankful that he was so tired from the trip from Windhaven that he doesn’t even stir. I get dressed and make my way to Rhysand’s town house. It had taken me all morning to realize what I had been shown in my dream, what it meant. I could only hope that my High Lord would understand it as I did.
I reach his office door and hesitate to knock. I don’t know why, I’ve known the man for hundreds of years. Eventually I do.
“Come in,” Rhysand beckons.
I step in and immediately wish I had kept my mental shields up, I feel Rhys probe my mind and catch a small glimpse of my thoughts. Before he can speak I cut in first.
“We need to talk to Rhys,” I say curtly.
“No y/n we aren’t having this conversation,” he dismisses me turning back to his papers.
“Rhys, I can end this war,” I argue.
“I won’t let you, not in the way you are thinking right now,” he bristles.
“Rhys, listen to me! I can take out the king and half of his army before he even lands a blow on you guys!” I inform him.
“How?” he stops and asks in a demeaning fashion.
I take a deep breath and take a step closer to him. “What do stars do when they die Rhys?” I say slowly.
A deafening silence fills the room, and I see his violet eyes fill with an understanding and realization.
“They explode,” he states.
“And they take Hybern and half of his army with them,” I reiterate, bracing my arms against his desk.
“You would die though,” he states in a way that’s more like a question.
“Yes I would die,” I confirm.
“You would do that to Azriel?” he asks, not believing what I was saying.
“No, but I would do it for him,” I say earnestly.
“Absolutely not, I won’t let Azriel lose his mate.” he says and it sounds more like an order.
I don’t flinch. I knew Rhysand would say this so I continue with my already prepared speech. “You’ll change your mind. When you realize you have more to lose than you originally thought. When you realize that your mate’s life hangs in the balance. That all you’ve gained lies in the balance. You’ll change your mind, and I’ll be ready when you do.”
“So I’m supposed to sacrifice you to save myself? Sacrifice Azriel’s mate to save my own?” he argues.
“You’re not sacrificing me. I’m choosing this. Choosing to give Azriel a chance to live. A chance at life… My final gift, to him, to all of you.” I start. “My whole life, it has never made sense as to why I’m here. Why a star fell from the sky and just happened to find Azriel. But now it does, this was the reason.” I explain.
There’s another silence in the room as Rhysand takes in all that I’ve said. My explanation for being here. Because I was right, it never did make sense that I would be a star personified. Yet here I was.
“You shouldn’t have to do this,” he says sadly, seemingly accepting that this might be the only chance he has to save Prythian.
“This is war Rhys, not a fairytale. Sacrifices must be made, for the greater good.” I say firmly.
“How are we supposed to tell Azriel this plan?” he asks, running a hand through his hair, stress evident on his face.
I know that everything I’ve told Rhys up until this point has angered and hurt him, but I have one last bandage to rip off, “We’re not going to tell him,” I deadpan.
“Y/n you know-”
“That he won’t let me do this?” I cut him off. “Yes I do. That’s why we can’t tell him. I’ve made my choice, telling him won’t change anything. But it will taint the time we have left together. Let us have this last little bit of time and then I will end this war so that you can have more.” I plead.
Rhys doesn’t say anything as he once again takes in my words. But I see the acceptance in his demeanor as he stands up and walks around his desk. He doesn’t speak, he just pulls me into his arms and hugs me. I throw my arms around him as a tear falls from my face.
“You are the bravest person I’ve ever known. I can never repay you for your sacrifice, all I can do is promise you that you will forever be honored and remembered in this court,” he says and I can feel him crying.
“But there is something you can do,” I say.
“What? I’ll do anything.” he backs away to look me in the eye.
“Don’t let my sacrifice go to waste. Make sure that Azriel lives when all this is said and done.” I beg him, a tear slipping from my eye.
The war comes quickly after that. or perhaps it just feels like it does because my life is suddenly on a timer. It isn't long until Hyberns forces gather on the shores of Prythian. We gather the Night Court's Army, the Illyrians and all the allies we can and march to meet them.
The war camp is a mess of fires, blades and soldiers of every kind. I’m practically glued to Azriel’s side, not only because I’m trying to soak up every lasting moment with him, but because he said, and I quote, “I would rather die than leave my devastatingly beautiful mate alone in a campsite full of war bound men looking for one last lay before the battlefield.”
The night before the battle Azriel made love to me in our tent, neither of us daring to say that it could be the last time we would ever get to lie with one another. Only Rhysand and I knew about the plan. It was too risky to tell anyone else, and like I had explained to Rhys before, I didn't want Azriel and I’s last days together to be tainted with constant tears. If I was going to die, I wanted us to be us.
That’s how we found ourselves here, at the front lines, our entire army behind us. Thankfully we were on top of a hill giving us somewhat of an upper hand. Bryaxis, The Bone Carver, and The Attor had in fact come to our aid, giving them the upperhand to deal with those who went unaffected by my blast. As we looked out over Hybern’s army that was a little over 400 yards away I couldn’t help but to cower into Azriel’s side. I looked to see Feyre doing the same to Rhys behind us. He made eye contact with me, and as I heard Hybern’s army in the background I knew it was time.
I stepped away from Azriel’s side and faced him. Took in every single curve of his face, and the way that his eyes caught the sun. I ran my hand down his cheek and he gave me a half smile. I prayed to whoever was listening, that I would remember his face. That wherever I went next I would have the ability to remember every moment I got to share with him in this world, and be grateful for what a gift it was.
“Whatever happens out there today,” I start to say. “I want you to know that I love you. I know I’ve said it a million times, but I could’ve said it more, should have. And I want you to know that you were the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and that if this was all the time we had, I’m grateful for every moment of it. I was lucky enough to find you in this world, I promise to find you in every other one.” I tell him, a tear going down my face as I throw my arms around his neck.
I can feel him smile into my shoulder as he says, “I love you too mate.”
I hold him tightly for the last time and open my eyes to find Rhys staring at me waiting for the signal. “Now,” I mouth to Rhys and he uses his magic to restrain Azriel. I slip one of Azriel’s daggers out his pocket, being sure to avoid Truth Teller, and I turn around and begin to walk down the hill towards Hybern’s Army.
Rhys and I had spent plenty of time coming up with the plan. I had to arrive at the battlefield without weapons, just leathers. I had never used weapons before, having always relied solely on my magic. It would’ve raised suspicion if I had brought any. We made sure our army was far enough away that with the efforts of Rhysand’s wards and the distance, the blast wouldn’t impact our own forces. I walked down to the army alone, appearing as though I am coming as an emissary to speak to them, after all I was just a tiny female, what harm could I do?
I walked with my chin held high, trying to appear as if I was a collected soldier coming to speak on behalf of my general. It was the hardest and longest walk of my life, as no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t drown out the screams of my mate behind me.
“Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Azriel screamed, his voice already horse. “RHYS LET ME GO SHE’S GOING DOWN THERE ALL BY HERSELF!”
I shudder at his words and try to keep a stiff upper lip as I get closer to Hybern’s army.
“HE’S GOING TO KILL HER, LET ME GO!” Azriel growled, a voice so deadly it could only belong to a male who’s mate was in danger.
As I get even closer I see the King of Hybern emerge from the army readying himself to receive my message.
“CASSIAN COMMAND THE ARMY TO OPEN FIRE!” Azriel pleads and I can hear him struggling against Rhys’ power.
“Cassian hold our position!” Rhysand bellows.
“Rhys what the fuck?!” Cassain shouts.
“THAT’S AN ORDER GENERAL!” Rhysand screams, sounding more like a High Lord than ever before.
I approach Hybern, dagger hidden behind me, lodged in my belt.
“PLEASE THAT’S MY MATE!”
I stand before the army.
“Have you come to surrender little one?” The King of Hybern croons, earring a laugh from his surrounding Generals and Captains.
“No, I’ve come to end you,” I muse.
I take a deep breath and pull the dagger from behind me and plunge it through my heart. The last thing I hear is Azriel’s scream before blinding white light erupts from me, and then I don’t feel anything at all.
Azriel:
The battle is easily won but at what cost? After y/n put that dagger through her heart more than half of Hybern’s army was wiped off the face of the earth. The battle was bloody but short and in the aftermath I found myself searching the field for my little star, my mate.
“Y/N!” I scream for her, voice torn.
I scan my surroundings looking for any glimpse of her, but I don’t see her, and I don’t feel her anymore either. She’s not gone, she’s not gone, she’s not gone, I keep telling myself.
“Y/N!” I scream again as I continue to look.
I keep flying until I see her. She has about a three foot blast radius around her where not even the grass is still growing, and her small form is lying there, unmoving. I slam into the ground and run toward her.
“No, no, no, no!” I curse as I fall to my knees before her. She’s covered in blood and mud from being trampled.
I take her into my arms and she’s so cold. So small and so cold.
“Baby please wake up,” I cry, brushing her hair out of her face. “Come on, you said you wouldn’t leave me!”
I sense Rhys and Cassian landing behind me and I can hear Feyre’s sobs.
“Please, please, please baby I can’t live without you,” I press my forehead to hers.
I cry and I beg for what feels like hours, but she doesn’t wake up. I reach inside me to tug at the bond, my last ditch effort to bring her back, but when I reach inside myself there’s nothing there.
At first there was nothing, just Azriel’s scream echoing in my brain and then there was silence. But now flickering in the distance I saw him, saw my mate, and I knew then and there that this was the cauldron’s last gift to me.
“Azriel,” I sang into the void like subspace.
“Y/n?” he asked, unsure of what was happening. He was wearing his pants he always wore to bed, which meant I was seeing him in his dream.
“Yes it’s me Az,” I smile, tears brimming my eyes.
“I’m just dreaming right?” he asks again.
“No,” I laugh walking over to him, grabbing him by his forearms. “It’s really me. I’m here somehow.”
“Oh my gods, I’ve missed you so much,” he breaks, voice cracking as he hugs me tight.
“How long has it been since the battle?” I ask.
“A little over a week,” he says standing back so he can look at me. “Why y/n? Why did you do it?”
I nearly broke at his words, “This was always the plan Az, we just didn’t know it till now.” I explain.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I think the universe knew that I was supposed to save you. That’s why I fell from the sky, that’s why you found me. Why the cauldron made us mates.” I tell him, tears falling from my eyes as my hand wipes away his.
“Why didn’t you tell me though?” he cries.
“Would you have let me sacrifice myself if I did?” I ask. “I wanted my last few days with you to be as normal as they could be.”
Silent tears fall from his eyes, “But what do I do without you?”
“You live Azriel,” I smile. “You were the greatest joy I ever knew Az. I did this so you could live, with Cassian and Rhys. I told you I would find you in every world, you still have things to do in your world, but I’ll find you in this one too when your time comes.”
“How do I live without you?”
“You never will, I am a star after all.”
#azriel x reader fluff#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader angst#azriel angst
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Signed with Love - Helluva Cast
What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤
Characters - Blitzo | Fizzarolli | Loona | Millie | Moxxie | Stolas | Striker | Verosika | Wally Wackford
Series Parts
Hazbin Cast - Here!
Overlords & Sins - Here!
Dear, Hey, Whats up
Oh what the hell, just be my valentine, we both know its about time I just fuckin ask.
I can't promise anything lavish, but what I do have is a kitchen and a comfortable couch. Maybe you can try showing me how to bake and we can eat what we make while watching some shitty romcoms.
Whatever makes you happy,
Oh come on, you know who wrote this.
Heeellloooooo!
I know you are usually the one to ask, but this year I wanted to change things up a little! Be my valentine?
While we could go somewhere crowded and wait forever for food, I thought maybe this year we could stay home, order a bunch of takeout, and spend time together?
And of course, I love you,
"Froggie"
Don't freak out,
I swear this isn't a ransom note, I just wasn't sure how else to ask you to be my valentine.
You know how we both wanted to go to the lovesick festival but ti was sold out? Well, don't ask how but I got tickets. Now we can go watch idiots get drunk and pass out in front of their girlfriends, and enjoy a bunch of our fav bands.
Outfit theme: Hot as fuck?
X Loona
Hi sweetie!
I know technically it's your turn for valentines this year, but I know you've been busy and I wanted to surprise you!
My parents called and told me they need someone to house sit while they are away for the week, so we could enjoy valentines on the ranch and I can show you my home! Especially the food and festivals I always tell you about.
Happy Valentines ❣
Millie
Hi dear ❣
Maybe it's getting old by now, but for yet another year I would love to have you as my valentine.
I don't know where I'd be without you, you make my hellish work at least a tad bit bearable and inspire me every day. I've already had to erase several rambles, so I'll save the rest of the sweet talk for the date. Just be ready in formal attire for 6, because we have a show to catch!
I'm sure you'll look amazing ❣
— Moxx
To the sweetest one I know,
I've been inspired by the books I've been reading to handwrite a letter to you, so you have something to keep for memory sake.
To have you by my side for another valentines is a dream come true, last year you pulled together such an amazing evening that I can only hope to outdo tonight. I would like to take you to see the stars, I know you've always asked and I believe it is about time.
Thank you for being mine,
Prince Stolas
Howdy darlin'
While originally I wasn't going to be home on time, I made sure to finish up this mission early so I can be there with ya for valentines. I'd call, but I know you swoon for romantic gestures, dontcha?
I'll handle all the details of our outing, just relax and don't worry your pretty head about a darn thing.
Can't wait to get home and see you again,
Who else?
Miss me?
I had to head out for a gig early, so sorry I couldn't catch you at the door before I left! I hope this note will suffice in the mean time.
Since I can't bring you, I have a limo headed to pick you up around five, that should give you time to get ready for the concert! Your pass is with the driver, and you've got front row seats, kay? I better see you cheering for me ❣
Happy valentines day,
Mayday 💋
Greetings, I say I say,
It's not everyday sheepish imps such as myself get such a heavenly opportunity to court a sweet thing like yourself!
For you, and you only my dear, I will spend such a lucritive holiday with my one and only. Should you accept, I am pleased to inform you that we have been invited to Ozzie's! Isn't he the kindest?
x x x x x x x
W. WACKFORD
Authors Note - Okay be honest with me WHO ARE WE ACCEPTING A LETTER FROM?? I gotta know,,, This is the last of the valentines series, I hope you all enjoyed!
#koko writez#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#hazbin hotel x reader#helluva boss x reader#reader insert#x reader#blitzo#blitzo x reader#fizzarolli#fizzarolli x reader#loona#loona x reader#millie#millie x reader#moxxie#moxxie x reader#stolas#stolas x reader#striker#striker x reader#verosika#verosika x reader#wally wackford#wally wackford x reader
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Under the Rain (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader is waiting for Spencer in a restaurant to celebrate their 2nd anniversary. What happens when Spencer doesn't show up?
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Spencer fucked up but Reader loves him.
A/N: It's winter on this side of the world, and the rain makes me kind of sad.
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Is there anything worse than your boyfriend standing you up in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary? Yes, being stood up by your boyfriend in a fancy restaurant on your 2nd anniversary day while outside it’s raining cats and dogs.
That's worse. And pathetic.
You feel pathetic, sitting in that chair, all dolled up and waiting. You arrived at 19:30, and now your watch reads 20:45. No sight of Spencer.
What the fuck?
He was the one who suggested a romantic dinner in this very restaurant. He was the one who told you to make reservations. How could he forget it? You knew there wasn’t an active case. The very Penelope told you it was paperwork day when you texted her in the afternoon.
In the past hour, you dialed his number several times. You were worried at some point: what if something terrible happened to him? But you know bad news travels fast, so you assumed he didn’t show up just because he forgot. Deep down, you wanted there to be another explanation because if he only forgot, that would strengthen the idea of how little you mean to him.
