#nuptial bliss
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Forgive Me, My Lady, For I Have Sinned
Aemond Targaryen × Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Aemond is mean to his wife. Groveling ensues.
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, terrible smut, oral (f receiving), Aemond is a rascal, slight mean!aemond, unedited we die like men
A/N: heyyyy pookies thank you for being so patient! This is mostly just me practicing how to write smut since im not super familiar with it so just lmk what yall think
It was rare for Aemond to be absent from your shared chambers. Ever since your betrothal, the two of you would sneak through the winding halls of the Red Keep in search of each other’s warmth. It was scandalous, of course, but the Prince simply could not quell his growing passion for you, his lovely little woman. At first, he dreaded the thought of marriage—seeing how his mother was often discarded in favor of a dead woman by his ever-decaying father. It wasn’t until his lone violet eye landed upon your sweet face at the feast celebrating the announcement of your impending nuptials did Aemond feel a surge of protectiveness over you. He couldn’t help the flush of shyness that reddened his cheeks when you shared a sweet smile with him.
The several moons into your marriage had been utterly blissful. Aemond was attentive, often finding himself bending to your every command. In private, he was affectionate; always finding some way to hold or touch your warm skin or sharing tender kisses that left you both breathless and yearning for more. He often threatened lords who would boldly stare at your figure from afar, but he shielded his cruelty from you, not wanting to frighten his little wife. Nearly every night Aemond found himself nestled between your supple thighs, showing you just how much he worshipped you—licking and nuzzling your clit with his aquiline nose, hardened from the sweet moans and whimpers that fell from your lips. The thought of you being only his to please and breed made him feel nearly rabid from arousal—like a dragon with the scent of blood.
Married life seemed to agree with Aemond.
With war looming on the horizon, Aemond felt the increasing pressure beginning to chip away at his sanity. Long, torturous hours were spent locked away in the Small Council chambers and away from your cunt. This particular evening, Aemond was battling a searing ache behind his scarred socket, allowing him to only hear bits and pieces of various war tactics they could deploy against the Blacks. If he had to hear Tyland Lannister bitch about the dwindling funds that come with the cost of war he was going to smash his head in until his pretty golden locks are stained red.
With delicate fingers, Aemond applies pressure to his brow, desperate for any amount of relief.
His savior came in the unlikely form of his brother, the rightful King Aegon II.
“This meeting is adjourned, for fuck’s sake my cups have run dry and I’m in need of a whore.” Aemond rolled his eye at his brother’s vulgarity, but was thankful none-the-less. The only thing he wanted was to crawl into his feather bed and feel his little wife’s warmth, but alas, only he could be so unlucky. The ending of this meeting only means that he has to return to his study and attend to more sensitive matters of the Crown, but he was one step closer to being with his wife.
The fire flickering in the hearth cast long shadows in his study, where he sat behind a large desk made of darkened wood. Countless letters adorned with ornate wax seals littered and ink stained his pale fingers as he continued a correspondence with whatever small house that needed placating, the throbbing in his temples only increasing tenfold.
Sleep seemed to evade you with the absence of your husband, the empty bed next to you growing cold from his desertion. The chill from the flagstones caused you to jolt as you stood up from your bed. You plucked your dark blue silken robe from the plush settee and pulled it onto your frame, tying it at the waist. Determined to catch at least a glimpse of your husband, you opened the heavy oaken door of your chamber and began your search.
The Small Council chamber and library were both empty. Your heart sank a little in disappointment when the thought of giving up crossed your mind.
That was until you spied a glowing light coming from beneath the door to his study. Giddiness tickled the inside of your chest as you entered through the portal and found your dearest Aemond seated behind his unkempt desk.
His eyepatch lay discarded amongst the piles of parchments and his long, elegant hair tussled from his growing frustration, yet he remained just as beautiful as ever. The site nearly steals the breath from your chest.
He did not look up, seemingly deep in thought.
“Husband? Are you nearly finished? I haven’t seen you since we broke our fast and I miss you dearly.” He looked up at the sound of his little wife and sighed heavily before shaking his head tiredly. “Perhaps you would benefit from a bit of rest?”
The inquiry was innocent enough, but Aemond could no longer bite his tongue as the last bit of his withering patience was fractured. He stood suddenly, looking down at you grasped your jaw in a firm grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to startle you.
“Listen to me, Y/N,” he sneered, “unlike you, I have more responsibilities than just being a broodmare, so I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from parading yourself around like a common whore and return to my chambers.”
The cruelty he tried so hard to protect you from spilled from his lips so easily. Your eyes watered as you gasped at his words.
“You do not mean that, my love” you whimpered, tears cascading down your cheeks. You gently wrapped your fingers around his wrist, urging him to release you.
He only pulled you closer so he could growl into your ear, “do you wish to tempt the entirety of the Keep, hm? Should I allow every knight to have their turn with you? Would that sate your desires, wife?” His words dripped with a venom he had never used with you before.
You felt your heart crack painfully as you looked up at him with wide doe-like eyes that shined with unshed tears.
The sight of your anguish seemed to pull him out of the rage that had blinded him so and he released you suddenly. Guilt swarmed his veins and he felt sick that he had been the cause of your pain.
You scrambled away from him, holding a hand over your lips to stifle your cries.
Aemond wished for Vhagar to devour him where he stood. Tears of frustration burned his eye.
You stumbled through the halls, blindly searching for your chambers.
Once in the safety of your room, you collapsed on the settee, sobs wracking your body.
Your chambers were cold and lonely when you were finally lulled into a dreamless sleep.
You sent your handmaids away after they dressed you in a scarlet gown the next morning. You didn’t have to stomach to break your fast as the words from last night seared themselves into your memory. The ache that bloomed behind your breast had yet to subside. Your eyes were red and tender to the touch.
The words from your favorite tome seemed to melt together and you sighed before placing it at your side, content with just watching the flames dance against the stone hearth.
The heavy door to your chamber creaked open. Annoyance ebbed inside you.
“I already told you I do not wish to break my fast,” turning around you were met Aemond looming in the doorway. His eye was wide and shimmered with emotion.
No words were said as he approached cautiously, as if afraid of your wrath.
You only looked down at your hands, which were nervously twisting in your lap.
The proud Dragon Prince of the Seven Kingdoms fell to his knees, resting his head against your thighs. You couldn’t help but tremble in his presence, whether from fear that he would lash out again or from the desire you still had for him.
His warm hands enveloped yours as he pressed delicate kisses to your fingers, the tenderness causing your chest throb in sadness.
After a moment, he lifted his head and met your watery gaze with his own. Slowly, his fingers slipped around your ankle before gently wandering up your calf, lifting the ornate hem of your dress in the process.
Your breath caught in your throat as he reached your knee. You placed your hand on his suddenly, intending to stop him from advancing, but you helplessly felt yourself guide him closer to where you needed him.
Once your thighs were adequately exposed, he pressed spongy kisses to the soft flesh. You could feel the heat of arousal weigh heavily in your lower belly, your breathing coming out as soft pants.
Aemond intently watched your face contort in need as his kisses and suckling traveled towards your slickened cunt.
His leather-clad arms circled around your hips and pulled you closer towards to edge.
He licked a fat stripe against your dripping cunt and you gasped, fingers weaving through his silver locks.
Aemond moaned at your sweet taste, the vibration nearly overwhelming your little pearl. His tongue was soft against you, almost gentle as he continued to devour you.
Your arousal leaked onto the cushions below you as your mouth fell open, his lips circled tightly over your pearl, suckling gently.
Two slender fingers prodded against your drenched hole before fulling sliding in. The feeling of being stuffed with Aemond’s fingers nearly sent you over the edge. His fingers stroked your walls in search of the rough patch that made you see stars.
You moaned and clenched around him as he massaged the spot in a come hither movement. You couldn’t help but grind your hips, hurdling towards your peak at an unrelenting pace. Sweat beaded at your hairline and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head at the intense pleasure only Aemond could give you.
His eye was still trained on you in awe, as if you were a goddess and he a devout follower. In a sense it was true. He would worship the ground you walked on had you commanded him to.
“Cum against my lips, little wife, let me taste you.” His voice was husky with lust and you whined as he sped up the thrusting of his fingers. Aemond’s chin shined from your arousal.
The sight of him desperately lapping against your cunt sent you over the edge, waves of pleasure rolling through you as you screamed his name.
Your vision returned as your peak began to subside, your panting slowing down. You sagged against the cushions, feeling boneless.
“Give me one more, my love,” Aemond pleaded before prodding at your pearly with the tip of his tongue.
You writhed against him, completely overstimulated.
“I-I can’t…” you whined, “ ‘s too much.”
His violet eye darkened, your pleas only spurring him on as dove back in to devour your cunt. Your moans only grew louder as you tried to push his head away, the overwhelming sensation bringing tears to your eyes.
For a moment he allowed to you catch your breath as he spoke.
“I’m going to lick your cunt until you forget the insults I cast against you in my anger. I need you to see how I wish to worship you”, he pressed a kiss against your fluttering cunt, causing you to jolt.
“My sweet wife, you did not deserve my wrath.”
He planted another kiss against your pearl.
“I kneel before you and beg your forgiveness.”
A harsh suck caused you to yelp.
His words touched you. Your gentle, sweet Aemond had returned.
He kitten-licked your pearl unit you felt the familiar coil tighten in your belly, your second peak rapidly approaching. You moaned and wept at the sensations of his lips against you, lust clouding your thoughts.
Your second peak nearly fractured your mind as white-hot bliss buzzed through your entire being, the only thing tethering you to reality was your grip on Aemond’s hair.
Aemond watched his beautiful little wife in fascination as your peak subsided.
Silence enveloped the room once more as you attempted to recover from your husband’s groveling.
Finally, clarity reached you and you were able to consider his words. While you were deep in thought, Aemond smoothed down your dress, but remained kneeling in front of you.
“I cannot find it within myself to forget the vile words you said to me. You hurt me greatly.”
Aemond’s eye widened, but he understood.
“I just need time. I love you deeply and I appreciate your apologies thus far,” you couldn’t help but smirk at your last words. Amusement sparkled in Aemond’s eye.
“Allow me to apologize once more, little wife,” his words were coated in lust. He stood and took your hand gently, before leading you to your shared bed.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen imagine#hotd fanfic#aemond x fem!reader#hotd imagine#hotd#smut
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Unexpected Joy Married!LeonX F!Reader
Author: I hope you guys enjoy this! Truly<3
You and Leon had just gotten back from your honeymoon and you have a pleasant surprise
FLUFF! talk of pregnancy and birth. 8.8K words
You had been back in Raccoon City for a few days, and the weight of reality was slowly settling in after the blissful escape of your honeymoon. The buzzing of city life was a stark contrast to the tranquil seclusion of the island you and Leon had just left behind. But amidst the hustle and bustle, something felt different within you.
As you settled into your new home with your husband, you couldn't shake the strange sensation in your stomach. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was persistent, like a fluttering of butterflies that refused to settle. At first, you attributed it to the excitement of your recent nuptials and the transition back to everyday life. But as the days passed, the sensation only grew stronger.
You tried to brush it off as just an odd feeling, but as you lay in bed one morning, you realized that the sensation was accompanied by waves of nausea and dizziness. You sat up in bed and rubbed your temples, trying to shake off the feeling. Maybe it was just a mild flu or something you ate.
One evening, as you and Leon were sitting on the couch watching TV, he noticed the pensive look on your face and asked, "What's wrong, babe?"
You turned to him, hesitating for a moment before confessing, "I don't know. Something just feels different within me. I can't quite put my finger on it."
Leon's expression softened, and he took your hand in his, "Do you want to talk about it?"
You nodded, feeling relieved to have someone to confide in. As you explained the strange sensation in your stomach, Leon listened intently, his brow furrowed with concern.
After a few moments of silence, he spoke softly, "Have you taken a pregnancy test?"
You froze for a moment, your mind racing. You hadn't even considered the possibility. But as you thought back to the symptoms you had been experiencing, it suddenly made sense. "No, I haven't yet." You let your voice get soft and barely heard.
Leon's eyes searched yours, filled with concern and a glimmer of hope. "Do you want to take one now?" he asked, his hand gently resting on your knee.
You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You and Leon had talked about starting a family, but you didn't expect it to happen so soon after your honeymoon.
Leon stood up from the couch and offered you a hand, helping you up as well. You gently take his hand and smile at him to try and hide your growing anxiety.
"Let's go get a test," he said with a reassuring smile, his eyes full of love for you. "we'll figure it out together."
His words brought you a sense of comfort and relief, knowing that you weren't alone in this. It wrapped around you like a warm fuzzy blanket. You nodded and followed him out the door, still feeling the fluttering sensation in your stomach.
As you walked to the store, you couldn't help but think about the potential changes that could be coming your way. Being a parent was a huge responsibility, and the thought of it made your heart race with excitement and nervousness. You both knew Raccoon City would make it more of a challenge to raise a child in but you knew you'd have Leon there.
Once at the store, you and Leon quickly found the pregnancy test aisle, and he picked out a few different tests for you to try. You felt your nerves getting the best of you as you headed to the checkout, hoping that nobody would notice the items in your basket.
As you were about to pay, you heard a familiar voice call out your name. "Hey, (Y/N), is that you?"
You turned around to see Chris Redfield walking towards you, a surprised look on his face. "Chris!" you exclaimed, happy to see your friend but also nervous about him noticing the pregnancy tests in your basket.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Chris asked, walking up to you and giving you a friendly hug.
"We were just getting some things," you replied, trying to sound casual. "you know? The usual."
Leon stepped forward and extended his hand. "Hey, Chris. We just got back from our honeymoon and needed to restock on some essentials."
Chris shook Leon's hand, his eyes flickering over to the items in your basket. "Oh, I see," he said with a small smile. "glad to see you guys back here!"
You felt yourself blushing, knowing that Chris had likely noticed the pregnancy tests. "Well, it was great seeing you Chris!" you said quickly, hoping to move on from the awkward moment.
But Chris wasn't ready to let you go just yet. "Hey, why don't you guys come over to my place later? I was going to grill up some burgers and catch up on old times."
You looked over at Leon, who gave you a small nod. "Sure, that sounds great," you replied.
"Awesome, I'll text you my address," Chris said, grinning. "See you later!"
As you left the store and started to walk home, you felt relieved that the awkward encounter with Chris was over. But at the same time, you couldn't shake the feeling that he had noticed the pregnancy tests and that the news of your potential pregnancy would soon spread beyond just you and Leon.
You and Leon continued to walk back home, and as you entered your house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The thought of having to face Chris later and possibly having to reveal your pregnancy made you anxious.
Leon sensed your unease and wrapped his arms around you. "Don't worry about Chris. He's just excited to catch up with us. And if he does find out about the pregnancy, it's not a big deal. We were going to tell people eventually anyway."
You nodded, grateful for Leon's reassurance. You knew he was right, but you still couldn't help feeling nervous about the prospect of telling others. "I guess I should take these huh?" You awkwardly laugh as you dig out the pregnancy tests from your bags.
Leon chuckled softly and kissed your forehead. "Yeah, I think that would be a good idea. It'll put your mind at ease." He pulls you into a tighter hug and rubs your back before continuing. "I'll be right outside the door waiting for you baby, I promise."
You nodded and headed to the bathroom to take the tests, with Leon following close behind. You turned into the door and flicked on the light, a small click sound can be heard. The warm light revealed that the bathroom was a cozy space, painted in soft shades of blue and white, with a large frosted window letting in natural light. The tiled floor was cool underfoot, and the white porcelain sink and toilet gleamed in the light. A small wooden cabinet hung on the wall, stocked with various toiletries and essentials. A framed painting of a serene beach scene hung above the toilet, providing a calming presence in the space. The bathroom was small but functional, and you felt comfortable and at ease as you prepared to take the pregnancy tests. You turn to close the door and notice Leon sitting right in front of the door on the opposite wall, giving you a smile of reassurance.
As you took the pregnancy tests out of the bag, you felt a surge of nerves wash over you again. You had been trying to conceive, but the reality of potentially being pregnant was hitting you hard. You opened one of the test boxes and read the instructions carefully, trying to follow them to the letter.
As you worked on taking the test, you could hear the sound of water running from the kitchen sink as Leon washed his hands. His presence gave you a sense of comfort, and you appreciated that he was giving you space while still being there for you. You finished taking the test and set it aside to wait for the results, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety and a slight pang of excitement.
Looking around the bathroom, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the peaceful space. The serene beach painting and soft blue tones of the walls helped to calm your nerves, and you found yourself taking deep breaths to center yourself. The bathroom felt like a safe haven, a space where you could process your emotions and thoughts.
As you waited for the test results, you couldn't help but think about the changes that could be coming. A baby would mean a whole new chapter of your life, with its own joys and challenges. But you knew that whatever the test revealed, you and Leon would face it together.
As the tests processed, you found yourself lost in thought. But soon enough, the results appeared, and your heart raced as you looked at the small screens. Positive. Positive. Positive.
You gasped, feeling a mix of shock and excitement. You sat on the floor for a few minutes, staring at the tests. Your thoughts get interrupted by a soft knock on the door. "Baby?" Leon's voice calls through the door to you. "My beautiful lady? Is everything okay in there?"
You quickly composed yourself and stood up, tucking the tests into your pocket. "Yeah, everything's fine," you called back, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'll be out in a minute."
You took a deep breath and opened the door to find Leon standing there, looking at you with concern etched on his face. "What happened? Did something go wrong?" he asked, taking your hand in his and gently kissing the top of it.
You smiled at him, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. "No, everything's okay," you said, holding up the tests. "I'm pregnant, Leon. We're going to have a baby."
As you looked into Leon's warm blue eyes, you felt your anxiety start to melt away. He always had a way of making you feel safe and loved, no matter what was going on in your life. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he looked at you. It felt like a dream to you both and you weren't sure if its true.
"I'm pregnant," you whispered, showing him the positive pregnancy tests once more. Leon's eyes widened in surprise, but then a huge grin spread across his face. This snapped you both back into reality, it wasn't a dream. It was true.
"We're going to have a baby!" he exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.
You couldn't help but smile at his excitement, feeling your own joy and anticipation grow. You and Leon had talked about starting a family before, but the reality of it all was still sinking in around you both. "What if Chris DID see the tests earlier?"
"Of course, we'll tell Chris when we're ready," Leon continued, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "And until then, let's just focus on us and our little miracle. We have so much to be grateful for, and I can't wait to start this journey with you."
You looked up at him, feeling a rush of love and gratitude for the man in front of you. "I love you," you said, your voice filled with emotion as he rubbed your back.
As you hugged him back, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that you and Leon would face them together, as a team.
"I love you," you whispered again, feeling tears of happiness starting to form in your eyes. "I love yo so much!"
"I love you too, my beautiful lady," Leon replied, kissing the top of your head. "Let's go celebrate our new little miracle."
Just as soon as he finished his sentence your phone pinged with a message from Chris, containing his address details.
You felt a small pang of nerves at the thought of facing Chris, but the excitement of the news soon overpowered it. You grabbed your bag and headed out of the bathroom with Leon, feeling his hand warm and reassuring in yours.
As you made your way to Chris's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building up inside you. You were excited to share the news with your friend, and you knew that he would be over the moon for you both. You both park the car right in front of Chris's house and begin to walk up to the door, hand in hand.
Chris opened the door before you even had a chance to knock, a wide grin spreading across his face as he pulled you both into a tight embrace. "Welcome back, you two!" he exclaimed, giving you both a quick hug before stepping back to take a good look at you.
"Something's different," he said, his eyes scanning over you both. "Did you get a new haircut or something?"
You couldn't help but laugh at his remark, feeling your nerves start to dissipate. "Actually, Chris," Leon said, a smile spreading across his face. "We have some big news to share with you."
Chris's eyes widened with excitement as he gestured for you both to come inside. "Well, don't leave me hanging, guys! What's the big news?"
You exchanged a quick glance with Leon before taking a deep breath. "We're expecting," you said, your voice filled with emotion. "Actually just found out today."
Chris's face broke out into a wide grin as he pulled you both into another hug. "Congratulations, you guys! I'm so happy for you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine joy.
You both step into his cozy living room, taking in the familiar surroundings. The couch is adorned with fluffy pillows, and the walls are lined with bookshelves filled with books of all genres. Chris offers you both seats, and you sit down next to each other on the couch. As you all sat down in the living room, Chris couldn't stop asking questions about the baby - when it was due, if you knew the gender yet, what names you were thinking of.
"Hey hey woah, slow down cowboy." Leon chuckles and holds your hand, gently rubbing circles on the top of it with his thumb. "We haven't found all of that out yet."
"I can't wait to meet the little one," Chris says, grinning from ear to ear. "I know you two just found out but we need to plan the baby shower!"
You couldn't help but feel grateful for his excitement and support, and as you looked over at Leon, you knew that this was only the beginning of a long and beautiful journey together.
You smile at Chris's enthusiasm, but couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the questions. "We just found out, Chris," you say, trying to keep your tone light. "We haven't even thought about those things yet."
Chris nods understandingly, but you can see that he's still bursting with excitement. "I can't help it, I'm just so happy for you guys," he says, leaning back on the armchair across from you. "I've known you both for so long and I've seen how much you love each other. This baby is going to be so lucky to have you as parents."
