#with my mother it's the alcoholism and the fact that i feel like she can't fucking stand me
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but i got so wrapped up in actually spending a pleasant few hours with my mother that for a few minutes i forgot i lived in a world where my relationship with my father is just one (1) honest conversation away from completely evaporating as well
#truly hashtag blessed to have shitty relationships with both my parents 😍#personal#with my mother it's the alcoholism and the fact that i feel like she can't fucking stand me#not to mention what she put me and my sister through during out childhood but most of that can be blamed on the alcoholism as well#for my dad it's actually more complex because at no point in my life am i not hyperaware of him abandoning me and my sister back then#he was supposed to PROTECT us and get us out of that environment instead he just spent all of his time at work#just so he didn't have to spend it with our mother which. i get. but he was our FATHER. he was supposed to be there for us.#and whenever i used to come to him for help (and even now because my mom is still an alcoholic and awful) he would just sigh#and act like there is nothing he can do.#and i hate hate hate that i am 27 years old and i still go to my dad and ask him for help and he still doesn't do ANYTHING#i am 27 and yet i am still that 12 year old girl crying and asking him to get a divorce and get me and my sister out#i am still that 8 year old girl asking him why he's gone all the time and leaving us with someone who can't even take care of herself#i am still screaming inside of me and begging my dad for help and he is still ignoring me#and i usually have a good relationship with my dad because we just don't talk about all of that#but every time we have a fight over like the most stupid things a part of me that hates him for abandoning me just wonders why#why are we trying that hard for him when he doesn't for us#why do we take the time explaining our autism symptoms and our problems discerning and using tone#when at the next fight he uses my tone against me anyway again.#why do we explain to him how much it hurts to be ignored by anyone (an issue that STEMS FROM HIM)#when he does it just to hurt me at the next petty fight anyway.#and a part of me just feels like he isn't entitled to getting mad at me at all because i NEVER got mad at him for abandoning me#i never yelled at him even though i wanna and i never blamed him to his face i was mature and i didn't bring it up#and now he has the AUDACITY to get mad at me for telling him to clean up after himself because i 'said it in an accusatory tone'??#i know this seems unfair of me but he doesn't get to do that. not when he abandoned me in hell when i was only 5 fucking years old#maybe even younger idk how long my mother has been a drinker#he doesn't get to get angry with me over stupid shit not when he abandoned me as a child and i never got angry at him for it#not when he ignored all my pleading and suffering and didn't do SHIT to help me#i don't think i will ever get over this. i don't think i will ever have a normal relationship with either of my parents.#i don't think i will ever get over my childhood. i don't think i can. i don't know how to.#anyway.
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Lose Control (Aegon x Niece!Reader)
Summary: Aegon knew it would never work. But did he care? Of course not. You were one of few members of his family who didn't look at him like he was a failure. Was it love? He didn't know. But he never felt whole without you.
(Based on Lose Control by Teddy Swims)
TW: She/Her pronouns, canon-typical incest (uncle x niece), afab reader, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, oral (f receiving), fingering, semi-public, innuendo, profanity.
Words: 2,985
kēlītsos = little cat, kitten
I apologise now, but this isn't a 'happy' ending.
Something's got a hold of me lately. No, I don't know myself anymore.
You were off limits, Aegon knew that. The fact had been drilled into him by his mother time after time. His niece, the only one who looked at him with some modicum of love or affection. He didn’t know if you felt the same, but he could pretend every time you would smile at him, or your hands would linger against his just a moment longer than needed.
But how could he not want you? You were beautiful. He didn’t care about the rumours that surrounded your parentage. Those dark curls, eyes so brown they could be mistaken for black. All the things that people used to paint you a bastard, he found to be the most beautiful things in the world.
His thoughts were consumed by you, even when you weren’t around. Everything reminded him of you. The more he thought of you, the more he remembered he couldn’t have you and the further he sank into his cups.
The day you left for Dragonstone with your mother had broken him beyond belief. Wine and whores barely fill the void you left behind.
Feels like the walls are all closin' in. And the devil's knockin' at my door, whoa… Out of my mind, how many times. Did I tell you I'm no good at bein' alone?
Aegon stumbled back into his chambers. The third night this week that he’d spent drowning his sorrows in some dingy tavern. Word had come that your mother was returning to King’s Landing with you and your brothers. The petitions for the seat at Driftmark were to be heard, and your brother Lucerys’ claim was being questioned.
Aegon would see you again, and it terrified him.
He was embarrassed of the kind of man he’d become in your absence. A drunk, chasing whatever skirt he could. Fear set in, knowing you’d see him like this.
The morning of your return had come, but Aegon couldn’t bring himself to leave his bed. He was a mess in so many ways. The scent of wine still lingered on his breath and skin from the night before. Sun streamed in through his window, and he quickly sunk back under his sheets.
But his peace was short lived, the door to his chambers slamming open and the harsh words of his mother filling the room. Aegon groaned, it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time his mother would ever berate him this way. But he was in no mood for it.
The sound of her admonishments faded to muffled noise as Aegon tried to rub the sleep from his features. But his actions seemed to only antagonise her more. Heavy limbs rolled from his bed, gripping the sheet around his body as he stood.
His mother’s tirade stopped at his movement, her words faltering.
“I will not apologise, for it falls on deaf ears. Now if you don’t mind, I fear I require a bath.”
Aegon grumbled, wanting nothing more than to escape Alicent’s harsh words.
He ignored anything else that came from her lips, walking away and towards his thankfully, already filled bath.
I lose control. When you're not next to me (when you're not here with me). I'm fallin' apart right in front of you, can't you see?
You didn’t want to be here. None of your memories of the Red Keep were particularly fond. Well, save for a few. The times spent with your uncle, Aegon, would always bring a smile to your face when you thought of them. When he would sneak to your chambers, cakes in hand, demanding you come to the gardens with him. Why?
Because he missed you.
Back then, you thought little of it, simply thinking your uncle was being kind, as an uncle should be. But when you think of those moments now? Heat filled your belly and a blush bloomed on your cheeks. The evenings spent curled up next to him beneath a tree in the royal gardens, lips sticky from the cakes he always brought, his arms wrapped tight around you and your head on his chest. Those moments had seemed so innocent then.
The reactions of your mother told you now, that they were not. The way your mother had demanded you stop sneaking out in the evenings with him – how spending time alone with any boy in such a way was unbecoming.
But Aegon was the only one who didn’t tease you about your dark hair and eyes – you knew the rumours well enough. Instead, he told you how pretty you were. Comparing your eyes to embers and your hair to the finest chocolate.
Now, you stood at Jace’s side, listening to your mother talk to some lord or another.
“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to sneak off to find Aegon.” Jace whispered, only earning an eye roll from you. Your brother was one of few aware of just how much time you had once spent with Aegon.
Luckily for you, he’d never told your mother. As far as Rhaenyra was concerned, the moment she’d forbade you from spending time with your uncle, you had stopped. Instead, you had simply hidden your meetings better. Swearing your brother to secrecy when he caught you one night.
You ignored Jace’s comment because no answer you gave would keep that smirk off his face. Finally, after what seemed like the longest time, your mother turned and gave you and your brothers permission to spend some time to yourselves before the petitions. You didn’t miss the sideways glance Jace gave you as you hurried away.
I lose control. When you're not next to me, mm-hm. Yeah, you're breakin' my heart, baby. You make a mess of me.
He was washed, dressed, the alcohol feeling like it was seeping out of his skin as he wandered through the corridors. He had no destination in mind, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into his bed. But he also had no desire to listen to another of his mother’s verbal lashings against him . And even more so, he was terrified of seeing you.
Would you hate him as he is now? Would you be embarrassed of him?
Aegon was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming towards him, his eyes trained solely on the stone floor before him. So, when he collided with the soft form of another person, he was knocked near off balance. As he scrambled to stay upright, he was greeted with a very familiar head of deep brown waves.
“Uncle?”
Your voice. A voice he had imagined hearing time and time again for the past six years. But when you said his name, he finally met your gaze. The faintest of smiles finding his lips, while his eyes remained just a little glazed from the wine he’d already consumed.
You were here. You were here and you were as beautiful as ever. The deep red of your gown makes those warm curls even deeper in colour. It was only when he felt your hand on his arm that he realised he hadn’t spoken a word.
“Do I render you speechless still?” you smiled; your hand rested on his forearm.
“Always, kēlītsos.” He smiled, watching you blush at the name.
Kitten, so called for the way you always used to curl up next to him, safe under his arm. A sweet name that now had your cheeks hot. It was the way he said it, voice lower than you remembered. But you could smell the faint scent of wine on his breath, and you now realised that the stories of his love of alcohol were true.
Six years had changed you both in more ways than one.
Problematic. Problem is I want your body like a fiend, like a bad habit. Bad habits hard to break when I'm with you.
Aegon hadn’t paid attention to a single word spoken during the petitions. He could care less about who inherited Driftmark. His eyes never left you. He didn’t care who saw him staring. He didn’t care if you saw him staring. Seeing you again had awoken every feeling for you he’d once had. And then some.
He’d ignored his mother when she demanded he leave the wine alone. He couldn’t handle court sober, never mind having to stay away from you. Now, the room swayed just a little, but the fog on his brain was a welcome distraction from you.
The petitions had gone as well as expected – if seeing Lord Vaemond beheaded was expected. The whole family was on edge, but Aegon was comfortably in a wine induced calm.
So, when you walked in, arms linked with Jace, he had little control of the expression on his face. Disgust at the sight of you so close to your brother, a closeness that had once been reserved for only him. He filled his cup again, no amount of wine in the world would likely make him feel better now.
You sat in the only available seat, between Jace and Aegon. You tried to catch your uncle’s gaze, but he seemed to be looking anywhere but at you and it made you feel ever so slightly hurt. Had you done something to upset him?
Problematic. Problem is when I'm with you, I'm an addict.