Sensing the pitiful looks the hostess and the waitress sent you occasionally, you only wanted to dig a hole and disappear.
When the clock marked 21:00, you gave up. You asked the hostess for your coat and left the place completely silent.
The rain pouring outside was the perfect scenario for your current mood. You thought about calling a cab in front of the restaurant, but you only wanted to be far from that place as soon as possible, so you started to walk in the rain.
Goodbye to the stylish hairstyle that took you hours to achieve. Goodbye to the makeup you put so much effort into doing.
Striding along the sidewalk, you made sure to step on each water puddle you found along the way as you recalled every moment in the past months you felt Spencer away from you. And not only physically as when he was in a case. It was more than that. It was each morning he didn’t say I love you before leaving your shared apartment. It was each text he didn’t send telling you he was coming home or leaving for a case. It was each coffee you didn't share in the morning. It was each animated chat in the middle of the night you didn't have.
Were you being dramatic? You knew Spencer’s tendency to distract and engage in whatever his job could present him. In any other circumstances, you could have understood. Not tonight, though. Not when it was supposed to be your night together celebrating this milestone. The two years of love you thought were strengthening your relationship. How blind you have been. How naive.
You kept wandering on the streets with no destination. You didn’t want to come back to the apartment. You didn’t know where else to go either. So you kept walking.
-
Spencer Reid is a man with an eidetic memory. Everybody knows that. He can remember every piece of information people usually wouldn’t recall. He knows almost everything about anything. But even with his big brain, he sometimes has trouble keeping track of his own life. Like today.
Engrossed in a pile of manila folders from old cases, he lost time. A task meant to take just an hour or so kept him occupied and entertained for almost four hours. Emily’s voice was the only thing that brought him back from those files to reality.
“You still here?” Emily asked with a frown. Spencer looked at her oddly.
“Yeah. I was looking for patterns in our last cases in the northwest. What Tara said about the mixed murder weapons sounded familiar to me,” he explained before rubbing his eyes. He didn't notice how tired he felt until Emily interrupted him.
“Spencer, it’s almost 10 pm. And there is no active case. You can resume this tomorrow. I even thought you had plans today?”
‘10 pm’ and ‘plans today’ was enough to bring Spencer to realization.
“Fuck!” He yelped, jumping from his seat and freezing immediately, not knowing what to do.
“What?” Emily asked, seeing the panic in Spencer’s eyes.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” he repeated over and over as he reached for his phone in his satchel.
“What is it, Reid?”
“Emily. I was supposed to be in a restaurant with (Y/N) tonight! It’s - uh - it’s our second anniversary,” he, visibly embarrassed, finished the sentence.
Emily shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Reid? How on earth do you forget something like that?”
“I don’t know! I - I don’t really know. Fuck. I’m an asshole!” He checked the phone: twenty missing calls. Why he left it on mute?
“Stop complaining and do something! Come on! Move your ass out of here if you want a chance of not being precisely kicked in the ass by her,” Emily instructed. She knew Spencer needed directions when he was freaking out.
Spencer rechecked his watch. It read 10:05 pm.
Swearing under his breath, he dialed your number, which went straight to voicemail. Putting his coat on, he tried again while rushing to the elevator. Maybe you were still at the restaurant? Getting in the first cab he found, Spencer headed there.
Once he arrived, he asked the hostess about you. The girl told him you left after 9 pm.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He called you again with no success. This time you turned off your phone. Spencer’s stomach was a knot, and his heart hurt imagining you sitting alone, waiting for him.
Were you at home? Spencer guessed you wouldn't want to see him, so it was less probable. Should he go there anyway and wait for you? No. You deserved better than that. He would look for you even if it could take all night. Taking a cab, he decided to check the apartment - just in case - and grab his car keys.
As expected, you weren’t in the apartment. Spencer faced the darkness and coldness of the place, and a chill ran down his spine—the fear of losing you forever.
In the car, he thought, where you could be. It was still raining, and Spencer feared you were getting soaked and frozen, God knows where.
It was at this kind of moment Spencer wanted his eidetic memory, and all the knowledge in his brain could help to compensate for the dose of common sense he lacked.
‘Come on, Spencer. Think. For once in your life, do it for what is really important for you.’
-
Spencer parked and rushed out of the car, hoping his hunch was correct. He was in a park. Not any park, though. It was where he met you three years ago—where his life changed forever and for the better for once.
You were in a swing, moving softly back and forth, your feet touching the ground. Your eyes focused on the rain collecting in the nook you created with your feet in the mud.
“(Y/N)!” Spencer called once he spotted you. The rain muffled the sound of his voice.
Your eyes didn’t leave the ground. At first, you thought you were imagining things. It could have been wishful thinking that your boyfriend really cared about you. He called again, and now your brain obliged your eyes to look toward the voice’s source.
Spencer was in a corner where the park's playground began. He was looking at you and wanted to run to you, but the fear you could run away made him stay there, as the rain dampened him.
The sight of you broke him. You were utterly soaked. Your coat and lovely black dress were ruined, and your face with traces of smeared makeup. He could even spot your bloodshot eyes, swollen from crying.
He caused that. And Spencer hated himself for it.
Seeing you didn't say anything, barely acknowledging his presence, Spencer dared to take some steps forward. Your numb body didn't even flinch.
“(Y/N). I’m sorry,” were his first words. Expectable but useless for you. “I fucked it up. I’m sorry. I should have been there. I wanted to be there with you,” he apologized, giving a few steps closer to you. Not looking at him, you mumbled.
“But you weren’t. And if you really wanted to have been there, you would have.” Your voice was low and husky. You sounded tired and defeated. It was worse for Spencer. For him, you should be yelling. Telling him how hurting you were. How an asshole he was.
“Baby, there is no excuse for what I did. The last thing I want in my life is to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Spencer’s voice broke with each word.
What had he done? Why? How can he be so stupid? He loves you. You’re the most important person in his life, so why did he do that to you? How can he fix it?
Still not looking at him, you spoke again.
“I can’t understand, Spencer. It was our anniversary. You were the one who suggested doing it,” you remind him. He nodded, kneeling in front of you. It didn’t matter the mud, and it didn’t matter the rain still falling. Spencer needed to look at your eyes to explain himself.
“I’m an idiot. I lost track of time and forgot,” he mumbled. You held up your head and finally looked at him.
“You forgot? So it's true I’m not that important to you,” you concluded sadly. Spencer’s eyes widened.
“No! Don’t say that!” he pleaded.
“Am I wrong? I don’t think so.” Your chin wobbled, but you needed to say it. “I know your job is important, Spencer. I do. And I never wanted to compete with that because I thought I didn’t have to. But after these past months, I think I need to get used to the idea I lost you already,” you acknowledged with a pained sob betraying you. It was the pang of the meaning behind your own words.
The memories of the past months flashed before Spencer's eyes. And there he saw it. The kisses he didn't give you, the 'I love you' he didn't tell you. The nights he didn't sleep by your side—all the things he has been missing.
He realized that although he never doubted his love for you, he stopped nurturing it and took it for granted.
Crying, he took your hands, and by divine grace, you didn't push him away.
No words he could say would be enough to convey how sorry he was. But he needed to try because he didn’t want to lose you. You needed to know he loved you and that you owned his heart. You needed to know he just realized he made a mistake, and he wants to fix it.
“The first time I saw you in this very place, you were slowly swaying in this exact spot with your eyes focused on the book in your hands. I was so mesmerized that I never thought I would get the nerve to talk to you, you know? But I did. And when I saw the warm look you gave me when I asked you if you had read the author's biography, I felt my heart warming as never before. And when I heard your laugh after I clumsily tried to flirt with you? I swear it was the sound I wanted to hear for the rest of my life,” Spencer confessed, eyes sparkling at the memory. You fondly recalled it too. You never liked to talk with strangers all of a sudden, but with Spencer? It felt natural and right.
“You let me in in your life. You opened your heart to me and taught me how to do that too. You realized I’m not the best student in those matters, though,” he chuckled, seeing your nod.
“Despite that, you believed in me. You gave me a chance to love you, and I swear loving you has been the most natural thing that has ever happened to me. You have made me so happy (Y/N). You have no idea. And that is the problem. I have not known how to love you the way you deserve. I hadn't realized what I was doing. I'm sorry. I spent much of my life fending alone, not walking with anyone by my side. And I know that does not excuse my behavior. Even so, I dare to ask for an opportunity to prove you do not have to compete with my job. Give me a chance to prove to you I can be better. I can be the man who deserves your love. Please let me gain back your love and the privilege to hear you laugh again."
Spencer was almost out of breath when he was done speaking. You mulled in his words as his hands enveloped yours, patiently awaiting your response. Would you give him a chance?
As the rain continued pouring down, your eyes focused on him, still kneeling before you with hopeful eyes.
You know he loves you. Even if he needs to be better at proving it to you. And you love him even if you feel hurt for what he did. You both would have to work to make it work. You both deserved the chance, though.
The answer to his question was clear then.
You hopped off the swing and kneeled, not releasing his hands grasp and pulling him to catch his lips with yours. He kissed you back with everything he had. When both parted, you smiled at him, and Spencer was trying to figure out what that meant. You spoke to make it clear.
“Please, just don't make me regret being in this same place three years ago.”
Spencer earnestly shook his head.
“I won’t. I promise,” he told you before kissing you again under the rain.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x fem!reader#dr. spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#under the rain#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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Basic Training XII (Peter Parker x Reader)
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers
➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
“Why do you listen to everything Steve says?”
Peter’s movements paused at the sound of your soft voice. The bath water had cooled some but was still warm and soothing on your skin. Your chin rested on the side of the tub as Peter sat before you on the floor, squeezing the rag and raining water down on your back. At least, he had been until you voiced what had been on your mind for some time.
Outside of the obvious thing they had in common, Peter seemed so different from the blond. He was so much more gentle, understanding, and you couldn’t fathom what the connection was. Why was Peter so content to hear the man out or even give weight to the things he said? Why did he even care about Steve’s opinion? Why did he even care about Steve, at all?
“I don’t listen to everything he says…”
“No...not everything,” you relented, recalling that if that were true, you would’ve been in the basement several times over. “…but what he thinks clearly means something to you.”
Peter was gently brushing your shoulder, now, and when his dark eyes met yours, he gave you a brief crooked smile.
“Steve does mean a lot to me.”
You frowned a bit at that, and Peter noticed, taking his free hand brushing his fingers along your cheek.
“He’s my brother,” he told you.
You blinked at that, and you were sure that your confusion was all over your face. Your gaze rose as Peter stood, and you watched him lean over to let the water out. Taking a bath with Peter, or with him simply there, was not uncommon for you, now. Sometimes he sat behind you in the water, gently scrubbing your skin, and sometimes he was merely next to the tub, talking to you and occasionally washing some part of your body.
Sometimes even your hair.
He wrapped the towel around your shoulder, helping you out by your shoulders. You found yourself leaning into him as he dried you off, leading you into the bedroom as he did. When he sat you down on the bed, he moved towards the dresser, picking out something for you to sleep in.
“They all are,” he continued as he returned to you. “Our parents took it upon themselves to adopt as many children as they could handle.”
Your eyes were wide as you listened to him, lifting your arms when he motioned for you to, and the nightgown slipped down over your head.
“All of us were babies or practically that when they did,” he told you. “I was the last to be adopted, and growing up in a house full of older brothers was something.”
Peter smiled as he said this, like he was thinking back on fond memories, and you found yourself wanting to know what they were. Your mind whirled as you took in this new information, and you felt silly for never considering that before. You’d thought their closeness and camaraderie came from being friends for years as well as coworkers.
Not brothers.
At that, you looked around the room, taking it in through different eyes. This house was where Peter—where all of them—grew up, and your lips parted. You had the hardest time imaging Peter or Steve or Sam running around the yard as children, running through the house as children. You briefly wondered if this was Peter’s room, the one he’d grown up in, and you voiced that thought.
“It is,” he answered, gently rubbing your arms as your eyes met his again. “…and when I decided that I was ready to take a wife too…when I decided that I had to have you…”
He leaned in, gently brushing his lips over yours.
“I made it so nice and pretty for you.”
You looked down at that, unsure of how to feel.
“I never did ask…but I assume you like it since I haven’t heard any complaints,” he softly said.
You nodded.
“It is pretty,” you quietly assured him. “It’s the prettiest room I’ve ever had.”
That wasn’t a lie, and you almost felt bad for saying it, briefly thinking of your mom. Peter took your hands, kneeling before you, and your frown deepened.
“Why…?”
You trailed off, wondering if you should voice your thoughts.
“Why do you do this? Why did you take me? Why did Steve take Margaret? Laura? Sharon? Surely your parents can’t be happy with this…”
You said that, but in truth, you didn’t even know. In fact, there was a large part of you that wondered if they were even alive. While possible that they simply left and left this house to their sons, you doubted that, and you found that your suspicions were correct.
“Well, they both died about six years ago,” he informed you, looking sad about it. “Our dad was a cop too…”
Peter stood, joining you on the bed, and you found yourself enraptured by what he was saying, getting a glimpse into his world and life.
“Died in the line of duty,” he confessed, and without thinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. “Mom had been with him for so long, forty something years, and it broke her heart.”
His tone of voice gave you an inkling of what he was going to say before he said it.
“Tony found her about a week later. They said it was a heart attack.”
Against your will, your heart sank, and you found yourself feeling…sad for Peter. You didn’t know why. He’d kidnapped you, after all, and knowing great loss himself, he’d allowed his brothers to make you go through the same. Still, if you changed your mind right now and decided that you wanted to see how your mom was doing, you didn’t doubt that Peter would do it.
He didn’t have that luxury.
“I’m sorry,” you eventually whispered, and he gave you a rueful smile.
“I’m better about it, now,” he assured you. “…and…about everything else…?”
He exhaled, leaning back on his elbows.
“Our dad did the same to our mom when she was only nineteen.”
His words had your eyes widening some more, and you looked at him in shock. Peter had said it so casually that you didn’t quite comprehend what he’d said at first, but when you did, you moved closer, bringing your feet up onto the bed.
“What?”
Peter nodded, looking like it was the most normal thing in the world, and you supposed that for him, it was. If he knew that was how his parents had met, then clearly it wasn’t secret. Or…at least…not a well-kept one.
“By the time I was adopted, he didn’t have to punish her as much, but Steve says that when him, Bucky, and Tony were taken it, it was a regular thing to hear her crying in the basement or see him give her a few lashings.”
The thought made you swallow, and now, you couldn’t imagine Peter growing up in this house for a whole other reason. His mother’s life sounded horrible—familiar—and you recalled that Peter implied she’d died of a broken heart. You didn’t need to be a genius to realize that she’d succumbed to her own captor, and fearfully…that realization also sounded familiar.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the feel of Peter’s hand on your arm, tracing patterns into it with his fingers.
“She grew to be really happy with him,” he tried to assure you, and he didn’t need to address the words that went unsaid.
So would you.
The implication was there, and you let him twist his fingers with yours.
Now, it all made sense. They’d grown up in a house with a rapist and captor for a father and victim for a mother. They grew up witnessing her abuse, internalizing, accepting their version of normal as it was passed down to them. They grew up to repeat history, and you got the sick feeling that their father would be proud.
You looked over as Natasha swayed, worriedly eyeing her as you distractedly stopped what you were doing. This was the second day in a row that she didn’t look much like herself, almost haggard. You both were preparing dinner, Christine having stepped outside to grab some thyme from the garden.
“Are you okay?” you finally asked her.
Truthfully, she didn’t look the best, but you didn’t want to say anything lest that wasn’t intended. The redhead didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you were worried that she’d ignore you. Natasha had been a little off as of late, quieter around everyone really, not just you, and it worried you. It wasn’t like her.