You feel your eyes starting to tear up at Chris's words, and Leon squeezes your hand again. "Thank you, Chris," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "We're so grateful to have you as a friend."
Chris smiles, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "I'm always here for you guys, you know that," he says. "Now, let's celebrate! I've got some snacks and drinks in the kitchen, and we can start planning the baby shower while we're at it. I don't care if I'm grilling. I want to help you guys!"
You laugh at his excitement and look over at Leon, who's eyes are sparkling with as much joy as Chris. You feel a surge of gratitude for Chris, how excited he was for the both of you all over again since the time he found out you two were engaged. You stand up from the couch, feeling Leon's rough but gentle hand in yours, and follow Chris to the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm cinnamon rolls fills the air, and you can't help but feel comforted by the homely aroma.
As Chris starts pulling out plates and cups, he turns to you both and asks, "So have you thought about any names yet? Boy or girl?"
You and Leon look at each other, smiling at the thought of naming your future child. "We've talked about a few names," you say, feeling a sense of warmth spreading throughout your body. "But we want to wait until we find out the gender first."
Chris nods, taking a sip of his coffee. "Well, let's brainstorm then. We'll come up with the perfect name together."
As you all sit around the kitchen table, snacking on the delicious treats and brainstorming baby names, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and support of your closest friends. This journey may have just begun, but with Leon and Chris by your side, you knew that everything would be alright. "Okay, what if you have the girl be Lillie, or Laila?" Chris says as he slowly takes a drink of his tea.
Leon looks at you, a soft smile on his face as he says, "I like those names, but what about Emilia or Isabella?"
You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of excitement building up inside you. "I also really like the name Ava," you suggest.
Chris nods, "Ava's a beautiful name. And for a boy, what about Ethan or Samuel?"
Leon chimes in, "I also like the name Aiden or James."
You smile and chime in. "Well I was thinking maybe if its a girl her name would be Kaieda or even Kinsley and if its a boy I was thinking maybe something along the lines of Darian or Maverick."
Chris looks thoughtful for a moment and then nods. "I like those names, they're unique but not too out there. And they all have a nice ring to them." He takes another sip of his tea and looks over at Leon. "What do you think, man?"
Leon smiles and squeezes your hand. "I love them. Especially Kaieda and Darian. They're beautiful names."
As you all continue to chat and snack, the topic of the baby shower comes up again. Chris pulls out a notepad and pen and starts jotting down ideas. "Okay, so we need a venue, a theme, decorations, food, and games. And of course, we need to make sure it's perfect for our little miracle!"
Leon laughs and looks at Chris. "Already deciding the little one will call you uncle now?"
Chris chuckles and shrugs. "I mean, I'm just putting it out there," he says, grinning. "But seriously, I'm so excited for you guys. Being a parent is the best thing in the world, and I know you two will be amazing at it."
You smile at Chris's words, feeling a warm sense of pride and joy. "Thanks, Chris," you say, giving him a grateful smile. "It means a lot to have your support."
Leon nods in agreement. "Yeah, we really appreciate it," he says. "And we couldn't do this without you guys. You're like family to us."
Chris smiles, looking genuinely touched. "You guys are like family to me too," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "And I can't wait to watch your family grow."
Leon grins and nods. "We're definitely going to need all the help we can get," he says, giving your hand a squeeze.
Chris nods in agreement. "Anything you guys need, just let me know. I'm happy to help with anything, from planning the baby shower to babysitting once the little one arrives."
You feel your heart swell with gratitude as you look around at your two closest friends. They were both so excited for this new chapter in your lives, and you knew that their love and support would be invaluable.
As you continue to snack and chat, the conversation turns to more practical matters, like decorating the nursery and finding the right pediatrician. You take notes on Chris's suggestions for baby-proofing the house, while Leon talks about his research on strollers and car seats.
As the evening wears on, you all start to feel a little tired, but the excitement and happiness of the evening makes it hard to leave. Finally, you all exchange hugs and promises to keep in touch, and you and Leon make your way back home, feeling grateful for the support of your closest friends. You both unlock the front door to your home and are greeted with a warm and inviting atmosphere. The living room is spacious and cozy, with soft lighting and comfortable furniture that invites you to sit down and relax. The walls are adorned with beautiful paintings and photographs of you and Leon on countless trips and a lot of wedding photos, each one holding a special memory or meaning.
The kitchen is modern and sleek, with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods fills the air, making you feel right at home. The dining area is just off the kitchen, with a large wooden table and matching chairs that can comfortably seat your family and guests.
As you make your way upstairs, you'll see the bedrooms. Each one is unique, with its own style and personality. Your bedroom is peaceful and calming, with soft colors and comfortable bedding that invite you to snuggle up and unwind. The spare bedroom is full of boxes that hold more memories, but soon it will be the nursery for the baby.
Leon takes your hand and leads you to the spare bedroom. "We have some work to do," he says with a grin. "We need to start clearing out this room and making it a nursery. But we can start tomorrow, we've had a long and exciting day today." He pulls you in from behind and holds you, planting soft kisses on your head and neck as you both take in the final look of the spare room now.
You lean back into Leon's embrace, feeling safe and loved. "Tomorrow we can start planning and designing the nursery," you say, turning around to face him. "But tonight, I just want to be with you."
Leon nods, his eyes sparkling with understanding. "Of course, my love," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "What do you want to do tonight?"
You think for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "Maybe we could watch a movie or just talk," you suggest. "Just something low-key and relaxing."
"Sounds perfect," Leon says, giving you a soft smile. He leads you to the living room, where Chris is sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand. You and Leon look at each other, surprised since you both just managed to settle back in for the night.
"Hey lovebirds," Chris says with a chuckle as he notices your entrance. "What's the plan for the rest of the night?"
"Just a low-key night in," Leon replies, sitting down next to Chris. "Maybe watch a movie or something to unwind before sleeping. I didn't know you came by to check on us."
Chris nods, taking a sip of his wine. "Sounds good to me and I thought maybe i could stay over tonight and be able to help you guys tomorrow," he says with a grin. "What are we watching?"
You and Leon exchange a look, both grateful for Chris's presence and his willingness to help. "We were thinking of watching something light and funny, maybe a romantic comedy," you suggest, settling into a cozy armchair. "Its been a wild day."
Chris nods in agreement. "Sounds perfect to me. Let me go grab my bag from the car and I'll be right back."
As he leaves, Leon takes your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze as he brings it up to his lips before kissing the top of your hand. "I'm so glad Chris is here," he says softly. "I feel like we're not alone in this journey."
You nod, feeling the same way. With your home, your friends, and each other, you knew that you could handle anything that came your way. As Chris returns and the movie starts, you all settle in for a relaxing night in, filled with laughter, love, and the comfort of knowing that you had each other. You sat across Leon's lap as he gently rubbed your shoulders, occasionally leaning down to kiss your head and back. Chris smiles and laughs at the corniness of the movie.
The room is cozy, illuminated by the soft glow of the TV and the warm ambiance of the lamps around the room. The sound of the movie fills the air, occasionally interrupted by laughter and playful banter between the three of you. You feel grateful for these moments, these simple moments that bring you so much joy and contentment.
As the movie nears its end, Chris yawns and stretches his arms. "Well, I think it's time for me to hit the hay," he says with a smile. "But I'll be up bright and early to help with the nursery."
"Here let me get you some spare blankets and pillows." You smile and slowly get up before you go into the downstairs hallway closet and open it up. Soft blankets and pillows were stored in there and you carefully pulled out two pillows and a thin blanket to give Chris.
You and Leon thank him and bid him goodnight as he heads off to the guest room. Leon turns off the TV and takes your hand, pulling you into a warm embrace. "Let's head to bed, love," he says, his eyes shining with tenderness. "I need you well rested."
You nod, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to you. You follow Leon upstairs to your bedroom, where he helps you change into your pajamas before joining you in bed. He kneels before you and gently kiss your belly. "Hi my little one, its daddy. I'm sure you cant hear me just yet, but I am so ready to meet you. Uncle Chris is already helping us prepare for you." He softly whispers against your stomach and gently rubs it. "And between you and me. Your mom will always be the most beautiful mom. No matter what. Now don't give her too much trouble as you grow inside of her okay?" He gets up and kisses you softly and lovingly.
As you snuggle up together, you can't help but feel grateful for the love and support of your partner and friends, and the cozy sanctuary of your home. You drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, ready to take on whatever comes your way with your loved ones by your side.
The morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. You stretch and yawn, feeling well-rested and refreshed. As you sit up, you take a moment to look around the room. The soft colors and comfortable bedding make you feel at ease, and the sunlight streaming through the windows fills the room with a peaceful energy. You slowly wiggle your way out of Leon's sleeping grasp and gently place a kiss on his temple before opening your bedroom door. You step out into the hallway, feeling the plush carpeting under your bare feet as you make your way to the spare room.
You notice the spare bedroom door slightly ajar, and you remember the work that you and Leon had planned to do. You find Chris already hard at work, moving boxes and furniture around. The room looks vastly different from the night before - the boxes have been cleared away and the space is now a blank canvas, ready for you to transform it into a nursery. You look at the light beige walls that welcome the room.
"Good morning," Chris greets you with a smile as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. "I assume Leon's still sleeping so I figured I'd get a head start on this."
"Thank you Chris, I couldn't have asked for a better friend. " You smile and start to pick up the lighter boxes and take them next to the attic drop down stairs.
Chris nods and continues moving the larger furniture pieces. "No problem, happy to help out. You two have done so much for me over the years, it's the least I can do."
As you work together to clear out the last of the boxes and clean up the room, you start to discuss ideas for the nursery. You both agree that you want it to feel warm and welcoming, with a touch of whimsy. You discuss colors, themes, and furniture options, bouncing ideas off of each other until you come up with a plan that you're both excited about.
As the morning turns to afternoon, Leon finally wakes up and joins you in the nursery. He looks around with a smile, impressed by the progress you and Chris have made. "Wow, you guys have been busy," he says with a grin as he walks over to you and kisses you all over your face then your stomach. "It's starting to really look like a nursery now."
You fill him in on the plans for the space and he nods in agreement, happy with the direction it's heading. As the three of you work together to bring your vision to life, you can't help but feel grateful for the support of your loved ones and the excitement of starting this new chapter of your lives together. You excuse yourself to go sit down for a few minutes and take some deep breaths, hoping to calm your stomach.
Chris notices your distress and comes over to check on you.
As you take a few deep breaths, you notice Chris bringing over a glass of water and a pack of crackers. "Thanks, Chris," you say, gratefully taking the offering. You nibble on the crackers and sip the water, feeling the nausea slowly subside. Leon comes over and sits next to you, rubbing your back gently.
"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" he asks with a concerned expression as he gently tucks a stray (h/c) strand away from your face.
You nod, feeling the support of both of them lifting you up. "Yeah, it's passing. Thanks for being here for me."
Chris smiles warmly. "Of course, that's what friends are for. And we'll be here for you every step of the way."
As the three of you continue to work on the nursery, you feel a sense of joy and excitement build up inside you. This is not just about preparing a room for a baby, but also about building a future as a family. As you decorate the room with cute baby furniture and toys, you can already imagine your little one growing up and playing in this space. You can't help but smile at the thought.
"Hey, do you guys want to take a break and grab some lunch?" Chris suggests, breaking your train of thought.
"Sounds good to me," Leon agrees, standing up and stretching.
You nod in agreement, feeling a little hungry now that the nausea has passed. You pack up the tools and supplies and head out to a nearby café, laughing and chatting all the way there. This is exactly what you need - the support and love of your friends and partner as you embark on this exciting new journey together.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A couple months pass and your belly has started to show just a little bit. Leon has taken a liking to gently holding it and walking in front of you if you guys walked any where together.
As your pregnancy progresses, Leon becomes even more attentive and loving. He's always there to help you with anything you need, from rubbing your feet after a long day to bringing you a glass of water in the middle of the night. He even takes up cooking, experimenting with new recipes that he thinks will be good for you and the baby. Constantly making sure your prenatal vitamins are all stocked up and making sure you eat healthy.
One day, as the two of you are out for a walk in the park, Leon takes your hand and places it on your belly after you two sat down since your feet where hurting and he had finished rubbing your stomach. "Do you feel that?" he asks excitedly. "That's our little one, kicking."
You smile, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Wow," you say, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. "This is really happening."
Leon leans down and kisses your forehead. "Yes, it is," he says. "And we're going to be amazing parents."
You smile and look down, seeing the little kicks roll over your stomach. You looked at it with awe and pure bliss.
As the months go by, your belly grows and your baby becomes more active. Leon takes a liking to holding your belly and walking in front of you whenever you're out together, as if he's protecting both you and the baby from the outside world.
Chris, too, is excited to be an uncle and is always eager to help out in any way he can. He even comes with you to some of your doctor's appointments when Leon is away at work on missions, taking notes and asking questions so he can better understand what you and the baby need.
Together, the three of you prepare for the arrival of your little one, painting the nursery a soft, calming blue and filling it with everything your baby could possibly need. As the due date approaches, you feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness, but knowing that you have the love and support of Leon and Chris makes everything feel a little less scary.
You also attend prenatal classes together, learning about everything from childbirth techniques to newborn care. Leon is a bit apprehensive about the process, but with Chris, he jumps in with enthusiasm, eager to learn as much as he can to support you and the baby when you guys go over the lessons with him.
As your due date gets closer, Leon takes on more tasks around the house, making sure everything is clean and organized. Chris brings over meals and helps with any last-minute preparations, all while making you laugh with his jokes and stories. Leon lets you do light cleaning but whenever you try and do more than that he gently takes your hand and sits you on the couch with your current cravings and puts on your favorite show, even giving you your favorite blanket to cover up with. "You have to take it easy my love. You can pop any day now and I don't want you to run the risk of getting hurt." He looks at you with loving eyes.
You'd only sit for one episode before you got right back up and started to clean again.
As you clean up, Leon suddenly stops and turns to you with a mischievous smile. "Hey, love, we never did our gender reveal. Should we do it now?"
Your heart skips a beat as you realize he's right. You had both decided to wait until the baby shower to find out the gender, and with all the excitement of the day, you had completely forgotten.
Without hesitation, you both rush to the nursery and grab the large box that's been sitting in the corner for weeks. You call Chris over to help you set up for a gender reveal party and baby shower the next day for the next day.
You spend the rest of the evening decorating the nursery with blue and pink balloons and streamers, trying to keep the gender reveal a secret until the big moment. Chris suggests making cupcakes with blue or pink filling inside, and you all eagerly get to work in the kitchen.
As the cupcakes bake, you start to feel a mix of excitement and nerves. What if you don't like the gender? What if you're not ready for a boy or a girl? Leon senses your worries and pulls you into a tight embrace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you start to feel calm and reassured.
As the due date draws closer, the baby shower had begun by inviting all of your closest friends and family to celebrate the upcoming arrival of your little one. The living room is decorated with balloons, streamers, and a banner that reads "Welcome Baby!".
Your heart swells with happiness as you see everyone gathered together, excitedly discussing the baby's gender and making guesses about what he or she will look like. You feel so blessed to have such a wonderful support system around you, and you can't wait to share this new chapter of your life with them.
The gifts start pouring in, ranging from practical items like diapers and onesies to sentimental gifts like hand-knitted blankets and handmade toys. You feel overwhelmed with love and gratitude as you open each one, knowing that your baby will be surrounded by so much love and care.
you all gather around the table, holding your breath as you take your first bites. Chris takes a bite of his cupcake first, and a few moments later, he lets out a whoop of excitement. "It's a boy!"
Everyone erupts into loud cheers and clapping, mixes of congratulations and
Tears of joy flood your eyes as you look over at Leon, who's grinning from ear to ear. He scoops you up in his arms and spins you around happily, laughing with delight and his face lit up like the morning sun on a summer morning that shines bright and early. "We're having a boy, my love! I can't wait to meet our little man."
Chris joins in on the celebration, hugging you both tightly. "Congratulations, you two! This is going to be one loved and spoiled little boy."
You all spend the rest of the evening in the nursery, imagining what your little one will look like and what kind of person he will grow up to be. As the night winds down and everyone heads home, you feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the next chapter of your life with Leon and your baby boy. Leon comes into the nursery and sits on the floor in front of you before kissing your hand.
"I can't believe we're going to be parents soon," he says, his eyes filled with love and wonder. "I can't wait to meet our little guy and watch him grow up."
You smile, feeling a wave of emotion wash over you. "Me too," you say softly, reaching out to stroke his hair. "I'm so lucky to have you by my side through all of this."
Leon leans in and kisses you deeply, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. "I love you," he whispers.
"I love you too," you reply, feeling grateful for this moment of intimacy and connection.
Chris walks in and sees the two of you embracing. "Hey lovebirds, save some of that love for the baby," he jokes, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm sure he's wanting some attention right now."
You both laugh and Leon pulls Chris into the hug, the three of you sharing a moment of joy and anticipation for the arrival of your little one. Chris kneels and holds your stomach gently. "Hey little bug. Its Uncle Chris here, your mommy and daddy are so excited to meet you, even I am. But don't you come too early now, take your time but hurry up okay?" He chuckles.
You smile at Chris's sweet words and feel your heart swell with love for your little family. "Thank you, Chris. We can't wait for him to meet you too," you reply, placing your hand on top of his as he holds your belly.
"Well, I'll be going home. You know what to do if anything happens. Call me. " Chris smiles and gives you guys one final hug.
Leon leans in and kisses your forehead before standing up. "Alright, it's getting late. We should probably get some rest," he says, glancing down at your belly. "We don't want to exhaust you, my love."
You nod in agreement and the three of you make your way out of the nursery, turning off the light and closing the door behind you. Leon softly places a hand on your back as you guys head downstairs to go lock up for the night. He sits you down on the couch and kisses your lips lovingly, leaving the sweet light feeling against your lips as he walks to the front door and locks it, a small confirming click behind him before he comes back over to the couch and wraps his arm around your shoulder and places another soft kiss on your forehead. "So how does Darian Isaiah Kennedy sound for his name?" Leon whispers into your ear.
You look up at Leon, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. "I love it," you reply, placing a hand on your stomach. "Darian Isaiah Kennedy. It's perfect."
Leon smiles, his eyes shining with pride and love. "I'm so excited to meet him," he says, rubbing your shoulder gently. "We're going to be great parents, you know that?"
You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling content and happy. "I know," you say, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "We're going to be the best parents."
Leon wraps his arms around you tighter, holding you close. "I can't wait to start this new chapter of our lives together," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," you reply, feeling grateful for this moment of intimacy and closeness. You close your eyes, savoring the feeling of being in his arms, knowing that no matter what comes your way, you'll always have each other. "I'm excited for us and I am so grateful to have such an amazing and loving husband."
You two share soft kisses between one another with the occasional kisses to your belly from Leon to the little one. You couldn't help but laugh when one of the times the baby kicked his nose.
Leon chuckles as he feels the baby's movements against his face. "Looks like he's got some strong kicks already," he says, rubbing your belly gently.
You both sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company and the anticipation of your little one's arrival. You couldn't have asked for a better partner to go through this journey with than Leon.
As the night wears on, Leon helps you up from the couch and leads you to the bedroom, tucking you in and making sure you're comfortable before lying down beside you. As you lay in bed that night, feeling the little kicks and movements of your baby, you feel a sense of peace and contentment. You know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you have the love and support of Leon and Chris by your side. Leon wraps his arms around you and holds you close, his warmth and presence comforting you as you drift off to sleep.
In the middle of the night, you wake up to a sharp pain in your abdomen, causing you to gasp and grab onto Leon's arm. "Leon, something's happening," you say, your voice strained with pain as you try to fight off a cry of agony. "The bed, I think my water broke."
Leon immediately springs into action out of a deep sleep, helping you out of bed and guiding you to the car. You both drive to the hospital, your heart racing with fear and excitement as you realize that the moment you've been waiting for has finally arrived.
Leon's hands are shaking as he helps you out of the car and into the hospital, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he rushes you to the labor and delivery ward. You're both greeted by a team of nurses and doctors, who quickly assess your condition and begin preparing for the delivery.
As the contractions intensify, Leon never leaves your side, holding your hand tightly and whispering words of encouragement in your ear. His love and support give you the strength you need to push through the pain and focus on bringing your little one into the world. You cried at the pain and kept on pushing.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear the sound of your baby's cries filling the room. Tears stream down your face as the doctor places your little one in your arms, and Leon's eyes well up with emotion as he gazes at the newest addition to your family.
"Welcome to the world, Darian Isaiah Kennedy," Leon says softly, his voice choked with emotion. "We love you so much." You both share a tender moment as a family, basking in the joy and wonder of the miracle you've just experienced.
You gently look over the baby in your arms and admire him. How his face is all scrunched up and his hand gripping your finger as he's fast asleep in your arms as you hold a blanket over you and Darian for skin to skin contact. Leon had stepped out of the room to call Chris to tell him the big news.