The supper ended swiftly the moment your brother hit Aemond, provoked of course. The two princes had never been close. You stood with your mother; fists clenched as you watched Aegon pin Luke to the table. There was no love lost between the uncles and nephews, but seeing Aegon treat Luke that way infuriated you.
You stormed from the hall, ignoring the shout of your mother. It was only then that Aegon released Luke, shoving the boy away and drunkenly hurrying after you.
He’d fucked up and he knew it.
He could hear the clack of your boots on the stones, and he knew where you’d be going. The gardens. Your haven, one you once shared with him.
“I don’t appreciate being followed, uncle.” you called out, stopping just short of the entrance to the garden.
Aegon was quick to stop behind you, the wine making him unsteady. But he wasn’t going to miss this chance to have you alone.
“You are drunk, Aegon.”
The accusation, while true, hurt coming from you. Embarrassment flooded him as he tried to find an excuse. But the words went silent on his tongue. He was drunk, yes, but not as drunk as you seemed to think he was.
“It is a common occurrence for you now, I hear. Wine and whores?” Your voice wasn’t as angry as he expected, but having you know such things about him made him sick.
“Nothing more than distractions for a life that is quite tedious.” Aegon replied, doing his best to hold your gaze, blue meeting brown for the first time truly in six years.
“And what makes your life so tedious, I am sure there are many who would revel in the life of a prince.” You answered, turning to continue your walk to the garden, knowing he would follow.
And follow he did, wanting nothing more now than to be in your presence. A presence he’d missed. A presence he’d craved for six years. Even if you seemed frustrated.
“You know exactly what…” he snapped back, the wine loosening his tongue just a little. There was a chance this would be the last time he’d see you, knowing the state of the family, and he wasn’t going to waste a moment.
“Six years without you, kēlītsos, has been a very long time.”
You stiffened at that. Was he blaming his problems on you? You stopped dead, turning on your heel to face him, watching as he stumbled when he stopped short of colliding with you.
“And you think it has been easy on me?” Your words came out quieter than you thought, your anger failing as you saw the sadness in his eyes, eyes that had once seemed so bright now seemed sallow and hollow.
“I did not want to leave. My home is here, with you.”
Aegon froze, chewing on the skin of his lip. Any anger he’d felt slipped away almost instantly. You hadn’t wanted to go. Those words sparked the smallest ember of hope in him. Maybe, just maybe, you felt as he did.
“I have spent every moment of those six years missing you.”
He heard nothing else, the wine in his belly fuelling his emotions beyond his control. His rough hands finding your cheeks, pulling you to him as he kissed you. The kiss was messy but reciprocated. Mere seconds passed before you curled a hand into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him tight against you. A kiss filled with years of love, passion… and lust. Aegon’s hands moved from your cheeks to your waist, pressing his body against yours as he backed you towards a nearby wall. Thankfully the gardens were quiet in the evenings.
You only pulled away to catch your breath, remembering quickly that Aegon had been drinking. As had you, but Aegon had consumed far more than you had.
“You are drunk, Aegon…”
“Not so much that I am unable to think clearly.” He replied, wanting nothing more than to kiss you again.
His hands played with the fabric of your gown, keeping your body pinned between his and the wall. He couldn’t let you go, not now. Not without knowing if you felt as he had all this time.
“Tell me you don’t want this, and I will go.” He whispered, his forehead now resting against yours.
You wanted to tell him you didn’t because it would be easier down the line. Easier to lie and break his heart now than be truthful and have to leave him again. But you did. By the gods, you did. While you’d loved him for longer than you could remember, love was not on your mind at this moment.
“I want this…I want you. I always have.” Your breath fanned across his lips as you spoke, body inching closer on instinct.
Aegon closed the distance, his kiss gentle though his hands now gripped your waist hard. The red fabric now fisted tight in his hands as he slipped his thigh between your own. Your body responded naturally, heat flooding you as his lips slid down to your jaw then your neck. He knew he couldn’t go so far as to take your virtue, but he needed something.
And I need some relief, my skin in your teeth. Can't see the forest through the trees. Got me down on my knees, darlin' please, oh…
Your breath hitched as he bunched your gown in his hands, fingers pressed against the fabric of your small clothes. A touch you’d only dreamt about. Wondering what it would feel like to have him touch you so intimately.
The reality had your mouth dry and your flesh searing. Hips canting to meet the deft movements of his fingers. His face buried in your neck as you sighed out in pleasure. You shouldn’t be doing this, and you knew it. All you could focus on was pleasure, not right and wrong. Your own hand soon found the hard length in the front of his breeches, palming him slowly.
Aegon wanted nothing more than to feel you. To commit those soft sounds to memory. To feel your skin on his.
“Aegon…” you breathed, your hands finding the mess of silver waves atop his head.
His name had never sounded so perfect, and he wanted to hear it again. His hands kept a grip on your waist as he dropped to his knees before you, ignoring the confused glance you shot down to him. You soon had your answer when his nose brushed against the fabric of your small clothes, his hand gripping your thigh as he lifted it over his shoulder.
“What are you-“ your words fell silent as he mouthed at you through your undergarments, his name a moan falling from your lips.
Your hand found his hair again, wanting nothing more than for him to keep going. And when his fingers tugged the fabric aside, bearing your flesh to him, all sense was lost.
“So delicious, my sweet girl,” he cooed, licking a hot stripe between your folds.
No man had ever touched you this way, and you wanted no other man but Aegon to touch you this way again. A dream, of course, but one you wanted so desperately. And he lapped at you like a man starved, groaning against your skin at the taste of you, the sound enough to have pleasure shooting up your spine.
And soon the knot in your belly snapped, hands tightening in his hair as you panted his name. Aegon only stopped his ministrations when you pushed him away. With a final kiss to your inner thigh, he stood.
“You are mine, kēlītsos, and you always have been.”
I lose control. When you're not next to me (when you're not here with me). I'm fallin' apart right in front of you, can't you see?
Morning had come. You didn’t remember returning to Aegon’s chambers but that was where you woke. Wrapped in his arms and feeling safer than ever. It would not last. It never did. Shouts from outside the door told you that. And the door crashing open, revealing the furious face of your mother made it crystal clear to Aegon.
You were off limits. He knew that. He’d hoped it would change. But when morning came, the harsh words directed at you by your mother told you it never would. And his dreams become nightmares as you leave him again.
I lose control. When you're not next to me, mm-hm. Yeah, you're breakin' my heart, baby. You make a mess of me.
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon x reader#aegon the second#aegon targaryen x reader#reader insert#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii fic
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Crawling Back to You
(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)
A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.
Word Count: 8k+
Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.
Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)
Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader
Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)
Previous< First Love/Late Spring
Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea
Secret's that I’ve held in my heart
Are harder to hide then I thought.
Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys
The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.
The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.
His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.
Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.
Warrior.
Brother of the people.
He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.
They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.
They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.
The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.
The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.
His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.
Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.
Still, the younger man gathers his courage.
“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”
Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.
Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.
Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”
Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”
“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”
Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.
“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.
He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.
It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.
Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-
“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.
Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.
Only one person.
The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.
You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.
Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.
He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.
He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.
He just has to find you first.
Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-
“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.
She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.
He’s greeted by his family-
And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.
It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.
“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”
Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.
“I don't have time for this-”
“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.
He doesn't like her tone.
Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.
Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.
“What happened?”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.
He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.
“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”
“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-
“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.
She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.
The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.
He doesn’t feel that way now.
He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-
And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-
He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.
You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-
“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.
Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-
“Kiri, what do I do?”
She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down
She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.
You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.
“We fix this”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.
Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.
The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.
This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.
The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.
Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.
And yet, Neteyam is on edge.
He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.
After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.
Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.
Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.
“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”
Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.
The last obstacle is the hardest.
You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.
At every turn you evade him.
Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.
You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.
He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.
Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-
“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.
“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.
Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.
“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”
“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.
His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.
“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”
Jake pulls his son close.
His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.
“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”
Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.
After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.
Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.
Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.
You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-
“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”
Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.
Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.
He wishes he could let you be,
But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.
“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.
“I don’t think-”
“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”
You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.
You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.
“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.
The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.
It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.
Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.
He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.
Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.
All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.
He’s not sure that is the case anymore.
After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.
You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.
At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.
“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.
It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”
You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.
So he presses on.
“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”
Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.
“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”
He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.
“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”
You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”
“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.
“You already said that”
“Please, look at me”
“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”
He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.
It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.
“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet
you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.
Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.
He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.
He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.
You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.
“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”
A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.
“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”
His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.
But you need this. And he thinks he might too.
“Neteyam-”
“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”
Have mercy on him.
“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”
Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-
But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.
You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.
He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.
“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”
He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.
He needs.
“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.
When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.
His control, he realizes as he crowds you.
As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.
You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.
You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.
When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.
You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?
“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.
“Are you ok-”
You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.
Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.
Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.
You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.
The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.
The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.
Nothing is close enough.
With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.
“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”
“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”
Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-
You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.
Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-
“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.
Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.
“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.
You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-
There’s only one way to ensure that.
“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”
He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”
“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.
“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”
It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.
Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.
He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.
“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”
You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.
“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”
He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-
“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.
You can't take it. All of his hesitating.
You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.
You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.
He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.
Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.
You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.
Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.
“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.
“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”
“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.
“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.
“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .
“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.
“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”
Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.
A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.
It’s not just how you sound its how you look.
Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.
It’s how you smell.
Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.
Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.
“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.
Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.
There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.
Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,
But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.
Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.
You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.
Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.
“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”
He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.
This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.
There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.
This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.
He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.
This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.
You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.
It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.
It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.
The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.
Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.
You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.
“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.
“I should be asking you that”
“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”
“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”
You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”
It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.
“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”
“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”
You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.
When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.
Tasting yourself on his spit.
Fuck.
He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.
Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.
It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.
“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”
The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”
Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.
“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.
You are a vision.
Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.
It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.
You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-
“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.
Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.
It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.
The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.
After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.
Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.
“Wait-”
The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.
The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.
The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.
Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.
Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.
Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;
But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.
That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.
Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.
Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.