“I’m…fine,” she breathed. “Just feeling a little lightheaded, that’s all.”
At that, you completely stopped what you were doing and neared her. She shook her head when you asked if she minded, your hand out, and you pressed it to her forehead. She didn’t feel feverish, and you told her so.
“I don’t think I’m coming down with something, so I wouldn’t expect to be,” she sighed.
Her tone and the expression on her face made you think that she had an inkling as to what was wrong. You started to voice that when a familiar voice drew both of your attention.
“That smells great, pretty girl.”
You smiled before you could stop yourself, only allowing it to fall some when you blinked, silently chastising yourself.
“…and Nat,” he teasingly drawled, making his way to you.
“Thank you, Peter,” the redhead evenly said, returning to the food before her.
You eyed her again as Peter’s hands settled on your waist, frowning to yourself as you watched her continue her work like nothing was wrong. You seriously got the feeling that something was going on with her, and it’s not like you felt comfortable to bring that up with Peter in the room.
You only just realized that Peter was saying something.
“Do I get a sample before the rest of the house?”
He already knew the answer to that, and you gave him a look.
“I’m barely even done,” you told him. “…and besides. You know that Steve wants us all to experience it together as a family.”
You made sure to face away from Peter when you rolled your eyes at that. Steve being the equivalent of the first-born son made it click as to why he seemed to be the head of the household for the most part. Learning about their childhood and their relationship with one another also made it clear why Peter only took half of what Steve said to heart.
It’s why you were unsurprised when Peter reached around you to taste the pot of soup anyway.
“Needs more salt,” he said, but his tone was light. “See…”
He gripped your chin, turning your head and making your lips meet his in a small kiss. It took you by surprise, and you made a noise in the back of your throat, more shocked with yourself when you started to kiss him back just as he pulled away. Peter smiled at you when his gaze met yours, and he quickly kissed your cheek before finally pulling away.
“I guess I can just add more at the table. It tastes great.”
He squeezed your sides, saying goodbye to Natasha. You looked after him as he went, oblivious to the fact that you’d stopped staring in order to do so until Natasha called your name. You softly apologized, and you could feel her gaze on you. It was silent between you two again…for a while.
“You seem to be adjusting pretty well.”
You looked at her, thinking on it.
“I guess I am,” you slowly told her, frowning. “I don’t think I ever apologized for my birthday dinner, by the way. I know it was weeks ago, but…”
“Don’t,” the other woman argued. “You had every right.”
You watched her heave a sigh.
“None of us enjoyed our first birthday here. Considering your…circumstances, I would’ve been worried if it was anything other than what it was,” she sadly said.
In truth, Natasha had been off ever since she found out just how you’d been taken and her husband’s part in it. You imagined that it had to affect the way she saw him, and as she grew quiet again, your desire to check on her won.
“Natasha, are you okay?”
She briefly paused at your question.
“You just seem really unlike yourself, lately, and… You look unwell.”
You watched her face harden, lashes fluttering as she blinked, and for a moment, you didn’t think she’d answer. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she spoke, you almost didn’t hear her.
“I think I’m pregnant,” she told you, making you sharply inhale. “…and I don’t want Bucky to know. Not yet.”
You felt flattered that she trusted you wouldn’t tell, and you wouldn’t, not even to Peter, but you did wonder why she didn’t want Bucky to know just yet.
“I kind of hoped I could avoid this, you know…? I’d always been told it would be hard for me to conceive, but not impossible, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t been trying…but…”
Her shoulders sagged, and she wouldn’t look at you.
“Either Bucky was going to take someone else’s baby, and two more innocent lives would be ruined or…a miracle would happen. Bringing another life into this was inevitable, anyway, but I’d hoped…”
She shook her head.
“I’d made peace with starting a family with someone I’d trusted who grew up to betray me in the worst way possible…I’d made peace with who I thought he was, but… He murdered your friend.”
She looked at you, and your chest tightened.
“…and he might as well had murdered the rest too. I don’t know if I can make peace with that…”
You could see it on her face that she was struggling with all of this all over again with these recent developments, but you didn’t know what she was getting at. You didn’t understand where she was going with this…or if she was just ranting.
“…and you’ve known all along and had to be around them this whole time and try to suck it up and cope as best as you can…and…Peter…”
She breathed his name, a look of disgust and anger on her face. She shook her head, and her eyes met yours again.
“I can see that…you’re taking all of this better than before,” she noted, eyes falling to your ring. “…that you’re trying to find some peace in this, but there’s something you need to know about Peter. I know that you-.”
“So much of the thyme wasn’t even edible, anymore,” Christine said as she came into the kitchen. “I had to pick through so much.”
Her presence had Natasha swallowing her words, and your brows were drawn together as you stared at her. You weren’t paying attention to a word Christine was saying, too focused on what Natasha was going to say. You feared that with the other woman’s presence, you wouldn’t even have another chance to know what Natasha was going to say.
As the brunette pulled the other woman into conversation about stuffing the chicken, you forced yourself to let it go for another day. After all, what didn’t you already know about Peter?
You sat on your bed twiddling your thumbs as you waited for Peter to return. He was downstairs with the rest of the men, talking about work, you assumed, and considering that Steve hadn’t had much appreciation for that night you’d dozed off on the stairs, you decided to wait for him here.
As much as it was killing you.
Every time you were away from Peter, you just felt so anxious, and you didn’t like it. Truthfully, you should feel relieved and like a breath of fresh air anytime he was gone. After all, when you were alone, it was like he couldn’t get enough of you. You absentmindedly reached up to touch a tender area of your neck, and when a shudder traveled down your spine at the memories, you weren’t so sure that it was one of fear.
The only time in this house where you could just be was when you were with Peter. More specifically…when you were under him. When you were with him, it was the only time where you weren’t obligated to pretend. He let you be sad, and ask questions, and talk about your friends. Peter allowed you to have a space that was safe…and the irony in that was not lost on you.
When you were under him, your mind was blank, unable to process anything but the feel of him inside of you. It was a feeling you were starting to crave whenever you felt overwhelmed, and you hated it. You shouldn’t want Peter. You shouldn’t enjoy Peter, but your only safe space was Peter.
As if your thoughts summoned him, the room door finally opened.
“Oh, hey!” he said with surprise when you hurried off the bed, wrapping your arms around him. “Not asleep yet?”
Still at war in your mind and unable to voice your thoughts, right now, you shook your head.
“You should be getting more sleep,” he told you, touching the skin beneath your eyes when you pulled away.
“That’s hardly my fault,” you dryly reminded him, and Peter chuckled, a half smirk on his pink lips.
“Sorry, pretty girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I just can’t get enough of you.”
When he started to lead you towards the bed, you stopped him. He looked at you in wonder, and you pulled your lip between your teeth.
“What is it?” he softly asked, concern dancing in his gaze.
“Can we go outside?” you quietly wondered, continuing before he could refuse. “I didn’t get to go outside, today, and… I don’t know, I just feel really down.”
Natasha’s confession and your feelings regarding Peter were weighing you down. You knew that the men liked to know as soon as possible if their wife was pregnant, but Bucky wasn’t your husband, and it wasn’t up to you to tell him something so personal about the redhead. Besides, as long as he didn’t suspect that she or anyone else knew and kept it hidden, it wouldn’t be a problem.
…and Peter…
You tilted your head at him, just wanting to be outside and feel the air on your face with the one person in the house you felt you could be open with. Peter told you that he liked that you wore your heart on your sleeve, and it had made something bloom in your chest, a feeling you’d quickly tried to squash down.
“I know I’m not allowed to be out this late, but…”
You couldn’t tell if Peter was considering agreeing or not until he threw you a soft smile, tightening his hand on yours. You both were quiet as he led you through the wing and down the stairs. You didn’t know where Steve was, but you knew that if he came out like the boogeyman, Peter would protect you.
He always did.
It was so much cooler with the sun down, the half-moon taking it’s place. You really loved the pond, and so you weren’t surprised when Peter started to lead you there the moment you both made it outside. You kept looking up at the stars, recalling how while living in the city, you hadn’t been able to see them. It was something you always envied rural areas for.
“You’re like a little kid, sometimes…”
You looked at him at that, sitting down.
“Always need to come outside and play in the grass and see the water,” there was a smile on his lips as he grinned down at you. “It’s cute.”
You wanted to tell him that being trapped inside for days on end would do that and what else did he expect? However, proving what he said to be true, your thoughts were clearly all over your face.
“I get it,” he exhaled, lowering himself next to you. “Of course, you’d want to be outside all the time.”
Peter reached up, brushing his fingers along your cheek.
“…but you understand why, right?”
He continued before you could say anything.
“To keep you safe. To keep all of you safe,” he told you. “There’s so much that could happen to you out here, and…”
He trailed off, but you finished for him.
“You don’t trust us… Me.”
Again, you didn’t know what Peter or Steve expected from you. If you’d wanted to make a run for it so badly, you would’ve tried already.
“I know you would never,” Peter whispered, taking your face into his hands. “…but just think of what would happen if you did manage to get away and tell anyone.”
He frowned at you.
“It would take a miracle for them to believe you, and on the off chance that they did…”
Peter sighed, a sad sound, and now you frowned.
“Imagine what would happen to Margaret and poor Sarah. Growing up without her dad? Her uncles?”
You looked down at that, having never thought about that before.
“…and Jane would be heartbroken without Thor. It would be so hard for her to move on. I don’t think she ever would to be honest.”
No, you never had any intention of escaping, but these were things that had never crossed your mind. God, you hated Steve. You hated and feared him more than anyone in your entire life, but from what you’d seen, he thought the world of Sarah…and she adored him just the same.
You shook your head, not wanting to think about that.
“I’m not saying you would…just something to think about.”
“I know,” you mumbled.
Peter tilted your head up, his dark eyes searching your own.
“You wouldn’t…right…?”
“Of course, not,” you quickly assured him.
He stared at you for a long while before nodding.
“Good,” he murmured, leaning in. “I would be really hurt to think that you would.”
Peter kissed you then, and you didn’t kiss him back.
At first.
His lips were so soft against yours, they always were, and you hated that it was something you noticed. You noticed a lot of things about Peter lately, most of them when he was touching you. You noticed how toned he was. Not as muscular as Bucky or Thor, but enough to tell you that he could hold his own with the rest of them, could hold his own against you if need be.
You noticed the way he always needed to touch you. Not even sexually, but just to feel you and confirm that you were there. He liked brushing his hand over your back at dinner or resting it on your thigh. He liked walking up behind you in the kitchen and touching your waist or resting his chin on your shoulder.
He especially liked bathing with you, taking it upon himself to clean you and look after you, like it was his responsibility to make sure you were well cared for in the best way possible. Especially after sex. Peter loved cleaning your skin and holding you while you caught your breath and telling you that you were okay. The contrast of how roughly he could thrust into you and hold you from how gently he cared for you when it was over was great.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered into your shoulder.
The night air had you shivering as he undressed you by the pond, and your movements were hesitant, almost refusing. You were outside, and even though you weren’t right in front of the house, it was still within view. The thought of someone seeing you made you shrink in on yourself.
“Peter…”
“It’s okay,” he murmured against your lips. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.”
You gasped when he pushed himself into you, stretching you out slowly. Your fingers pressed into his arm and back, thighs opening for him as he pulled his hips back. Peter loved having sex with you, and you guessed that if he had it his way, he’d be inside of you all the time.
You hated that you didn’t hate it.
You could feel yourself relaxing beneath him, letting yourself go on the grass. It really did feel like it was just you and Peter whenever he was inside of you, curving his hips into yours and forcing moans from your lips despite how much you wanted to swallow them down. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but you thought to yourself—who cares? It’s not like Peter didn’t know how much you needed him. You’d made that clear the day you’d almost lost your mind at him having to go back to work.
You made it clear when you couldn’t even make a decision without looking at him first. When you couldn’t sleep without him. When his mere presence put your heart at ease. In this nightmare, you needed Peter, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He groaned at that, leaning in to kiss you again.
“Atta girl…”
When his lips trailed to your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses, you turned your head. The house wasn’t completely dark. It was still kind of early in the night, so, you wouldn’t expect it to be. However, what was unexpected was a figure standing in an upstairs window. It was in a different wing of the house than yours, and you blinked in shock at the sight. A shudder of fear traveled through you, and you turned your head towards the crook of Peter’s neck…
…trying to block out the unmistakable sight of short blond hair.
#dark!peter parker#dark!peter Parker x reader#dark peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker#peter parker imagine#peter parker fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction
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✿༝༚༝༚ Wrapped in red ✿༝༚༝༚
・❥・Kuroo x reader
・❥・synopsis-> hey siri, what are the consequences of surprising your fiancé with a lingerie under a coat for his birthday?
・❥・ word count-> 5.6k words (nobody look at me)
・❥・content warning-> mdni, explicit smut, fem!reader, cun!lli!ngu$
・❥・a.n -> this is the last time I'll be reposting this if tumblr still doesn't like me I got nothing to do. Tagging a bunch of my mutuals so that atleast they can enjoy. may your cheese rot tumblr. Also happy kuroo day ignore I'm this late everyday is kuroo day stfu. dividers by @cafekitsune , @benkeibear and @quirrrky
Kuroo can feel the chills of the winter already settling in mid-November. The expanse of his living room is veiled with a thin layer of frigidness. The tiles were cold and a siren of silence rings through till the ends, until the little clock resting on the small table breaks through the curse with the beginning of a new day. 17th November. He stares at the clock. The slick hands points to 12, busy announcing his 29th birthday. It is a small, black, cat shaped clock that you found from god knows where and gifted him out of blue. Your justification being “it looks like you”. Kuroo snickers at the sudden wave of memory.
A whole lot of other things around his house are also extensions of you – the little section of potted plants on the shelves, the matching coffee cups, the red mittens hanging over the oven handle, kitchen magnets comprising pictures from both of your trip to Paris. They all are like pockets of your shadow scattered around, giving little hints of the day when you’ll ultimately mark your reign as the Mrs. of this house.
But as of tonight, each of them wildly indicates your lack of presence. Kuroo discerns that the silence was not any call of winter, rather it’s the sheer absence of your chortles and excited squeals around the house, especially tonight.
Kuroo was never that big on celebrating his birthdays, being on a competitive position in corporate asked for lot of compromises and Kuroo had wired himself to do that in his early years on job, not caring about forgetting his birthdays and stuff. Still, he manages to dig up time when it comes to yours or others. The man that he always is - relentless in his acts of services.
However, you being around never quite made it possible for Kuroo to actually forget about his day. Always the more excited one, the best planner and as always, a little better than the previous years. Whether it be by throwing a grand party in a club for him or just by yourselves, with home cooked mackerel and rice, catching the golden sunset above and just savouring the day with a casket of good memories to look back on. Or it may be simply you by his side that makes each of his birthdays something to look forward to, even while being clutched by stress and non-stop work.
He was indeed getting spoiled by such pampering because, as of this moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to be around you. To bask in the incessant warmth of your hugs and engulf himself in the pool of your kisses. Fuck. he really wishes you weren’t drowned in your work right now just so your singsong voice of Happy Birthday could reach his ears the first. He peers at his phone, several texts from his co-workers and friends wishing him were flooded in his notification bar, along with your last text, sent over an hour ago.
Love♡♡ : work is so crazy right now, they should pay me for even gracing them my time this late >:(( anyways, good night. love you tets <;33
Nothing after that. He stares at the text. You weren’t online which meant you are either too busy in work or have already fallen asleep…without wishing him?