As you sit there with your newborn son, you can't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. You're exhausted, but the adrenaline and love coursing through your veins are keeping you alert and energized. You feel a sudden urge to cry, and tears start streaming down your face as you look at Leon, who has just walked back into the room.
"Everything okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face.
You nod, unable to speak as you hand him Darian. Leon takes the baby in his arms and sits down next to you on the bed, tears of his own streaming down his face. The three of you sit there for what feels like hours, just staring at each other and marveling at the new life you've brought into the world.
As the sun begins to rise outside the window, a nurse comes in to check on you and the baby. She congratulates you both and informs you that everything looks good with Darian's health.
Leon leans over and kisses your forehead as he is gently rocking your son in his arms. "You did amazing, my love. I'm so proud of you."
You smile weakly at him, feeling a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment that you've never felt before. You know that this is only the beginning of a long and challenging journey, but you feel ready to take it on with Leon. You slowly drifted off to sleep as Leon put your newborn son in the bassinet.
As you wake up from your nap, you see Leon sitting next to you, watching over Darian who is still sleeping soundly in the bassinet. You lean over and kiss your baby's forehead, feeling the warmth and softness of his skin against your lips. Leon looks at you with a smile on his face and takes your hand in his.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face.
You nod your head and smile back at him. "Yeah, just a little tired," you reply. "and sore. The ring of fire is no joke." You laugh softly.
He stands up and walks over to you, helping you sit up and adjusting the pillows behind your back. He then hands you a glass of water and a snack to keep you energized. "You need to rest, my love. I'll take care of everything," he says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll wake you when he needs fed though okay?"
You lean back and close your eyes, feeling grateful for his love and support. The hum of the machines around you lull you back to sleep. After an hour or so, you woke to the sound of your son crying.
You opened your eyes and saw Leon already holding Darian in his arms, gently rocking him and cooing softly to him. "Hey there, little guy," Leon said, smiling down at the newborn. "It's okay, Daddy's here."
You watched as Leon expertly soothed your son, his confidence and tenderness filling you with warmth and admiration. As Darian's cries subsided, Leon carefully placed him back in the bassinet and turned to you, his face beaming with pride and love.
"He's perfect," Leon said, leaning in to kiss you on the forehead. "And you're doing great, too. You're a natural."
You smiled at him, feeling your heart fill with joy and contentment. As you watched your newborn son sleeping peacefully, you knew that this was only the beginning of a lifetime of love and adventure with Leon and your growing family. You couldn't think of anyone else in the world who you'd want more than to be the father of your child. You hear a soft knock on the door and it slowly opens to reveal Chris who had brought Darian a big dog plushie and you some food and flowers as a push present. "I hope I didn't disrupt, I wanted to come see the little bug." He smiles and looks at how messy you look and over at how tired Leon's eyes were.
Chris walks over to the bassinet, looking down at the sleeping newborn with wonder and awe. He reaches out a hand to gently stroke the baby's cheek, a smile spreading across his face.
"He's beautiful," Chris whispers, turning to you and Leon. "Congratulations, you guys. You did it."
"He defiantly has his fathers features." You smile and look over tiredly, before going to take off your breast pumps.
"Yeah, but I'm sure he will have his mothers eyes and smile." Leon softly laughs and looks at his son.
You and Leon both smile back at him, grateful for his presence and kind words. Chris then hands you the flowers and the bag of food, carefully placing the plushie in the bassinet next to Darian.
"I brought you some food and flowers as a push present," Chris says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "And of course, the little guy had to have a big dog plushie to keep him company."
You thank him with a warm smile and take the bag of food, feeling your stomach growl with hunger. Leon leans over to give Chris a fist bump, thanking him for coming.
"It's the least I could do," Chris says, his expression turning serious. "You guys have been there for me through thick and thin, so I'm happy to be here for you now. Anything you need, just let me know."
You and Leon both feel touched by his words, knowing that you have a true friend in Chris. As you settle back into your comfortable position with your newborn, you feel grateful for the love and support of your chosen family. You open the bag of food to find that Chris had cooked you a steak and some fries, and even had packaged some fruit for you to eat. He even made extra for Leon to have too.
You thank Chris for the delicious meal and he sits down next to you on the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby. "So, have you guys thought about what's next?" he asks, looking at both you and Leon.
You and Leon share a glance, knowing that there are so many things to think about now that you're parents. "Honestly, we haven't had much time to think beyond the hospital stay," Leon replies, his voice still hoarse from the emotion of the last few hours. "I just know that we need to make sure the baby monitor is working properly."
Chris nods in understanding. "Well, I'm sure you guys will figure it out. And don't forget, I'm always here to help with whatever you need," he says, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, knowing that you have two amazing men in your life who will always have your back. As you sit there with your family, enjoying the warmth and comfort of their presence, you feel confident that you can handle whatever comes your way.
#married!leon#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy#re4 leon#re4 remake#resident evil#resident evil 4#leon kennedy x reader#leonxf!reader#leon s kennedy#leon x reader#long one shot#leon kennedy oneshot#pregnant reader#re x reader#reader insert#leon x you#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x f!reader#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy fluff#re4 fanfiction#leon fanfiction#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x pregnant reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy fanfiction
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Congrats to Attoye on their Newly Wedded Bliss 🌺💙
art by me | tip option in bio | chibi commissions open !
As some of you may know, I married the man I love this weekend (no not Alex, Winston or Tenoch 🙄🤣) and guess what ? - I wanted y’all to have this piece to celebrate the nuptials 💞 thank you for supporting me through my hiatus, I love you. Based on a Aphrodite/Ares piece I can’t find rn but will!
#attuma x okoye#attoye#black panther#okoye x attuma#marvel#attuma#okoye#black panther wakanda forever#x black reader#black women#y’all see his wedding tattoos ?#😍😍😍#attuma of talokan#danai gurira#alex livinalli#okoye x attuma fanfiction#talokan#mcu#art#black art#fan art#digital art#artists on tumblr#artist#oc#shuri#namor#xblackreader art
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Do I Know You?
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R
Request: lil anon.
Natasha loved you, that much she knew, but the closer your binding nuptials came the more she felt a need to run. So, that’s exactly what she does, but when she returns a year later nothing was the same. You were made to forget her, and in turn your once blooming love that she’s desperate to reignite.
Warnings: Alluded to Violence/Brainwashing. Heartbreak. Feigned Amnesia. (Happy Ending)
Alluded to Smut | 18+ | Minors DNI
"Another one?" Natasha nodded with a wince, she could already feel a headache drawing on from the excess amount of liquor she's downed thus far, but she deemed it her underwhelming punishment for what she did to you today.
For breaking your heart, time and time again she chose the life of superhero over you, even when she didn't need to. It's not like you didn't understand the mission here or there, you too were an Avenger who understood that duty calls, a few missed dates caused little harm.
There's got to be a line drawn though, and you expected that she knew your wedding was one of those times, but she practically begged Fury to let her onto a mission, in front of your face like your feelings didn't matter; she refused to believe you when you said it was the last straw.
——
So, she very well placated you, lying with too much ease about turning it back down after all, and for a few short days it was back to bliss. Natasha held you so close, cherishing you because she knew she'd have to fight to get you back when she returned, but she needed time.
It all went swimmingly until you were standing alone at the altar, all your mutual friends were sat in shock at the sight of a gap where your blushing bride should've been, but wasn't.
So now she's drowning her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey in some foreign country because she likely ruined the one good thing she's ever had.
——
Natasha's foot tapped against the bottom of the Quinjet anxiously, it'd been a year since she left, every time she pleaded with Fury to stop extending the mission it's like he doubled it.
She had a plan: take the three months to fix herself while doing what she's best at, then come home and make it all right with you.
However plans never seem to work out in her favor, and she is drowning in self deprecating thoughts as she ponders if you've forgiven her.
Did you meet someone else? Are they taking up the right side of the bed in your shared room?
Natasha bit her lip at the painful thought.
Will she be able to undo the pain she caused? Can she convince you to forgive her just this additional time, and promise it'll be different?
She will beg down on her knees if she has to.
Will she be different? Or will she just pretend until she can't anymore, and fall back into running away whenever she began to feel like she couldn't possibly live without you.
She's never needed anyone before, it terrifies her to need you, but she can't fight it anymore.
No, that much she knew was over. Because in the year she was forced to be without you it became rather apparent that she was correct. Living without you was a miserable experience; not hearing your giggles in the middle of the night when you should both be sleeping, or to not have you tucked into her, safe and sound.
Natasha realized that everything she was running from was everything she ever wanted. Loving you wasn't a burdening thing like her past tried to convince her it was, she was not about to be tied down and have her will taken. No, she was just signing up for a life with you by her side, and she realizes now that she has to fix this because now she can't imagine her life any other way then with you as her wife.
As soon as the jet landed she was racing off to find you, and once she reached the kitchen her search was over. There you stood with a mug in hand talking to Wanda in your Stitch pajamas. Natasha moved on impulse, her body needed to feel yours, so she catapulted into you without a second thought on as to if she was allowed to.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," she sobbed into your shirt, and you froze upon feeling her tears seep through to your chest.
"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Natasha froze, entire body tensing as you spoke, because the tone you used was one of innocence, and not one full of malice or contempt. You were asking her an honest question, and it terrified her.
"I'm your fiancée?"
"Were," Wanda softly corrected with a glare fixated upon the absolute mess of a woman.
"I'm so confused..." you whispered, and the woman pulled away from your hold, the one you graciously allowed her to remain in with a deep frown, and eyes glistening with tears.
"You don't remember me?" Natasha shakily asked, her arms now wrapping around her body as she took tentative steps backwards.
"I know who you are," you admitted, "Just not how you're supposed to be important to me."
Natasha nodded, then before you could break her heart any further she was taking off to her old room so that she could be sick.
"Y/N?"
"Yes?"
"I thought all your memories came back?"
"They did," you replied with a saddened smile, "But I don't know if I want to remember her."
—
After crying herself into a restless nap Natasha woke up with a start, hand flying out to grasp you to pull you close but she was reminded for the umpteenth time that you weren't there.
Nothing made sense before without you, but after seeing you it makes even less sense, and in order to get answers Natasha jumped up and ran to Fury for them, and as she drove closer to Shields headquarters she fears her continued mission extensions were intermixed with why.
"Agent Romanoff, welcome home," the stoic man greets without even looking up, he didn't need to with the way she slammed his door into the wall without a shred of remorse.
"What happened to Y/N?"
"And here I thought you were here with completed mission reports, and detailed ones at that since I heard you sustained an injury."
"Stop giving me the fucking run around Nick."
"You broke her heart, and that trickled into a long winded year of saving the poor girl."
"From what?"
"Hydra."
Natasha's knees gave out, causing her body to fall into the mans couch with a tightness in her chest. "Nick, what are you saying? I-I don't understand, what happened? If she was in danger why didn't anyone tell me? Is this why my fucking mission was pointlessly extended?"
"I haven't the time to offer you explanations, I'm needed elsewhere, but to make a long story short—yes, we didn't need you in the way in a fit of remorseful hysteria as we found her," the man revealed as he dropped a huge file on the table then looked her straight in the eye, "Not to mention she told everyone before she was ever taken captive that if you were to ask about her no one was ever allowed to indulge you."
Fury left as soon as the words left him, and the redhead shakily reached for the thick files. Knots formed in the pit of her stomach the more she read, the papers were thorough, not a single bit of information was spared. Starting with your failed nuptials that led to you going on the honeymoon alone and being kidnapped.
Natasha left you in a vulnerable headspace, costing you six months of your life, she basically led Hydra right to you, and she felt sick to her stomach at the notion. Love isn't mean to cause pain, and yet that's all she's done to you; therefore your lost memories of her love was her burden to carry going forward.
——
It'd been a week since Natasha had been back, nobody would even spare her a glance, so she hid out on the unused floor of the compound. Until one morning when she was informed by Friday that the team had left the compound. Something about an impromptu mission that she was to sit out of due to her recent injury.
The same injury you heard about through the grapevine, and you honestly felt responsible. Had they let her come home on time she would have avoided her last forced sparring session. Then her torn calf wouldn't be on your conscience, and you wouldn't be watching the poor woman struggle to make her sandwich.
"Need some help?"
Natasha jumped, making the pain in her leg worse as it shot through her body and sent her tumbling backwards, but fortunately you were there to catch her, "Falling for me are we?"
Mentally you slapped yourself for saying that, her lip wobbled ever so slightly, most people would've missed it, but you never could. No matter what happened, you'd always be in tune with the woman who still held your heart captive after all this time and the heartbreak.
"I'm okay, thanks though," she politely declined, then with as much strength as she could muster she stood upright again, and shifted to face the counter to hide her tears.
"Natasha, I know what happened, Wanda told me," you told a partial truth, it was the witch that restored your memories months ago, but you wouldn't be letting Natasha know yet, if you were ever going to trust her again, she needed to prove to you she was really sorry.
"Oh," she whispered, the knife clattering on the counter drowning her voice out, "I'm sorry."
The tone of her voice wasn't something you'd grown used to, even after three years together she had yet to ever be this vulnerable with you.
"Hey, it's okay Nat, I'm sure you had a reason."
Natasha stilled when your hand settled on her lower back, she didn't deserve your sympathy.
"Y/N, please, you don't have to forgive me, if it wasn't for my cowardice you wouldn't be in the mess that you're in," Natasha shakily stated, her inability to reel her emotions in truly did shock you, and it was clear to you how broken up over the entire situation she is—as she should be, but it also pains you to see how she blames herself for what happened to you, even if the team agreed, you never once blamed her.
You've had a long time to think the whole situation over, and if you could go back in time you would, in a heartbeat. You'd have slowed down, caught on to her fight or flight response slowly building up and gave her the space she needed, hell you would've even postponed the wedding if she would have only asked. It was the secrets and blatant lying that did you in.
"That's the thing Natasha, I already did," you whispered as you pulled her in for a hug, one that you craved just as much as she did, but the desperation was only visualized from her end. Natasha clung to you like you were still her lifeline, because deep down you always will be.
"I'm sorry," you spoke, and she pulled away with a deep frown full of defiance, "No, you've got nothing to apologize for Y/N, not at all!"
"It's my fault you're hurt Natasha, they told me they wouldn't let you come home," your voice wavered with a concern she didn't expect, but nonetheless she appreciated, "and now that you're back you've being unfairly isolated."
"Hey, hey," Natasha cupped your cheeks when she saw you losing hold of your composure, an all too familiar intimacy that you leaned into within an instant, making the redheads heart flicker with a bit of hope, "They had every right to keep me away, and to keep their distance. I didn't just steal Thor's poptarts krasivaya, I broke your heart, and that's worthy of all this."
You chuckled, "Thor does love his poptarts."
"Yeah, and the team, me included, love you."
An awkward silence fell over the both of you as you remained connected in a loose embrace. Only to be broken when Natasha gazed at your lips with a hunger you recognized as futile. Though you wanted to kiss her just as bad, you couldn't let her back in just yet, so you gently let her go, and nudged her out of your way.
"Sit, I'll make you a proper lunch."
Natasha went to refute your offer, but the way you looked at her made her back down, and at the sound of her relieved sigh as she settled on the stool you smiled in triumph. Natasha never let you take care of her like this before, most of the time she'd glare at you for even insinuating she wasn't capable of doing so; she'd cook eggs on the stove while bleeding out just to prove a point. Literally, once Bruce had to stitch her up as she passive-aggressively fixed dinner.
This wasn't much, but it was a start, and you were hopeful this wasn't a temporary thing. That her injury isn't the reason she's allowing you in like this, and that it's who she became while she was away. It made you think, that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for you.
—
The mission the team went on ended up turning into quite the doozy. What was meant to be an overnight became a three month long undercover mission. So in that time you were left to either your solitude or Nat's company.
For the first month she herself kept a bit of distance between the two of you. After she was so close to pouncing on you in the kitchen she felt it was the best option. It wasn't fair for her to look at you like you belonged to her, when you didn't even know who she was anymore outside of the rumors, and the harsh truths.
It wasn't until you purposefully set your alarm for four in the morning so you could corner her in the kitchen that she was given no choice but to spend time with you. Neither of you said much, you gently nodded to the mugs on the counter and she graciously accepted the offer.
"Thank you," she hummed, her distinct rasp you'd grown to love in the mornings much smoother as the warm drink coated her throat.
"Don't thank me yet, you have yet to try my omelette," You watched in amusement as the redhead's eyes widened and her head instinctively shook in the negatory. "Um, I'm not hungry, but thank you, really it's kind."
You deadpanned, "Your stomach growled."
Natasha sighed in defeat, begrudgingly she accepted the extended plate, tentatively she cut off an edge, then she moaned at the flavor.
"No fucking way, Y/N, that's delicious!"
"You seem shocked," you gasped with a hand on your chest in feigned offense.
"It's just, my Y/N couldn't even crack an egg."
It's true, Natasha used to do all the cooking after she rescued you from Hydra the first time, but in her absence you had to learn.
"Well consider me the superior Y/N then."
You watched regretfully as your words struck the redhead far deeper than you'd intended.
"Natasha, I—," she cut you off with a warm, albeit hurt smile, "I'm actually in a rush, I have physical therapy today, I'll catch you later."
As the redhead ran away, again, you found your heart was aching at the distance you just reaffirmed with your careless attempt to joke. It wasn't a lie, ever since your failed attempt to wed you were forced to become a more well rounded person, but that didn't need to be a new point of guilt for the redhead to bare.
You finished off her omelette, then retreated back to your room, you'd try again tomorrow.
—
The following day you saw Natasha on the couch, her injured leg was on an ottoman, while the other was curled beneath her as she read a book: Girl in Pieces, it was one you got her for her birthday when she mentioned she needed more to read, it was also your not so subtle way of trying to get her to see your pain.
It warmed your heart to see her actually read it, but really what caught your eye was the hoodie she wore as she flipped the pages. The light grey that swallowed the petite woman was one of yours, it was rather new actually, and even if you were meant to be upset that she stole from a Y/N who didn't know her, you just weren't.
Knowing that on some level she still needed you kept that burning hope that never died alive. Natasha always looked beautiful wearing your clothes, whether it be your hoodie with sweats or an oversized tee paired with her lacy panties. There was nothing she couldn't pull off, but in most scenarios you did, discarding the fabrics on your bedroom floor to feel her.
It was easy to admire her really, the way the sun filled the nearly empty room and reflected off of her was nothing short of angelic. She wore a pensive expression, brows furrowed with lips pursed, and eyes focused as if the words were inspiring her to think critically.
"So, why is it you're not on the mission?"
Natasha giggled when you jumped, of course she knew you were there, she slipped her bookmark between the crisp pages, then gave all of her attention to you with a soft smile.
"Um, I am not exactly cleared to go out yet," you quietly replied as you sat on the couch across from hers, "Not since I got powers."
Natasha's face fell when your hand raised to show the materialization of blue sparks, you were never supposed to be in this situation. Natasha remembers the day she saved you from the fate you eventually still endured.
You'd been so scared when she stumbled upon you in a high tech cage with glass for walls. Hydra had only had you for a few weeks, it was enough time to start their trials, but they only succeeded in altering your physical strength. Now though, they'd given you the powers you never wanted, and now she wanted to cry.
"Oh Y/N," she couldn't bare to see you like this, knowing it was her fault only made it worse. The guilt swimming behind her eyes made you frown just the same, "It's not your fault Nat."
"It kinda is," she replies instantly, "If I wasn't a coward, had I not ran, you would've never been alone for them to take. We'd be truly happy, but more importantly you would be safe."
"Why did you?" Natasha's frown only deepened as you asked the looming question, "Why run?"
"I-It wasn't exactly a choice," she starts, her hands reflexively clenched, before she tightly clasped them together, "It was fight or flight."
The vague answer she gave honestly upset you, you know she was scared, but for her to have such a fearful biological response to you hurt.
"What did I do wrong?"
Natasha shook her head, her brimming tears falling as she did, "Nothing, you were perfect."
"I don't understand."
Natasha's knuckles cracked as she reflexively tightened her grasp, the idea of being this honest scared her, but you also deserved to know, even if you weren't truly you anymore.
"I'm not a good person Y/N," now it was your turn to clench your fists, this undeserved self loathing mantra of hers always infuriated you.
"That's simply not true Natasha, we've all made choices we weren't proud of, I know you're not a bad person, my heart knows that much."
"I broke that heart, it should despise me."
"Well it doesn't, so stop willing it to."
"Why?" her voice cracked, she looked unsure of what she was asking, but she asked anyway.
"I'm destined to love you, I don't have it in me to hate you Natasha, trust me, I already tried."
A wave of clarity washed over her, there was a storm behind her green eyes, and the way you could see her heart breaking devastated you.
"Natasha—"
"I can't believe you lied to me like this..."
Even with an injured leg she was still able to evade your grasp, and escape on the elevator.
"You left me at the altar, but I'm the bad guy?" You huffed to yourself like a petulant child, and stormed off to your room via the many stairs.
—
A loud knock on your door woke you up, you groaned, all you wanted to do after earlier's fight was sleep the rest of the day away, but it appears the redhead wasn't done berating you.
With a scowl to rival her expected one you opened the door, but all you found was a box with your name on it signed from Natasha.