It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.
“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.
Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.
She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.
The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-
Huh.
It looks like she had nothing to worry about.
The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.
You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.
Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.
As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.
“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.
You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.
So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.
1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.
2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.
3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol
4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)
5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!
#neteyam smut#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam x reader#aged up neteyam#SMUT!#neteyam x metkayina!reader#neteyam x you#atwow neteyam
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Daemon x oc, where oc is alicent's 4th child and her favorite, but the oc also inherent Otto's scheming skills and so much better than him and overly can't stand rhaenrya and knows that rhaenrya likes daemon so she goes for daemon and daemon falls harder for the oc AKKKK and rhaenrya pov where she realizes that she is losing daemon to her much younger half-sister, please 🥺🫶
Half-Blood Rivalry || D. Targaryen x oc
GIF by @mad-witch-moon DIVIDERS by @straywords
a/n: tysm for this request!!! anons please continue to send me requests pls!!! I hope you guys are happy for Catarina to play oc as Rhaella :) also please imagine that this takes place in ep 2. when rhaella is born is around the time daemon is banished for taking rhae to the brothel. rhaenyra hasn’t married laenor or has children yet.
The youngest child of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen was sweet Rhaella. When Rhaenyra first held the girl when she was only a babe, she had a strange feeling about her half-sister. As years went by and both girls no doubt got older, Rhaenyra could not seem to shake off the uneasy feelings she felt towards her youngest sister.
“Happy Name Day, sweet child” Alicent goes on her tippy toes to kiss her youngest and—anyone with eyes could see— favourite child. “Thank you, mother,” Rhaella kissed her cheek. It was then her father’s turn. Rhaella and Viserys had always had a complicated relationship, the two never seemed to see eye to eye, quite similar with her other siblings.
Rhaella and her siblings knew that their father didn’t favour them as much as he does with Rhaenyra. Nonetheless, Viserys was still her father and he cared for him.
“Happy name day, sister” Rhaenyra bursts through the doors of the throne room with a drunken smile. Everyone in the room stared at the platinum white haired Princess in shock. Her appearance was dishevelled and she reeked of alcohol. It was only morning.
“Are you quite alright Rhaenyra?” Alicent raises an eyebrow as she looks the Targaryen up and down. Rhaella lets out a scoff. Typical Rhaenyra. “Quite so, I wouldn’t dare miss seeing my dear sister on this special day” She raises a cup towards the younger who rolls her tongue against her cheek in annoyance.
Rhaella looks to Viserys, a wide grin on his face making her scoff. Rhaenyra somehow always seems to pull Rhaella’s buttons without even realising. In her opinion, she was a stuck up Princess that was never grateful of what was given to her.
Rhaella could not stand her older half-sister, maybe it was because of the fact that their father always placed Rhaenyra on a pedestal and could never do anything wrong in his eyes. Placing a fake smile on her pretty face, Rhaella speaks up. “Thank you Rhaenyra, your presence here means so much to me” She pops a grape in her mouth.
Otto lowly chuckles yet shakes his head lightly at his granddaughter’s tone. There was no denying that out of his four grandchildren, Rhaella too was his favourite. The young Targaryen was very much like him in many ways, even better in some aspects you could say.
There was silence at the table for a bit as they all ate, when all of a sudden, the doors once again opened. This time, Ser Harrold walked in. “Your Grace, he’s back” Was all the kingsguard said. Rhaella and her siblings stop chewing their food and look to their father.
Viserys wore a shocked face before standing up quickly and walking away. Rhaella looks to her mother in confusion as she gives her a sad look and rubs her arm. “Father, where are you going?” The young Targaryen turns in her seat as she watches him walk away. What even stung the young girl was the fact that he didn’t respond.
“Daemon’s back” Rhaenyra says to herself with wide eyes. “Don’t be silly, uncle Daemon has not returned to court in how many years?” Aegon questions as Rhaella replies, “Since I was a babe” She shrugs. “But who else would Ser Harrold have referred to? Did you see father’s face,” She humorously scoffs, “That was Daemon alright” Rhaenyra shrugs.
“Enough talk about your uncle. It is Rhaella’s name day and I want you all behaved for her birthday celebrations today” Alicent sternly speaks before continuing to eat. The Targaryen siblings all give each other one final look before going back to their meal.
-
It was the night of Rhaella's name day where a huge feast was held. Alicent demanded the celebration to be extravagant for her favourite child. You could have mistaken the event as the King's name day.
Rhaella sat beside her mother and her siblings beside her, Rhaenyra on Viserys' side. When her father stood up to announce a speech, he was interrupted by a figure walking into the throne room.
It was no one other than Daemon. Young Rhaella had not seen him all day, him showing up there was her first time seeing him really as she could not recall him when she was a born.
Of course, the Targaryen often heard stories about her uncle. He held a bad reputation and yet everytime anyone would speak of him, Rhaella always found herself wanting to hear more about her uncle.
He sauntered in with a smirk on his face. "Brother, I thought you weren't going to come" Viserys puts a smile on his face as Daemon stands in front of the table, his hands clasped together. Rhaella could have sworn she saw a glint of mischievous in his eyes.
She looks up towards her father, than to her half-sister. Rhaenyra had a look on her face that Rhaella couldn't quite fathom out. "And miss my dear nieces' birthday celebration? How could I do that to Rhaenrya" Alicent gasps in disbelief and Aemond chuckles under his breath, a kick under the table from Otto shut him up.
"I think your mistaken dear uncle, it is not Rhaenyra you should be wishing a happy birthday, but me," Rhaella irked, crossing her arms. Daemon's eyes move to her. She watched him study her before a grin makes it to his lips. "Apologies...." He trails off, "Rhaella." "My brother failed to mention which niece of mine was celebrating. After all, I have little memory of his children before I left."
Rhaella nods her head politely, he was offered a seat at the end of the table near Rhaenyra. She couldn't help but notice her half-sisters' wanting eyes to Daemon. The young Targaryen knew of what had happened when she was born. In terms of Daemon and Rhaenyra.
But she did not expect her to still long for her uncle, after all, Daemon was gone for nearly 20 years. The whole time as they all feasted, Rhaella felt eyes burning into her and everytime she looked, Daemon shamelessly stares with a smirk on his face.
"I think I would like to dance," Rhaella says before standing up and making her way to her sworn knight, Ser Harwin. "A dance Ser Harwin?" The princess looks up at him with a smile. "It is my pleasure, princess" He smiles back as they start to dance, not knowing a certain Targaryen's eyes were fixated on the two the entire time.
"Your daughter is quite pleasing to look at, Alicent" Daemon chuckles to himself, his eyes still not leaving Rhaella. Alicent nearly choked on her drink as she glares at him. "My sister is nearly half my age uncle!" Rhaenyra laughs.
"Mhm, a shame indeed" He mutters as he taps his fingers on the table. Rhaenyra stares at her uncle in disbelief. The princess opens her mouth but shuts it again when Daemon stands up and makes his way through the crowd to where Rhaella and Ser Harwin were dancing.
"Might I have this dance, princess?" Daemon whispers against her ears as she breathed heavily from dancing. Rhaella gives a small nod to Harwin as he backs off and now dances with Daemon. "You know, you've grown quite alot," He starts off. "Thank you for pointing the obvious uncle," She rolls her eyes playfully, "Into such a, beautiful woman" Daemon finishes.
Rhaella smiles, "Thank you, I assume-" She was cut off by Rhaenyra who taps her shoulder, "Can I steal our dear uncle, sister?" She questions as she doesn't even bother looking at Rhaella, only Dameon.
The young Targaryen looks between the two before nodding her head. She walks away not before locking eyes with her uncle before his gaze floats back to Rhaenyra. "Did you just get told to bugger off, sister?" Aegon laughs as Rhaella approaches the table and smacks his head. "Ow!" He groans, rubbing his head. Alicent shoots a look to the eldest.
"I believe our dear Rhaenyra is still infatuated with Daemon" Rhaella tilts her head. "Not surprised, the way she was eyeing him the whole time, I thought she'd eat uncle on the spot" Halaena says concerned as Rhaella and her brothers laughed loudly. Deep down, Rhaella couldn't push aside a strange feeling as she watched her sister and her uncle dancing and laughing together.
-
“Do you jest, sister?” Rhaella’s mouth hangs open at Rhaenyra’s idea that she had created in her head. “What? Daemon and I are made for each other. We have blood of the dragons coursing through us. Not to forget, he wanted me before he was banished by Father” She paces back and forth in her room.
The young Targaryen only blinked a few times before laughing. Rhaenyra glares at her younger sister. “S-sorry,” Rhaella wipes the tears that escaped from laughter, “Do you still think uncle longs for you? Forgive me for saying this Rhaenyra, but you are no longer a maiden.” Rhaella tilts her head.
“Daemon might have lusted over you at one point but yet again, he did take you to that brothel and just left you there. And now he’s back after what? twenty years and you still think he has his eyes on you?” Rhaella’s jabs stung the elder. Her words were like knives to her heart.
“And what do you suppose? That he’s got eyes for you now?” Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow at the younger. A small smirk forms on Rhaella’s lips, “Time will tell” “Don’t tell me you like Daemon, Rhaella. You just practically met him!” Rhaenyra’s voice loudens. To piss her even more, Rhaella simply shrugged with a playful smile.
“Daemon would make a dutiful Husband wouldn’t he? All that experience and….. well you know. Plus, mother has been pestering me about marriage. What better way to honour her wishes of me staying close to home then marrying our deal uncle?” Rhaenyra scoffs at her half-sister. “Daemon will never want you, you wouldn’t even dare to approach him with those silly intentions-“
Rhaella stands up and storms to her older, and still slightly taller, sister. “Watch me dear sister. Watch me marry Daemon in our old valyrian ways and bear his children. Watch me live a life you only ever got to dream of.” She calmy says yet still, venom laced her words.