A small twinge of hurt pinched his heart at the thought of it. Although he tries to reason it with your pressure at work. But it’s been like this for a few days, you completely submerged in work, barely getting the chance to even facetime, not being overly zealous atleast 3 business days before his birthday.
The little red demon above his head tries to play tricks yet his heart works with rationale – leading two projects at the same time meant things will slip up. Distance may be bound to form. Who knows? even paths of life may deviate from one another and eventually-
His train of thought cuts short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. It’s 12:30 already. Kuroo internally pleads that it’s not some surprise by his former teammates because without you, he doesn’t think he will indulge even a slightest bit.
The door swings open and so does kuroo’s jaw. You, in your full glory, a ginormous beige jacket wrapped all over you, hair dishevelled from the wind, yet framing the most beautiful face in the world, stand at the threshold, panting and holding a large box of what seems like a cake.
“Oh my gosh tetsu, I was almost about to punch the baker. Dumbass messed up my whole timing”
Kuroo was still busy steadying himself but he shifts from his place, allowing you to scoot past him and settle yourself in the dining seat, placing the cake there.
Weren’t you asleep? Weren’t you way too busy to come? What is going on?
He looks at you, making yourself comfortable at his space, like you are just meant to fit inside these 4 walls. The frosty silence suddenly vanishing by the cauldron of warmth you bring with you everywhere. He can’t wait for the day when it will be regular sight.
“Baby, are you gonna stand there the whole night?” you giggle, striding towards his still figure beside the doorway. You hook your arms around his waist, your head tipping back as you stand on your toes, planting a soft kiss over his lips.
Kuroo’s eyes flutters shut as he draws himself into every fleeting moment of this kiss. His hands find your cheeks and large palms cradles them as gently as a rose petal, head dipping down to take in more of the feeling of your lips against him. The taste of your cherry balm engulfing him.
You part from him, merely inches away as your lower lips bruses against each other. You whisper into the small gap, “Happy Birthday, my love. I’m not too late, am I?”
“Doesn’t matter when your wish is what makes it worth. I almost thought you forgot” he hums, hands curling up against your neck, urging you to look at him. You crane your head up, meeting those honeyed eyes pooling with a multitude of emotions.
“Awe you miss me that much? I have been real quiet this year on purpose. Trying something a little different”, you cheekily say, poking your tongue out. Kuroo quirks an eyebrow, “always a step ahead, aren’t you?” he pecks your forehead while a small whisper of “I love you. Thank you for making this day something to look forward to” grazes over your skin. Your feel the kaleidoscope of butterflies zooming inside your ribcage, for the way his words echoed through the drums of your heart. As if the resonance between his and your heart just created more love to harbour.
"Tetsu", you grab his face, dipping his tall frame downwards to place another kiss. This time between his eyes. Hoping this kiss was equivalent to the million words he said with those gaze a few seconds ago.
You take his hand, pulling him towards the cake, “now now, it’s not the time to be all mopey. I fought for this cake and now you get to commemorate this day of high significance”. Kuroo chuckles, you were full of beans indeed.
To think just a few moments back his thoughts were spiralling, he registers that that how much you being by his side grounds his inner monologue of hidden insecurity. Kuroo is always the epitome of confident man but the inner cloud of anxiety yet rumbles time to time. Until, your presence acts like the yellowy sunshine after rain, banishing any grey thoughts that dare to delude him.
“Why such high significance, may I ask?” you roll your eyes, amusement twinkling in your eyes and you answer like this is the most simple question ever, “Because you got to be born and be my boyfriend and then my groom-to-be, duh”, wiggling the left ring finger, you laugh. Shaking his head, he tunes into the peals of laughter with you. He cuts the cake, feeding you a piece before noticing you were still in your coat.
“Baby, are you that cold? You know you could wait a bit more for your winter cloth haul” he gestures at the neck high coat. You squirm a little. He finally noticed.
“y-yeah, I know. there’s a…reason”, you send a sheepish smile on his way, effectively avoiding his gaze.
Kuroo reaches towards you, curious at your shift in demeanor. He leans down, meeting your gaze with his ever sharp ones and you found yourself faltering a bit, heartbeat pacing higher than normal.
“Princess, are you okay? you got a fever?” he runs his hand over your forehead to which you shake your head. Taking his fingers in yours, your fingertips glides over his knuckles. Unable to stall in any longer, you slung your arms around his neck.
“Actually, I have your gift”, bringing your mouth closer to his ear as you whisper, “right under”, you murmur. His hand is now brought on your lower back, the feel of your skin right underneath the coat, clearly evident.
Kuroo sucks in a breath, catching on to your innuendo immediately. Palms migrates towards your shoulder blades where he can feel the thin strap and bare skin over the coat. Curiosity killed the cat and now he just got fucking murdered.
“Hmmm? Should’ve said it earlier, princess.” kuroo hums, a mellowy timbre coating his voice. You gulp audibly, anticipating his moves.
His hands trail over your shoulders, reaching up and stop around the collar of your coat, playing with the top button as he flashes his Cheshire like smile. Demeanor changing from concerned to smug in a flash of light. You keep your eyes on him, heavy breaths escapes your nose and mouth. Kuroo leans forward, his voice now merely a whisper tickling your ears.
“Should I guess what my present is?” he asks coyly. You can feel the teasing glint the words carry.
“You can open it already, y’know?” your voice had an air of neediness, wanting nothing more than to indulge in his touches and losing yourself in him for the night.
Kuroo tuts, shaking his head in faux disappointment, “tsk tsk tsk. it’s my present, princess. Let me enjoy it. in my way”. With that, he flicks the button open, his eyes catching a hint of red around your neck. A dark chuckle escapes his throat.
“Red, huh? You surely did some homework before”, another button pops open, this time, the base of your throat open up and a little red ribbon wrapped around the middle like a bow greets him.
Kuroo felt his heart thrumming loudly, imagining what he could find after fully unbuttoning your coat. The suspense of the act spiking his blood and rushing downwards towards his crotch, he can already feel himself getting hard. God, you really knew how to outdo yourself every single year.
Kuroo presses a kiss right beside that bow, feeling your erratic pulse against his lips. It curls into a smirk, right against your skin. You tip your head back, eyes closing and hands finding their way to the hem of his shirt.
“Uh-uh, princess. Not so early.” Kuroo envelopes his hands over yours, before bringing them together behind your back, caging you between his hold. His right hand, once again, flits back in its previous mission while his left hooks both of yours ; effectively locking them behind your back. “Not until I’m done unwrapping my present”. A kiss plants underneath your ear; the skin tingling with its effect.
“You sure are taking a hell lot of time” you scorn. Kuroo chortles, popping another button open. This time a part of your sternum peeps out, he can make out the hint of cleavage from the skin exposed. More blood runs downwards and kuroo fights the urge to tear the coat off and bend you against the table to ravage you then and there.
“Good things take time, princess. Moreover, you seem to enjoy it.” Kuroo muses, his hips roll against yours and you could feel the hardness of his crotch brushing up against your lower belly. “Take this as a punishment for being late to my birthday” he opens another button and the lace cupped cleavage makes their way.
“But it wasn’t my fault.” you pout. You’re so adorable, kuroo thinks. He laughs under his breath before pressing a soft kiss against your cheek. His hands trail over your sternum, dipping down towards the fat of tits spilling out before he ghosts over them ever so slightly, drawing a whine out of you from the untouched touch.
“Oh but you were…” he drawls, “to think you went outside like this. Being a naughty little girl, are we now, princess?”. You open your mouth to say something but his lips silences yours. His tongue almost immediately finding its way in your mouth and playing with yours.
The kiss was sloppy with the way kuroo laps at your top lip, engulfing it in his mouth, saliva smears over your upperlips and drips down your lowers. The steamy makeout session in addition to the his hips grinding against your coat covered crotch leaves you staggering.
One by one, he unbuttons the whole coat till the end, each time kissing a part of you he passes in the process, to all the way down, where he is kneeling. He looks above to see your figure hugged by this beautiful dark red fabric, only covering the bare necessities.
He is eye level with your bare thigh, the plush skin adorned by a thin lacy garter, linked to the equally thin panties with a small band of cloth. You feel his hand runs across the back of your thigh, the cool band of your engagement ring gliding smoothly over your skin. The pads of his fingers dip down a little deep when he reaches your almost bare ass.
“Fuck. what I’d do to you” you hear him murmur against your lace clad thigh. He scrapes his teeth against the fabric, peeling it off and exposing the beautiful skin out. The sharpness of his teeth mingles with the softness of his lips as he sucks and nips at the skin, leaving a purple well of mark around that area. Your breath hitches as you feel the dull throb of the hickey while he continues his ministration all over your inner thighs.
“We better take this to the room before I end up taking you right here” his teeth still ghosts over your skin, now attaching around the band of your garter, tugging it gently before releasing it back, the elastic smacking your skin, causing a whine to tumble out your throat. His actions causing your pussy clench around the fabric.
He continues his journey up with his mouth before reaching your pussy. The material doing nothing to hide the outline of your cunt and looking closely enough he sees the dampness that is caused by your arousal. His fingers join in, smoothing upwards over the fabric gently. A moan leaves your lips, with the way he is being tantalisingly slow. If you could, you would have shoved his fingers inside.
“Already wet and I barely did anything, baby. Wait for the real action atleast” his voice sardonic and praising simultaneously. He plants a kiss right over your crotch before trailing upwards.
“Tetsu, you little-” you whine to which kuroo snickers. He loves you to death but he loves it more than anything when he is edging you and you are writhing and pleading.This is when he gets the chance fill you to brim with pleasure. The power surge he gets from this is immeasurable, when nothing leaves your mouth except his name.
“What, my darling?” kuroo kisses below your navel, his lips smoothing over the surface with no friction. He peppers your stomach with nips and kisses before reaching under your breasts. A small kiss between the valley of your tits and then he finally rises up. He caresses the sides of your breats before holding you by your waist, squeezing you gently,pulling your figure flush against him. His hardened member now rocking against you with less obstruction.
Kuroo tugs the coat off of your shoulder and it pools around your ankle, revealing your whole set to your fiance. Kuroo gawks at your figure, as if time stopped its track for him to drink your body with his eyes.
“God you’re fucking beautiful” his voice low and husk filled. Kuroo peppers kisses on the curve of your shoulders, hiking his lips up into the crevice of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses trailing towards your jaw.
You have always been the prettiest for him but this colour on you has popped out every feature of yours in the most alluring, elegant way. Kuroo huffs out short breaths as his eyes find it difficult to tear away from you, he eyes you from down to up before his eyes land on that ribbon.
Oh fuck that ribbon. The way you made yourself like a present, kuroo is positive there isn’t any better gift in the whole planet than the one before his eyes. His lips find you again, passion and lust permeating through the kiss. His hands reach up to your breasts and he gives them a good squeeze. The nipples pert and poking through the cloth against his palm.
He guides your body along with his towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss, stumbling along the way but nonetheless reaching towards the edge of the bed. He pushes you, still connected with your lips, cradling your head before you fall into the heap of soft mattress. His body hovers over yours and one of his knees positions dangerously close to your cunt.
“We gotta take this off before I tear it and that is the last thing I wanna do” kuroo husks, his hand deftly working their way to take off the top.
Not that it did anything to cover what’s underneath, yet as he removes the bra and sees your tits spill out, he couldn’t help but take one in his mouth. Fondling the other one with his hand.
The feel of his mouth finally somewhere on you has you teetering on the edge, you let out out a moan. Your hands rake through his ink black locks while he tugs you nipple with his teeth. His knee presses against your almost bare pussy the sensation spikes your insides.
Your hands reach for his shirt once again, urging him to take it off , to which he obliges but not before remarking something about it.
“Can’t wait to see me naked, guess I can indulge in your desire a little bit”, you roll your eyes. Smug bastard. You feel him shift downwards, his knees touching the floor while leaving you sprawling on the bed, he adjusts your legs around his shoulders before scooting downwards.
His hands plays around your nipples, twisting and turning while his mouth travels south. He lets his teeth do the work, pulling at the underwear and tugging it off of you, finally letting the sight of your clenched cunt soothe his eyes. The way he keeps a unbreaking eye contact while doing the dirtiest of act makes your arousal seep down your cunt even more. He tugs the panties halfway through before teething at the garter again, slowly dragging it across you skin and pulling it off.
“Practising for the big day, princess” he grunts, taking them off of you fully. You let out a light croon, even amidst the unholy acts of provocation, the gentle reminder of your promised near future sends you into a blissful train of thought.
Kuroo’s sharp nip at your inner thigh brings you back. He stares at you with drooping eyes, silently challenging you to not break the contact as he lowers himself over your slit. He licks a stripe of your pussy, the feel of his tongue like millions of fireworks inside your nerves. You silently breath out a gasp while kuroo begins his onslaught of kitten licks over your cunt. Gradually reaching to your clit. He presses a kiss over the nub before capturing it with his mouth, gently sucking on it.
His tongue flicks your now swollen clit as you rock your body, bringing him closer, as if it’s anyways possible. Your mingled sounds of squeals and moans and whines mixes with the soft squelch of his fingers entering you. He prods them gently over your walls, knowing where to stretch and poke to evoke the most raw reaction from you.
“Tetsu…fuck...aah..” your voice are nothing more than little tufts of breaths as he shifts his pace every so often, while never leaving your puffed clit unattended. The alternate of his tongue and fingers works wonders to roll you over the edge.
“Cum for me, baby” you hear his raspy voice vibrating across your skin, he sloppily makes out with your slit before driving his tongue inside, his face tilts as he tries to reach as deep inside you as he can. The grip of his hands on your thighs tightening. His cock feels heavy and the burning desire to replace it with his tongue flames his inside – but not before he makes you cum like this atleast twice.
Two of his fingers drum over your clit while his tongue prods inside you. His jaw hurts but nothing matters when he gets to see the expression he draws out of you. Mouth falls open, while your head tips back. Not giving a damn about keeping eye contact because fuck if you could have exploded out of your body, you would.
Kuroo groans at the irresistible feel of your essence around his tongue, “tastes so good for me”, he hums around your pussy. You could feel the wave of arousal waiting to burst and as you hear the words escape his mouth, your body reacts on accord. Back arches beautifully as you release yourself against kuroo’s lips.
Your mind levitates in the cloud of bliss while you feel Kuroo laps at your essence, the drag of his lips against you too euphoric. to joyful to get down from. But even while being on the daze, you feel Kuroo going at your pussy once again.
“T-Tetsu…hnnggh”, you can feel the added force that his tongue applies as it drives inside you once again.
“You thought I’d leave you to come around my tongue only once.” he rasps, his nose brushes against the overstimulated clit. He nuzzled himself against your cunt, his hands reaching over your ass and kneading the soft flesh. You let a wanton moan, too loud for the neighbours to not hear. Kuroo smiles, tongue thrusting inside your cushiony walls even more.
You could feel your body quivering, preparing itself for another wave of orgasm not long after the previous one. You tug at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. Your other hand grabs at your breast to hold onto something. A sight Kuroo savours from behind his bangs that cover his face.
“I’m gonna…” you whine, thighs jolting around his arms while he keeps them locked. “Make a mess around my face, darling. Let go.” Kuroo was getting delirious at your taste. His cock nearly bursting his load in his pants. He rubs against the board of the bed, releasing some friction. He can sense your orgasm looming and naturally, he increases the pace, tumbling you over the edge for the second time. His teeth grazes the clit, giving it some attention before a harsh suckle has you going for the 2nd time that night.
Your back arches, juices spraying out of your pussy. Kuroo is enthralled seeing you this dirty, this sexy, this sinful. You didn’t hold back your sounds either, sweet melodies of his name with pleasured moans ringing throughout the room and satisfying Kuroo’s ears as he succeeds in making you spent.