"I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for earlier's blow out, you've got every right not to, but I hope you do understand I felt blindsided. If you don't, I hold no grudges, and I promise I will leave the compound as soon as possible so you can be comfortable. But if you do, please meet me in the training room at 8."
With the note read you untied the ribbon, then you opened the box to find a customized suit, it was primarily black, but there were these gorgeous waves of varying shades of blue going down the sides of the breathable latex material.
A soft smile graced your face as you ran your hands over the piece, it made you feel special, but more importantly it gave you a feeling of belonging again. For months now they've been too afraid to utilize you in combat, they were worried about the unknown capabilities of course, but you also knew they just didn't want to put you in danger, but that wasn't exactly their choice to keep making. Nat understood.
After less than a minute deliberating you were slipping into the suit you know she spent the last few hours making in Tony's lab for you. Then you made your way down to the gym just in time to find her perching herself atop of a miniature board in a carnival-esque dunk tank.
"Natasha, what is all of this?"
"Well, I see that you are either hesitant to use your powers, or the team is benching you, and in either scenario I want to help you undo it."
"You're injured, are you sure this is safe?"
Natasha rolled her eyes, "Y/N, it is a tiny pool of water, what could you possibly do to me?"
"I could drown you."
"Don't threaten me with a good time," she winked and smirked at you in that dopey way that usually has you crumbling to your knees.
Now it was you rolling your eyes, "Romanoff, what am I even expected to do with this?"
"Whatever your heart desires Y/N: use the water beneath me to pull me in, freeze the water as it exits your hands and throw the ice blocks at the target, or use a water stream."
All was going well, before you began to dunk Natasha in the tank you focused more on your breathing, and the overall serenity one needs to feel to remain under control. Once you felt at peace, something you knew deep down came when Natasha smiled at you, and encouraged you with praises, you began to formulate tiny balls of water, then you upped the ante and focused on chilling them until you had ice.
However, after you dunked her for the tenth time you could see something was wrong, she stayed under the water longer than normal, and judging by the influx of bubbles you knew she was screaming in pain. Something she felt she needed to keep from you as she rose out of the water with a tight lipped smile as she reset the seat and clambered back on with a struggle.
“Timeout,” you shouted while running over to the redhead who was failing to hide her pain, which meant it was likely a drastic feeling.
"Oh come on Y/N, we were just getting warmed up," the redhead frowned, "Or cooled down?"
“Nat, I saw you screaming in pain,” you admit, but she shrugged, “What is life if not painful?”
“I’m fine,” she tried again, but the truth was she was the furthest thing from it, but she didn’t want to present as incapable, or or weak, and she just didn’t want to let you down again.
"Natasha, please just be honest with me," you sighed, hand falling over hers as it sits over her calf, "If we're going to fix us, you have to be."
Natasha met your worried gaze with a tearful one of her very own, "W-we can fix this?"
It shocked you to see her so unsure, telling you that she was helping you without expectations. Letting you train with her because she knew you better than anyone else, and she knew you were scared of what you have become. It was endearing, and reminded you of the Natasha that you fell in love with all those years ago.
"It won't be the way it was overnight Natasha, but if you're here, as in no more running when scared, and you're honest, we can get us back."
"Okay," she timidly whispered with a nod, followed up by a shaky exhale, "The therapist said I need surgery, but I'm terrified Y/N/N."
"Oh love," you lifted her hand up to your lips to deposit a gentle kiss, "I am so sorry it's not getting better on its own, I know you hate the hospital, and being put under even more so."
"I can't do it, I don't want to—I won't."
You gently lifted her off the platform of the dunk tank so you could hold her in your arms, "Yes you will baby, because you are one of the strongest people I've ever known, and if it'll help you, I'll be right there the whole time."
"Really?" her hands gripped you over the suit in an attempt to garner a semblance of reason, and you smiled at the way she used you to ground herself like this, "Of course, you're not ever going to be alone if you don't want to be."
"Never again," she whispered the promise, "This is where I want to be for the rest of time."
"Funny," you smirked down at her, your right hand cupped her cheek, "I was thinking the same thing," you pulled her in for a kiss, her parted lips swallowed your sudden giggle as she eagerly moved to deepen the reunion kiss.
"However, the bed might be more comfortable, what do you think?" Natasha whimpered hotly as you bit into her lower lip, "Please detka..."
—
“I told you it’d work,” Tony boasts, and the little witch rolls her eyes while filling her duffle bag up with a discernible quickness, “No, you said ‘why does it matter’ and ‘this isn’t my problem’ when Clint and I suggested this.”
“Well, initially, yeah, but I changed my tune.”
“Yeah, like five minutes ago when Natasha fell into the water with a cry and Y/N ran to her,” Steve bemoaned while starting up the jet so they could ‘return a month and a half early because they were just so incredibly efficient.’
———
4,572 Words
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fic#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x fem!reader#gxg#black widow imagine#black widow x reader
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NOW PLAYING ‘I CAN’T STOP THE LONELINESS’ BY NIGHT TEMPO. jade leech
Good old Jaido is being ironic, acting happy on the worst day of his life.
Why would an artist create happy music to pair it with such sad lyrics?
tags: unrequited love, angst and tragedy, hurt no comfort, complicated relationship, regrets & sorrows, friendships, bro doomed by the narrative, happy birthday to me fuckers
word count: 2,087
The first dance goes to Floyd, his brother.
This is only natural because, of course, the bride dances with the groom on their wedding day.
At his seat at the family table, Jade rolls a glass of celebratory champagne in his gloved hand. Freshly poured, it still bubbles with some last desperation. Champagne is a sipping wine but – carbonation burns the bridge of his nose with white pain as he gulps it down. Each organ in Jade stirs like kicked sediment, bubbling over.
Floyd’s side of the table is weighed down by their father, mother, himself, and grandmother; yours is weighed down by Grim, who is trying to steal extra food off his father’s plate. The reservation hall is drowned in people though, all coming together to support your unity.
The only one who fails to uphold this support wholeheartedly is one-drink-down-ten-more-to-go Jade Leech, the pillar of brotherhood crumbled and eroded.
It is my own fault. Jade thinks as his mother pours him another drink. All my fault.
You and Floyd dance to ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’. Sung by Frankie Valli, each lyric and note match up with each other perfectly. There is no juxtaposition between melody and meaning. With you cradled in his arms, Floyd looks down, softly mouthing each word to you. By doing so, he expresses that each word is genuine, engraved in his soul.
To Floyd, he truly cannot take his eyes off of you, magnetized in. When there is a break in lyrics, he steals June coded kisses – warm like the beginning of summer. You two nuzzle cheek to cheek, amorous.
As expected, Floyd cannot stay slow-dancing for longer than a minute. Melody starts to change. From sweet, it goes to this jumping excitement as the baritone horn and baritone saxophone intensify. You two start to pull away, independent in your motions.
Besides the tight hold both your right hands have … refusing to let go … tying the knot.
The music goes: can’t take my eyes off of you, bum bum, whump whump, bam-d bam-d, bum bum, whump whump. You shimmy your shoulders back and forth, a smile eclipsing your face. Floyd throws you a wink, hips swaying side to side. Despite the ridiculousness … no, because of your joint ridiculousness, it amplifies that sentiment of nuptial bliss: you two were destined and designed for each other.
Moved by music, you even hop in platform heels. Then, blindsided and unexpecting Jade watches, as the beat reaches its peak. You two shout, both of you jumping, but making certain your eyes connect when you shout the lyrics: “I love you, baby!!” The crowd goes wild with cheers, clapping along to the music.
And if it’s quite alright, I need you baby to warm a lonely night! You and Floyd throw away coordination lessons as the song continues, already the perfect dance partner for each other.
This entire wedding feels like one big, ironic joke being played on him.
Jade looks up from his happy, bubbling champagne when Floyd dips you so low that your spine is parallel and supine to the ground, floating only four inches or so. Both of you laugh louder than the music and cheers. A polite smile is still glued to Jade’s face.
He says words that only the watery ear of his champagne hears, “I should have never introduced them.” Unsaid because he is swallowing his alcohol-scented sorrow: It is all my fault.
The second dance goes to their father.
You seem to remember those coordinated dance lessons afterall. Especially graceful in his father’s imposing arms. Though, you keep your stance far away from his father’s shoes. Trembling at the mere notion of just touching the side of one. Burnished elkan leather that probably costs equivalent to your engagement ring.
Your engagement ring – ah, what a cursed, loathed object it is in Jade's world.
He was there when Floyd bought the ring. Do you know this? Jade thinks you probably do not. The proposal spot was all Floyd’s plan while the engagement ring was Jade’s.
“Get her this one.” Jade had pointed towards an engagement ring with a criss-crossing design on the band and a diamond the size of a dime. “Diamonds are known for their durability.”
Diamonds would be able to sustain through a wild lifetime with Floyd.
Washing dishes and spreading cream cheese on bagels in the blissful morning light, typing on computers and holding a phone up to your ear to talk in the middle of noon, brushing teeth and reaching under the sheets to stroke teasingly at his navel, moving further down and down, in the blanket of night light. Living a domestic life until you were dissolved into seafoam. All the remains of your love. A single diamond ring on a skeleton finger. Resilient.
Even though one should be the main player in their own life, it seems Jade is destined and designed for the background.
When Floyd told Jade where he would propose, it kicked his ribs and stomach harder than any alcohol could. ‘I’m already down, why push me further’ is what Jade’s half-a-second wrinkling expression spoke. With the news broken, Jade smiled with hidden rage, “I’m sure she will love that.”
The place Floyd proposed? It was the place Jade introduced you to his twin.
Isn’t it ironic? Jade knew you first but he will never know you the best. You will reveal your pink love and black secrets to Floyd yet never Jade. Jade: your first friend in Twisted Wonderland, now your brother-in-law.
The third dance goes to their mother.
You are truly more beautiful than any diamond. You are something that gleams brighter than all the jewelry on the ocean floor or in sunken shipwrecks. When Jade and Floyd were little, they used to steal stuff from each other all the time. Noses would be broken because hey, that shell you found is prettier than mine! It only makes sense that they would find themselves attracted once again to the same, shining allurement.
They learned to share as all children do. They broke off pieces of a sturgeon’s scales together and shared that. The diamond that is you though? Jade means a lot to you, he knows it; he knows it does not go beyond friendship.
When you are dancing with his mother, you shine. Laughter pianos out of your mouth in a genuinely happy melody. Unlike him, you do not have to force this mirth. Acrylic nails grab your wrist and twirl you so fast you could puke. Giggles are a kinder substitute. Despite your early anxiety, all is alright now.
Jade reflects upon that. The only moment you were frowning at that wedding.
He was speaking to Trey Clover when you appeared out of nowhere, platforms clicking. The visage of you stole his breath away; then, you stole him away from his conversation with Clover, apologizing. Jade let himself be dragged by your firm hand. As the tendrils of your hair and wedding veil bounced with your pace, Jade watched the dorsal side of his diamond gleam and raced down to a secluded hallway.
You turn on Jade, blindly bright. Sevens, you look gorgeous. Even with that frown on your face – how can he help, he wants to soothe it away immediately – you are a sight he will never tire off.
“Am I doing the right thing?”
For a second, Jade’s world stops.
He thinks for a second, perhaps he could be the main character. For second, the diamond on your ring finger is not so loathsome to him. Instead of it representing infinity, it turns finite. It is a piece of jewelry you can take off. It takes only a second before you speak again:
“I mean, Floyd has been so great through all this. Super understanding, super wonderful. I mean he’s put up with all my little whims. And he was so excited about seeing the dress! I mean, the tradition of not seeing the bride before the ceremony is boring and super outdated –”
Ah, he is back in the secondary character position. You were only talking about the tradition you brought over from your world. It had a little bit of your culture that you wanted to keep with you – not seeing Floyd until you walked down the aisle.
Jade is incredibly stupid to think you were talking about the wedding. You do not seem the type to call off a wedding. He smiles and asks, “That eager?”
“Well, I,” you fluster and look away. ‘No. I’m not, but it was the only thing Floyd and I really fought on. I’m starting to realize that it is a bit silly.”
“Keeping tradition is often how we show love for the generations before us.”
You weigh Jade’s words carefully on the scale of your consciousness. He wonders if he spoke his heart if you would take that into consideration or ignore it. After a pregnant silence, you say, “But I don’t really have a family history anymore.”
Jade blinks, surprised, as you continue, “Today, Floyd is going to become my family. Or, well, I’m going to become part of his. I have nothing of myself to offer in terms of tradition anymore.”
“You will just choose to assimilate to the circumstances?”
“Wouldn’t anyone do so for love?”
Those words fall like an anvil on Jade’s heart. “Yes. I fear they might.”
“Fear is such a drastic word!”
Jade laughs as you say, “Ah but I suppose it is true. I’m actually terrified right now.” Your hands fall down to play with the hem of your gown. You run your thumb over the outfit you will only wear once. Such a monumental, life-changing piece of fabric.
The diamond catches a flicker of light, reflective. Jade asks, “Are you having regrets?” He waits with bated breath.
“About Floyd? No. Never.” Your expression only solidifies the truth of your words.
“Then my advice?” You look on with eager eyes. Jade smiles through the pain. “I say you should keep with the tradition. Weddings are a merge of the very notion. When you become a Leech, you still have your identity to care for.” That is not the real reason though. Because, this. This Jade gets to steal: the first sight of you in your wedding dress.
“Thanks, Jade. You’re the best friend – the best brother that a bride could ask for.”
Hand over his heart, concealing everything, “It is my pleasure.”
The final and fourth dance goes to Jade.
Carried by a crowd that rushes, you two dance a mad dance, hands welded together. In your gown, you move like Jade imagines all those sneaky princesses that defied and tricked the Seven must have – well, six princesses. Like an oscillating dream, you lean back, arms out. Laughing, you swing right back into Jade, chest to chest and arms out to the side instead.
When your hearts connect in the dance, Jade thinks he could be foolish enough to steal a kiss. Just one to be a solution to all his troublesome pining. A shade of Venus pink, shining and alluring him into a dumb mistake.
I had you first but I will not have you last. Or in any ways that matter to your heart.
The song that plays is a melody that demands dancing. It is a force that moves your hips to sway side to side. Puppets you jump around, platforms banging along with the lyrics. And what tragic lyrics they are. The smile on your face would make him think he was listening to a love song.
Fluent in quite a few languages, Jade knows better. Though, Jade is unsure why the song is structured like this. Why would an artist create happy music to pair it with such sad lyrics? It is such a cruel juxtaposition. Jade smiles when you twirl yourself so your dorsal side lies against his front, snug in his arms as he dances with you. Those Venus-hued lips pull up in a diamond grin.
Why would an artist create happy music to pair it with such sad lyrics? There is only one answer. Irony.
Jade laughs and helps you back to your feet when your platforms catch on the bottom of your wedding gown. You thank him so genuinely. Jade never wants this particular melody to end.
Then, it does.
“Can I steal my Shrimpy back,” Floyd jokes, when the song ends. You happily launch yourself into his arms, ready to dance until your feet are sore. Stolen successfully.
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Plant Life by Trevor Baxendale.
Something I find interesting about this story is how often I see people misinterpreting Jack's behaviour in it, especially at the end. They want some sort of relief from him. Some sort of intimate moment. But honestly, I like how it ends. There's no space for intimacy because he's angry with himself. Angry that he missed the signs of an alien invasion because he was too preoccupied with wanting to be soft with Ianto.
Almost letting the world end because you want to protect the person you love. To me that's better than a tender moment. It's very Torchwood. It certainly won't be the last time.
Full text is under the cut. This was a quick transcription, so let me know if I've missed anything.
Gwen skipped lightly through the Hub portal as it ground slowly open. It wasn’t something she did very often. There was usually something to worry about – a midnight text to alert her to an attempted alien invasion or some kind of extra-dimensional incursion through the Rift – and any step taken in the underground headquarters of Torchwood could be a step closer to death.
But not today. Today was different. Today was normal. Properly normal. And nothing was going to stop it being normal.
“Good afternoon,” yelled Captain Jack.
Gwen smiled to herself as she jogged up the steps to his office.
He was sitting back with his boots up on the desktop, a wide, gleaming white smile splitting his face in half, “Nice of you to show up for work today, Mrs Williams,” he continued. “That’s if you actually had doing any work in mind. You could just float around the place looking all love-struck and everything if you’d prefer. It says in the rulebook you can to that in lieu of a honeymoon.”
“Cooper,” said Gwen, still grinning, “I’m keeping my name. Rhys has agreed.”
“Oh, he has, has he?”
“Yeah. Said it wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t Gwen Cooper anymore. Besides,” Gwen raised her left hand and waggled her fingers, “this says I’m a Mrs.”
“And what does that say?” Jack pointed a finger at the thing under her left arm.
She looked down as if surprised, “This? It doesn’t say anything. It’s a plant.”
“A plant.”
“Yeah. Spider plant. For the flat. I picked it up from the market this morning on the way in. Do you like it?”
She held out the spindly little plant for Jack to see. He straightened up, a slight look of repulsion on his movie star face, “Not keen on spiders.”
Gwen laughed, following him out of the office and down towards Tosh’s desk space. Toshiko was staring intently at the phalanx of glowing computer screens that constituted her workstation.
“Morning, Gwen,” she said without looking up. Reflections of the monitors flickered in her glasses, “How’s married life?”
“Fantastic,” Gwen told her, gleefully spinning Tosh around in her chair. She skipped after Jack, “I never knew you were scared of spiders.”
“I’m not. I said I wasn’t keen on them. We had a falling out on Janus Prime, spiders and me.”
“Well, this is just a plant, that’s all. No worries,” Gwen plonked the potted plant down on her desk and bounced into her seat.
Jack frowned, “I hope all this post-nuptial bliss wears off soon. I'll have to have a work with Rhys, get him to start leaving his dirty socks on the floor and toe-nail clippings in the bed.”
“Oh, he does that already,” sighed Gwen, “Like I said, no worries.”
“I’m nauseous.”
“I’m in need of coffee,” Gwen rapped on her desktop, “Where’s Ianto? A Monday Morning Special is required.”
“Tea boy’s in the Hot House,” said Owen as he emerged from the depths of the autopsy room.
“Don’t call him that,” Gwen chided, “What’s he doing in there?”
---------------
“My turn to water the plants,” explained Ianto. He was carefully pouring a plastic cup full of water into the soil of a pot plant, his face a picture of care and concentration. Ianto Jones approached every one of his duties with the same level of precision and commitment, whether it was making a cup of coffee or aiming a stungun at a weevil.
The Hot House was the team’s quiet area, a small place of tranquillity in the often frenetic environment of the Hub. It was warm and secluded, located in an angular glass pod overlooking the rest of the base.
Gwen turned away from her view of Jack and caught a glimpse of Ianto’s pinstripe through the foliage, “I thought this was Owen’s thing?”
“Well, I imagine he’s got other things on his mind right now,” Ianto responded, “What with being dead and everything.” He straightened up, observing his handiwork with a high achiever’s critical eye, “Besides, if it’s in the Hub, it’s my thing.”
Gwen walked along the rack of plants, letting her fingers play through the leaves, “These are all alien then, are they?”
Ianto shrugged, “Some of them are, certainly. Spores or seeds that have drifted in through the Rift. We plant them and see if they grow. Most die. There are some plants in the universe which don’t photosynthesise – and they find carbon dioxide poisonous. Others need specifically controlled environments,” he tapped the glass of a large blue bottle, “and ultraviolet light. Some only thrive in absolute darkness.” He knocked on the lid of a large black box. It was completely sealed and impossible to see into, “There’s something growing in here, allegedly.”
“How can you be sure?”
“We can’t. I call it Schrodinger’s plant.”
Gwen stooped to look at a small purple flower embedded in rich peaty soil on the next bench, “What’s this one called? It’s beautiful.”
“Nose Biter,” Ianto said flatly, “It’s carnivorous.”
Gwen jerked back as the jagged petals twitched.
“Not all plants are alien in origin,” Ianto continued as if conducting a tour, “Some come through the Rift from the future and the past. This one is from the Silurian era.” He indicated a large, bushy fern.
Gwen pulled an appropriately impressed face, although she had no idea what he was talking about. She looked at the specimen that Ianto had been watering so carefully when she came in, “And what about that one?”
“Ah, that’s my favourite.”
It was rather plain. Just a thin green stalk and a single, rather nondescript leaf. “Riight,” said Gwen.
“It’s really come on in the last few days,” Ianto explained, “It was practically dead last week. Owen as all for throwing it out, but I believe in giving everyone a chance.”
“Everyone?”
“Thing. Every thing.”
Gwen straightened up, bored. “It’s very nice.”
“All it needed was a drop of water. And a bit of patience.”
“Lovely,” Gwen turned her full beam smile on Ianto. “Any danger of a coffee this morning?”
---------------
Owen didn’t sleep anymore and spent most of his time pottering around the Hub. Captain Jack spent all of his time at the Hub; in fact, his sleeping quarters were located beneath his office, accessed via a salvaged submarine hatch set in the floor. Owen used to think it was just eccentric, but now he understood what it was like to have no life at all outside Torchwood. Or no life at all, full stop.