Rhaenyra stood still in shock at her sister’s words before opening her mouth, “You are a horrid person.” She said through gritted teeth. Rhaella only wickedly smiles before turning around and walking off. As soon as the door slammed shut, Rhaenyra grabbed the closest object which was a vase and aimed it at the door, shards flying everywhere.
Rhaella stood outside the door with a proud smirk on her face. It was finally time to put her older sister into her own place. She walked through the hallways of her home before she bumped into something hard. “Watch where-“ Rhaella shuts her mouth as she’s met with his figure. “you’re going..” She trails as he smiles at her.
“Rhaenyra is still in her bedchambers” She mumbles massaging her head. Before she could move to the side to leave, he takes ahold of her forearm. “It is not your sister I wish to see but you, princess”
“What could you possibly want to see me for, uncle?” She spoke, her arms folded and her head slightly tilted. “Am I not allowed to spend some time with my niece? After all, I know nothing of you” He says, his eyes wandering nowhere near her face.
Rhaella smirked. She hummed before replying. “I’ve always wanted to her your stories come from you, and more possibly-“ She was cut off by him, “You’ve heard about me and my stories?” He questions.
Rhaella playfully rolls her eyes, “Don’t flatter yourself uncle, your stories are the only entertaining thing to listen to around here” She chuckles. Daemon laughs, “Might you like to accompany Caraxes and I for a ride?” He suggests with smug smile.
~
1 month later…
“Where’s Daemon and Rhaella?” Rhaenyra looks around the table noticing their absent once again at the breakfast table. “Didn’t you hear, sister? Daemon’s taking Rhaella to Dragonstone today for a few months” Halaena says with a sweet smile as Rhaenyra’s jaw hangs open.
“D-Daemon’s taking Rhaella away? To Dragonstone?” She stutters as she processes what was happening. Dragonstone was supposed to be for her and Daemons. Not Rhaellas’.
“Why hasn’t anyone thought to tell me this?” She bangs her hand on the table in frustration. “I didn’t think it would concern you Princess, The Prince and Princess simply want to get to know each other more” Alicent speaks up.
“Get to know each other more? I don’t see why they can’t do that here, why must they be at Dragonstone. Father! Did you approve of this?” She looks to Viserys in disbelief. “My child, these are Daemon’s wishes. And besides, it is finally time that Rhaella chooses a Husband”
“A husband.” The princess scoffs as everyone on the table watch her, anticipating what was going to happen next. “I wanted Daemon to be my husband at her age and what did you do?! You banished him! Why does my whore of a sister get to do what ever she pleases!” Rhaenyra stands up in her seat as does Alicent. They could have sworn they saw steam leave her ears.
“How dare you call your sister that!” Viserys too stands up and hits his hand on the table loudly. “Rhaella is of age and you were not. You were the heir at the time and choosing Daemon as King consort? The realm would have been up in flames by now! My daughter. Your sister! Needs a husband sooner than later. Daemon is content with his position. Those twenty years where ever he was did him some good. Rhaella needs someone like him to confide to”
Viserys sits back down with a sigh, Rhaenyra only stood there in disbelief, shock and hatred for her half sister. Without uttering another word, she excused herself from the table and left. “She’s lost her mind” Alicent shakes her head.
Rhaenyra stormed out of the castle and into the dragon pit. She immediately paused as she witnessed Rhaella and Daemon in each other’s arms as they pat Caraxes. Rhaenyra was never able to do that the blood wyrm, he just never seemed to accept her. But Rhaella on the other hand.
Before she was could storm closer to the two a voice stops her. “Depriving your own sister of happiness?” Otto tempts her, “Just look at how happy they look with each other. I’ve never seen Daemon smile so much, have you?”
“He smiled plenty with me before” She mutters. “Ah there it is, before.” Rhaenyra glares at Otto. “Before he liked you, now he wishes to runaway with my granddaughter and marry her.” “H-he’s not marrying her” She chuckles to herself.
“Oh but he is my dear, he even asked for the King and Queen’s blessing. Your sister, much more youthful, smarter-“ “What are you trying to do?” The princess says desperately, “Stay away from them. Your sister is perfect for him and deserves happiness. Don’t let that childish dream of yours get into the road of them being happy. He’s obviously moved on and so should you Princess” Otto sternly speaks as the two of them look to the couple.
“I lost him once. Now I just lost him again,” The Princess shed a tear as she watched her half-sister get everything she ever hoped and dreamed of.
#daemon targaryen#house of the dragon#house targaryen#fanfiction#matt smith#daemon targaryen x oc#otto hightower#rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower#aemond targaryen#aegon targaryen#bruna marquezine#catarina de lurton#house of the dragon fanfiction#daemon targaryen ff#prince daemon targaryen#prince daemon x reader#daemon au#daemon targaryen headcanon#daemon targaryen x female reader#daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen fanfic
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listen I don't even know what I'm talking about anymore but on this playthrough of DA2 I found myself once more entranced and heartbroken to see hawke reenact their relationship with their mother with the entire cursed city of kirkwall. you can never do enough for leandra, and you can never do enough for kirkwall. leandra is proud of you, and kirkwall uplifts its champion, but no matter how hard you try for them you can't fix everything there that's broken, no one could, and even the fact that anyone would feel the burning responsibility to take that task on is a huge warning sign on its own. leandra will easily allow you to sacrifice yourself on the altar of the family's continued well-being again and again, even when she'll beg you to spare the twins from the same thing. it's such a sad, painfully realistic thing because I truly don't think leandra meant to fuck up her kids, and yet she primed her oldest for an abusive toxic codependent relationship with an entire ongoing dumpster fire of a city state better than she ever could have if she had meant to.
I think what leandra actually, deep down wants from you is something you can never ever give her and that is cruel to ask of anyone, but especially your kid -- to bring her back to a time when she was happy. to reclaim when you were all happy, when nothing was broken that couldn't be fixed, before malcolm died, before you had to leave behind bethany or carver's broken body on the ground. to get her childhood back from where she left it and found it all gone and in ruins when she returned. 'this is all your fault'. this is the tragedy of parenthood sometimes I think, that capacity to define a life: she said that once, in a moment of profound pain, and she probably wouldn't have said it under other circumstances and she apologizes later, but now hawke has to live with that forever. leandra can't bear her own emotions without letting them spill over onto someone else so she won't have to hold the discomfort of them anymore, and hawke is left to shoulder that burden and responsibility again and again, handed the impossible task of making it all okay again, somehow -- of stopping anything bad from ever happening again in the Nr 1 Bad Things Constantly Happening capital of thedas.
and then at the same time there's the mirror of how varric's whole family wants orzammar back (and to him orzammar is just a ghost he's seen in their eyes -- there's something in his voice when he says 'That stupid plate was the whole city of Orzammar to him' that gets me every time, how much he understands that he doesn't understand and how lonely that makes him among them, and on top of it all he's frustrated and ashamed and sad that he just doesn't get it and can't meet them on it -- like it's a betrayal that he actually belongs up here, when varric wants so badly to be loyal), just as the hawkes want happiness back. (I don't think it's Lothering in itself that longing is for, it's for being together. Lothering was just the place they stayed the longest.) they're all in exile, even as they try to make a new home out of that exile.
(varric and hawke's real 🤝 quality across all personalities, affinities and choices is 'parentified child' lmao. so much of varric's character makes perfect sense once you know he grew up supporting a mother who was an emotionally volatile alcoholic, honestly. between varric, the hawkes, isabela, seb if you have him and merrill's whole Situation with marethari I feel like DA2 covertly is to mommy issues what ME2 is to daddy issues fjsdjfa)
basically I think I'm trying to pick apart exactly why the fact that leandra is clearly proud of hawke and tells them so several times doesn't feel like it helps at all, almost feels more like a cage even though it's clearly meant well? and what I'm getting is that it's because my sense of what hawke actually needs, in general but especially from a parent, isn't admiration or approval but to be loved and supported and understood. I don't believe leandra ever quite understands them, and it scares her because it makes her think she maybe never even understood malcolm. (that's the subtext of a lot of what leandra will say about him in legacy, at least. he's slipping away from her as the years pass after his death and she fears she never really had him in the first place, if he had secrets like these.) she consistently treats her oldest more like a partner or peer than as her child, which considering hawke is always described as being very similar to their father… I mean I totally see how that could be easy to slip into for her after he died especially, but it doesn't make it any less fucked up or unfair.
the real leandra in legacy is. she is SO absurdly self-centered, if you really pay attention. I don't want to keep dunking on her because I don't think she's like this on purpose, but it boggles my mind. if you do the quest in act 1 she gets so upset and overwhelmed that the kids just sort of sit there like :( at the end, which adds to the trend that through the game you constantly see hawke comforting leandra, and you pretty much never see leandra comforting hawke, beyond some light vaguely encouraging comments in passing. if you do legacy in act 2 while she's still alive hawke comes to her, tentatively asking if malcolm ever spoke to her about any of it -- clearly requesting some sort of emotional support or help to make sense of it. she then expresses her side of it, but never once does she say anything to the effect of 'hey that was a lot to go through, are you okay after all that?'.
instead she essentially hands them the responsibility of having a good life, to repay what malcolm did for all of them. and in theory that's not the worst takeaway I suppose, malcolm probably would want them all to be happy, but in the moment it only feels like more expectation heaped upon you somehow? especially since you don't really get to express anything about how it made you feel before she goes to the 'ah no use complaining' zone (after SHE got to express her grief at feeling like she's losing more and more of that old life, and hawke barely got to say anything fhsfalkjfs). in general she really doesn't do much like. parenting, does she haha. there is so much love there in that relationship, and yet so little comfort. Oh, those days. All of us, in that simple place. Well, that's neither here nor there, is it. This life, we have to make the best of it. And thanks to you, and him, I will. Oh well, mum, I'm uh. I'm glad you feel better after that, at least. Nice to be of service.
it's varric's ghost-leandra who actually acknowledges what a burden hawke has taken on, that shows an understanding of why they're doing it, acknowledges the loss they've been through and also reassures them in their sense of belonging that still can't be taken from them, despite it all -- The best of him is still with you. The best of all of us. It's what makes you try so hard. You'll always have that. We'll always be family. (you can't take 'loved' away, huh.) you get a bit more of a reconciliation/reconnection between hawke and their dad's memory by being reminded he got like this too, you know (implicitly you're not alone). varric through leandra is the one who tells them what they probably would have wanted and needed to hear from a parent right then -- It's going to be alright. that's what Hawke, The Champion means to everyone else, and for once they get to be the one to hear it. except only in a kind dream that never really happened. I. it. hmmmmmm. crushing. that is crushing. but also so incredibly tender from varric's side, and so moving to me that he's seen all this stuff and so desperately wants to give them that comfort. anyway DA2 is about love in some of the realest and thus messiest and most human ways I've ever seen and it makes my brain go wild it's my favorite game of all time goodnight
#I don't even know what I'm saying anymore folks please just. accept this. it makes no sense/compels me though etc.#dragon age meta#dragon age#dragon age 2#hawke#leandra amell#honestly someone should do an analysis of the mother figures of DA2 because oh BOY something is up here#elthina and all her talk of the chantry as a 'gentle mother' very much included#as I believe terry pratchett once wrote:#That's Nature for you in a nutshell. Always dealing off the bottom of the pack. No wonder they called her a mother.