Not that he intends to stop yet.
Your body is still quivering, the afterwave of the pleasure still gushing inside your body. Kuroo caresses your thighs and hips, coaxing your body to relax.
“You did so well, my sweet baby. looking gorgeous cumming around my face like that”, kuroo engulfs your mouth, his tongue shoves yours around and you decide to suck the tip of his tongue, relishing in the tangy essence of yours. A moan erupts from the man above as your wrap your hands around his sculpted back, losing yourself in the kiss.
Kuroo helps you get down from the high before flipping you over. You notice the way he positioned you both, you are right in front of the dressing mirror.
When did he even do that?
Kuroo kneads your ass from behind, while another hand grabs your chin to make you look at the mirror.
“Eyes up there, baby. Watch how I fuck this little pussy into oblivion”, you can feel his clothed cock grinding against your ass. Whimpering, you wiggle back, feeling more of him, causing Kuroo to suck in a breath.
“Behave, darling.” Kuroo lightly smacks your ass, watching the flesh ripple and groaning at the sight.
You look over your shoulders at him. He looks so broad, the toned sculpture of his long hours at gym and sports really gifted you with a goldy sight. His face flushed with crimson and copper eyes blown out with lust. The contour of his abs to sexy to not gawk 24/7. His sweatpants are already hung low, cock whipped out, hard and swollen. The tip angry with precum dripping down the globes of your ass. You try to shift back, intending to return the favour he generously gave you a while back.
But Kuroo , not-so-gently puts you back on your position, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you against the sheets. Your ass hiked up more to flash the clenching pussy in the air. The cold draft blowing around your sticky folds making you shiver.
“Tetsu!” you exclaim, as he starts dragging his length over your folds, adding more of his arousal with yours, the spot lubed and moist for Kuroo to slide right in.
“What did I say about behaving, princess? Are you looking for to get punished?” his voice dark and menacing, only reserved for you, in the bed. You shake your head, eyes locked with his through the mirror. Your nipples brush against your sheets with the way you are bent, adding more to the sensation.
You try to tug off the red ribbon, not wanting any ounce of fabric on your skin when kuroo grabs your hand, harshly. Hooking it over your back, he hikes your body up a little higher, his cock straight against your fold, the tip hitting snug the clit. His eyes are narrowed, eyes a little menacing,
“Don’t you dare take that off. This stays on.” his voice low. You mewled an okay, too entranced with the way he looks behind your back to notice his manhandling.
“That’s my girl”, kuroo hums before sliding inside you with ease. The remnants of previous shenanigans making it easy. Your mouth falls in a O as you feel the ridge of his cock gliding past your walls. With each of his inch bottoming inside you, you let out a moan, voice deliriously filthy. The sounds like a dulcet for him.
He rams the last of his inch at once, making your body lurch forward. Your face scrunched in a beautiful frown, teeth digging at your lips. Hair falls over your face as you dip your head down to adjust to his size. Kuroo becomes too busy admiring your features through the mirror. You look like a goddess, a goddess he brought down on her knees before him.
He was probably too enticed because it wasn’t until the roll of your hips around his pelvis that dragged him down to where he was. “T-tetsu. movee” , he hears your plead.
“As you say, baby girl.” kuroo starts drilling his cockinside, sliding in and out of you, the head colliding with the gummy walls near your cervix. You were pushed forward with the intensity of his thrust yet the feeling of his prominent vein grinding inside your wall was too heavenly to complain.
It was him and you, intertwined with each other, knocking the door of lust but beneath it was promises of love.
The grip of his fingers around your hip was deathly. It sure is gonna leave a dent. Kuroo grunts and groans as he watches the base of cock froth with both of your juices. The squelching sound everytime he enters you fills the room along with the slaps of the skin.
You could feel his balls hitting you right above the clit, light strokes against them making you dizzy . His hands snakes around your stomach, reaching your clit. He takes the nub between his two fingers, rolling them around and pinches it. You squeal at his actions, back bending away from him, but the grip of his arm around keeps you flush.
“Your pussy is made right for me. Almost made me bust a nut the moment I slid my cock inside, sh-shit. so fucking tight and clenching” , his words are so vile, yet so sweet to hear. He bends down, back flush with his chest as he presses a hoard of kisses around your nape and shoulders. Suckling the skin and leaving out purple marks in its wake.
“Tetsu..more…you feel so good against me” you cry, eyes rolling with the way he is snapping his hips against yours. The constant assault over your g-spot inside and the clit outside once again announces the impending avalanche.
“More you say? Greedy girl.” he rasps before hoisting you up, one hand still playing with your clit while the other finding your left breast.
Cupping the whole fat of it, he squeezes the mound hard. His hips unrelenting with their strokes. The bed creaks from the sudden movement. The headboard banged against the wall once. Now the neighbours are definitely gonna know.
“So fucking beautiful. Truly the best gift ever, princess. I love you so much”, you turn sideways to face him, his molten amber eyes mirroring the heart eyes you are sending him across.
You capture his lips in a soft kiss, your hands reaching his face to cradle the sides and pulling the front tufts a little. Vibrations of hums and moans share between you two in the kiss, while both your bodies work on their own accord. The golden light of the lamp falls over your skin, the golden iridescence reflecting of your skin makes you nothing less than a fallen angel. The halo like glow of your body makes Kuroo's heart gallop loudly. Makes him wonder how he managed to find someone as perfect as you are.
“Look at the mirror. See how ethereal you look while taking me like that. God really took time while making you” , you chuckle at his cheesy words. No matter how dominant he acts in bed, at the end it was still your dorky, corny Tetsu.
You zero in the way he fucks you, the outline of his cock visible as he drills into you. A dragged moan fills the air. kuroo kisses around your temple, his thrusts erratically hits you, losing rhythm. You realise he’s close, so you arch your back, feeling more of him inside. Fucking himself inside you.
Kuroo hisses at the act, his fingers pinching your clit in return. Your walls clamp around his shaft, making him lose all the threads he had been holding onto ever since he buried his face in your cunt.
“Shit, baby...take me…take all of it. Let's cum together”, his babbles choking in his throat as he thrusts in you one last time before warm ropes of his cum fills your pussy. You came around the same time, pooling his thighs with hot, sticky mess.
He kisses you throughout the high, a level of euphoria never felt before. He realises he didn’t use any condom today neither did you retorted against it. Kuroo slides out of you, your cunt clenches from the lack of his heavy cock. He gently lays you down, bringing a wet towel and cleaning off the spilled cum from your thighs and his. Your face beams with the post-coital bliss as you spread your arms over your head, breathing heavily.
“You good?”, kuroo asks, his voice regaining the gentle hold back. You nod, closing your eyes and relaxing yourself.
“If I knew you’d go this crazy over a lingerie set, I’d have thought it through before buying.” you breathily say, seeing Kuroo’s face turn a little red. The debauchery dawning on him a little.
“You could wear an overalls over a trash bag and I’d still fuck you the same. It’s you who’s this hot”, Kuroo plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek, his hands smoothing your hair. He scoots you over, finding himself a space beside, pulling you against his side. His fingers work through your scalp while you find warmth in his body.
The comfortable setting almost lulling you to sleep before you lurch up, face palming yourself. Kuroo sits back, concerned at your sudden leap, while you look at him with guilty eyes.
“I forgot your actual gift at home, while being too excited for this one.”, you hide your face between your palm, whining and falling back on his chest. A hearty laughter rolls out of Kuroo at your state while he rubs your shoulders. His mind already bent on to tease you.
“Wanna suck me off to balance that out?” kuroo sends a sly grin your way, his voice holding a glint of tease but really not expecting you to wallow in.
To his surprise, you part away from his chest, face filled with a challenging gleam. Without any words, you straddle him, holding his cock by the base. A dopey smile spreading all over your face.
“Say less. I’ve been meaning to do that since forever.”
a.n-> aint nobody leaving the house without giving him a sloppy. if tags dont work and it flops then im giving him an even intense sloppy
comments, likes, reblogs are appreciated
tagging : @stsgluver , @kuroosexuall @shotorus + @satoruhour @hannzai @tetzoro @mrs-kurooo @quirrrky @pastelle-rabbit @planetnini @selarina @sookisaurus @itadorey @utahimeow @this-is-still-mia @kamorikiri @shoyostar @screampied-main
#sam.writes#sam.in.hq#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader smut#haikyuu smut#kuroo smut#kuroo tetsuro smut#kuroo x you smut#haikyuu x you smut#kuroo x yn#haikyuu x yn#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader smut#kuroo imagines#haikyuu#kuroo tetsuro#hq kuroo#hq smut#kuro hcs
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STRESS RELIEF — TEASER
Anyways, Stress Relief (my Sanemi-gets-topped one-shot), is next up on my completion list — so have a sneak peek!
I love writing from Sanemi’s POV
CW: none really for this snippet • Sanemi trying to be a good malewife and Reader not having it • this fic will be highly NSFW though so MDNI
Sanemi had seen his girlfriend in various states of being, and he prided himself not only on being to identify what mood she was in, but how best to handle her when she was in said mood.
If she was sad, Sanemi knew she needed comfort, but enough space to not feel suffocated.
When she was angry, Sanemi knew she needed to vent, so he would put aside anything that could distract him in order to give her his full, undivided attention.
When she was sleepy, Sanemi had come to accept Y/N would never willingly put herself in bed, instead preferring to be babied. After several rounds of him telling her to go to bed and Y/N lazily insisting she was not sleepy, and was “one hundred percent awake,” she would invariably fall asleep wherever she had managed to park her ass. So Sanemi would gently gather her into his arms and carry her back to their shared bed, taking care to ensure her phone was plugged in so she wouldn’t miss her alarm come morning.
But when Y/N was stressed?
Sanemi knew to stay the fuck out of her way.
In stark contrast to himself, Sanemi’s girlfriend was not a hot-tempered person by default. Nor was she meek by any means; rather, she was quick to laugh, and an all-around easygoing woman.
However, all that calm rationality went right out the fucking window whenever she was under immense pressure, just as she was now.
Y/N was currently studying for her licensing exam. Apparently, seven years of schooling was still not enough for her to advance in her field if she didn’t pass some stupid national exam that re-tested her on everything she had already demonstrated competency in while at school. Personally, Sanemi thought it was just another excuse to make money off the poor saps who had the misfortune of pursuing her chosen career.
For the past three weeks, Y/N had lived, breathed, and (not) slept for the exam. Sanemi found himself having to constantly remind his girl to eat, stretch, take care of her basic necessities. If she wasn’t clacking away on her keyboard as she made color-coordinated outlines, she was watching review videos, and if she wasn’t watching review videos, she was handwriting flashcards until her body finally gave into its exhaustion and she slumped over at her desk.
Last week, she’d been up so late studying that Sanemi had fallen asleep before he could drag her ass to bed. When he had finally jerked himself awake well after midnight and realized that his girlfriend’s warm body was not cuddled up next to him in their bed, he had found his girlfriend in their tiny living room, still at her desk.
Y/N’s head had been resting on her upper arm and her eyes were closed, but still clutched in her hand was her pen, twitching against the paper of her open notebook. When Sanemi had moved to gently pluck the pen from her loose grip, he had peered down to see scratchy and disjointed inky lines on the paper, he had realized that her hand had continued to move even well after she had lost consciousness, as though taking notes had become mere muscle memory.
The sight had made Sanemi’s heart clench, and he felt an inexplicable urge to lock her in bed for a day just to let her rest. Sanemi knew she was doing this so they could have a better life, together, but he hated to see her put so much pressure on herself. He had thought himself smart for deliberately leaving Y/N’s phone — and thus, her alarm — in the living room, discarded between the cushions of the couch (“so it won’t bother me,” she had snapped when he’d raised his eyebrows in question at her earlier). He even thought she would be grateful to him for letting her sleep in.
What a stupid, naive fucking notion that had been.
Because when Y/N had shot up in bed the next morning, disoriented with her hair in a wild, tangled mess, and she saw sunlight streaming through the window, she promptly freaked the fuck out.
“Do you want me to fail?” She cried, storming around their room, digging frantically through a pile of her clothes as she hunted for a pair of leggings to pull over her bare legs.
“You’re not going to fail because you slept an extra fuckin’ hour,” Sanemi groaned from his place in bed, dragging a hand down his tired face. “You’re gonna run yourself ragged if you don’t take care of yourself. You need sleep, babe.”
She let out a derisive laugh, a slightly crazed look in her eye. “I’ll sleep when I pass this stupid test or when I’m dead. Whichever’s first.”
For the rest of the day, Y/N had been snippy, huffing at every slight noise Sanemi had dared to make. She’d only grown more and more irritated as the night went on, and when he had sighed at the prospect of cooking dinner, she lost it.
“Can you stop breathing so god damned loudly?” She snapped, throwing her pen down in annoyance as she whipped around in her chair to glare at him.
Sanemi stared at her in disbelief for a moment, but he’d never been one to keep calm and cool, so he bit right back.
“I’m sorry that I’m just here, existing, and tryin’ to fuckin take care of ya, Princess. My mistake.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m trying to make sure I get my damn license so I can take care of you,” she simpered right back at him, anger swimming in her eyes. “But I guess that doesn’t fucking matter, does it? No!”
A blush began to creep up Y/N’s neck, a telltale sign she was about to start yelling. “No! Because you think taking care of me means not letting me focus or hiding my phone so that i don’t hear my alarms so I can’t wake up on time, and if I can’t wake up on time, I can’t study for as long as I need to, and if I can’t study I. Won’t. Fucking. Pass!” Her voice had become shrill by the time she stopped for a breath, chest heaving.
Sanemi watched her for a long moment as she caught her breath. “Are you done?”
In the span of a nanosecond, Y/N went from an angry, possessed-looking harpy to a sniffling, teary mess. She slumped back down into her desk chair, lower lip trembling pathetically as she tried and failed to hold in a hopeless wail.
“Okay, okay.” Sanemi murmured, moving across the room to kneel next to his sobbing girlfriend, feeling a slight sting of guilt as he watched her shoulders curl in on themselves under the weight of the pressure she undoubtedly felt.
He had spent the night trying to console her, though without much success. She had alternated between despairing over “the impending doom of her failure” and hiccuping angrily at him for continuing to distract her.
Nonetheless, everything about their future was currently riding on Y/N passing her upcoming exam in a month’s time and his girlfriend was currently one belt-loop snag on a door handle from a full fucking meltdown.
So Sanemi knew the best thing he could do was to steer clear and leave her to her own devices. He could do that for her.
But god damn if the sight of her ass in those shorts wasn’t killing him.
banner credit @ cafekitsune
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#sanemi shinazugawa#kny#kny x reader#kny fanfic#kny sanemi#sanemi x reader
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If you’re interested in writing it, I would love to read a part two of “the one with Chan and the promotion”! It’s so sweet and cute and I go back to it when I feel sad or sick and just want someone to take care of me lol.
aw, i’m so glad you liked it! here’s part two ✨
the one with chan and the promotion pt. ii
you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free.
pairing: bang chan x gn!reader
genre: fluff, hurt/comfort
au: fuck buddies to ?
type: drabble
rating: 18+ — minors do not have my consent to interact with me or my work.
wc: 1.3k
cw: reader’s pov this time!; no smut but it’s referenced due to the nature of their relationship; reader had outpatient dental surgery (not depicted); reference to blood/swelling.
a/n: this is a continuation of this drabble, which @moni-logues requested last year. in order for things to make sense, please read pt. i first! as of 4/21/24, part iii has been requested and will be coming eventually.
navigation. skz permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist. request rules.
Upon waking up, the first thing you do is take inventory.