Nethertheless, no matter how early Owen checked, Jack was always up and washed and dressed before him and ready to greet the day with that big grin, “Morning!” Jack called from his office as Owen stalked up from the calls. He’d been inspecting the Weevil containment locks, just for something to do. He waved at Jack, who signalled back with a cheery flick of The Times. Somewhere above them a pterodactyl flapped lazily around the roof vault.
“Jack! Owen!” Ianto’s voice rang out from somewhere above them. Startled, Owen looked to see Ianto at the top of the spiral staircase leading to the Hot House. He was in his shirtsleeves, but still with a waistcoat and tie – what passed for early morning casual with Ianto.
“Hey, Ianto,” Jack yelled, “What gives?”
“New bud! New bud!” he cried, and then darted back into the Hot House.
Owen and Jack found him peering intensely at his plant – it had already become Ianto’s plant – and pointing, “Look! Just there. It’s a new bug. Isn’t that fantastic?”
They examined the plant. Sure enough, juts by the leaf, there was a tiny, shiny green bulge.
“I wonder where it came from,” Jack mused, “How far across the universe and how many centuries it’s travelled to get here and survive.”
“It’s doing well,” Owen concluded, “I’d almost given up on it.”
“You had given up on it,” Ianto said.
“Maybe I could run some tests,” Owen suggested, “Cross-check the cell patterns with the stuff in the archive. May tell us something.”
“There’s no need to waste your time on that,” Ianto said, “It’s here and it’s alive. That’s all that matters, surely?”
“It’s something to do,” Owen insisted.
Jack said, “Why don’t you check the archives anyway, see if you can find something that fits the description. Ianto can help. It’s going to be a quiet day after all. Tosh is off out and I’m tidying up some stuff with UNIT.”
But Ianto wasn’t listening. He was very gently pouring water into the pot around the base of the plant, watching the soil soaking it up.
Owen shrugged and headed for the exit, “At the double,” he sighed.
---------------
“Do you think it likes coffee?” Gwen asked.
Ianto shook his head, “I doubt it. Too many toxins. At the moment all it needs is water.”
“At the moment?”
“And love and understanding, of course.” Ianto added with a smile.
Gwen laughed gently, “You must have green fingers.”
“Hi there,” said Jack, strolling into the Hot House, “Thought I’d find you here. Everyone wants to know how Ianto’s plant is doing.”
“There’s another leaf coming through,” Ianto said proudly.
“Never a dull moment in Torchwood,” Jack said.
“It’s sort of cute, don’t you think?” smiled Gwen.
“That depends,” Jack replied, “on how much it takes Ianto away from his normal duties. Such as coffee.”
“Good point,” Gwen nodded.
“I’ll get you coffee in a moment,” Ianto assured them. There was a hint of abruptness in his tone that made Gwen and Jack pull a face at each other.
“I’ll get on with my work,” Gwen whispered, heading for the door.
“Yeah,” said Jack, “Me too.”
---------------
“Have you thought of a name for it yet?” Toshiko asked, powering her workstation down for the night.
Ianto school his head, “No pet names.”
“It seems silly not calling it anything,” Tosh insisted gently, “We ought to give it a name.”
“Owen’s been checking through the botanical archives to see if he can find a match,” Ianto said, yawning, “We’ll know what it is if he finds one.”
“You look tired.”
Ianto stretched, leaning back on the old settee, “I could do with some sleep, that’s true.”
“You’re spending all your time here,” Tosh said, “Nothing unusual there, I know. But you looked bushed. Jack won’t thank you for being too tired to work. It may be quiet now, but you know how it is around here. Anything could happen at any time. We need to be ready.”
Ianto dragged a hand down his face, “I know, I know. I’ll go home soon. I’ll just check on the plant first.” He heaved himself up and headed for the Hot House.
---------------
“Well, I don’t really see any harm in it,” Gwen said the next day. They were in the boardroom, Jack playing thoughtfully with a pencil. Gwen sitting on the next, Tosh next to her. Owen was leaning against the double doors.
“You think it’s a hobby?” Jack asked, unimpressed.
“Well, I don’t know much about hobbies.”
“Hobbies are for men,” Owen commented.
���Ianto doesn’t have any hobbies,” Jack said.
“He’s very fond of that old stopwatch,” Gwen said, her eyes full of innocence.
“That’s not a hobby,” Jack insisted.
“It’s only a plant,” Toshiko ventured, “What harm can there be?”
“He’s obsessed with the thing,” Jack said, his voice hardening.
“The plant isn’t poisonous, carnivorous, mobile, or intelligent,” Toshiko continued, “For all intents and purposes, just a plant. I repeat: what harm can there be?”
Jack swivelled around to face Owen, “Have you come up with anything on the database?”
“Nothing. The Torchwood botanical records go back over 100 years. There’s nothing on the computer, the microfiche, the ledgers or diaries that fits the description. We don’t even know what it is. We don’t even know,” he added meaningfully, “if it’s alien.”
“What do you mean?” asked Gwen, “I thought all the plants in the Hot House were extraterrestrial in origin, or at least from another timezone.”
“So we think,” Owen replied, “What proof do we have in this particular case? I should point out that there’s nothing that fits the description of the plant in any Earth records either, but I’ve only been looking for three days and it’s a big job.”
“We could take a cell sample,” Toshiko said, “Put it under the microscope.”
“Frankly, I’m surprised you haven’t done that already,” Jack cut in.
Toshiko looked momentarily fazed, unused to being reprimanded, even mildly. Jack had spoken softly, but he wasn’t smiling, “I – I just didn’t think it was necessary,” she said, “We’ve been busy with other things. I don’t see what the problem is – Ianto’s looking after his plant, that’s all.”
“She’s got a point, Jack.” Gwen agreed.
Jack sighted and threw his pencil down on the table top, signalling that the meeting was over, “Okay, back to work, people. I’m getting paranoid in my old age. Scat.”
They filed out, but he called Gwen back just before she left, “How did Rhys like the spider plant?” he asked.
She laughed, “Never even noticed it.”
---------------
The plant was looking very healthy. It was a good couple of centimetres taller, and possibly straighter, with two full leaves and the start of a new one. It wasn’t all that big, or even very special looking, but it now dominated the Hot House.
This was partially due to the fact that nearly all the other plants had gone.
Ianto had moved them out of the Hot House one by one. They were stacked on the steps of the spiral staircase and Toshiko had to climb very carefully through the foliage to reach the door to the pod. Inside, more plants had been moved to the floor on the far side, away from Ianto’s own little flower, and many of the racks had been completely cleared.
“Ianto…what’s happened up here?”
“Nothing,” Ianto grunted, straightening after placing the heavy glass bell jar containing who-knew-what by the door, “I’m just making a bit of space.”
“For what?”
“For the plant. It’s getting crowded. It can’t grow properly without light and space.”
Toshiko stepped into the Hot House, which now seemed very bare. Her voice echoed slightly against the glass walls as she spoke, “Does Owen know you’ve done this?”
“Owen?” Ianto repeated, “What’s his got to do with him?”
“Well, he sort of…kept this place going, didn’t he?”
“Owen’s got other things on his mind right now. As I think I have already pointed out.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Jack says you’re obsessed with this plant thing,” Toshiko said carefully.
Ianto smiled, “He’s jealous.”
“Possible. You are giving it a lot of attention though. And it’s just a plant, after all.”
“He worries too much, and so do you. That’s your problem, Tosh. Too much worrying. Sometimes you’ve just got to do what’s right and ignore everything else.”
Toshiko was a little taken aback. She had never heard Ianto speak like this. He didn’t sound hostile, but there was something wrong. She took a deep breath and said, “I thought it was time we took a sample for investigation.”
He looked at her, and saw she was holding a microscope slide.
“You can’t,” he said.
“I only need a tiny piece,” Toshiko said, “I want to have a look at its cellular make-up.”
“You can’t,” Ianto repeated.
He said it simply, and with a smile, but Toshiko didn’t doubt him for a second, “All right,” she relented, “But I’ll have to tell Jack. He asked specifically. At the very least the plant needs to be catalogued, and we can’t do that without a cell sample.”
She left the Hot House, still holding the empty slide, while Ianto carefully added a few more drops of water to the plant’s soil.
---------------
“Hey,” Jack said from the doorway, “Need a break?”
“No thanks. I’m good here.”
“Kinda weird, though,” Jack said, leaning back against the glass that overlooked the rest of the Hub, He took a sip from his mug of coffee, “I mean, you sitting there like that. Doing nothing.”
“I’m not doing nothing,” Ianto stated. He didn’t look at Jack. His attention was fixed on the plant. It was all that was left in the Hot House now, with the exception of the swivel chair Ianto was sitting on, right in front of it.
“Right,” Jack agreed slowly, “I guess I missed that.”
“Yes,” agreed Ianto, “I guess you did.”
“The others are getting pretty worried about you.”
“There’s no need for anyone to worry. We’re fine.”
“We?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine, really.” Ianto looked up at Jack, “Really.”
“Okay,” Jack said. He sipped his coffee again and grimaced, “Thing is, we’re all drinking lousy coffee here now. This stuff is disgusting. Tastes like Sontaran dysentery. And believe me, that’s something you don’t want to taste twice.”
“There’s more to life than coffee.”
“What, really?”
“That’s all you think I’m good for, isn’t it, Jack? Making coffee.”
Jack grinned, “Well, I can think of a couple other things you’re good for.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Jack moved further into the room, keeping his hands in his pockets, casual, “Ianto, this has gone far enough. You need a break. You haven’t slept in two days. You haven’t shaved either. And you know what I think of beard rash.”
“Bring me a razor and I’ll shave.”
“Sure. How about a change of clothes too? Because frankly, Ianto, you ain’t as fragrant as you used to be.”
“I’m not leaving. More important things to do in here.”
“Just for ten minutes, then. A comfort break?”
“Don’t need one. Haven’t drunk anything in the last twenty-four hours.”
Something crunched under Jack’s boot and he noticed some tiny pieces of broken glass glinting on the floor behind Ianto’s chair. He stepped carefully over them and leaned on the back of the chair. It creaked slightly but Ianto didn’t move. Jack took a deep breath, “Don’t you think this is all a bit…unusual?” Receiving no reply, Jack squatted down at the side of the chair, speaking softly, “Ianto…I need a cell sample from the plant. We have to check it out, see what makes it tick. I mean, we know it doesn’t actually tick. We just want to find out what it is, what it’s doing.”
“It’s growing. It’s a plant. What else would it do?”
“Well, we don’t know. That’s why we’d like to check it out,” Jack held up a slim rectangle of glass, “I’ve got a slide right here. Let me take a sample and I can get out of here, leave you and the plant alone together. How does that sound?”
No answer.
“Toshiko’s got the equipment ready to do. All she needs is a sample. How about it?”
Still no answer.
Jack moved towards the plant, extending his hand with the microscope slide. Ianto grabbed Jack’s wrist, fast as a rattlesnake. His knuckles were white, but his eyes were red – bloodshot, but wide and alert.
“Don’t touch it,” he hissed, “You can’t touch it!”
Jack tried to pull away, but Ianto held him in a surprisingly strong grip. They struggled against each other for a few seconds until Jack wrenched his arm free, “Goddamnit, Ianto, I’m not fighting you over a plant!”
“Then don’t fight me!” Ianto cried hotly, “Just leave me alone and everything will be fine. Can’t you see that?”
Jack stood up, breathing heavily, “What’s up with your arm?”
“What?” Ianto looked down at his arm, where the shirt cuff had been pulled away to reveal a series of sticking plasters on the white flesh, “Nothing. I had an accident, that’s all. I was moving one of the specimens and the jar broke. Cut my arm. It’s nothing.”
Jack glanced down at the fragments of glass on the floor, “You need to be more careful.”
“I’ll brush it up later.”
“I wasn’t talking about the glass.”
Jack tossed the slide down onto the floor and walked out.
---------------
There was no natural light in the Hub. The Torchwood base was located deep below ground, and there were no windows. It was sometimes impossible to tell the difference between day and night, and this made it very easy to lose track of time. To counteract this, and maintain some vague kind of biological clock, Jack found it useful to dim the lights in the evening, and then turn them right back up in the morning. Ianto had once likened it to life on a submarine. Jack had winked and told him that he’d once spent many weeks onboard a German U-Boat in World War Two, “Technically I was a prisoner of war, but we were submerged for a long time and, well, sailors are sailors the world over.”
That had been in the early days, when Ianto blushed easily, “They’re called submariners,” he’d muttered, “Not sailors.”
Jack smiled at the memory. There was always a hint of the pedant about Ianto. Underneath that soft exterior, there was steel. Very very people got to know that. Those that did usually regretted it.
“He’ll be okay,” Gwen said quietly, joining him by the circular window in his office which overlooked the Hub. It was gone midnight and the vase chamber was in semi-darkness. On the far side they could see the glow of the lights in the Hot House, and Ianto, still sitting there watching his plant, “We’ll find a way.”
“Sure. We could just storm in and drag him out if we wanted to,” Jack sighed, “That’s what Owen wants.”
“Since when did you take any notice of what Owen wants?”
“There has to be a better way, Gwen. I don’t want to hurt him”
“He’ll fall asleep eventually. He has to. That’s what the police do in siege situations. Wait long enough and they’ll just…nod off.”
“Ianto won’t. He’s tougher than he looks. And that plant’s got a grip on him. I don’t know how, but I’m going to bread that grip, Gwen. That I promise.”
“He’s moving,” Gwen said suddenly.
Ianto was little more than a silhouette, but he had got up from his chair.
They both ran out of the office, Jack leaping down the steps to the lower level while Gwen clattered along behind him. Eventually she grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt, “Wait!” she hissed, “Don’t rush! He’ll hear us!”
Owen emerged from the cells, looked at Jack and Gwen, glanced up at the Hot House. He realised immediately something was up and shot a questioning look at Gwen.
She raised a finger to her lips, signalling caution.
Jack was already moving up the spiral staircase, as quick and silent as a jungle cat. Gwen followed, trying to match him. Automatically, she reached behind her hip for her pistol, only then remembering that it was on her desk. She glanced behind her, past Owen, and saw Tosh heading towards them as well, pausing only to collect her PDA.
In the Hot House, Ianto was bent over his plant. His shirtsleeve was rolled up past his elbow, and his forearm was extended. The plasters had been removed. There were deep cuts in the flesh, and the blood stood out stark and red against the white skin, running down his wrist. His fist was clenched so the blood came freely, trickling into the soil of the plant pot.
Jack stood in the doorway, transfixed by the sight. He felt as if he was intruding on an intensely private communion. Ianto was oblivious, his full concentration on the plant. As Jack watched, a thing proboscis emerged from the plant stem, extending like the tongue of a hummingbird towards Ianto’s arm. It burrowed into the wound, pulsing slightly as it lapped up the blood.
“Bastard!” Jack had seen more than enough, hurling himself across the room, wrenching Ianto away from the plant. Blood jetted into the air as he spun away, collapsing into the waiting arms of Owen and Gwen. They lowered him gently to the floor.
The plant actually hissed.
Jack swept it off the shelf with enough force to send it crashing into the far wall. The pot burst against the glass in a shower of dirt. The plant hit the floor, white roots writhing in the air, groping like a hundred fingers for the scattered soil. Two quick strides took Jack to where it lay. He raised his boot and crushed the plant flat, screwing his feel down until it left a smear of green and red across the floor.
Instantly, Ianto fell slack. His head lolled as Gwen tried to sit him up. Owen was already putting a field dressing on his arm, “Okay, Ianto, you’re all right. We’ve got you. You’re going to be fine.”
Toshiko scanned the remains of the plant with her PDA, “No life signs,” she reported, “Whatever it was, it’s head. And not before time, I have to say.”
Jack’s lip curled in disgust, “What the hell was it?”
“A plant,” Owen said, “Some time of telepathic species, perhaps, using mind control of the local fauna for protection. It used Ianto to look after it, protect it, feed it. He was nothing more than a slave.”
“He’s all right now, though,” Gwen assured him, “The moment you killed it, I felt him relax, like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s free of the influence.”
Jack turned to leave, “Get this place cleaned up. Get Ianto cleaned up. This room feels dirty now.”
Gwen rested a hand on his arm, “Don’t be hard on yourself. No one knew what to do for the best.”
“Except the plant?”
“It’s gone. We’re still here. Ianto’s still here.”
“What if we hadn’t been alert? What if it had reproduced, spread seeds, got out of the Hub? Imagine a whole planet with those things growing in every park and hedgerow. The human race could have been reduced to mindless slaves doing nothing but feeding blood sucking plants,” He shrugged, then looked back up at his people, This is our life, guys. This is Torchwood. We can’t relax. We can’t hesitate. We have to be ready.”
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Star Crossed Lovers (Pt. 2)
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 4.6k
Synopsis: Reader and Az are in love but have a falling out bc Az self sabotages. Rhys and Cass play matchmaker. Reader sneaks into his room on solstice; they have a heart to heart and a groin to groin :)
Warnings: Smut.
(Part 1)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fall.
Flipping through your book, you basked in the life found on the pages. These days, you’d made a habit of walking the streets of Velaris when night fell, seeking the cold to contest the numbness inside. A phantom amongst the citizens; the biting wind your companion, the night sky your witness. Today, you found yourself stumbling into the bookstore you frequented with Azriel before your fallout.
You hadn’t seen him since that summer night in the Day Court mansion. A room with less rigid walls than those enclosing your heart. A desk that went from barrier to brace. A hazel-eyed prince amongst males with his head between your thighs—
You shuddered. It haunted you in the most delicious way. Shelving the book, you made your way to the shop exit.
“Y/N?”
The familiar voice had you halting, turning. Cassian and Rhys were in the foyer, looking just as surprised to see you.
Before you could offer a greeting, Cassian came bounding over. He enveloped you in a crushing embrace, lifting you. You laughed at his affection, hugging him back just as tightly. “Hi, Cass.”
“Where’ve you been hiding?” he asked, setting you on your feet. He looked down at your figure, brows pinching at your visible weight loss.
“Nowhere, I’ve just been—uh, I’ve been busy, you know, with writing and stuff.” You gave your most convincing smile.
Rhys approached you, opening his arms to you. “How’ve you been?” he hugged you warmly, placing a kiss on your shoulder.
“I’ve been good. How’ve you guys been?”
“Everyone’s good, we missed you these past few weeks,” Cassian said.
Rhys looked you over, his concern concealed as poorly as Cassian’s was.
You shifted beneath their assessments. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We bought some books for Nesta for Solstice,” Rhys said.
Cassian silently offered his arm, turning to exit. “So, Y/N,” he drawled.
You laughed, taking his arm. “Yes, Cassian?” you smiled up at him as he led you out of the shop, Rhys following suit.
Cassian smiled lovingly. “Everything going okay, sweetheart?”
You blushed. “Yes, everything is good.”
He hummed, skeptical. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” you laughed. “I’m fine.”
He dropped his charming demeanour. “Did you leave Damian? Is that what’s bothering you?”
“No, we’re still together.” A deep breath. “He, um, he asked me to marry him, actually.”
Cassian’s eyes widened, his stride halting. “What?” He faced you. “Did you say yes?”
“I—I said I’d think about it.” The brothers swapped a troubled glance before facing you again. “What?” you asked.
Rhys gave a contemplative look. “Are you…happy with him?”
“Yeah. I’m—I’m happy.” They stared blankly, making you laugh at the blatant disbelief. “I am, guys. Really.”
“Sure you are,” Cassian jested. “You look like a ghost, Y/N. I don’t know if that’s my idea of nuptial bliss.”
“Why does this sound so familiar,” Rhys broke into a sly smile.
Cassian caught onto the insinuation. “You’re right, Rhysie. This is the type of delusion Az was spewing before he left his girl.”
Your jaw dropped, making both brothers grin. “What?”
“Yeah, kid. Az broke up with his girlfriend. Did that jackass really not tell you?” Cassian added.
“When?”
“Before the summer,” Rhys said.
Before the summer.
Before the fucking summer.
That means he’d been single when he saw you in the Day Court when he—
“You good, Y/N?” Cassian’s shit-eating grin brought you back to reality.
You cleared your throat. “Yes. I’m fine.”
Rhys’s smile persisted, the bastard clearly enjoying this.
“Come to think of it, I really need to head home to Nesta. You need to go too, don’t you Rhys?”
“Oh, yes. Look at the time,” Rhys said, making no move to look at the time.
You glared, sensing a conspiracy at hand. “What are you two bats—”
“So,” Cassian cut you off. “You’re coming to Solstice, right?”
“I—yes.”
Cassian squinted, unconvinced.
You laughed. “Yeah, I’ll be there. But what’s going—”
“You’d better be,” Rhys supplemented.
“Is that a command?” you laughed.
“Now it is,” he smiled devilishly.
Cassian suddenly grinned at something behind you. You sensed who it was.
Azriel was here.
“Hey, Az,” Rhys said casually, hands in his pockets.
“Is everything okay?” Azriel asked. “I winnowed in as fast as I could.”
“Everything’s fine. False alarm.” Rhys winked at you. You glared, then turned to finally face Azriel.