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💖 Crazy for you 💖
After an embarrassing almost kiss under the mistletoe with your boss Eddie you're determined to move on.
You're the nanny to his adorable son and have been crazy about Eddie for months but now you know you needed to move on after the events at his Christmas party.
Except it isn't so easy and Eddies feelings aren't so platonic.
Authors note: This idea has been in my head for days and I just had to write it 💖
Older Eddie Munson x Reader. Reader is in her late 20's. Eddie is 41.
Warnings: Angst, Dad Eddie Munson, fluff. Jealous Eddie.
Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.
💖
Being in love with your boss wasn't exactly the best idea you had ever had.
It's just Eddie Munson was the most amazing man you had ever met and you had fallen for him over the last year you had been working with him.
Cole's mother wasn't in the picture. She and Eddie were a fling that resulted in a pregnancy.
She had left Cole with Eddie and Uncle Wayne when he was born, she wanted nothing to do with Eddie or the baby and so she left.
How anyone could leave these sweet boys you would never know.
When you were first landed the job as Cole's nanny Eddie was a little stand offish, it took him a little while to open up but once he did it was amazing. You got to know him really well and began to fall for him.
He was without a doubt the sexiest man you had ever met and you struggled to hide your feelings a lot of the time.
Coupled by the fact that Cole was the sweetest little boy and Uncle Wayne was an abosloute angel, you settled into the job quickly and being with Eddie and Cole felt like it was always meant to happen.
Tonight there was a party at Eddie's for Christmas and you were enjoying a few drinks, it wasn't often that you drank alcohol but you wanted to enjoy the night.
The only trouble was that the alcohol made you braver than normal. That wouldn't normally be a problem but tonight it was.
When you were left alone with Eddie, belly filling with butterflies as he stood close to you the feelings had for him began to get harder and harder to ignore.
Mistletoe hung from the ceiling and Eddie's eyes twinkled as he looked up at it.
"Ahh shit, it got us princess" he teases and you smile as he kisses your cheek.
It was stupid but you leaned up to kiss him and you knew it was a mistake as soon as his eyes widened and he moved away.
Mortified you stammer out and apology and his eyes pain.
"Shit, we can't. We can't do this" you nod and move away from him kicking yourself internally for thinking that he wanted to kiss you.
"I'm sorry Eddie. I should go" you suddenly feel very very sober and grab your jacket. Eddie gently tugs your arm.
"You don't have to leave. It's fine sweetheart, we can just forget it. It's okay" you shake your head.
"I really should go" you don't want to see the pity in his eyes. Know he doesn't feel that way about you.
Fuck you should have known.
❤���
Sleep comes slowly that night once you're home, everytime you wake up you remember trying to kiss Eddie and anxiety fills you.
You couldn't believe how badly you had messed up. Embarrassment floods through you, practically burning the memories from last night into your brain.
Fuck, why did you try to kiss him? he was so sweet how he let you down so gently and you're kicking yourself that you thought he felt the same, that you almost jeapordized the job you loved.
Nancy brings you aspirin and you down it quickly. She rubs your shoulder and you feel sick to your stomach as you tell her what happened.
"I haven't got drunk like that in ages but I thought I'd let loose for one night and have a few drinks and then Eddie was being all sweet and I fucked up, I tried to kiss him and I'm so stupid"
Nancy hugs you as tears run down your cheeks. The rejection feels awful too and every part of you aches.
"He let me down really gently but I'm just so mortified" Nancy soothes you.
"Well maybe it's a good thing you know how he feels. Now you can move on. Jonathan says Nick keeps asking about you, why don't you give him a chance you might really like him?"
Maybe that was exactly what you needed, you find yourself nodding and cuddle back into bed.
At least you could use your day off to get rid of this hangover and give some distance between you and Eddie. Hopefully when you went back to work you could forget this ever happened.
❤️
True to Nancy's word she did tell Jonathan to talk to Nick and that's how three days after the party you had a date.
It couldn't have come at a better time because while Eddie hadn't mentioned the kiss but there was a tension in the air between you. It made you feel even worse, you had totally screwed up.
Nick was cute and it was part of your plan to get over Eddie. It was time you stopped daydreaming about him liking you, he didn't and you had to accept that.
He went on dates with beautiful women and he had never once looked at you in any way other than a friend and his employee, you needed to stop deluding yourself.
Since you were finishing your shift before your date it was a little tight for time, however you squeezed in time to change into one of your best dresses and apply a little bit of make up.
Eddie was singing with Cole and it warmed your heart, the urge to just go and spend time with them and forget your date was overwhelming but you know you needed to do this.
With a spritz of perfume you walk out to where Eddie is and he blinks looking stunned, his response makes your heart quicken.
"You going out with friends tonight?" he asks as you grab your jacket.
"Oh um no, I have a date" you don't expect a reaction or anything so it's a suprise when he stiffens as Cole toddles up to you and beams.
"A date?" you nod.
"Yeah. It's been a while. I'm so nervous" you admit and he softens.
"Don't be... You look beautiful sweetheart" he murmurs.
The doorbell rings and you hurry to answer it feeling flustered at Eddie's eyes burning into you as you answered it.
Nick was standing outside and whistles when he sees you.
"Wow, you look good babe" his smile disappears as you feel Eddie right behind you. Chancing a glance at him you notice the way his big brown eyes are flashing and his jaw is tense as he looks Nick up and down.
"You're the date?" Eddie demands and Nick chuckles.
"Quick as a cat huh dude?" he smirks and Eddie's eyes narrow. It was a stupid comment and you're disappointed. It would be nice if Nick could make a good impression with Eddie.
"How did you meet?" Eddie's tone is low and there's a hint of something in it, venom like and you're confused at why he's pissed.
He could just feel protective you reason as Nick launches into the story of how you met through Jonathan and Nick had wanted to date you for ages.
Eddie is still tense as you grab your coat and he takes you to the side as Nick waits for you.
"The bedroom is set up for you for later. I do appreciate you coming back tonight. You know how Cole loves when you stay over. I'm really grateful sweetheart"
Nick sighs loudly and looks at his watch and you cringe as Eddie's eyes narrow.
"Call me if you need to leave early, if he's an asshole, anything happens you call me okay?" you nod and your heart melts when Cole toddles over to you and hugs your legs.
"Bye bye" he murmurs sadly and his puppy brown eyes and little pout nearly make you cancel the date all together.
"Hey sweetie. I'll see you first thing in the morning. We can watch your favourite cartons yeah?" Cole brightens and smiles happily until Nick walks over to you and him.
"Hey little guy" Cole narrows his eyes and turns away from Nick.
"Poo poo head" he points at Nick and you gape and nearly burst out laughing but control your face expression.
"Cole that's not nice" Eddie tells Cole who still doesn't look impressed. Sensing it's time to go you hug Cole one more time and head out with Nick.
Hopefully the actual date went better...
❤️
Yeah, the date was a disaster.
Nick had left you at the resteraunt and had stormed out in a huff when he kissed you. You had tried to like it, you really did but you felt nothing and when Nick tried to go further than a kiss.
His words of anger ring in your ears and the last few days catch up with you and you feel tears roll down your cheeks.
Why did you have to fall for someone so unattainable? Dejected you call a cab to take you back to Eddies.
It suprises you when you head inside that Eddie is waiting up for you. He's sitting on the couch, dressed in slacks and a tight white t shirt, his hair in a bun. He looks so effortlessly gorgeous and your heart aches with want.
"Hi, you didn't need to stay up" he shrugs and stands up as he accesses you.
"You've been crying?" Shit, you forgot how perceptive he was.
"Date didn't go like I hoped" Eddie's eyes flash with anger.
"Did that fucker upset you?" you shake your head and settle on the couch.
"No, I mean we kissed and I felt nothing and Nick wasn't happy about that. I really did try to like him but the spark wasn't there. He ranted at me and stormed off" he takes your hand and squeezes it.
"You should have called me. He sounds like a douchebag to me princess" it makes you smile a little bit.
"I guess I just wanted to meet a nice guy instead of being so into... You freeze and shake your head, cursing yourself for nearly saying how you felt about him.
"Into who?" you swallow and look away from his big brown eyes because you'll give in and tell him everything.
"It doesn't matter. It's stupid" he gently tilts your cheek so you look at him.
"Tell me"
"I want you but I know you don't feel the same and I messed up on Saturday but" You panic as the words spill out and he caresses your cheek which stops you mid sentence.
"You didn't mess up sweetheart. It took me be suprise when you tried to kiss me, I never thought you could feel that way about me, I panicked and I've been kicking myself ever since"
Oh...