The list of things you don’t have is the longer of the two: four of the teeth you initially left home with, a blanket on top of you, your bearings, or any substantial memory of the how and when you got back to your apartment.
What you do have is a pair of slippers on your feet where your shoes used to be and a hand in yours, warming your palm. Bleary-eyed, you stare down at the five fingers interlocked with yours while your brain scrambles to load. It doesn’t. You swear you hear the Windows XP error noise sounding off in the back of it when your eyes flick up and find Chan’s closed, fluttering ever so slightly as he sleeps.
You don’t mean to voice your surprise out loud, especially not above a whisper, but it slips past lips still buzzing as sensation returns. “Christ!”
Chan doesn’t startle, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. His roommate, who you’ve heard tell of but never met, is apparently prone to sudden shouting, apropos of nothing. He does stir, though, just slightly.
“No,” he mumbles without opening his eyes. Though he doesn’t witness the quizzical look you give him, he must suspect your confusion, nonetheless. Stifling a satisfied, albeit sleepy chuckle, he jokes, “My English name is pronounced Chris.”
It’s then that his eyes crack open, taking you in immediately and softly, pupils dilating. He’s never looked at you like that before. You don’t know what to do with it.
Flustered, you divert your gaze to your hands the way you always do, only to find that one of his is still holding one of yours. You don’t know what to do with that, either. To cover the fact that you don’t know what to say, you clear your throat, hoping the words will materialize after a bit of stalling. They don’t.
Chan, noticing your preoccupation, interjects and sits upright next to you on top of your still-tucked-in comforter. “Oh.”
He retracts his hand. A sheepish smile spreads in tandem with a flush of red across his cheeks and neck, so heated with embarrassment you can almost feel it from several centimeters away.
“Had a hell of a time getting you through the door and getting your shoes untied,” he starts, laughing awkwardly.
Oh, indeed.
You’d asked Chan to drive you; called him specifically for that singular task because your other, closer friends — the ones who haven’t seen you naked — don’t. On top of their collective lack of licensure, you know them all too well to trust any one of them with wrangling a highly medicated person on public transit. You’d be a liability in and of yourself; your chaperone couldn’t be a disaster, too.
Going into this, you’d believed that Chan had his shit together well enough to get you from Point A to Point B in one piece. You were right. He did, and even though he could have, he didn’t stop there. Not only did Chan get you inside, but he also swapped your shoes for slippers to avoid dragging dirt into your apartment.
He rubs the back of his neck, continuing, “You — uh — well, you wouldn’t let go after I corralled you in here.” The hand fussing with the hair at his nape gestures vaguely around your bedroom, which he’s seeing in sunlight for the first time ever, not unlike the way he’s witnessing you.
Once again, you search for words and come up with none.
There was no expectation of gratitude motivating his powerfully quiet act of kindness. Clearly, he didn’t expect to still be here while you napped off the lingering fog from the anesthesia. But he is here.
“I must have quite the grip when I’m high,” you manage to offer.
A way to ask without truly asking: Why are you still here?
Chan snorts, then he shakes his head while he answers, “Nah, you moved like you were made of jelly. I just didn’t want you to cry again.”
Somewhere, a record scratches. Your eyes go wide, expression otherwise withheld to keep your shock and mortification to yourself.
Again?
Vulnerability isn’t a thing you do. It took all you had to ask for his help in the first place. You’d rather drop dead on the ground than cry in front of anyone, let alone the person you keep at arm’s length and still sleep with on a recurring basis. Absolutely not. There’s no fucking way.
“What?” You croak. Almost as embarrassing as the crying, your dried-out throat and the hoarseness of your voice leave your face burning. You clear your throat again. It doesn’t make a difference. “Why did I cry? Pain?”
Fuck, you hope so. You pray for some yet unknown, minor surgical complication that would justify this uncharacteristic crack in your armor. For some excuse you can lean on.
“Worms,” Chan chirps with a shrug, as if that explanation truly explains anything.
You balk. “I would never cry over seeing a worm. It didn’t even rain this week; there wouldn’t be any on the sidewalk.”
He clamps his lips together for a moment, like he’s steeling himself, trying not to laugh in your face. You appreciate the gesture, kind of. Rather, you would — if he had a better poker face. The one looking back at you instead looks fully endeared, which makes you more embarrassed than his laughter ever could.
“I ran into the pharmacy to grab your pain meds, and when I came back to the car, you were sobbing. I was freaking out, thinking you were hurt or something, but no.” His grin comes at full force. “You were scared that worms may not have best friends.”
Oh, my god.
“Oh, my god,” you groan, this time out-loud. Instinctively, you drop your burning cheeks into your hands, hissing in pain the second they settle. You jerk backwards, yelping, “Oh, my god.”
Proving his attentiveness in real time, Chan shifts closer quickly, like a starting gun has been fired. His hands encircle your wrist gently, prompting you to look at him. Once he has your attention, his eyes scan your face in search of visible injury. A triage of sorts. Worry evident, he checks in: “You good?”
Yes, and no.
Yes, your gums are especially sore now that you’ve put excess pressure on them; but no, there isn’t a mouthful of blood hiding behind your tightly pursed lips.
Yes, you feel safe and cared for with him here; but no, you’re not fucking used to it, and it’s making your blurry brain spin.
How are you supposed to answer that question? You don’t even know which one he’s really asking. Before you say a word, you take inventory again.
What you have is Chan in your bedroom while the sun is still up, fully clothed and above the sheets. He’s here because when he tried to leave, he gave into your small act of subconscious resistance, too afraid of upsetting you. He stayed. He’d witnessed you cry about worms, and he stayed — perfectly still at your side long enough to fall asleep.
What you have is medication to deal with the pain you just exacerbated because Chan went out of his way to pick it up from the pharmacy.
What you have is heart palpitations, a different type of nerves blooming when you realize that dispelling his worry now will result in him taking his reactive touch away.
What you don’t have is the strength of will to lie to someone who looks at you the way Chan currently is, like he may not be able to breathe correctly unless and until he knows you’re okay.
“Yeah,” you eventually sigh. “I am. I’m good.”
In fact, you’re even better when he and his hands choose — once again — to stay.
while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.
skz permanent taglist: @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sourkimchi @stayceebs97
multi permanent taglist: @jihopesjoint @bahng-chrizz, @notevenheretbh1
#bang chan#stray kids#bang chan x reader#bang chan fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan imagines#stray kids imagines#bang chan scenarios#stray kids scenarios#bang chan drabble#stray kids drabble#chan#skz#jade writes#jade’s requests#re: the one with chan and the promotion#kvanity
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The hero knew they'd be found one day.
So they weren’t entirely surprised when they were ambushed in their house, drugged, and dragged off to the enormous castle that they used to call home. But their anticipation didn’t stop the dread from pooling in their gut as they were tossed, unceremoniously, onto the ground.
They stifled a groan, flexing their bound hands behind them as they tried to shake off the last of the sedative in their system. Someone grabbed the scruff of their collar and yanked them up to their knees before pulling down their blindfold.
They blinked several times at the ground, squinting through the sudden change in light. As their vision cleared, the marbled pattern of the throne room's floor came into view and they involuntarily stiffened.
"Dismissed."
Fuck. That voice. The cold, cutting power laced in every syllable, the venom in each word that had haunted the hero's dreams for years, even after they escaped. Or so they thought they did. The hero's mouth went dry.
They kept their gaze trained down, hearing the guards behind them leave and close the doors with a harsh, resolute click.
Silence stretched between the hero and the villain, who sat languidly on the throne in a grotesque show of vanity. Of pride.
After a moment, the villain sighed. "So you thought you could get away."
The hero swallowed, hard. "I guess I was just playing hard to get." They hated how unstable, how hoarse their voice was.
The villain chuckled dryly. "You, my prized possession, the greatest weapon I've ever had the pleasure of crafting, were just playing hard to get." The hero heard them shift in their seat. "I'm sure that's a fantasy you'd love to be true, but I knew you'd run. Did you really think I haven't dealt with this before?"
"Guess I thought I'd get lucky." The hero looked up then, to stare the villain straight into their eyes.
The villain held their gaze and smiled, flashing teeth. "Unfortunately, even the most precious treasures are always found at some point." They tilted their head, brow furrowing. "Come here."
The hero did not move.
The villain tapped a finger, and an invisible force pulled the hero taut, dragging them towards the foot of the throne. They grit their teeth, knowing better than to struggle, but hating the agonizing memories that flashed through their head of when they used to fight back, of what the villain was capable of beyond simple commands.
"I see you've grown into disobedience after so many years," the villain tutted. "That's certainly fixable, but what I want to know," they dragged a hand through the hero's disheveled hair, who shuddered at the familiar touch, "is if you still remember what I've taught you." Their touch suddenly turned sharp as they grabbed a fistful of—
The hero's body reacted to the pain before their mind did, and they kicked their leg around, slamming their foot into the villain's forearm. Apparently they still remembered a thing or two.
They landed on their stomach, panting as they faced the wide expanse of the gilded room before them. The villain crouched down beside them, placing a boot on their back and squeezing the air from their lungs.
"Look at you. You could've had all this," the villain hissed in their ear. They grabbed the hero's chin, forcing them to look up. "You could've been by my side, sitting with me on the throne. But you chose to run and try to become someone who could overthrow me, the very person who created you. You are nothing, nothing, without me."
For the first time since they've been back, fear struck the hero deep in their heart. "Please," they breathed, and immediately realized their mistake.
Begging was a weakness. A crack in the boulder. An infection in a festering wound. And the villain saw it all too well.
"Forgiveness," the villain murmured, honey-sweet, "is for the traitors. Punishment is for the cowards. Which one do you think you are?"
As the villain's hand tightened on their face, the hero closed their eyes, knowing the question had already been answered for them.
#thinking i want to lean more into hero/villain royalty on this blog#ugh i just love the trope so much#hero#villain#hero and villain#villain and hero#hero/villain#villain/hero#superpowers#dark villain#possessive villain#uhh i dont rmb my tags#writing snippet#my writing#villain-enthusiast
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Love & Ruin 2
Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.
Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra)
Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly
Word count: 10k
Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested)
Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)
“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same.
Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.
It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit.
His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing.
The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.
Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl.
He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after.
Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.
But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely.
Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He
He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering.
“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’
Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper.
Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”
Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you.
You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed.
It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred.
Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections.
Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you.
The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror…
Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up.
You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not.
You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface.
Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions.
Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again.
“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact.
It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse.
Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye.
Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her…
Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance.
Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils.
The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head.
Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes.
You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy…
You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.”
Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint?
Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you.
Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.
Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again.
Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan.
So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day.
It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?
Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind.
You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far.
He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor.
Not one of his proudest moments to date.
“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions.
He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.”
“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!”
Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning…
As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?”
-
Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all.
What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead.
“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?”
“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.”
Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.”
Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…”
There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him.
She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist.
Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer.
Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus.
If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working.
At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’
Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?”
They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”
The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament.
The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married.
That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late.
If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe…
A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.”
You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull.
“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way.
Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in.
A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.
Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication.
“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that.
A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface.
“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.
Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned.
“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you. By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy.
“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward.
You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost.
“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.”
The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level.
His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.
The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made.
She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear.
“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?”
Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.”
“…”
Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game.
A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.”
His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.
Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once.
Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.
You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly.
“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking…
“We have a winner!”
The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough…
“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!”
Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.”
He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it…
CRASH
Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.”
“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.”
Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…
“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?”
A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow.
—
“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers.
Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind.
“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.”
A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.”
The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.”
She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”
Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.
But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman.
“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself.
“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding.
You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”
“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.”
One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!”
“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another.
“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!”
You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off.
The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…”
“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort…
The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person.
He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one.
Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you.
The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need.
“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”
His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.
Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?”
You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.”
Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you? Who do you belong to? Say it!”
“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.
“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.”
He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.”
The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it.
Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you!
The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union. Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you.
The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over?
____________________________________
Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you.
When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.
As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.
The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…
He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch.
He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.”
Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore.
For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.”
Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it."
The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?”
You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow.
“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”
The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes.
You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor.
____________________________________
“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.” He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.”
Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”
“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw.
The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself.
“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath.
The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on.
The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged.
Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up.
“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!”
____________________________________
You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there.
You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.”
The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you.
It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free.
You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.”
He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”
In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?”
He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.”
You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.
“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.
His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain.
Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts. His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.
He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit.
“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.
His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.
“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.
You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit.
He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked.
He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.
____________________________________
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon targaryen#aegon the usurper#aegon the elder#aegon ii#aegon x reader#aegon x y/n#aegon x you#aegon fic#aegon fluff#aegon smut#aegon ii fluff#aegon ii smut#aegon ii x you#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x y/n#aegon ii fic#hotd fic#house of the dragon
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Past Love: Part 01 | Tommy Shelby
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Request: No
Fic Type: Imagine
Warnings: Angst, mentions of war, ptsd, miscarriage, assault caused by ptsd, swearing. Flashbacks in Italics.
Word Count: 1,061
PART 02 | PART 03
TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || TAG LIST SIGN-UP
It's Friday evening when Y/N enters The Garrison for the first time in years. It's changed considerably since she last stepped inside the bar, yet she was still filled with a sense of nostalgia as she recalled some of her fondest memories of this place. From her first job as a barmaid when she was 18, to her first drink, beating several of the men at a game of cards, and losing her virginity to Thomas Shelby in the back room they used for storage.
But, of course, with the happy memories came the bad ones. A miscarriage, a wedding that never happened, reuniting only to be separated by war, and then nothing could bring them back together, not in the way they both so desperately desired.
Years have passed since she last saw Tommy, but they kept in touch through letters and telephone calls when one of them needed to hear the other's voice, comforting each other in a way that only they could.
He hasn't contacted her in months. It was not unusual for them to go months without speaking. It just how they are, so she doesn't think much of his lack of communication. Until she received a telephone call from the last person, she thought she would ever hear from.
"Did you know I was always jealous of you?" Lizzie questions her old friend turned foe.
Y/N is reminded of the petty feuds they used to have when they were just girls. The beginning of it all came when Tommy began to act romantically towards Y/N. Tommy was just as handsome as he is now when he was a boy and attracted the attention of all the girls. Most of them were not surprised when he began pursuing Y/N. Everyone could see their romantic connection, the two of them only having eyes and room in their hearts for each other.
Lizzie was the only one bold enough to risk Y/N and Tommy's wrath to come between the pair and gain Tommy's love. It wasn't until Tommy and Y/N's relationship took a turn for the worse, that she found her way in. By then, Lizzie was already getting paid for sex and her friendship with Y/N was long over.
"You and every other girl that fancied Tommy," Y/N responds calmly, ignoring the rapid beating of her heart. "But it all worked out for you in the end, didn't it, Mrs Shelby?"
"You do realise it's always been you, Y/N? He has always loved you and will continue to love you till the day he takes his last breath," Lizzie continues, ignoring Y/N's jab at her.
"He needs you, Y/N. He's gotten himself into some trouble; he's not thinking clearly, he's not eating right, and he's barely sleeping. Everyone is scared for him. I'm at a loss for what to do."
"Is he with you?" She asks, her heart overflowing with concern for her old love, the man she still loves dearly to this day.
"No, he'll return from London tomorrow. He should be here by the time you arrive."
"You're his wife, Lizzie. You're the one who's meant to help him," she says resisting the urge to end the call and begin packing her bag. She still loves Tommy, but she isn't his wife. Lizzie is.
"I am not you. I know about your telephone calls and letters, and I know that when you last saw him 6 years ago before he married Grace, you fucked him. Even then, he was still yours. He's told me several times that if you returned, he'd have you again."
"That's a good enough reason for me not to return." Those words shattered her heart. She's contemplated returning to Birmingham several times and almost did until she found out he had married Lizzie. "As much as it breaks my heart, I'm not going to let him leave you, Lizzie, because he made a promise to you. Just as he did with Grace."