You stared abashedly at him. His assessing gaze swept down your figure and back up, looking for whatever harm Rhys must’ve told him about mind-to-mind. When his eyes met your gaze, you didn’t miss the tension in his jaw.
You knew exactly where his mind went because that’s where yours had been dwelling previously. Where it often wandered. Your face burned.
“Azriel, would you be a dear and walk sweet Y/N home?” Rhys drawled from behind you.
“I—yes, of course,” Azriel answered.
You turned to take in your traitorous High Lord. “Perfect. All settled, then. You two have just a splendid evening.” One final wink before the pair shot to the sky, grinning like fiends.
You turned back to face your companion.
“Azriel,” you breathed.
“Y/N. Are you alright?”
No. “Yes. I—yes, I’m fine. I don’t know what Rhys told you.”
His eyes glinted. “He said you needed me.”
“Oh.” You shifted on your feet like you could squirm away from the truth in those words. Azriel looked healthier than the last you saw him. “How are you?” you tried.
“I’m doing okay.”
You nodded. The tension was stifling.
“What about you?”
“I’m good,” you said.
Another beat of silence. “You look well,” he said.
You laughed genuinely. “I think we’re beyond dishonesty.”
The knowing glint in his eyes made you blush. “Okay, fine,” he indulged. “You’ve seen better days.”
You laughed again, relaxing. “Don’t enjoy it too much.”
He shook his head. “Never.” He swallowed. “Let me walk you home, yeah?”
Something tugged at your chest. You allowed yourself the small amnesty. “Okay.”
Silence befell as you walked side by side, but the politeness of the encounter was too strange to ignore. You didn’t know how to act, what was too comfortable now that you’ve shared such a vulnerability with him, confessions and intimacy that only he and you knew about. It’d been not only a physical release but also an emotional one from the anger you’d used as shields; a resentment you’ve outgrown.
“Azriel?”
“Yes?”
Baby steps. “How’d you know I was published?”
He smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Tell me.”
He didn’t say anything, making you scoff and roll your eyes. So insufferable.
“You got something you’d like to say?”
Yes. “Nope.”
“Yeah? Because you seem like you’re holding back.”
Always. “Nothing.”
“You sure?”
It should’ve been us. “I’m sure.”
“If you say so,” he still smiled.
A comfortable hush fell. Perhaps honesty was the best approach while you were in this…purgatory with him.
“Azriel?”
“Yeah?” he said, endlessly patient with you, relishing his name on your lips like a prayer.
I miss you. You swallowed. “Is this how it’s gonna be between us forever?”
“I don’t know,” he answered thoughtfully.
You walked in silence for another block before you came up on the Townhouse street.
“You wanna know something?” he asked, halting his stride. You stopped walking, facing him.
“What?”
He gave a soft smile. “I’ve, uh—I’ve been working on myself.”
“How so?”
“I started seeing the counsellor that works with the priestesses.”
A pleasant shock warmed you. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
You couldn’t stop the words that came next. “Wow. I’m proud of you.”
Fondness softened his eyes. “Thank you.”
You offered back the same small smile. You both stared at each other, trying to make the moment last.
“Okay,” you said, taking a step back. “I’ll, uh, see you around, then. Thank you for walking me home.”
“Of course,” he inclined his head, staying where he was on the sidewalk.
Before you turned to walk the final stretch home, you considered your next words. “Az.”
“Yes, angel.”
“I don’t—um, I don’t want it to be weird between us.”
The expectant look widening his eyes squeezed your heart.
“Maybe—maybe we can be friends again,” you said quietly. Maybe we can be okay. Speaking the words reopened the wound in your chest.
You hadn’t allowed yourself to think those words before, let alone hope to have him at that capacity again. You didn’t know what you expected him to say, hugging your stomach. Azriel frowned, eyes searching yours. “I don’t know if…I can do that.”
His words stunned you. “You can’t?”
“I mean—I don’t know if it’ll ever be honest,” he said gently. “I don’t know if I can go back.”
You stared wide-eyed, trying to keep the pain contained, lost for words. It’s always rejection with him.
Azriel’s brows pinched at your vulnerability, at your visible pain. “You’re breaking my heart.”
You frowned. Why was every interaction with him a pendulum swing from one extreme emotion to another? Why does it have to be this hard? He watched as tears welled in your eyes, chin trembling.
“Hey, hey, none of that.” He finally broke the physical barrier between you two, stepping forward and gently cradling your face in his hands, wiping your tears as they fell. You wanted nothing more than to envelop into his arms, but you couldn’t, so you settled for his wrists. “I’m sorry,” he spoke soothingly. “I’ll be your friend, angel.”
“It’s hard, Az,” you hiccupped. You eyes fell shut, savouring his warmth.
“I know,” he breathed. “We’ll be okay.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
You tried schooling your emotions. He didn’t move, letting you take your time until the tears finally abated. No one had such a hold over your emotions as he did, but you gladly surrendered that claim. One final shuddering breath calmed you down. You then gently lowered his hands from your face, regretfully releasing his wrists.
You took him in, getting your fill. Friends again, you reminded yourself. Friends don’t yearn.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
You shook your head. “It’s okay. Maybe I… who knows.”
He squinted, tilting his head. “What does that mean?”
You shrugged, feeling a weight lift off your chest. “I don’t know just yet. We’ll see.”
“Hmm,” he mused. “Sounds hopeful.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “I’ll see you around, Azriel.”
He just gave a small smile, inclining his head and winnowing away.
Despite the heaviness of the interaction, you felt clear-headed. Felt the stifled flame of inspiration alight again at the hands of your Illyrian muse.
When you made it inside, you found yourself writing for the first time in months.
iii. Star crossed lovers
Desire in corporeal form walking streets when it should be soaring home to you. You’ve brought my soul knocking, a poltergeist rattling between ribs, stardust in a skeleton. You are mine and I am yours.
Still, I listen. Still, I hurt. Still, I hope.
~
Winter
You lounged on the couch in the House of Wind watching your family interact, satiated as your drink warmed you up inside. Despite asking you to come, everyone had been pleasantly surprised when you arrived. It’d taken a few days to convince yourself to go, but in the new spirit of taking care of yourself, you’d decided to make an appearance.
It’d been both a disappointment and a relief discovering Azriel’s absence. He’s always away these days, Cassian had murmured to you when he saw you silently scouting the room.
Mor smiled at you from where she sat next to you. “I’m really happy you came.”
You smiled back. “I’m happy I came too. I missed you all.”
“You’re glowing,” she said, eyes bright.
“I’ve been… healing,” you blushed sheepishly.
Mor nodded in understanding. “I’m glad I get to have my friend back,” she squeezed your shoulder.
It was late into the night when things quieted down and sleep began overtaking your friends. You relished in the peace after a year of loneliness and self-imposed isolation. As Rhys took Feyre’s hand and began leading her away, Feyre turned to you. “Stay the night, Y/N. Cassian’s too drunk to fly you back to the Townhouse.”
You laughed.
“Your room’s all ready,” Rhys added.
“Okay,” you agreed. Everyone retired one by one, then you finally ventured up to your old room. You took your time, relishing the feeling of being back at the House, how natural it felt to be amongst your loved ones.
When you made it back into your room, you breathed in the woodsy smell, watching the snowfall outside. The longest night of the year; that'd been how the past months of hurting felt like, but now the darkness didn’t seem so hopeless. Baby steps.
You crossed the threshold. True to Rhys’s word, the room was as you’d last seen it. You took in the familiar space—
There was a gift placed on your bed.
You approached it. A package beautifully wrapped in brown paper. Your heart raced, knowing who’d take the time to do something this intimate despite the lack of writing attaching it to a person. You unwrapped it.
Inside was a vintage leather-bound writing journal. The leather was embossed with your name; an artistic print encircled three mountains, a star above each mountain and the Sidra below. Velaris.
Opening it, your heart swelled upon finding the note on the first page.
Beloved beyond measure
In every language. Every lifetime.
I hear the silent words you speak.
Yours truly. Yours always.
You reread the words over and over, letting them warm you inside. Placing the gift on your nightstand, you reached for your own secret package that you’d intended for Azriel. You padded through the corridor to his room, faelight in hand to light the way. At his door, you drew a deep breath. Everything felt new and old at the same time. Before you could turn the doorknob, you paused; though no sound could be heard from within, shadows seeped out from beneath the door, drifting gently around your ankles.
It was too late to turn back when the doorknob turned, and the door opened.
“Oh,” you breathed. “Azriel.”
“Y/N.”
“I was just—I was going to leave your gift inside,” you said shyly, breaking his gaze. You shifted on your feet. “Thank you for the gift, by the way. It was—thank you.”
When you looked back up into his eyes, he was smiling fondly. “Would you like to come in?” he asked lowly.
You held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. He stepped aside, allowing you to pass by him and enter his dimly lit room. As he closed the door behind you, memories of the last time you’d been in a room alone flashed before your eyes. Know that I love you, Y/N. Always. Azriel came to stand before you once more. You extended your wrapped gift to him, unsure what words to say.
Azriel unwrapped the gift. He beheld the hardcover book titled Star Crossed. His eyes flashed to yours.
“It’s, um, a limited-edition book I published. For you.”
“For me?”
You nodded. “It’s…the only copy.”
His face softened, brows turning up. The smile that overtook his face was devastating. He opened the cover to find the last of your messages in the dedication.
iv. Star crossed lovers
I surrender to this truth til the stars wink out and the shadows slumber. In the place between dreams and consciousness, I hear the answer. You are mine and I am yours.
To whatever end.
“Read it later,” you said sheepishly, closing it before he got the chance. You weren’t prepared to face the vulnerability that came with seeing him read your confession.
“Okay,” he smiled sweetly in understanding. You were still in your dress from the evening. Az was in a plain black t-shirt and pants.
“You didn’t come to solstice,” you said.
He nodded. “I heard Cass say you might be coming. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
You frowned. “I’m not uncomfortable around you, Az.”
He shrugged, smiling. “I wasn’t certain.” His eyes raked down your figure. “You look really healthy.”
You nodded, smiling. “The last time I saw you, you said you began taking better care of yourself.”
He nodded, urging you on.
“I started doing the same,” you finished.
Azriel’s lovely smile deepened. “I’m glad to hear that, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”
“Stop stealing my lines.”
He chuckled. “You copied me.”
“How?” you laughed.
“Trying to leave a gift in my room like I did with yours.”
“Whatever, Az.”
He still smiled. “But I am proud of you.”
Your heart swelled. “Thank you.” A beat of silence underneath his intense gaze. “How’s the counselling going?”
“It’s good.” He cleared his throat. “I receive love in abundance. I deserve fulfilling relationships. Real love starts with me,” he deadpanned.
You stared blankly. “I…sorry, what?”
He grinned. “I’m kidding. But it is good. It’s been really helpful actually. Those are affirmations I’m supposed to believe.”
You returned his smile. “Good. Because they’re all true.”
The loaded look he gave you made you blush. He huffed a laugh. The two of you were still standing near his door. A distinct feeling of juvenility made you bite back a smile, like adolescents navigating new territory. You found Azriel watching you fondly, pink staining his high cheekbones. “Maybe we should sit,” he said nodding to the armchairs.
“Will you also serve me tea?” you trailed his hulking form.
“I’ll give you whatever you want,” he said, comfortably stretching his long legs before him.
“Good. I’d like the Dead Trove please.”
He laughed richly. “Right. No problem at all.”
“Cass told me you’re away most of the time these days,” you said more seriously.
Azriel nodded. “Being busy prevents ruminating thoughts.”
“Ah, yes.” Though the thought of him needing distractions from being in his head stung.
His throat bobbed. “I heard you’re getting married.”
You recognized his carefully crafted mask of stoicism. You couldn’t help your small smile. “Actually, I, um, I left him.”
Azriel’s face lit up, making your heart swell. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Well.” He broke out into a grin, making you laugh at his unabashed reaction.
Speaking of which—“Az, why didn’t you tell me you’d broken up with your girlfriend?”
His smile faded. “I didn’t want you to think I felt like my breakup obligated you to do the same. I didn’t want you to think I felt…owed anything.” He took a deep breath. “It was also because I felt like I deserved the…feelings I had while you were with someone else for hurting you.”
You frowned. “What feelings.”
He smiled grimly. “Pain. I learned that I had self-sabotaging tendencies and I self inflict punishments on myself. I’m working through all that.”
His honesty was deeply touching as it was painful. “You don’t deserve pain or punishment, Az,” you said quietly.
“I’m learning that now,” he said.
You took a deep breath. “Well. It seems our foursome’s down to two.”
Azriel laughed. “Looks like it’s just you and me, now.”
You smiled. “Just you and me.”
As you took each other in contently, the words he wrote in his gift to you renewed your courage. Beloved beyond measure. You took a deep breath. “What you said to me the last time I saw you…”
“I said a lot of things,” his mouth tipped up cheekily.
You held his gaze, steeling your nerves. “You said you…loved me.” In this life and all the rest, his words echoed.
“What about it?” he still smiled, unphased like he was discussing the weather.
“Do you…do you still feel that way?”
His smile faded, gaze intense. “Yes, Y/N. I do.”
Your throat tightened. “You love me?”
“I love you.” Azriel stood and walked over to where you remained seated, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You tipped your head back to look up at him as tears pooled in your eyes. He cupped your face in his hands, looking down at you with such softness it broke your heart. “I missed you so much, pretty girl.”
You turned your face to place kisses into the palm of his hand, cradling his hands with your own. “I missed you too, Az,” you rasped. He tugged you to stand, and you complied. He didn’t step back, so you were flush with his body, bracing your hands on his chest. His hands bracketed your waist, pulling you even closer to his torso. You stared into his face, savouring the closeness, the openness; you traced your fingers over his brow bone, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his mouth.
He was living art.
You began shaking. “Azriel,” you breathed.
“Yes, angel.”
“I love you too,” you whispered with all your courage.
Relief pulled his brows. His gaze travelled all over your face, breath fanning your cheeks as he leaned in closer. Too slowly. You stood on your tiptoes and closed the distance, kissing him. Azriel immediately held your head and kissed you deeper, making your limbs go slack. His soft mouth moved with yours, and your hands roamed through his hair, neck, back, shoulders—unable to get enough of him. He only broke off to gasp for air, but you remained breathless despite the lungful you heaved in. Gone was any trace of his laidback saunter and charisma from before. His eyes were wild, hair tousled from your hands, and he leaned forward like you were oxygen.
He kissed you again, hands now travelling down your form. When they reached your hips, you tugged on his shoulders. He understood your cue, cupping the backs of your thighs and hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. You kept kissing him as he walked over to his bed.
Despite the emotional release, he slowed down, placing you onto his bed with such gentleness it nearly tightened your throat again. You scooted back on his bed, giving him space to move closer. He stopped when you were knee-to-knee. “I know that was…a lot,” he rasped. You knew he was referring to the emotional intimacy rather than the physical. “We don’t have to do anything further if you don’t want to.”
You shook your head. “Az, I want you.”
He searched your eyes for any hesitation. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He exhaled in relief, kissing you again. You tugged on the hem of his shirt; he helped take it off, then reached for your hem, tugging it up. You undressed each other until you both remained in your undergarments. Azriel placed his hands on your hips, tracing them up your form. You shuddered at the feeling of his hands on your body, letting the warmth in your lower belly grow. He tugged you to him, embracing you tightly. His hot skin on yours eddied every thought in your head. You relaxed in his hold, breathing hard as your desire grew and grew. He began kissing your shoulder to your neck, undoing your chest binding til you were bare. He leaned forward, laying you down. He rose, sitting between your legs and looked down at you, marveling at the sight of you on his bed. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice guttural.
“You’re beautiful, Azriel.”
He shook his head, taking off his underwear. You began shaking again, in desire and anticipation. He placed his hands on either side of you and leaned forward, cushioning his hips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his length on your clothed core. He ground himself into you, drawing keens from you into his mouth.
“Please,” you whimpered when he didn’t cease. You matched his movements, needing more. You reached down and tugged your underwear down yourself. He paused his movements, watching you bare yourself to him. He reached down to touch you, but you stopped his hand. “Please,” you breathed again. “I need to feel you.”
He inhaled the scent of your arousal, and you noted a tremor in his arms. “You’re sure?” he rasped. You nodded, releasing his hand. He reached down to guide himself in. As his length teased your entrance, his gaze returned to study your face. You only nodded, encouraging him. He began entering you, inch by aching inch.
The stretch of his size stung.
When he bottomed out, he paused, letting you adjust. He ran his hands over your breasts, teasing your nipples and kissing you until your hips jerked forward. Then he pulled back, staring into your eyes once more. “You are mine,” he rasped, “and I am yours.”
“All yours,” you whimpered. “I’m all yours, Azriel.”
With that, he began withdrawing and thrusting, bit by bit. Every roll of his hips sent pleasure rippling through you, drawing out moans and whimpers. You wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him even deeper access. You stopped breathing, silenced and overwhelmed by the bliss, staring at him in awe.
“Breathe for me,” he commanded. Your sharp inhale was nearly a sob. You were already nearing the edge. He sped up his motion as your breathing grew shallower and shallower, trembling around him. “Let go,” he breathed. “Let go, angel.”
With that you came crashing; wave after wave of ecstasy washed through your body. He didn’t relent, working you through it as you panted. It was pleasure like you’d never known. You were utterly helpless in his arms, but the safest you’d ever felt. As you came down from your high, he slowed his movements, giving you reprieve as you caught your breath.
He was still nestled deep inside you as you pulsated around him. “More,” you rasped. He only kissed you, so you reached a shaking hand behind his head to his wing and began stroking the inner erogenous area. He shuddered, his hips reflexively snapping forward, making you cry out. You continued your ministrations, stroking back and forth until Azriel was the one heaving breaths.
He moved inside you at a punishing pace, his rhythm thrown off by his overwhelming pleasure. His groans reverberated through your torso, flush with his. You neared the edge of release again. He kissed you as you tightened around him. “That’s it,” he breathed shakily into your mouth.
You tried to continue stroking his wing but your arm went slack as release tore through you a second time. He drew cries out of you as you finished but all you could hear was his shaky breathing in your ear and growls of approval. A few final thrusts and you felt him release into you as well, felt him exhale in relief and lower himself and lay his weight upon you.
You took your time collecting yourselves, breathing steadily. When he finally rose and pulled out of you, you shuddered. He cupped your face tenderly and searched your eyes. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, satiated. “Yes. You were perfect.”
He left and returned to clean you up and you let him, basking in his attentive nature and loving care. When he finished, you opened your arms to him, relishing in the sleepy smile that overtook his face as he accepted your invitation. He lay his head onto your chest, the weight of him anchoring you to reality. You could’ve sworn something deep inside snapped as everything fell into place with Azriel. He suddenly flinched but didn’t say anything, only tightening his hold on you as you were lulled slowly to rest. The love you felt for him beat in your chest like a sentient thing, and it echoed beyond.
“So I take it we’re not just friends anymore,” Azriel murmured into your chest. You laughed, wringing your arms around his shoulders, tugging him impossibly closer.
“You’re my love,” you breathed.
“I like the sound of that,” he whispered.
“What happens now?”
A steady stream of comfort and affection crept through you on a tether as you slowly submerged into unconsciousness, but you heard him like you heard all the silent words he spoke. “We’ll figure it all out, angel. We got all the time in the world.”
~
taglist:
@iimisty-a @feyretopia @cityofidek @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @punishers-girl @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @quill-and-the-curse @hyacinthoideshispanica
a/n: thank you sm for sticking around for part 2!! Ily guys sm I hope you enjoyed this.
#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel smut#azriel fanfic#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel/reader#azriel fanfiction#azriel angst#azrielhours#cassian
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TDIOBCB challenge - day 1:
holding hands Aegon and Daenaera
One of the prominent nuptials in this succession of matrimonial events, aside from the marriage of Princess Rhaena and Prince Daeron, was the significant union of the adored eldest children, Aegon, colloquially referred to as the Golden Prince - due to the colour of the cloak that he often wore when he was a child - with Lady Daenaera Velaryon, the daughter of the deceased Lady Laena, the dearest companion of the Queen.
This auspicious ceremony took place in the year 136 AC and held considerable significance.
To mark this extraordinary occasion, the Queen opted to arrange a grandiose Royal ceremony surpassing any previous ones, summoning Lords and nobility from Westeros and other regions to attend the extravagant affair that would span over a week. Amidst the grandeur of the feast, individuals couldn't help but admire the stunning appearance of the newly married couple, who spent the entire event gleefully dancing and smiling, forgetting their surroundings in blissful oblivion.
Several people attested to witnessing an unparalleled level of happiness and love between the Prince of Dragonstone and his newlywed spouse: after all, both had been fond of each other ever since their real first encounter, which happened when the two were children.
- from TDIOBCB chapter 1
(warning: these illustrations are inspired by an AU Divergence and have nothing to do with canon (book or tv show) events and are not meant to be reposted outside of their contest)
#illustration#artists on tumblr#chiara cognigni's art#chiara's art#digital illustration#digital art#fanart#art#tdiobcb#the doom in our blood comes back#fanifc#asoif fanart#ao3 fanfic#fanific art#art challenge#pre asoiaf#asoiaf fanfic#asoiaf fanart#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#aegon iii x daenaera#daenaera velaryon#aegonaera#house targaryen#house velaryon#period fashion#period dress#mermaid#sirencore#mermaidcore
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Dance of Flames
Daemon Targaryen x Female Targaryen!Reader
Where you make the most of the time you have left with Daemon before your upcoming nuptials.