Eddie kisses you passionately and you respond to the kiss pulling him closer to you.
"I'm sorry I pushed you away princess. I do want you, I've never felt this way about anyone ever. I don't want you to date that fucking douchebag, that boy has no idea how to treat an angel like you"
He presses a kiss to your forehead and you rest your head and you wrap your arms around him.
"I'm going to take you out tomorrow. Uncle Wayne won't mind babysitting, he's been wanting me to admit how I feel about you for a long time" his confession makes you giddy and you agree beaming.
"I'd love to"
"I'm going to spoil you rotten princess, you're my girl and I want you to be mine, always"
Always, you liked the sound of that.
💖
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#older eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#dad eddie munson#eddie munson angst
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kiss it better - j.m
pairing: dilf!joel miller x babysitter!reader
summary: turns out joel is trained in first aid, among other things.
warnings: SMUT (18+ Minors DNI) oral (f), fingering, masturbation (m), age gap, creampie but not technically p in v, cumplay i guess, squirting? cum eating/swapping(???), praise, an inkling of overstimulation, hair pulling, needy joel, some dirty talk / bad language, nicknames: dove, pretty girl, sweet girl, idk just some down right dirty shit with some feeling, mentions of injury (a scraped knee and elbow), age gap, slight hurt comfort, grumpy bucky, kinda sweet ending. very sorry if i missed anything!
word count: 2.4 k
a little note: hi! this shit is nasty soz xx i wrote this for bucky but changed it to pre-outbreak joel cause yeah, also not proofread cause i don’t like reading my own shit, and sarah is like 5 in this, also if u know me no you don’t, okay love ya x likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏾
"You, kitchen. I'll be down in 10."
You'd listened of course, planting yourself on the kitchen counter and awaiting his return, but those 7 simple words left you fidgeting for the entire 10 minutes he was gone.
Joel walks into the room without a word, puts the bright red first aid box on the counter next to you and pulls up a stool. You can't help but watch his fluid movements, admiring his grace and precision even in the smallest of movements. All of them are deliberate, calculated.
"This is gonna sting a bit." He rips open an alcohol wipe, sliding a hand behind your knee to keep you in place. "Deep breath for me."
"Joel, I can sort it myself- mother fucker!" You start to protest but he presses the wipe against your broken skin, the sting unexpected despite his prior warning.
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Joel smirks, wiping over your knee once more, his fingers digging into your flesh when you try to pull away from him. "Keep still."
"I told you I'd sort it." You mumble.
"Stop being so proud for 10 minutes. Let me help you."
"But..."
He sighs, finally looking up at you. You're not sure if it's the intensity of his stare, or the fact that he's hunched over you, touching you so gently, as though a scraped knee just might break you, but that sigh defeats you.
"Okay."
Silence falls over you again and you continue to watch him work, smiling when he fiddles with small bandage and adds a princess sticker for good measure.
"I'm sorry about earlier. Didn't mean for such a dramatic entrance but you know Sarah, she's..."
"Stubborn and bossy."
"I was going to say strong minded and competitive. Like her father." His brow quirks subtly, but you pretend not to notice it.
"So... stubborn and bossy." Joel smiles, still completely focused on bandaging your knee, "There you go, all patched up."
You nod, unsure of what to say all of a sudden. Joel fills the silence.
"I've missed you." Three simple words, that probably would've had little effect on you if they hadn't come from him.
"You saw me yesterday Joel."
"You know that's not what I mean dove." He glances up at you, just for a second, but a second is all he needs to know you understand. Of course you understand. You've spent the better part of a year trying not to miss him.
"Always so proud. It's okay to let people help you."
"My pride took quite the hit today thank you very much, your kid is way too good at tag." Joel chuckles, and your bruised pride heals a little, knowing that you had made him laugh. The way that his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches, the almost giggle. You want to commit it to memory. To keep them it your pocket safe and tight for when you needed it. Even as his soft eyes bore into your own, silently demanding an answer to his statement.
"Thank you, Doctor Miller. I'd better be going." It's cowardly, barely even a whisper, almost drowned out by the low hum of the fridge.
But you don't move though and nether does he. Joel smooths the bandage over your knee, his lingering thumb quickly replaced by his soft lips. Joel gazes up at you as he rose from his knees, his hands sliding up your legs with each fluid movement. His hands move on their own accord, across your thighs, skimming your hips and waist, moving up and up until he's cradling your jaw.
"I wanna keep you in just a little while longer for observations, doctors orders" You lean into his touch, hyper aware of how close the pair of you suddenly are.
"Hmm. Okay Doctor Miller, any other remedies... since you insist." You're breathless, the air in the room seeming none existent as you bend to his will.
"I can think of one."
He bunches your skirt up around your waist in one swift motion, urging you to lay back against the cool marble countertop. His lips are full and warm against your skin, lingering on the inside of your knee, his fingers holed in the side of your panties, dragging them ever so slowly down your thighs. Joel's every movement is slow and deliberate, as though he's trying to savour each and every part of the moment.
"Such a pretty cunt." A small burst of cool air against your exposed pussy pushes you closer to the edge of desperation. Joel's hair tickles your inner thighs, his soft shirt brushing the back of your knee
"Tell me you missed me." He's so close to where you need him, practically dangling himself on a string. "Tell me how much you missed me touching you like this."
Joel finally touches you, his thumb circling your hole, watching you clench around nothing desperately spread out on his kitchen counter willing to take anything he'll give you.
"Missed you, Joel. So much." He hums, pride seeping out of his pores, dark eyes flickering when you say his name.
"Fuckin my hand to the thought of you was torture dove. Nothin compares to this perfect little thing." His lips purse and a small burst of cool air brushes over your clit. You grow more and more desperate the closer he gets, you're practically offering yourself up on a silver platter and he chooses now to take his sweet time?
Your fingers thread through his shaggy locks, prompting him to do something or you'll do it yourself. Joel' laugh is quick and breathless, his eyes slipping shut when you lightly scratch at his scalp.
He leans forward, tongue dragging from your entrance to your throbbing clit. Your fingers tighten in his hair and he groans pulling back to speak.
"Just as sweet as I remember." He takes another moment, then his head is between your thighs.
You're not sure if it's been hours or minutes but Joel's head is still buried between your thighs, lapping at your clit and weeping hole like a starved man. Every time you think he'll give you some sort of a reprise, he just gives you more. Fucking an extra finger into you each time he comes up for breath, or simply just toying with your clit, enjoying the way you respond so diligently to his every touch.
Your hands find the edge of the counter out of sheer desperation, too scared you'll pull at his hair too harshly in this marathon of touching, that is at least until Joel's movements stop abruptly, his head lifting from between your.
"Joel, are you okay?" His large hands wrap around your wrists, prying your hands off of the marble and back into his soft hair.
"Don't stop-" he presses a sweet kiss to your thigh "-feels so fuckin' good."
He wastes no time getting back between your thighs, bringing you back to that ledge he'd left you on. The soft point of his nose brushes against your clit, your hands grasping his hair with fervour. Joel's moan is low and deep, vibrating from his lips right to your open cunt. The knowledge that you're giving him just a fraction of what he's giving you makes your chest swell, and you bet that if you had to energy to lift your head and look down on him, his trousers would be uncomfortably tight and his hips Joeling up at nothing.
He curls his fingers, hooking them perfectly against where you need him, his hand moving at an unnatural pace. You try to stay quiet so not to wake the little girl asleep upstairs, but you're being torn apart from the inside out and Joel's muffled sounds do nothing but spur you on. Once his lips pucker against your clit and his fingers rest on that perfect spot, you're finished. Torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer, you simply just let it happen, let him coax your body through a perfect orgasm until you have no choice but to push the gluttonous man away.
"So fuckin' pretty. Look at ya, all mine." He's breathless, supporting your now upright frame between his muscular arm and chest. He presses his soft lips to yours, and it's a mess of nipping and sucking. His tongue brushes up against yours slowly and deeply, the taste of your own orgasm lingering on your lips.
"Just one more. Gimme one more yeah? So fucking good for me dove." You nod, something between a hoarse sigh and a whimper when he asks for verbal confirmation. He slides two long fingers back into you with ease, right back with that bruising pace, watching with dark eyes as you grind your clit on the ball of his palm.
"That's it, I've got you sweet girl. Give it to me." Joel's efficient when he works your body. He enjoys how you clench around his fingers when your orgasm builds, or how your swollen clit respond so well to his touch. He likes it when you push your fingers into his broad shoulders, anchoring yourself to him. He fucking loves it when you muffle the high pitched scream in his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin slightly as you release over his hand.
Dark grey spots linger on the cotton of his joggers from where you'd gushed all over him, but he doesn't care. Joel cradles your face, taking you in, his own little slice of heaven on earth. His.
Your nimble fingers tug the waistband of his joggers until they're just low enough to release him from their confines. His fingers brush over yours, moulding them against him, guiding you to palm his cock in a tight fist. Joel's concentrated gaze flickers between your glistening thighs, your pretty eyes, your half parted lips, your wet pussy spread out just for him. He's frantic, chasing pleasure from your white knuckled fists.
You slip your hand free, tracing over the stubble on his chin, fingers trailing around the back of his neck, until they're locked in his hair again. Your grip is rough when you tip his head back slightly, and he shudders against you, hips chasing his fist.
You relinquish in the small amount of power, the new feeling sending a rush down your spine. His lips rest against yours, his soft noises brushing against your skin.
"You gonna let me make a mess of this cunt, huh? Gonna let me come all on your pretty pussy."
"Joel please."
"Fuck. You're too good to me." He's whining for you. Fucking whining, and it's all because of you. Joel's hips stutter and thrust into his hand, the thick head of his cock bumping against your sensitive nub, extracting every last ounce of pleasure from your already spent body.