"But he doesn't love me; he loves and needs you. Whatever else you have to say is irrelevant. I'm risking my marriage by asking you to come here to help him because I care about him enough to reach out to the only person he'll listen to," Lizzie says, her voice trembling as she holds back tears. "Now, I'll see you tomorrow." She hastily ends the call before Y/N can say anything else.
As she wanders further into the pub, she finds Lizzie and Tommy quietly conversing at one of the back tables.
As she takes in Tommy's looks, her breathing becomes strained. His skin is pale, he has dark circles under his eyes, his face is thinner than the last time she saw him, and his high cheek bones are more prominent. He looks exhausted, and the look in his beautiful blue eyes is unsettling, reminding her of how they appeared when he returned from the war. Cold and distant.
She recalls the night their relationship ended for the last time. Tommy had been tossing and turning and moaning in his sleep. When she woke him up, he panicked thinking he was back in France again. He had her on her back and was hovering over her, his hands firmly wrapped around her throat, preventing any air from entering her lungs. He didn't realise what he was doing until she was almost unconscious. He fled the house as quickly as he could, filled with shame and guilt. It was the first time Y/N had felt terrified of Tommy. Their relationship was never the same again. Even after he had regained her trust.
Knowing this was all a mistake, she rushed out the door, unknowingly attracting the attention of her ex-lover and his wife. She's ready to get into her car when she hears Tommy's voice.
She turns to face the man she can't stop herself from loving. "I apologise, Tommy; I shouldn't have come," She casts a brief glance behind him at Lizzie.
He surprises her by pulling her in for an embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist as hers run over his shoulders and around his neck.
"I'm glad you're here." He whispers to her softly.
"So am I," she whispered back, peering over his shoulder at Lizzie, who mouths her thanks her before heading back inside the pub, allowing the former lovers to get reacquainted.
TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @forgottenpeakywriter - star-ggirl - @iceman-kazansky - @alexxavicry - @galactict3a - @crispynutella - @il0vebeingdelulu - @nicole-19s-world
Bold means your @ didn't come up when I tried to tag you. Here's a post I found that could help if your not able to be tagged: WHY OTHERS CAN'T TAG YOUR BLOG
Sometimes your blog will be linked after posted but I don't think you get the notification. Tags have been weird lately. I might start putting the tags in the comments. Let me know if you get the notification.
#acewritesfics repost#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader
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Hi my love!
So just a thought a mere idea -- sub top hoshi with a mommy kink
▸ Pairing: subtop!Soonyoung x F!reader
▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp, smut / established relationship
If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.
▸ Warnings: piv, extremely whiny Hoshi, pet names (mommy)
▸ Word Count: 851
▸ A/N: Mars you're so sick for requesting this it was so fun and I can't stand you ilu ig. Thank you @wooahaeproductions for beta-ing! 💜 💚
There’s a fire of defiance in Soonyoung’s eyes as he returns your gaze from where he lays spread eagle on the bed, furiously fisting his cock. He plays up his performance of ecstasy, moaning loudly as he lets his head roll back on the pillow that’s propping up his neck. You cock your head slightly as you lean against the doorframe of your bedroom, but continue to watch wordlessly, committing each of Soonyoung’s sounds and movements to memory.
It’s not long before Soonyoung’s limbs are tight and shaky – he’s not exaggerating anymore. Each time the head of his cock peeks through the vice grip of his hand he hisses and swears, adding perfect lyrics to the sound of lube precum squelching in his grasp. When you catch him peeking at you he drops trying to hide what he wants entirely.
Soonyoung doesn’t ask to cum. He lets his muscles tighten painfully and then relax, groaning loud and deep like he used to before he knew you. Before he surrendered his body – and by extension his orgasms – to you. Before you were there to wind him up into a whiny, needy slut and only find relief when you said so.
The silent conversation between you and Soonyoung ends when his breathing steadies and he lets out a low, satisfied hum as dark brown orbs meet yours once again. This was a demand for attention. Lucky for him, it’s your favorite thing to provide.
“O-oh f-f-fuck! Fuck!” Soonyoung cries as you tweak his nipples, head dropping so you’re forehead-to-forehead.
“Language,” you remind him sternly.
It’s difficult to sound unaffected with Soonyoung rutting into you off rhythm, but hard and right in the spot you need him most. He’s been loving you, worshiping you, fucking you for years at this point; even when he’s delirious with need, he knows exactly how to burrow into yours until he’s all you can think of. Nonetheless, you must maintain as much composure as you can if this punishment is going to be successful.
“S-sorry! Sorry, Mommy, it was-s an-n-n accident.” Soonyoung has been plunging into the depths of your velvet walls for at least an hour now. You’ve already cum several times, but at your order he hasn’t at all, circling atop the whirlpool of orgasm to the point of painful sensitivity.
Soonyoung had demanded attention, but didn’t specify what kind. You’re simply filling in the gaps for him by eeking out every drop of his sanity with your body.
“Mm, I forgive you, baby,” you sigh breathlessly as Soonyoung hikes you up by your hips to roll into you deeper than before.
“Tha-ank you, M-Mommy! Can- Can I-I?”
The laugh you let out barely disguises the moan that Soonyoung’s cock drives from you. “What do you think, Soonie? Think you’ve learned your lesson?”
Soonyoung’s head bobbles above you as he nods feverishly, whimpering as you tighten yourself around him with your question. “Mmhmm!” is the best verbal response he can offer.
Truthfully, you haven’t got much longer before you lose this battle of endurance. Soonyoung isn’t even really competing anymore, but you want to rub his nose in the predicament he’s created one last time before letting go.
So you chastise him even as your climax licks at the corners of your vision. “Where’s my apology, then?”
“‘M s-sorry,” he pants, struggling to pull out of you enough to even thrust with how tightly your pussy is starting to grip around his swollen cock.
“For?” you egg him on, your own voice raising an octave as your climax threatens to overtake you.
Soonyoung’s too far gone to care about your mask slipping or how pathetic he seems at this moment. His tiny grunts and whines are already signaling that he’s lost, ready to completely submit to your will if it might provide even a crumb of relief.
“What are you sorry for, Soonie?” The sound of your voice barely catches him in time to bring him back to your conversation.
“U-um! Uh!” He may be present, but clearly, the searing kiss of your pussy around him has addled his mind.
You start to speak aloud of one of your many rules until Soonyoung starts mumbling them out and you can just mouth along beneath him.
“‘M sorry f-for being a g-greedy slut and…touching – ha – M-M-Mommy’s – nngh – property withou-out p-permission. Mommy!”
You cum around Soonyoung’s length once more and wrap your arms around his back to bring your sweaty bodies together. Soonyoung nearly sobs as you squeeze, forcing your torsos together so all he can do is thrust sloppily into your hole as you finally give him permission to succumb to his release.
“Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!” Soonyoung rushes out before he screams weakly into your shoulder, body seizing up as hot cum fills you with an almost violent force.
The two of you stay together like that for a few minutes, sticky and gasping for oxygen as Soonyoung’s spend begins to leak lazily from your abused cunt.
Soonyoung knows the polite way to get your attention, but sometimes begging for your forgiveness is much more fun.
#svthub#kvanity#soonyoung smut#hoshi smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#soonyoung fic#hoshi fic#seventeen fic#svt fic#soonyoung fanfic#hoshi fanfic#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#bambi.reqs#chogiwapadada
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The Prince and The Fox (4)
[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]
[ warnings: kissing and fluff, just weird teenagers ]
[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]
WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school.Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don’t ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adultin the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I’m writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that’s all you expect, this isn’t the fic for you.
I don’t want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.
Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard
This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood!
Story Music Playlist
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
She and Helaena lay side by side, watching the second and first parts of Shrek, laughing out loud, speaking their favourite dialogues from memory, however, her thoughts kept running back to what happened a few hours earlier. She clenched her eyelids at the mere mention.
They kissed.
She had no idea if that was good or bad.
Did he now think of her as easy to get?
Did he despise her now?
She had a lot of doubts swirling around in her head and for some reason she felt like crying again, even though the experience itself turned out to be incredibly pleasant for her.
It was her first kiss ever.
During the night she couldn't sleep, twisting from side to side, restless, listening to hear if perhaps he was up or walking down the corridor.
There was complete silence.
She shuddered when, a few hours later, her phone's display lit up and vibrated loudly, waking her up and blinding her; for a moment she struggled to open her eyelids and adjust to the light.
After a while she succeeded and unlocked the keypad. She saw with a pounding heart that she had received a message from him.
She swallowed loudly, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, the cold sweat on the back of her neck.
Fuck.
She wrote him back quickly, deciding that just 'no' would sound too dry and might let him think she was angry with him.
He didn't write back for a long time and she was afraid of what he would reply, that he would write back to tell her that it all made no sense, that it was a big mistake and that he regrets that they did it.
She felt like she was about to cry and vomit from stress and fear at the same time, all she could hear and feel was the hard pounding of her heart.
She jumped down on the bed next to Helaena when a notification suddenly displayed on her phone that she had received a new message from him.
She drew in a loud breath, tightening her lips and swallowed hard.
She rose silently, slipping the duvet off her, walking slowly barefoot towards the door. She furrowed her brow as she grabbed the handle and pressed it, the door began to open with an unpleasant creak of wood.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Helaena, horrified, but she merely turned in bed, sleeping on.
She left without closing the door, afraid that another sound like that would surely wake her, and ran on tiptoe through the corridor towards his room. She knocked quietly feeling that her whole body was quivering in terror.
She thought he preferred to tell her what he thought of her to her face.
He opened it for her and looked around the corridor to make sure no one had seen anything, letting her in and closing the door behind him.
The only light in his room was his lamp standing on his desk, surrounding the whole space with a pleasant, warm glow.
She stood in place playing with her hands, staring at the floor, afraid to look at him.
"Did you want this? You know…what we did." He muttered wearily, his fingers rubbing against each other in a nervous gesture.
She looked at him surprised, his face stony, she had no idea what he was thinking. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer, looking at him with her lips slightly parted.
"Yes." She admitted with shame, feeling herself tremble all over.
Silence.
A long one.
She felt like she was about to die.
"Me too. What now?" He asked, as if he wanted her to tell him the result of a maths equation.
She looked at him in disbelief, not believing he had said that. They both seemed extremely surprised by this discovery, by what had happened.
She licked her lower lip, which was almost burning with nervousness, having no idea what to answer.
"I... I don't know. It's probably too soon to… you know." She muttered, and he stared at her in silence, she felt that she couldn't very well convey what she was feeling, what she was realising.
Good God, she was attracted to him.
She really was, but it was too early to talk about a relationship, they barely knew each other.
What was she supposed to tell him?
"I…I just wish I could spend some time with you occasionally. Or just text you. If you feel like it too, of course." She said quickly, lowering her gaze again, feeling like she was in kindergarten when she couldn't express herself properly.
"I like the way things have developed between us over the last few weeks. I don't want to ruin it with unnecessary haste. But I don't regret what we've done." She said finally, lifting her uncertain gaze to him.
She saw him nod and swallow loudly, letting the air out of his lungs, as if he felt relieved, as if he didn't know himself what to make of it all, what to think of it, how to behave towards her now.
"Mmm."
They stood like that in silence, looking away again, not knowing if they should add anything more, she could feel the tension growing between them again, his hands clenched into fists.
"Do you want me to go back to Helaena now?" She asked uncertainly, scratching her shoulder, feeling with embarrassment how much her hands were trembling.
He looked at her and hesitated for a moment.
"…Yeah." He muttered, lowering his gaze, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black sweatpants.
She nodded, feeling an ache in her heart for some reason, knowing, however, that it was the right thing to do. She walked past him and glanced at him standing next to the door.
"Good night." She said softly, looking over her shoulder, his lips tightened.
Silence.
He looked like he wanted to say something else and she didn't know if she should leave or not.
They stood like that for a moment, she heard him swallow loudly, he wasn't looking at her.
"Do you wanna kiss again? Before… you know. Going back to normal." He grunted out in a low trembling voice with difficulty and embarrassment, as if he didn't believe those words had left his mouth.
She stared at him with her eyes wide open, feeling her heart pounding fast, heat spilling over her lower abdomen.
Oh God.
She didn't know whether she was more terrified by his request or by the way her heart squeezed with joy, a wave of heat flowing through her body.
"Y-yeah. Okay."
She muttered embarrassed at how desperate she was, how hot she was at the thought that he wanted to touch her again, that he liked it too.
She swallowed loudly as he drew his hand towards her, looking down at her with his lips slightly parted, his gaze dark and hazy. She gently grasped his fingers and approached him feeling her heart pounding hard, feeling butterflies in her stomach and a pleasant tickle between her thighs.
For a moment they just stood looking at each other, his trembling hand gently slid her hair off her shoulder behind her back. She felt a pleasant shiver at that touch, close, intimate, filled with some kind of affection.
She felt his thumb on her cheek as it dug in and ran over her soft skin, his healthy eye looking at her as if half asleep, dreamy, his warm breath enveloping her face.
He leaned over her and their foreheads touched, she parted her lips slightly in a hastened breath feeling as if they were burning with the desire for him to touch her already, to relieve her.
It seemed to her as if he had read her thoughts, his lips clung to hers in a soft, warm, calm, loud kiss. She closed her eyes and sighed, reciprocating his gesture by placing her hands on the sides of his neck, her fingers trailing along his jaw.
He groaned and kissed her deeper, suddenly clamping his hand in her hair and pulling her tighter, surprising her completely, making her sigh loudly into his mouth, throwing her hands over his shoulders, wanting to feel him as close as possible.
The tips of their noses rubbed as their lips danced and brushed against each other, sinking into each other's soft texture, spreading each other's moisture and saliva, both of them panting quietly, his pleasant, warm breath, his closeness calming her.
She knew she should pull away, that this was supposed to be just one kiss, but instead their lips found each other again and again, their hands stroking each other's hair and cheeks.
He pulled away from her for a moment, pressing his forehead against hers, not letting her go from his embrace.
"− maybe − maybe stay with me, just for a little while longer − if you want −" He whispered in a low, trembling voice, as if he was afraid of what he was saying and of her reaction, that she would laugh at him, that she would spurn him.
Hey, Cyclops, do you have a girlfriend?
She pressed her lips together at the thought that he might have thought he was repulsive for her.
She nodded her head.
"− do you want to lie down? − I - I won't do anything to you −" He muttered, adding a second sentence quickly, afraid she might misunderstand him and get scared. She felt her throat dry up and couldn't get anything out, so she nodded again.
He took her hand gently and set himself down on his bedding, laying on his side, facing her, his head on his pillow. She lay down right next to him, looking up at his face.
He put his hand on hers, stroking it with his thumb, and just looked at her, sighing heavily, as if what was happening now required a lot of effort on his part. She smiled at the thought, and he blinked.
"What?" He muttered, wrinkling his brow, embarrassed, his hand stopped in mid-motion.
"I like you." She said softly, sincerely, warmly, feeling wonderful and safe, never had anyone been close to her like this before, no one's touch gave her such pleasure.
She heard him swallow hard and lower his gaze, embarrassed, his thumb began stroking her hand again.
"I like you too." He whispered softly and looked straight into her eyes, there was something intimate, private about it.
She lifted her hand slowly and touched his cheek, running her fingers over his face as if she were treading water with them, she heard him sigh quietly and closed his eyes, drawing in air loudly.
She moaned as he leaned closer, their lips naturally clinging to each other in a hot, wet kiss, he pulled her to him, she could feel the warmth of his body, the trembling of his hands, his restless, laboured breathing.