Warnings; usual HOTD themes, smut, 18+, teasing, rough sex, explicit language, incestuous relationship, threats, possessive daemon
“I could stay like this forever,” Daemon whispered, breath hot against your ear, his naked chest pressed against your back as he paused his thrusting, making you relish in how full you felt with him inside you.
You would stay like this forever. You would stay with him forever, if you could.
“With my cock buried deep, listening to you curse and moan like some common whore.”
His foul mouth and the the low husk in his voice only added to the heat you were already feeling in your veins.
You turned your face to him as best you could, momentarily admiring his lilac eyes, darkened with lust, before your lips met his with a heated need. It was like a dance of flames, tongues battling and both of you relishing in the hold you had over the other. It was passionate and reckless. Just like your entire relationship with the rogue Prince.
Daemon parted from the kiss as he rolled his hips back, enjoying the desperate whine that left you when he rocked forward again, his grip tightening on your hips as he set a languid pace. You could feel every inch, his cock gliding so easily inside of you with how soaked you were. He was teasing you, knowing you craved more of him. You always craved more of him.
“ Fuck me, kostilus (please),” you weren’t ashamed to beg in this situation, pushing your hips back against him.
He chuckled, “I thought I already was.”
“Harder. Fuck me harder.”
You knew he was smirking as he palmed at the curve of your ass, reeling with pride at how desperate you were for him.
Daemon pulled out before turning you onto your back and slotting his body back against yours, a moment of sweet intimacy passing as you looked at each other, a thousand unspoken words shared.
He lifted your ankles to rest on his shoulders, the angle letting him reach deeper.
You were sure the Gods of Old could hear your cries of ecstasy as Daemon fulfilled your wish, fucking you with fervour. Every breathy moan and grunt, every praise he whispered in Valyrian added to the heat in your belly. He stroked your clit with every thrust, your mind and body dizzy with bliss as he made one orgasm chase into another.
He was an animal untamed, as were you - driven by hunger for one another. Driven by the flames.
Daemon looked just as blissfully ruined as you, his long silver hair mussed and a sheen of sweat on his chest, it was a beautiful sight to behold, one you’d etch to memory. A low growl left his throat as he found his own release, emptying deep inside of you. Though it would have little future effect with the tea you had after every encounter with your lover.
Soon, the room was calm again, just shallow breaths shared between you as Daemon removed himself. You almost felt an ache from the loss, your spendings dripping from between your thighs.
He smirked, as if reading your reaction, and started kissing the juncture of your neck. With one hand intertwining your fingers in his hair, you happily let him continue his venture, peppering kisses across your collar bone and towards your breasts.
You hissed when his teeth suddenly nipped at your skin.
“Don’t ~ don’t mark me.” There was little conviction in your words, partly because you were too lost in desire, but mostly because you did want him to mark you. You wanted to be seen as his, for him to be yours. But that was just a foolish dream.
In a few days from now, you’d have a new home at Casterly Rock, a new family, a husband. You’d be fulfilling your duty to help strength the kingdom and the Targaryen reign.
Daemon’s head shot up and he took hold of your face with one hand, possessive and dominant. Yet there was no fear in your eyes at his action, only intrigue, anticipating his next move.
“Skoro syt daor? (Why not?),” he snarked, “Then our brother would have no choice but to give you to me, like he should have done before.”
You sighed. “Why must your irk him so?”
“He is weak,” Daemon stated, easing his hold on you. “We are dragons. We don’t need the fucking Lannisters nor anyone else.”
“So, what would you do? Kill him and any other suitor?”
Daemon ran his thumb across your bottom lip, his eyes not leaving your gaze. “I’d kill them all and burn the world to dust if it meant I got to have you.”
You smiled sadly, brushing your nose against his. “Let us hope it doesn’t come to that. Being wed won’t keep me from you for long, Daemon,” you promised.
As long as he was around, the Prince swore it wouldn’t keep you from him for at all.
#daemon targaryen x you#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#smutty#happynerdtale#n/sfw#happynerdwrites
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#ask-spiderpool#nathan summers#peter parker#flashback#nuptial bliss#not the guy who's seen the future and can also read minds#main
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@soartfullydone asked:
No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”
Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.” - Lemuel/Bastion
So. Uh. This was a whumptober prompt. But every month is whumptober if you really want it to be.
Anyway. I've dedicated the last eleven years of my life to trying to figure out how Lemuel Adelier ticks. I hate to admit that Bastion's been woefully neglected on my end. My studies did not include this bird man.
This was also my attempt to practice writing a fic that is decidedly not 4,000 words. I need to get better at writing shorter pieces, damnit.
I'm sorry to anyone who decides to read this. lmao
***
"Don't move."
Bastion Winalils lifted his hands in the air as if in surrender, though his shoulders remained rounded and a heavy, bored sigh escaped him. He could feel the tip of a blade digging into his back, the steel cold and sharp. It would be simple enough to offset out of harm's way, to vanish from his assailant's view within the span of a breath—only to then reappear behind him and rip the air from his lungs.
But that would be too simple, and this particular assailant too fun to poke and prod like a rabid beast.
"Is that any way to greet a friendly face, Captain Adelier?" Bastion intoned, daring a glance over his shoulder. Adelier's face was stone, his eyes hard and his mouth a firm, thin line. A roguish grin lit up the Black Tongue's pale visage. "And here I thought we had developed a rather cordial working relationship."
"I didn't call on you Ilgan Yag," Adelier spat, as if the word were poison upon his tongue. Oh, if only. "You'd best have good reason for defiling the Temple grounds with your stench."
"Does Ssael not open his doors to everyone?" Bastion needled further. He was rewarded with the tip of the sword pressing harder into his back. His grin only widened.
"Not everyone," Adelier ground out.
"A pity. A convert might very well have been lost this day."
"Enough. Do not toy with me. I'm in no mood."
That much was clear. Though Bastion couldn't say he'd ever caught the Soud in a particularly receptive mood. "Fine, then," Bastion said, lowering his arms to play at adjusting the hem of his gloves. A show of nonchalance, though his lips remained upturned in thinly veiled amusement. "Perhaps you can help me."
"I'd rather help a sow find her bliss," Adelier said flatly.
"Come now," Bastion said, turning on his heel to face the Soud. The blade remained level with his chest, those piss colored eyes boring into him with a fearsome ire, but he was otherwise unmolested. "I'm just following a bit of gossip. I simply wished to confirm it at the source."
Adelier's brow rose a fraction, inquisitive. Bastion had to smother the smirk that begged to take shape.
"What sort of gossip?"
"The most interesting kind," Bastion continued. "There's been talk of a caster amongst your lot. Talented, it seems. Can cast with nary a word spoken."
Adelier flinched, his blade faltering slightly. A surge of satisfaction flooded Bastion's veins, and that smirk appeared unbidden.
"Tacit casters are incredibly rare," he explained, the words laced with a not so subtle taunt. "Not to mention innate tacits. So of course I had to follow the trail and see for myself. Color me surprised when the source turned out to be the Lion's very own Delight." The moniker came out with more bite than he had intended, but the scars at his back itched, and only now did some relief for that old wound appear to be at hand.
Adelier's face seemed to blanch, though it was difficult to tell in the dim light of a looming dusk. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, the words gruff and forced.
"Your niece has been very busy, it seems," Bastion continued undaunted, his gaze flickering down to examine his nails. "Though I suppose she'd be your daughter now, yes? Congratulations on the nuptials, by the way. I would have sent a fruit basket had I been informed."
In a flash, Bastion found himself with that same blade pressed to his throat, the steel bitingly cold against his warm flesh as Adelier closed the short distance between them. Adelier was fairly agile for a man of his build. He had begun to harden himself in the few years since that dark, snowy night, the almost lithe form he had once sported now showing more bulk.
He should only know that his brutish ways would not save him—or her—should Bastion will it.
"I swear to God," Adelier rumbled, his breath fogging the air between them. "If you so much as come within ten yards of her, of any of them, I will flay you alive and leave you for your hallowed crows."
They stood almost nose to nose, close enough that Bastion could see the ragged edges of the ugly scar carved into the Soud's face. It twisted with the scowl that pulled at his countenance, turning his handsome features into something unsightly. That same petty satisfaction thrummed hotly beneath his flesh.
Bastion allowed himself a soft chuckle, the minute movement causing the sharpened edge of the sword to dig into the skin of his throat. A bead of blood welled under the blade, slowly trailing down the Black Tongue's neck and pooling within the hollow of his clavicle. Fury danced in Adelier's eyes, his piercing gaze seeming to pulse a fiery gold.
But before he could make good on his threat, or at the very least slit Bastion's throat from ear to ear, Bastion held his hands up once more as if in surrender—though his smirk did not once falter.
"Promises, promises, darling," he said, his tone light and taunting, and grabbed for the hilt of the sword. His free hand reached for that ever immovable silver torc at his neck and murmured something near inaudible, though loud enough for the khert to heed his call.
Adelier dropped the blade as if burned, the hilt glowing a bright orange and sizzling softly against the frost dusted ground—but before he could fully draw that second dreadful sword, Bastion had already vanished from view, his laughter echoing endlessly into the khert itself.
#Lemuel Adelier#Bastion Winalils#Unsounded#writing prompts#writings from mandalore#Ashley if you see this don't read it lmao
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📸 bc I will take any chance to look at AG and also because I love you
Abby, my sweet keeper of all of my kinks, thank you! Your AG pic is extra special!
Look at this. Just LOOK AT IT.
There's something about this photoshoot from this year's Oscars that is just, so... gahhhhh. He's so beautiful. So beautiful, it hurts. All of the photos from this set are so devestatingly handsome but also kinda fluffy, and this one here? This reminds me of a Peter just moments before seeing a sight that will change his life forever. This looks like Groom!Peter moments before a First Look photo on your wedding day!
Behold.
My Fluff:
This is probably fine for content but if you don't know all the lyrics to Smashmouth's "All Star" then you probably shouldn't be here on this blog anyway. 16+ for innuendo..
You had dreamed about your wedding day your whole life.
Okay, it wasn’t exactly out of the womb, but your first memory was of a wedding.
It was a cousin's wedding, when you were four. You remember grown ups dressing you up, and your aunts teaching you how to walk, and lots of strangers sitting and smiling at you when you did what your aunts instructed.
It’s a blurry, faded, watercolor in your mind, except for the bride. That sharp image stayed with you forever. Your cousin turned into a fairy princess, with a dress made of fluffy clouds, carrying a rainbow of flowers. She glided where you had just walked, floating on a beam of sunlight while music from heaven played celestial tunes.
Even as a child, it took your breath away. It was enchanting. Magic. From that moment on, you dreamed of your own fairytale wedding.
And today was that day.
You’d come a long way since then. You knew that your dream wedding wasn’t going to come from a fairy godmother. It took dedication. It took devotion. It took so, so many spreadsheets.
Months of planning, well— decades, actually— had come down to today.
The band was setting up. The centerpieces were being placed. The bridal party was working on final touch ups. Everything was going according to plan.
And running four minutes ahead of schedule, you thought proudly. You took a deep breath, not wanting to lose focus. You stood outside of a heavy oak door, a stone look of determination and resolve on your face.
“Okay, so like we talked about…” Your lead wedding photographer dictated to you, as she adjusted her radio earpiece with one hand and the aperture of her trusty 5D Mark III with the other. “I’m going to guide you in, walk you backwards. Slow it down. Be careful, let me guide you.”
It was more than a little patronizing, but you were too anxious to be annoyed by it. You exhaled slowly through rounded lips. Two assistant shutterbugs fluttered about, also with radio headsets, snapping and clicking like cicadas. A videographer with a gimbal hoisted above his head danced around you, biceps quaking and a sheen of sweat on his face.
The only one who wasn’t a bubbling volcano of energy was Reid. Reid stood in the back with headphones on, monitoring sound levels while he changed batteries on mic packs, completely and serenely apathetic.
It was surprising how much you envied Reid in that moment.
The Alpha Wedding Photographer went on, slowing her words to recapture your attention. “Hubby-to-Be will have his back to you. You’ll have your back to him, and then when I count to three, I want you both to turn around and face each other.”
You nodded. Your face was flushed. Was your face sweating? You read in a magazine when you were twelve that waterproof makeup was an absolute must on your wedding day and you were grateful you took that advice.
Despite the flush, your eyes held the stone cold resolve of a quarterback about to retake the field when both teams are in triple overtime and the score is tied.
Surely, this was the face of nuptial bliss.
“Okay, smileeee!” Alpha Team Leader beckoned you with a singsong cheer as she put her hand on the doorknob. You took the hint and wiped the anxiety from your expression, beaming brightly, even as your pulse pounding in your ears. You turned around and heard the sound of the door opening.
The only part of this whole day that you hadn’t imagined since you were five was the face of the man waiting on the other side. But the moment you saw Peter Parker, it was the only face you could ever dream of. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your lives together, and it was with that ferver that you planned every last detail of the most perfect day of your life.
Peter was smart enough to let you drive most of the decisions. Any time you’d ask for his opinion on specifics, he remained casual.
“All that matters to me, dove,” he’d said to you playfully, “is that you’re next to me at the altar.”
That was so incredibly sweet, but that wasn’t going to help you narrow down an elegant, eco-friendly prop for the post-ceremony exit toss. He was so easy going about everything it was starting to irritate you. He even seemed passive about the wedding photographers! (Sure, they were ranked in the Top 10 of WeddingWire’s Best Photographers For Boho Weddings for the last five years, but still.)
That’s why you were relieved when he finally spoke up about one, imperative request: He wanted to do a First Look. Coming from the guy who didn’t understand the concept of a Groom’s cake, that surprised you. But at least it was something.
To be honest, your inner sadist had always imagined your big reveal happening as you stepped onto the aisle, in classic, dramatic, opulent glory. Fourteen-year-old you pictured giant double doors swinging wide, as gasps erupted through the crowd. Your wedding guests blindsided by the grandeur of your devastating beauty.
Men would fawn. Women would cry out. Old ladies would clutch their bosoms. That bitchy girl from your volleyball team would avert her eyes in furious shame and envy.
Your Groom would fall to his knees, overcome with your splendor and tasteful choice in wedding dress designer, and weep.
But for Peter, this... small, reserved moment inside of the groom’s suite was the one thing he wouldnt budge on. A small sacrifice you were willing to make.
“One, two... three!”
The moment you turned around, you flashed back to that feeling you had when you were a little girl.
God, he was breathtaking. His normally floppy, thick hair swept intricately in place. Beautifully sculpted jawline. Glowing skin with a slash of warm freckles. Pillowy lips held slightly agape. Wide, glittering, bourbon-hued eyes that sparkled with an amber sheen when caught by the light from the nearby window.
Your eyes widened at the magnificence of him. He had been unsure of the jacket and tie you’d picked out, as non-traditional as it was. Seeing him in the flesh, you’d regretted nothing. His dark ensemble made him all the more delectable.
Your heart raced as the sight of him, drowning out the sound of clicking shutters and frantic footwork inside of the small room. The blush on his cheeks gave away that you must have been swooning. Despite that, he was rendered motionless by the sight of you. Completely dumbfounded. Speechless, even.
Mother Hubbard, wasn’t he going to say anything?
He breathed, “I... uh...”
A long pause. His mouth hung open. Your mind was running through a list of all of the things he could say. Any one of them would’ve satiated the hunger you had for his approval. The confirmation that this day, was in fact, perfect.
My God, you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen! ...You’re glowing! ... You complete me... You’re the most beautiful specimen to ever walk into a wedding venue... I have absolutely no regrets about my choice in marrying you!
“Wow,” he spat out under the wind that left his lungs.
And that was it. Wow.
He kept staring at you, or maybe even through you. It was hard to determine. And it was getting harder to keep the smile on your face, or hold back the sting you felt by his underwhelmed reaction. Even Reid seemed more excited as he opened a fresh pack of batteries.
“Can we, um... Sorry, uh— Give us some privacy, yeah?” Peter said finally, glancing over at the surrounding photographer team. The dancing videographer stopped immediately. The assistant photographers shot a concerned glance to the Alpha. She lowered her camera as well.
“Um, yeah! Sure! We’ll be right outside.”
They took their concerned looks out the door with them, leaving the two of you alone in the tiny suite. You looked over at Peter, a growing sense of alarm pushing out against your ribs. Even without Spanx, it would’ve been difficult to breathe.
He slowly took your hand in his, threading his fingers through yours. Eyes drifted down to the empty space on your ring finger, spotting the faint imprint of where the engagement ring had been. He stepped backwards towards a vanity behind him, pulling you along with each step. Your feet felt heavy, like you were stepping through mud. He slowly sat down in one of the chairs nearby, leaning against the backrest.
His eyes met yours again. They were tender. Soft. Unreadable.
“Pete?” you whispered meekly, alarm bells ringing.
“‘M’sorry, I just needed a minute, y’know?”
You toyed with the fabric of your gown. “Um. Okay. But... we’re sorta on a schedule here.”
“It can wait.”
“Well, the guests—”
“You’re the main event. They’ll wait.”
More silence. He remained stoic as he gazed up at you. You picked at your nails to hide the tremble in your hands, digging your voice out of the pit of your stomach.
“Do you... um...” You swallowed hard, flinching at the way your squeaked. “D’you like my dress?”
Your timid eyes met his. His jaw tensed and his head tilted with puzzlement, finally realizing what his laconic responses appeared to suggest.
“Yes,” he nodded, peering at you hopelessly. “I do. Really.” Letting your hand fall, Peter twisted around to the table top of the vanity, retrieving his old Electro 35 camera. Holding it up to his eyeline, he peered at you while visualizing his frame.
You quirked a brow at this. “You want to tell me why we have photographers that cost more than two-month’s rent waiting outside the door?”
“They won’t see you the way I do.” He glanced at you through the viewfinder.
You sighed, hesitant in your reply. “Wasn’t really sure you saw me at all.” He paused, looking at you suspiciously over the top of camera. You couldn’t hide your disappointment, despite your effort. “I just thought, um... I don’t know, I thought... You’d have more of a reaction, I guess.”
Peter lowered the camera slowly, setting it on his lap. A sly smirk slid across his face. “You’re gonna have to forgive me,” he replied. He gazed at you warmly, like basking in the glow of a sunrise. “I’ve been dreamin’ about this moment my whole life. And now that it’s in front of me... I just can’t believe how perfect it is.”
Your ministrations stopped. The pout fell from your features. Your misty eyes swelled like sparkling, ocean-wrapped orbs. A wave of heat rushed across your skin and stung the back of your eyes.
You’re gonna cry.
Waterproof mascara: a must-have.
He smirks as you preen.
Click.
The moment is captured as the picture is taken, immortalized in cellulose and silver salts. You’d look back on that photo fondly as the moment you’d lost any fear or regrets about marrying Peter Parker.
You sniffed back your tears. “You’re the love of my life.”
He set down the camera as he replied, “You’re my whole world.” His hands were reaching for you as soon as he said it, pulling you closer to his chair as he gazed up at you. A mere mortal staring up into the heavens, devastated by your beauty.
You beamed as you gazed down at him, your heart swelling. “I can’t wait to spend the rest—woah!”
You gasped as his fingers slipped up your thigh, over the lace garter, crawling towards the heat of your core. Completely disregarding the scheduled order of events.
“Hold still,” Peter eagerly replied, locking you into his hold as his hands slipped between your skin and your delicate clothing. “Before they come back.”
“What are you doing?” you exclaimed with a scandalized rasp.
“Jus' wingin' it,” he grinned wickedly. “I’ve only been picturing this part for about 2 minutes.”
RENEW YOUR VOWS with a reblog and/or comment! And thank you for supporting fandom writers!
#Lizzy writes.#Lizzy's 600.#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#andrew garfield peter parker x reader#peter parker imagines#tasm peter parker#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter x you#the amazing spiderman#tasm#peter parker fluff#spiderman fluff#peter parker au#wedding#peter parker oneshot#peter parker imagine#peter parker blurb#andrew garfield x reader#andrew garfield x you#andrew garfield spiderman#andrew garfield x female reader#peter parker andrew garfield#andrew garfield one shot#no way home#andrew garfield
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Smut #6 please?
Ok Anon...you asked for smut and I’m giving you utter filth!
Hope you enjoy! 💛
—————————
Prompt: "What, here?"
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Language, Smut [18+ Only], Mirror Sex, Semi-Public Sex.
Timeline: Set between C9 and C10 of ‘Brand New Day’.
Two hours.
For two whole hours, Kate’s mother had chirruped non-stop in her ear about wedding dresses and venues and flowers and colour schemes and Kate was a half-second away from frog-marching Hank down to the nearest courthouse just so she wouldn’t have to listen to one more comment about ‘how beautiful white roses are for table centrepieces.”