"Joel, come inside of me. Please Joel, you're always so good to me, let me be good for you." His hips slow as he takes in your words, your hands on him. He works himself over with his fist once more before he grips himself at his thick base pressing himself against your sensitive clit once again. He slides himself down, down, until the head of his dick is pressed against your waiting hole.
The familiar stretch of him pushing into you has you whimpering, still so sensitive. Joel's breath stutters and his hands grip your hips as he fucks his tip into you. His thrusts are quick and shallow as he gets himself off and you're muttering against his lips how good he feels, how pretty he looks, how much you love it when he takes what he needs. You scratch at his scalp, and grip his hair that little bit tighter and he's keening over, pressing his lips to yours. His eyes squeeze shut and he whines into your mouth as he pumps himself empty inside of you.
He works swiftly, removing himself from your warmth, sliding you to the edge of the counter and falling to his knees.
"Fuckin perfect." He mutters to himself, watching as his spend leaks out of you, fingers toying with the mess he made. He drags his soft wet tongue against you, once, twice, slipping into your used cunt until you're clawing him away beyond over-sensitive.
But then he's up, and in front of you and you're reading and waiting knowing what he's about to give you and you're willing to accept it. He kisses you, the mixture of your slick and his come on his tongue. You take it, the debauchery act pushing you so far past the point of desire. His fingers still move against you, still playing with your clenching cunt until you're seeing stars.
"Joel, too much."
"M'sorry dove." He says, pulling his fingers away from you and sucking them into his mouth.
He moves quickly, reaching for a cloth and some of his pyjama pants from the washing pile on the dining table. He's careful when he runs it over your thighs and in between your legs, holds you carefully when he helps you down from the counter and slips you into the sleep trousers that are far too big. He's soft and warm and careful and everything in between when he holds you against his chest.
"Joel..." He hums. "I don't want to miss you anymore."
You pull away to look up at him, terrified that you'd misread the situation, that your cloudy brain and lingering crush on the father next door has made you overstep the mark.
"Don't wanna miss you either dove." His lips brush yours.
He seems nervous, it's beyond sweet, but you'd never felt so light, so relieved. "Stay?"
"What about Sarah?"
"Please, she's been begging me to date you for months." Oh.
"And what do you want?" His soft thumbs stroke your lips whilst he holds your gaze, soft yet demanding.
"I wanna take you out to dinner. Want you next to me when I wake up in the mornings. I want you to sit on my face til your crying. Wanna give you everything you want, no matter how ridiculous, I just want you, if you'll let me." Oh. Big oh. You pull him close, resting a hand over his quick beating heart, worried it just might give out.
"You already have me."
He flashes a toothy grin, his blue eyes sparkling even in a dimly lit room. He kisses you slow and sweet, pouring every ounce of care an affection into your lips making it certain. You absolutely already have him too.
#joel tlou#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pre outbreak!joel#tlou#the last of us hbo#the last of us smut#dilf!joel#joel miller smut#tlou smut#smut
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Playing Doctor (Rhett Abbott x Reader)
Summary: Rhett will literally do anything to get out of going to the doctor, but a little roleplaying goes a long way
Warnings: SMUT, parenthood, Rhett trying to get out of going to the doctor's, cancer scare etc.
Tagging: @floydsmuse @bradleybeachbabe @callmemana @attapullman @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist
You groaned when you saw the number for the missed call on the answering machine for the phone in the kitchen.
"You ok hon?" Cecelia asked as she began prepping the raw green beans for dinner.
"That's the third time this week," you huffed. "Rhett was supposed to go for a doctor's appointment on Friday and it's Tuesday."
Cecelia chuckled a little. "Typical Rhett," she said. "Him and Royal are two of the same. They'll think of any excuse to not go, they both hate going."
"I know Cece, it's just annoying," you sighed, helping her snap off the ends of the green beans.
"Annoying as it is, they still need to be careful," Cecelia remarked. "Still haven't forgotten Roy's reaction when they found that cyst in my left tit last year"
"Ooooooh."
"Yep," Cecelia continued. "Nasty, nasty stuff. Mom had breast cancer and so didn't Aunt Anna, Aunt Betty and Aunt Mariah."
"Isn't that what Oma Heidi had too?" you asked.
"Oh Roy's mother had it bad," Cecelia answered. "Both his father and my father had it too but part of that was because his father was over in Vietnam and my father smoked for forty two plus years."
You and Cecelia chattered away when you heard Rhett trailing through the door, groaning as he kicked off his boots and hung his tan carhartt jacket up on the hook.
"Hey Ma," he said, greeting his mother cheerfully. "Something smells real good, what's for dinner?"
"The prime rib your father had sitting in the drop freezer," Cecelia answered. "By the way, I think ya'll might've missed something this afternoon."
"Huh?" Rhett said, his eyebrows scrunching together.
"I saw a message on the answering machine from the doctor's office," you said, giving him 'the look'.
"Oh um......yeah about that......ya see, a funny thing happened, Wes called and one of the cows had a breach birth and......"
"RHETT!!!!!"
"Hey ya'll try havin some creepy old dude feelin up your nuggets!" Rhett blurted out. "It's awkward as hell!!"
"Rhett need I remind ya'll that I have to have my tits felt up every six months?" Cecelia reminded him.
"No, but it's still awkward!"
"Oh you wanna talk about awkward?" you chuckled. "You wanna hear about my last gyno appointment?"
"NO!!"
"Well first she takes a speculum, which is like a freezing cold pair of salad tongs and widens the hole a little bit," you explained, delighting in watching him squirm. "And then she takes a little stick and scrapes my cervix......."
"LA LA LA LA!!!!! I CAN'T HEAR YA'LL!!!!" Rhett interrupted, covering his ears. "I can't hear ya'll!!!!"
"MY CERVIX DAMNIT!!!"
Rhett ran right out of the room and hurried upstairs to wash up for dinner, leaving you and your mother-in-law to laugh it off.
*****************************
Rhett fucking HATED being in the doctor's office.
He hated the cold, sterile feeling of the room, the smell of rubbing alcohol, but most of all, that you had managed to lure him to the truck with a trail of mini KitKat bars and the fact that he had been gullible enough to take the bait. But here he was, sitting in Pete's exam room in nothing but his shorts and awaiting the awkwardness that was to ensue.
The door creaked open and in walked Pete, one of only a few doctors in the whole of Wabang who had known the Abbotts since Royal was knee high.
"Ah there's Wabang's favorite bull rider," Pete remarked. "How's it going Rhett?"
"Not alot of complaints Pete," Rhett said, scratching the back of his neck.
"Well that's good," Pete said, glancing at his clipboard. "Wow.....looks like the last time you had a physical was the turn of the century."
Rhett made a face and nodded.
"Well, I'm glad you came in when you did," Pete remarked as he began probing Rhett's neck and along his jaw with his fingers. "According to the medical records you had some pretty nasty injuries with a bull last year."
Rhett had remembered clearly the ornery son of a bitch that had landed him in the ER right around the time of Amy's second birthday and having to have concussion tests every two weeks. "Quit the bull riding about a month ago," he said, squirming a little at the feeling of Pete's fingers on his neck.
"Good on you," Pete chuckled. "Told my son the same thing. Deep breath for me."
Rhett took four deep breaths as Pete listened to his lungs and then his heart. Good God he hated the feeling of that thing moving all over his chest and under his left tit and especially along his belly.
"Anything hurt?" Pete asked as his fingertips began probing Rhett's abdomen.
Rhett shook his head.
Good grief his hands were gnarled and cold. He winced a little when Pete felt up around his bellybutton, not from pain but from the uncomfortable wave of awkwardness that washed over him.
"Alright, looks good," Pete remarked. "Mind rolling over on your side for me?"
Rhett rolled over so Pete didn't have to see his face scrunching up, more so when Rhett heard the snap of a rubber glove.
*****************************
You came up from the basement with a pile of freshly dried laundry in the basket. The house was relatively quiet seeing as Amy had gone down for a nap, but the sight of your husband laying on the couch with a grumpy pout on his face told you that something wasn't as it seemed.
"Alright, talk to me cowboy," you said, setting the laundry down near the coffee table. "What happened?"
"Don't wanna talk about it," he said flatly.
You smiled and rolled your eyes. "Come on," you purred, slithering all over Rhett, the same way Garfield usually did. "I know something's up."
"I just had my balls and my asshole diddled by a creepy old dude with gnarled hands," Rhett answered, barely moving.
You snorted and giggled a little.
"I mean it darlin I ain't goin again," Rhett insisted.
"Rhett."
"I mean it."
"Ok, you know what you need?" you said. "I think you need a little help and that entails a little roleplaying."
Rhett arched his eyebrows. "Roleplaying?" he asked.
You nodded. It was something you did with your fifth graders when they were practicing for the spring play and had done with them ever since you had first had them in first grade.
Rhett joined you upstairs in the bedroom as you dug around looking for some things that your friend, Tara, had been storing at the house. You found her extra scrubs and medical equipment while Rhett stripped himself down to his shorts and seated himself on the edge of the bed.
"Can I get your name and date of birth sir?" you asked him.
"Only if ya'll buy me dinner first," Rhett answered, wiggling his eyebrows.
You rolled your eyes. "Name and date of birth please sir," you told him.
"Mike Rotch, January twenty-nine, ninety three," Rhett answered with a shit eating grin.
"Mike R......NO!!!!!"
Rhett laughed, an annoyed groan escaping your throat as you began to probe his neck and jaw, feeling his lymphnodes for anything out of the ordinary. You could feel the low purr in his throat as he leaned in for a kiss which you couldn't help but return.
"Mind laying back for me?" you asked him.
Rhett lay on his back before you began to gently probe his belly with your fingertips. "Lower," he said. "Just a little lower........nah that's still too high......there you go....."
You rolled your eyes, still feeling lower and lower until you hit pubes. A naughty little thought had bloomed in your head as you took his flaccid dick in your hand.
"Oh woah wait....wait a sec what are you....??" he said before sucking in a breath.