She blinked when she felt something in his trousers pulsate hard, hitting her stomach. He drew in a loud breath and pulled away immediately, looking at her shocked.
"− I − I'm sorry − I didn't mean to −" He mumbled out embarrassed, and she looked at him surprised, not knowing what he was actually apologising to her for.
"What was that?" She asked amused, raising her eyebrows and he looked at her with parted lips, she had never seen anyone so embarrassed and horrified before in her life.
He licked his lower lip in a nervous gesture, she had a feeling he was never going to get out what he wanted to say, complete chaos in his mind.
"− I − I think I just like you a bit − too much now − you know what I mean − right? −" He asked uncertainly as if to see if she knew what he was talking about, not believing that she could have been that unaware.
She blinked and pressed her lips together, opening her eyes wide when she realised what he meant, felt her cheeks turn all red and swallowed with difficulty.
"− I − if you're uncomfortable, then go − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to − fuck, God, why −" He growled, pressing his face against his pillow, unable to look her in the eye, clearly embarrassed that he was unable to restrain his physical instincts.
She looked at him in disbelief.
He desired her.
"− no − I mean − nothing happened − I felt good about kissing − I know you won't hurt me − it's okay, really −" She mumbled out sincerely believing her words.
He pressed his lips together, looking at her as if in pain, and sighed heavily, lowering his head back down, pressing it to her forehead, stroking her cheek and hair.
They lay like that without saying a word, just looking at each other, breathing quietly, she felt her eyelids growing heavier as she drifted off into sleep, her fingers trailing over the exposed wrist of his other hand.
"Sleep. I'll carry you to Helaena later." He whispered softly, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers, and she hummed quietly under her breath and closed her eyes, concentrating only on the pleasant touch of his warm hand, his thumb stroking her skin.
She felt safe.
She shuddered, not knowing where she was or what was happening when she felt someone lift her, darkness all around her.
She squealed quietly and he hushed her, stroking her back, grabbing her under her hips, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist and throw her arms around his neck.
"− shush, Foxy −" He whispered, opening his door quietly, walking slowly towards Helaena's bedroom. He stepped inside trying not to make any noise and placed her gently on the bed beside her, looking at her for a moment longer.
He just ran his thumb over her cheek before lifting himself back up and leaving, closing the door quietly behind him.
She fell asleep feeling a pleasant heat in her heart.
She was falling in love.
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#hotd aemond#aemond x fem!reader#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell fanfic#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell smut#aemond fluff#aemond targaryen fanart#aemond targaryen fluff#ewan mitchell fluff#hotd fluff#hotd smut#aemond fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fic#modern aemond angst#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#hotd angst#modern aemond smut#modern aemond#ewan mitchell fandom#aemond fandom#house of the dragon fandom
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@somerandomdudelmao oops my hand slipped
Donnie smiled giddily to himself as he plugged the tiny cord into Casey’s mask, absolutely stoked by the opportunity to analyse and pick apart something of his own creation that he’s never seen before. The technology crammed into every nook and crevice of the mask had him smothering an excited churr, treacherous tail wagging non stop as he wondered what amount of data and information could await him.
He was, for once in his life, so incredibly glad Leo decided to open that big mouth of his. It was, after all, his comment that led to them addressing Donnie’s curiosity and Casey nonchalantly handing over his tech.
His computer takes a suspiciously long moment to download all of the data, and suddenly he’s met by at least three dozen folders and files, all storing incredible amounts of data by the looks of it. The majority of them were labelled in seemingly random letters and numbers, except there was something about it that felt more organised for the purpose of looking random rather than actually being random. He opened one of the folders and was met with more folders, maybe fifty of them, all labelled in various kinds of gibberish.
It took a good minute or two of wondering why the fuck would he organise files in such a way to recognise his simple-but-complicated titling system: the one Donnie’s been implementing into his recording files for years now. His brain began automatically translating the letters and numbers into their actual meaning, while something in the back of his mind screamed that this was an invasion of Casey’s privacy.
Donnie soon realised he folder he’s currently perusing should be labelled with the year, but was instead labelled with a simple 21. Maybe it meant 21 years into the apocalypse? Casey never said how long it lasted, but he did say he’s sixteen, so it’s not too far of a stretch of the imagination that the apocalypse could’ve lasted that long.
He’s clicking on another folder just as he realised the implications of there being recordings stored in Casey’s mask.
He was, essentially, perusing through Casey’s memories.
That was bad. That was an invasion of privacy, and he should absolutely be unplugging the mask and telling Casey about this (assuming he doesn’t already know), and yet.
And yet he doesn’t. And yet he doesn’t unplug the mask and he doesn’t delete the data, and he does select a random file and click onto fullscreen to watch something he may regret seeing.
He’ll only watch one.
Judging from the angle, the camera (probably something stored in the mask) was propped up against something, giving him a decent view of what looked to be some sort of medbay. Someone was lying beneath crisp white sheets on a bed mostly out of frame, and someone else…
…
Donnie was seated at a surprisingly old looking computer, typing furiously away at a speed that’s more than a little impressive for someone with six fingers. He’s hunched over in a way Donnie knew wasn’t comfortable as he worked, occasionally leaning forward and shifting more of his face into the view of the camera. He’s covered in scars of varying severity and age and appeared to have gained several more markings, including three purple stripes that trail from his chin down his neck. He’s significantly taller by the looks of it, and was wearing not only a version of his battle shell, but also his mask and goggles.
It’s kind of like looking into a warped mirror, even though Donnie could only see maybe a third of his torso, the rest hidden by the camera angle. It made the breath freeze in his chest as he watched this twisted version of himself work in silence, eventually slumping in his chair as he stared at the grainy image of his future self.
Donnie - the one in the video (he’s going to refer to him as Donatello for convenience’s sake) - paused his typing and leant forward, furrowing his brow - god he had worry lines - and frowning in a way easily recognisable as his ‘I’m talking to an idiot and I have to be civil about it’ face.
Donnie couldn’t look away, even though, objectively, nothing interesting was happening. His future counterpart was simply typing, working on something while guarding a sick or injured patient. He silently watched at least two minutes of Donatello typing monotonously before something interesting happened: the person on the bed shifts.
Donnie couldn’t see who the patient was thanks to the camera angle, but his curiosity was soon satiated at the awkward little “uhh” sound Casey let out, sounding noticeably younger. Donatello jolted so violently at the sound a keycap literally went flying, and the small corner of his face Donnie could see displayed a very complicated emotion. Donatello was up and exiting the frame in less than a second, presumably grabbing Casey’s arms while a limb from his battle shell extended to grab something above the camera. Casey had just enough time to ask “Uncle Tello?” (oh come on, Leo and Mikey get master but he gets uncle?) before Donatello was speaking overtop of him.
“How are you feeling? Any pain?”
“No.“
“Hungry?”
“No?”
“Thirsty?”
“A little.”
Donnie heard another mechanical limb reach out and grab something, presumably a glass or mug.
“Want to destroy humanity?”
“Is that a symptom or a suggestion -“
“Do you need anything?”
“Umm…” A short second of silence. “Where is sensei? Is he okay?”
Donatello moved to sit on the edge of Casey’s bed, allowing a small portion of his body to be displayed to the camera.
“I remember I attacked him,” Casey continued, and okay, what??
“Yeah, well.” A small sigh. “You didn’t succeed.”
“But I tried,” Casey’s voice wavered, “he’s not mad at me, is he?”
“I don’t think so,” Donatello said, voice both soft and stern. “But he has his responsibilities, so he couldn’t stay here all day - he tried though.”
“Hm.”
Donnie could practically feel his future self panicking through the screen - thankfully, though, he seemed to be saved by the proverbial bell, and faint footsteps became audible as two people rapidly approached the medbay. Donnie managed to catch the end of “pretend I’m dead, and use your brain instead of mine for once” as he heard mechanical doors slide open, light illuminating part of the floor.
Leo - a very much taller and older Leo with a freaking metal ARM - dashed into full view of the camera, and Donnie barely had time to take in his appearance before, with a quick shout of “Sensei!” Casey practically flung himself into the turtle’s arms. The turtle in question looked suddenly very conflicted and concerned as his hands hovered over Casey’s back, listening to his little repetitions of “I’m sorry.”
He seemed to realise that Casey would not, in fact, fall apart at the slightest touch, and gently placed his metal arm (METAL. ARM) on his shoulder, patting Casey’s head with the other. “You don’t need to apologise, Case,” Leo said, sounding like his voice hadn’t aged a day despite the twenty-two years that’d supposedly passed, “you didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you did amazing!”
In one smooth motion Leo was suddenly cradling Casey in his arms and turning in a circle, a movement somewhere between twirling him and just holding him as he spoke, “You were literally too cool for the kraang! How can I blame you? Haha, Casey Jones is now certified cooler than aliens!”
Despite the joyous laughter filling his ears, Donnie felt dread creeping up his spine as their words began to paint a very unsettling picture.
“Maybe even I won’t stand up to him now!” Leo laughed, now holding Casey bridal style in a way that finally displayed his bandages to the camera.
“Pfffhaha!” Casey laughed, smiling so easily despite the bandages and cast covering his arms. He used the arm not in a sling to reach up and grab Leo’s mask tails, tugging on them with a smug smile that matched Leo’s as he successfully blinded the slider.
“Oh no! My only weakness!” Leo crowed dramatically, slumping onto the ground as if bested by a mighty foe, Casey giggling childishly as he slid down to sit in his lap. “Donnie,” Leo said, facing the direction of the purple genius, “can you help Raph lead the resistance instead of me? I think I’m defeated.”
And just as Casey let out another boisterous laugh and Donatello his own amused chuckle, the recording ended, displaying their smiling faces as the footage sat frozen on the last frame.
Donnie exited fullscreen with a slow blink.
Was he misreading the situation, or had Casey been… kraangified?
That… would explain a lot of his scars. Not that Donnie could exactly confirm or disprove his theory, because it would reveal that he knew of and had access to these recordings.
Speaking of which, he really should stop watching these. He really should unplug the mask and delete the footage from his computer, and finish his examination before giving the mask back to Casey with an explanation regarding the footage.
C’mon, Donnie, just exit the fucking files, you’re being insane. This was a ridiculous invasion of privacy and he’d probably try to kill - or at least maim - Casey if he did this to him but god damn it, his hand. Won’t. Move.
It’s like he’s hovering his hand over a hotplate. He had the autonomy and know-how, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t even brush the red hot surface. His hand was hovering midair, only inches away from doing something part of him will inevitably regret, but that’s all it would do. Hover. His eyes were glued to the screen as he scrolled through the files, and god, there were dozens of them - hundreds, even.
Donnie exited the folder and perused through the 21 folder for a moment, before clicking the last folder listed. They seemed to be organised and labelled as different weeks, so this one would’ve taken place around Christmas time.
He clicked on the first file, entered fullscreen and pressed play.
“What? It wasn’t me, I swear!”
~~~
His brothers (plus Casey and April) were just finishing cleaning up after breakfast when Donnie burst into the kitchen, clutching Casey’s gear to his chest and with his purple hoodie slung over one shoulder, shouting, “SHUT UP LOSERS WE’RE GOING TO THE ZOO.”
Pretty much everyone did that slow blink of what the fuck did I just hear, staring at Donnie with expressions ranging from pure bafflement to startled surprise.
“…What?” Leo spoke up, putting down the plate he was in the process of drying.
“I had a revelation while reviewing Casey’s tech,” Donnie started, holding out said gear to the human, “thank you, by the way - it was very informative.”
“You’re welcome?” Casey squeaked, accepting the gear and placing most of it on the table he stood next to.
“But yes - the revelation!” Donnie slid the purple hoodie off his shoulder and began squeezing the fabric as a stim, smile spreading slightly when he saw how Casey eyed the fabric with recognition. “Casey grew up in the apocalypse, yes? That means that he’s missing quite a few experiences we deem normal nowadays, such as eating certain foods or watching certain -“
“Yes yes,” Leo interrupted with a roll of his eyes, “we’re working very hard to introduce him to fast food, science fiction and Lou Jitsu. Your point?”
Donnie smirked triumphantly as he slammed both hands on the table (a little louder than he intended), “Animals.”
Casey blinked. “…Animals?”
“Animals,” Donnie nodded, “what with the those-that-shall-not-be-named rampaging across the world, it’s not hard to assume that a lot of animals would’ve gone extinct, or at least become very rare. Tell me, Casey - have you ever seen a horse?”
“What’s a horse?”
“See!?”
“You don’t know what a horse is!?” Mikey exclaimed, practically materialising in front of Casey. “Even I’ve seen a horse! What else have you never seen before!? Sheep? Cows? At least tell me you know what a kitten is!”
“U-uhm, I do know what a cat is,” Casey stuttered, leaning away from the hyperactive teenager.
“Have you seen one?” Raph asked, giving him a look that said ‘your life as you know it depends on how you answer this question’.
“No?”
“We must rectify this!” Mikey shouted, darting out of the kitchen and ignoring Donnie’s mutter of “why do you know what rectify means but not imminent?”
“We must!” Raph agreed, practically sprinting out of the room. April rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, only to close it as a faint crash could be heard from somewhere else in the lair. She promptly disappeared to look for the source.
“Great!” Donnie said, “Now that that’s settled…” He turned back to Casey, holding out the ball of fabric that was his hoodie, “Wear this. Just for today.”
“Oh, thanks Unc-Donnie,” Casey stuttered, accepting the outfit and promptly putting it on. It fit him almost unreasonably well.
“What!?” Leo exclaimed, and Donnie had the distinct feeling that if he was still holding a plate it would be shattered across the ground. “You’re giving him your hoodie!? You don’t give anyone your hoodie! Not even Mikey!”
“Oh shush,” Donnie said, rolling his eyes and blushing slightly. “I do so, stop being dramatic. Besides, it’s cold out and Casey doesn’t have any winter clothes.”
“Then we can get him some!” Leo sputtered, gesturing wildly as he struggled for words. “Why are you giving him your hoodie!??” he eventually hissed.
“Would you believe me if I said out of the goodness of my heart?”
“NO!”
“Well then, I guess l’ll never tell you.” With that, Donnie walked past Leo into the living room, planning to grab his winter jacket from the cupboard, only to stop as Leo grabbed his upper arm and whirled him around.
“What’s going on with you?” Leo asked, voice low as he gave Donnie a surprisingly concerned look. He searched his twin's eyes for a long moment, taking note of his deep eye bags and his missing mask, and how he adamantly refused to make eye contact. He saw how his hands shook as they were folded against his plastron, and that he looked a little pale and off-balance.
“Nothing.”
“Donnie…” as Leo looked closer at his twin's face, he could’ve sworn he saw dried tears covering his cheeks. But that’s impossible, because Donnie never cried.
His mouth flopped open and closed uselessly for a moment, before Leo finally spat out, “Are you okay?”
His question was enough to startle Donnie into making eye contact. Eye contact with his brother who, objectively, deserved to be asked that question a thousand times more than him.
Donnie’s eyes wandered over to the cracks in Leo’s plastron, held together by fibreglass and covered by resin, and suddenly he was surging forward and wrapping his arms around Leo, burying his face in his neck willing himself not to cry.
They were both frozen for a long moment, before, slowly, Leo slid his arms around Donnie’s softshell and held his twin close. They both felt as Donnie’s breath stuttered in his chest, and as he pressed his snout deeper into Leo’s shoulder and neck. “I’m okay,” he whispered, and they both knew he was lying.
And with that, Donnie withdrew without another word, walking away and leaving Leo to ponder what the fuck just happened.
#oneshot#writing#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt#Rottmnt fic#my writing#rewrittenwrongs fic#dual post
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