When her mother hurried off to discuss the pros and cons of a fall wedding with Kate’s aunt and a few harridans from her social club, Kate immediately went of search of her husband-to-be, eventually spotting him sitting alone in a quiet part of the garden, slowly rocking backwards and forwards on a swinging garden bench.
“Just shoot me now...put me out of my damn misery.” Kate grumbled, dropping down onto the bench next to him with an exhausted sigh.
“Not funny.” Hank chastised in response, peering down at her disapprovingly while simultaneously sliding an arm around her shoulders to pull her close to his chest, tugging her denim-clad legs into his lap and resting a warm palm on her shin.
Darkness had long fallen over the beautiful backyard of Kate’s childhood home but friends and family were still milling around the deck under the glow of fireworks and fairy lights, the sound of Sinatra crooning softly from the bluetooth speakers filling the warm open air around them. Alexis was in a milk-induced coma in Kate’s old bedroom and, for a few blissful moments, it was just the two of them.
“Too soon?” She tilted her head back against the soft cushions of the bench, gazing up at him with a wry smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “Now do you understand why I waited as long as I did to tell her?”
Hank had proposed to her four months ago and Kate had purposely held off on telling her mom because she knew she would behave like this. If she had her way, her mother would turn their beautiful, rustic wedding into a fucking circus. At least this way, she didn’t have much time to wreak her usual amount of havoc! And Kate had meant every word when she had told him that she didn't care where or how they got married; either way she got to call him her husband and that was all that mattered to her.
As much as she loved her family, spending an extended amount of time with them was often as comfortable as pulling teeth sans analgesia and yet he had taken everything in his stride, charming everyone from her cousin’s gregarious toddler to her offensive grandmother with a handsome smile and warm, twinkling eyes. Just when she thought she couldn’t love him anymore, he continued to surprise her with his seemingly never-ending capacity for patience; both with her and her crazy relatives.
She was pulled from her thoughts by his palm sliding up and over her shins, fingertips tracing the seam of her jeans along the inside of her knee until his hand was wedged between her thighs, a sexy smirk sliding onto his face.
“Perhaps I can take your mind off our upcoming nuptials, hmm?” He hummed, leaning in to push a featherlight kiss to the soft patch of skin behind her ear, his lips tugging into a smile when she visibly trembled.
“I shouldn’t have to have my mind taken off our upcom-wait, where’re we going?”
Hank had eased her legs back to the floor and pushed to his feet, pulling a confused Kate along behind him as he headed towards the house. As they passed her mother and her harem of friends, Hank graced them all with a handsome smile, winking at the middle-aged woman closest to him who’s cheeks instantly flamed an unsightly shade of salmon.
“You realise you’re basically like catnip for those women, right?” Kate snorted when they were finally in the house and out of earshot, still following Hank blindly from room to room until he ducked into the small downstairs bathroom on the other side of the expansive property, pulling her in behind him and closing the door with a sharp snap.
The second the door was shut he was on her, his hands sliding over the gentle curve of her waist as he crowded her against the marble vanity, his lips seizing hers in a bruising kiss.
“What’re you doing?” She breathed in between trading passionate kisses, her eyes fluttering closed as Hank’s palms burrowed beneath the hem of her shirt, hands gliding over the warm skin of her back as he pulled her flush against his chest.
“Taking your mind off it.”
He was taking her mind off it alright. He had wedged a thigh between her parted legs and her hips instinctively began to rock against the firm muscle in search of glorious friction.
“What, here?” She whispered, her breath hitching as she tipped her head backwards to give him the space he needed to litter her throat with a myriad of soft kisses and sharp nips.
“Mmm-hmm...right here.”
All rational thought and common sense disappeared at the sound of his deep, gritty voice rasping in her ear, her core throbbing in arousal with each touch of his lips against her feverish skin.
“Hank, we can’t...what if someone hears us?” She tried but, as much as her mouth said ‘this probably isn’t a smart decision’, her body seemed to be more than happy to throw all caution to the wind if it meant easing the flaming inferno burning low in her belly.
“Then you better stay quiet.” He hummed mischievously against her throat as his hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping the well-fitting denim and tugging them down over the swell of her ass. Sealing his lips over hers, Hank slipped his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth, the two muscles languidly rolling against one another, a deep, pulsing current of electric arousal surging between them.
It didn’t matter if it was a soft and chaste or frantic and tongue-filled, Kate loved kissing Hank Voight. The way he would suck her lower lip into his mouth, humming softly as he laved at the plump flesh with his tongue. The way he would draw in a sharp breath through his nose only to release a tight groan of pleasure when she sucked a bruise into the sensitive skin of his throat. She loved the way he touched her, the way he reverently tasted her while mapping out every ridge and valley her mouth had to offer. But the thing she loved the most was that she was going to spend the rest of her life kissing him as frequently and as deeply as possible.
Breaking away from her lips to trace his hot mouth along the line of her jaw, he paused briefly to quietly growl his next command directly into her ear.
“Turn around.”
With her jeans bunched around her knees, Kate allowed herself to be turned towards the vanity, her eyes locking with his in the mirror as he pushed his torso flush against her back, palms resting on her waist as he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to the nape of her neck.
The jangle of his belt buckle echoed around the small space, her eyes fluttering closed at the telltale metallic clink signalling that he was in the process of releasing himself from his jeans.
“Eyes open honey.” He murmured, one hand returning to her hip once he had shoved his jeans and boxers down far enough to free his stiff length. “You’re gonna watch me while I fuck you.”
She could only whimper in response to his heated words, all thoughts of the wedding long forgotten as he urged her down towards the white porcelain with a firm palm between her shoulder blades, dipping the fingers of his free hand between her thighs to pull her lace panties to the side.
"So wet for me.” He cooed, stepping up close behind her to guide his flushed tip between her sopping folds.
And with one smooth, deep, thrust, he was inside her; pelvis pressed tight to the firm globes of her ass as he took a brief second to enjoy the way her body clutched him in a perfect, velvet grip. Releasing a slow breath, he slipped both palms beneath the hem of her shirt to settle on her hips, easing back until only the wide crest remained nestled inside of her before pushing firmly back in until he was buried to the hilt.
“Fuck yes!”
Kate’s terse groan filled the little bathroom, her forearms braced on the cool surface as she pushed back against him, groaning at the delicious stretch, desperate to have every hot, hard inch of him deep inside her.
“Shhh, you want your mother to hear how you moan for me?”
Hank braced his palms on the smooth marble surface, caging her body against the vanity as he bottomed out, grinding against her with a purposeful, slow roll of his hips.
“Christ, can you not talk about my mother while you’re doin’...that.” She breathed, her spine dipping into a perfect arch when the tip of his cock brushed against the sweet spot inside her that had her seeing stars.
“What? This?”
He repeated the movement again, his lips quirking into a smug, satisfied smirk when Kate’s head fell forwards, her chin dropping to her chest as she frantically tried to stifle her whine of pleasure.
Sliding his hands under her shirt, he skated his palms over her taut stomach to squeeze her lace-clad breasts, tugging the cups down to tweak her already-stiff nipples into tight peaks as he pulled her flush against his chest, her head lolling backwards onto his shoulder.
“Uhhh yes...yes...right there.”
Their jagged breathing and the sound of colliding flesh echoed around them like an erotic symphony, Hank’s warm breath ghosting over the damp skin of her neck, his hips pumping rhythmically against her.
“C’mon Kate, open your eyes...watch us.”
Her eyes fluttered open, immediately finding his in the reflection, taking in their sweaty, flushed complexions and undulating bodies. She tracked the movement of his right hand as it skated down the soft skin of her belly, slipping beneath the lace of her underwear to settle at the apex of her thighs, fingertips instantly seeking her slick, swollen bud.
“Mmm…you wanna come baby?”
Her thighs trembled, fingers clawing at his bare forearms as she nodded frantically, tongue darting out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. Through the thick haze of lust, Kate idly wondered how it was possible for such a sweet, endearing nickname to sound so utterly filthy from his lips.
“Please…”
Kate balanced on the edge of bliss for a few long moments, her entire world narrowing down to where his flesh touched hers; his teeth nipping at her shoulder, the pads of his fingers gliding over her aching clit, his thick cock surging so deep she knew she'd still be feeling him tomorrow.
“Come for me, need to feel you.”
At his whispered command, Kate dutifully complied, her inner walls clamping down with such a force that he was almost completely expelled from her body. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, the sheer power of her climax triggering Hank’s as he thrust against her one final time, filling her with thick ribbons of white hot release. For a few long beats they simply stood joined together, both of them breathing heavy, Hank’s heart thrumming frantically against Kate’s back as he continued to throb and twitch inside of her.
“You alright?” He breathed after a moment, sliding his hand out of her underwear to rest against her hip, his mouth grazing gently along her shoulder.
Kate hummed in response, shifting slightly in his arms until he slipped from her body, giving her just enough space to turn and peer up at him with flushed cheeks and an almost shy expression on her face.
“Full marks for distraction techniques, Sarg.” She chuckled, leaning in to brush her lips against his in a soft, gentle kiss.
“Glad I could be of service.” He responded wryly, plucking a tissue from the ornate box on the counter to clean up before tucking himself back into his boxers and refastening his jeans.
“Just gimme a minute to cl-”
“Oh no.” He interrupted with a deep chuckle, reaching out to carefully adjust the black lace back onto her hips. “You’re gonna spend the rest of the night with me inside you...one way or another.”
“God, you’re so fucking filthy.” She groaned, immediately fusing her mouth to his in a sloppy, tongue-filled kiss, the fading embers of lust surging back to life at the thought of holding a conversation with her mother’s prissy, straight-laced friends with his release saturating her panties.
“You love it.” He growled in response, gripping the hem of her jeans and tugging the denim back up over her thighs, nimble fingers re-buttoning her jeans before dropping a chaste peck to the tip of her nose. “C’mon, let’s get outta here before they send a search party.”
With a parting wink, Hank slipped out into the hallway, leaving Kate to count to a slow twenty in her head before she followed suit but, the second she swung the door open, she walked head-long into her brother, her forehead bouncing off of his chest with a quiet ‘oomph’ of surprise.
“Matt…hi.”
Kate was a fantastic undercover detective having spent months on end infiltrating some of the world’s most prevalent gangs and organised crime syndicates but, if there was one person on this earth she couldn’t lie to, it was her big brother. And she could tell with one glance at his amused, albeit slightly surprised expression, that he knew exactly what she had been up to in that bathroom.
“Baby sister.” He greeted wryly, folding his arms across his chest as he casually leaned against a nearby doorframe, his crystal blue eyes appraising her carefully. The painful silence stretched on and Kate vaguely wondered if Hank had managed to escape undetected but she was pulled from her thoughts when Matthew eventually spoke.
“We, uh, gonna talk about-”
“Nope.” Kate interjected with a shake of her head.
“So you weren’t just-”
He jerked his thumb in the general direction of the bathroom, lifting a disbelieving eyebrow but, despite the steady blush that continued to creep over her flaming cheeks, Kate lifted her chin to meet his gaze steadily.
“Nope.”
“Alright, glad we cleared that up.” He snorted, flatting his back to the doorframe, allowing Kate to pass and she was so close to successfully avoiding what would probably have been one of the most embarrassing conversations of her life when he called her name, immediately halting her hasty exit.
“You, uh, might wanna go back in there and do somethin’ about your hair...you look like you just got railed in the bathroom by your fiancé.”
She was going to fucking kill him.
#hank voight#hank voight fanfiction#chicago pd#chicago pd fanfiction#hank voight smut#hank voight fluff#hank voight imagine#hank voight one shot#hank voight x ofc#smut#fluff#writer#prompt#fanfiction
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Inside Rita Ora and Taika Waititi’s Intimate, Never-Before-Seen Los Angeles Wedding
“She proposed to me, and I said yes instantly,” filmmaker Taika Waititi says of how he and singer-songwriter Rita Ora became engaged. While the pair first met at a barbecue in 2018 that Taika hosted at his house in L.A., it wasn’t until 2021, when they were both filming in Australia, that they began dating. Rita popped the question while the pair were on vacation in Palm Springs in the summer of 2022, and they planned an impromptu wedding to be held in Los Angeles a few weeks later, on August 4. “It wasn’t in London or in France like everyone reported,” Taika clarifies. “It was in L.A. with a small group of friends.”
“At our home!” Rita notes.
“Our address was…no, I’m just joking,” Taika says, laughing.
Over the past year, the two have gotten a kick out of the misinformation about their nuptials that has spread like wildfire across the internet. “It’s actually been quite entertaining for us to see the different stories people made up and all the while getting to keep it to ourselves,” Rita admits. “And, I love that we now get to share what really happened—and to do it on our one-year anniversary, no less!”
As far as the planning process goes, there wasn’t one: The entire event was dreamed up and executed in just two weeks. “There were about eight people there—just close friends and family, and parents on Zoom,” Taika says, noting he was particularly thrilled to have his best friend Jemaine Clement fly all the way over from New Zealand for the last-minute ceremony. “It was really us and my sister, Elena,” Rita says. “Elena to the rescue!”
The bride wore a Tom Ford dress and Lorraine Schwartz jewels for the intimate ceremony. “Tom Ford is one of my favorite designers of all time and favorite humans in general,” Rita says. “He’s now one of my close friends, and I adore and admire him so much. To get married in his dress was a dream come true. And because it wasn’t planned, I didn’t know if the right dress was even going to be in town, and I just took the risk and went to the Tom Ford shop, and they had it perfectly waiting with the veil, in my size, no alterations needed to be done. I mean, it was like it was meant to be, to be honest. And it just made me so happy.”
Sami Knight styled the bride’s hair in soft, loose curls, and Anthony H. Nguyen created a natural, glowy makeup look. Meanwhile, the groom wore Brunello Cucinelli (and received a touch-up or two from Rita’s makeup artist along the way).
For the ceremony itself, the couple kept things simple. “I wore my mum’s pearls that she got married in. My sister, Elena, put [the bracelet] on my wrist. It was beautiful,” Rita says. “My sister walked me down the aisle, and it was just really simple and blissful and calm and private and fun.”
“Yeah, it was beautiful,” Taika adds. “Just having close friends and not having it too big. We didn’t have table settings or any of the stressful things that go along with weddings, and it was nice to just have it super-simple. My daughters were there, and they made everything really fun and easy: I think just because we didn’t have the pressure of having caterers and all of these things, you know, people turning up late, and all of the different moving parts.”
“I felt really peaceful actually,” Rita says. “It was almost like another day. We just all dressed up and got married.”
After the ceremony, Rita and Taika went to their friend Guy Oseary’s house for a dinner party. “He was so kind to host us at the last minute,” says Rita. “We got a group of people together, and we just had a great time!” As a surprise wedding gift from a friend, an Elvis impersonator showed up to serenade them, before everyone danced the night away to a playlist of the couple’s own making.
A year later, they both are still reveling in newlywed bliss. “It’s still working!” Taika exclaims. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”
“Same. I can’t believe it’s been a year,” Rita says. “It feels like nothing’s changed since the day I met him at the barbecue. It just feels so good to be with my best friend.”
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are you accepting prompts, still? because i'm wondering if you can write one where Kal had an owner who was not Marcus, and Marcus had a slave who was not Kal, and they were in the same circle (so, not strangers) but then met again after the annexation (kinda like when they did at the baths). happy ending for them or something that implies an eventual happy ending is preferred, but i kinda want to see how you'd write it if Kal pretty much had a Julius, and how they would react to finding themselves in love with someone who had been a slave/owner, and where they don't have such a deep history like in canon. it's completely okay if this doesn't strike your fancy! but if you do take this on, feel free to change the prompt up if needed, and thank you in advance <3
I love this so much, and especially happy to do prompts for you ❤️
This version of Kal is a bit meaner, but tbh Marcus could use a bit of meanness.
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Marcus excused himself from Horatio's engagement party and took his champagne out to the veranda; the press of nuptial bliss was rather too much for him. Cyril had given him a polite but cool dismissal after their chance meeting at the bathhouse, and no wonder with his own upcoming wedding to that Eubelia woman. Marcus leaned on the railing of the veranda and found himself next to the painter who'd done Horatio's engagement portrait.
Kallius–Marcus thought that was his name, having only caught it in passing–gave him a sidelong look as he smoked his cigarette, face half lit in the dark. He was quite pretty, aside from the broken nose.
“Nice to finally meet you, Sieur Nothus,” Marcus said, trying to be polite after his debacle with Cyril. “Your work's very highly spoken of.”
Kallius gave him a sardonic, sideways smile. “We've met before,” he said, blowing out smoke.
Marcus frowned, trying to place where they'd met. He'd fucked plenty of pretty blond whores before Cyril, and with a name like that, Kallius could hardly have been anything else before the annexation, but Marcus thought a friend of Cyril's would have thrown that at him more directly. Not that he'd have turned down a pretty face like that one, even with the broken nose. Marcus snapped his fingers as he recalled. “That production of the Penelopiad where the Odysseus forgot the lines for his eagle dream,” Marcus said, pleased with himself for remembering.
Kallius laughed under his breath. “With Julius Caecinae, yes,” he said. He took another drag of his cigarette, watching Marcus' reaction. His nose hadn't been broken the last time Marcus had seen him, quiet and pretty and kneeling at Julius’ feet during that visit. He hadn't thought much of Julius' boy at all, except to idly wonder about asking Julius to borrow him.
“Yes,” Marcus said awkwardly, finally recalling what Julius had told him about the cause of Kallius’ broken nose. An ungrateful little sneak thief, Julius had caught him with a pocketful of change trying to run off; Marcus hadn't seen him after that and hadn't thought at the time to ask what had become of him. Marcus supposed Julius hadn't had much to do with Kallius' subsequent training as a painter.
“Shame about our old friend’s arrest,” Kallius said, still watching Marcus in the dark, as though weighing him.
“Ten years’ hard labor seems a bit much for a scuffle at the bathhouse,” Marcus said. Julius’ arrest and conviction a few weeks ago had all been rather sudden.
Kallius smiled brightly, like this was very funny; he was really very exceptionally pretty. “Our good friend found out I had his debts called in by Cyril's dear wife,” Kallius said with that brilliant smile, suddenly much more dangerous than he'd been a moment ago. Marcus, stupid as he was, still thought he'd fuck him given half a chance. “He didn't only try to punch me.”
“Oh,” Marcus said, contemplating Julius having broken Kallius' nose over a handful of change and what he must have done when confronted with the absolute mountain of debts that Kallius must have had called in. “Oh,” he said again.
“Oh,” Kallius echoed sarcastically.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I never said anything to Julius, before. I didn't think–I just didn't think.”
Kallius laughed, a delighted sound that Marcus wanted to hear again; he'd never understood why Julius liked to make his pretty boys cry. “I don't suppose you did,” Kallius said, and ground out his cigarette on the veranda. “Care for a game of cards? I cheat better than Julius.”
–
Marcus lost more than a dozen hands of whist but that was fine because after the sixth Kallius' hand was on his thigh under the table and by the end of it Kallius gave him a rather significant look. Following him up the stairs, Marcus found himself yanked inside a bedroom and shoved up against the door.
“When can I see you again?” Marcus breathlessly asked the ceiling after, very pleasantly wrung out and lying on Kallius' bed.
Kallius laughed, fishing his cigarette case off the floor. Besides the broken nose, he had a fine network of lash scars across his back and knife scars across his arms and shoulders. Some Julius’ work and some from being drafted into the militia, Marcus guessed. “When can you fuck me again, you mean?” he asked, lighting his cigarette.
Marcus smiled crookedly. He liked Kallius' brash cheekiness more than he'd expected, and wouldn't say no to spanking the brattiness out of him. “That too,” Marcus said. “But I'd like to take you to dinner and the theater first next time.”
Kallius laughed again, more curt this time. “Absolutely not. We're not friends, Marcus,” he said, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. Marcus sat up and frowned. “I wanted to see if you'd let me fuck you, you did, and now we're done.” Kallius paused, considering Marcus with a surreptitious glance at the door over Marcus’ shoulder. “Are you going to make something of it?” Kallius asked, like asking about the weather despite his sudden tension.
“No,” Marcus said, jerking back like he'd been slapped. “I just–had a very pleasant evening, is all. I'd like to do it again sometime.”
This version of Kal is a bit meaner, but tbh Marcus could use some meanness.
Kallius considered him, the smoke from his cigarette hanging low in the room. “Well,” he said eventually, flicking ash on the floor with a not particularly kind smile. “I suppose if you'd like to suck my cock I'll be at the bathhouse most afternoons.”
“I'll be there,” Marcus said before he could think better of it.
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I don't have time to finish this properly, but let's imagine this ends with another 80k of Kal being kind of mean and pushing Marcus' boundaries in revenge for Julius until Kal catches feelings. Messed up in a different direction.
The Kal/Julius confrontation in this is a bit closer to what I had drafted for Kal/Marcus' reunion in the way, way very first draft, which started off as a noncon porn oneshot with a Bad Marcus who was more of a mashup of Lucian and Julius, and then I reworked the draft a bit to be a more drawn out dubcon thing with an ambiguously bad ending, but it just kept getting pulled in a more fluffy direction.
#snippet#ask#kal#marcus#julius#cyril in this took one look at marcus and went lol no#rip og kal and his terrible taste in marcus
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