"Oh I'm sorry, where does it hurt? Here?" you asked him cheekily.
Rhett groaned as you slowly gave him a few gentle tugs and rubbed the underside of his balls. "Fuck......feels so good darlin," he hissed.
You took his dick in your hand again, gently massaging and caressing his shaft and his tip with your thumb until he had hardened right in your grip. "You sure it hurts there?"
"Feels so fuckin good," he groaned again, thrusting his hips into your hand.
You leaned up and kissed him full on the lips, your tongue slipping over his bottom lip and into his mouth to sneak a taste of him. "Well hello nurse," Rhett purred.
You giggled as you helped him get the scrubs off. Rhett practically tore your panties off of you, shoving his cock deep inside your already wet pussy. You moaned feeling his lips and tongue on the curve of your neck, his hips ramming into yours with so much force that the bed shook and knocked against the wall. You felt him gutter into you just moments later, the both of you out of breath and thoroughly fucked enough to forget your troubles.
"Feel better?" you asked, your head resting on Rhett's chest.
"Loads better," Rhett purred.
"Think you'll go back once a year from now on?"
Rhett kissed your lips and rolled on top of you, pressing you a bit further into the mattress. "For you darlin? Anything."
And ever since then, you never had a problem getting Rhett to go back to the doctor's office.
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Wesker surviving RE5. Taking a good while to recover. When he final tracks Chris many years later he sees a young woman with Chris. Obviously not Chris' wife.
Chris got a daughter. And Wesker knows how to truely break him now.
Poor girl, she gets hit on by a super hot dude not knowing that he is her dads biggest enemy
listen... this would go fucking crazy... 18+
cw; afab!reader, creep!wesker, reader is 21-ish and wesker is... *gulps*... 61, dad!chris isn't the best dad, i'm projecting big time with this one guys sorry, takes place circa re8, reader is in college, no use of y/n, chris is the kind of alcoholic dad that you don't want your boyfriend to meet because you are, in fact, embarrassed of him, wesker drives a lincoln mkz zephyr.
you look like your dad but prettier. softer, sweeter features than your father's own. your eyes are paralyzingly innocent, and he can't help himself when he lays eyes on you. you're younger than albert by a concerning amount of years, but thanks to your dad's unintentional neglect during your childhood, you've got some issues.
your father never told you about wesker- or anything relating to his line of work. how foolish of chris to not take such precautions with his daughter. you never bothered to ask, either, as you felt some sort of resentment towards your dad in your teenage years. everything he did pissed you off, especially when he was trying to bond. so of course you decided to date someone just as old, if not older than your dad, just to piss him off in return.
that's when you stumbled across wesker. he was handsome for his age, though he looks much younger and you're not sure why. the sunglasses thing confused you, though he'd told you once when you had first started talking that he has light-sensitive eyes. you, being so trusting of this nice, older man who made you feel wanted, believed him and every little thing he ever told you. he'd make you feel so warm inside, and it didn't take long for you to fall for him.
he'd made a show of falling for you, too, to keep you under his thumb. you were the type to flee at the first sign of abandonment; he couldn't have that.
your dad was shocked when you told him you'd found a boyfriend. thanks to your strained relationship, you'd hardly talked to him after leaving for college, which he blamed himself for. it had only worsened between the two of you after your mother left.
and now, at dinner, your dad thinks it's the greatest idea in the world talk about your beloved.
"so," your father starts as he saws through thick-cut steak with a serrated knife, cutting you off a piece, "this boyfriend of yours, when am i meeting him?"
"you want to meet my boyfriend?" you cock an eyebrow at your father, though he doesn't meet your gaze. his own is fixed to the bit of steak he's setting on your plate beside some vegetables.
"well, yeah. must be pretty serious if you told me about him." chris finally looks at you, setting his silverware down. you swallow.
"i don't know, dad."
"what, are you embarrassed of me?"
"i didn't say that, don't put words in my mouth." you stuff a piece of sauteed cauliflower in your mouth as chris sighs inwardly. for the next ten minutes, there's no sound except silverware clinking against your plates and your father's jaw popping here and there.
neither of you can take much more of the awkward silence.
chris clears his throat and leans back in his chair, "listen, i just want to make sure you're dating a good guy, okay?"
"yeah, sure." the bitterness and slight annoyance in your voice is hard to hide. you don't bother.
"is that a crime? wanting to look out for my kid?" he crosses his arms over his chest, getting a little defensive.
"don't you think it's a little late to play dad of the year? i'm not a child, i don't need you to look out for me."
"i know you're not a child-"
"then just stop." you're standing up from your chair, "stop trying to be a bigger part of my life. stop acting like you care. stop."
"fine, you want to be an ungrateful brat?" your dad stands up too, "then get out. take your shit and leave, or shut the hell up."
you don't really have anywhere else to go, so you slink back into your chair and reluctantly finish your food. with all the money your dad gets from his job, he's paying your tuition.
your dad downs the whiskey in his glass and gathers his dishes, leaving you to sit in silence at the dinner table.
-
your father lets the boyfriend thing go until you bring it up to him again, this time on your own.
when you bring it up to albert, he's delighted.
"i'd be honored," he tells you as he leans down to kiss your cheek, he's confident about this, which puts you at ease because you know your father isn't going to take this very well.
-
you're dressed your best, as is albert, who's got his hand on your lower back protectively. he can sense your nerves- uroboros didn't completely burn out of his system- as if they were his own, and he kisses your head as you unlock the front door. based on the black jeep in the driveway, beside albert's zephyr, your father is home. you open the door, and in a flash, you're pushed out of the way.
you didn't expect your father to have a loaded gun aimed at your boyfriend so quickly, if at all. a deep laugh sounds from albert.
"oh, chris..."
#bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡#albert wesker#bunny's replies 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ#albert wesker x reader#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#dad!chris redfield#chris redfield is your dad yay#tw emotional abuse#tw childhood neglect#albert wesker i love youuuu
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hard to get — kai parker x reader
☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, clichés — drama
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
synopsis: you were the girl next door, he was the devil's advocate. you liked your russian literature, he liked his women—all of them, in fact.
✧.*
the parties took place on the front lawn of 4347, mystic falls, every sunday afternoon. despite the supernatural secrets lurked around every corner, it never got in the way of the little girls of your quiet neighborhood. lizzie saltzman wpuld bring the tea set, which was appropriate, since she was the hostess. hope mikaelson provided formal attire from her deceased mother's closet. and josie saltzman invited the additional guests—stuffed animals for each of the girls—some of whom hadn't been to a party in years. of course, it never occurred to the three young girls, that while they were busy playing out their fantasy, one of the older girls in the neighborhood was engaging in a fantasy of her own.
your were the walking cliché embodiment of the good girl next door – quick-witted, kind-hearted, and always ready with a sharp retort. your life had a predictable rhythm until the day you crossed paths with a neanderthal. up until that point, you had a thing going on. you were there, every morning, a book in one hand with a coffee cup in the other, basking in what the day had in store for you on your front porch.
kai, who was an enigmatic playboy with a smirk that could melt hearts and a reputation for leaving a trail of broken promises, set his sights on you the moment he saw you with bonnie bennett. he sauntered over, confidence radiating from every step, and leaned against your picket fence. “hey there, gorgeous,” he purred, blue eyes dancing with mischief. “mind if i join your afternoon?”
you barely glanced up from your book, arching an eyebrow. “is this the part where i'm supposed to swoon and hand you my heart?” your tone dripped with sarcasm as you turned the page, ignoring his presence.
kai chuckled, undeterred. “i like a challenge,” he replied, flashing his signature grin. “so, what's a smart and stunning girl like you doing with a book like that?”
“reading it and wondering how many times i've heard that line,” you shot back, your lips quirking into an amused smile.
undaunted, kai persisted. day after day, he found new ways to engage with you in conversation, each attempt met with a witty retort. it became a dance of words and glances, a tantalizing game you played on the quiet streets of mystic falls.
“i have a feeling you're just waiting for me to sweep you off your feet,” kai teased one afternoon, leaning on the hood of his car as you walked by.
you chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “and i have a feeling you're mistaking me for someone who would willingly fall for that.”
as the weeks went by, kai's relentless pursuit of you showed no sign of slowing. he became a fixture in your life, a presence that simultaneously annoyed and intrigued you. you debated, exchanged barbs, and even shared moments of genuine laughter, all while kai's intentions remained clear.
“when are you gonna stop playing hard to get, sunshine?”
“depends, when are you gonna stop being hard to want?”
but then something shifted. beneath the playful banter and sarcastic jabs, a connection began to form. in between your arguments, you would noticed the way kai's eyes softened when he thought you weren't looking, how he listened intently when you spoke about your passions, and the times when his laughter seemed unguarded and genuine.
one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself seated on your porch swing, just like every other night, lost in thought. kai appeared beside you, surprisingly subdued. “you know, i've never met anyone quite like you,” he admitted, his voice carrying a note of sincerity.
you turned to him, your gaze steady. “is that your way of saying i'm a challenge you can't resist?”
kai's lips curled into a half-smile. “maybe it's my way of saying i'm not sure i want to resist.”
your heart skipped a beat, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could find the words, kai leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both unexpected and electrifying. in that moment, time seemed to stand still as your connection deepened.
pulling away, kai looked at you with a mixture of uncertainty and hope. “i've wanted to do that for a while,” he confessed, his bravado replaced by vulnerability.
your couldn't help but smile, your walls slowly crumbling, but the hesitation never making a full departure. “of course, it's just a few steps away from sleeping with me, isn't it?” the smile on kai's face slowly faltered, even all the while he knew you were joking, your words couldn't help but sting.
your banter had evolved into something deeper, something that left you both breathless and eager for more. as you continued to explore your feelings, you soon discovered that beneath kai's playboy facade, was a man capable of genuine emotion, while kai found in you a kindred spirit who challenged him in ways he had never experienced before.
“you know,” he began, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he began to wander, as if he was nervous to tell you something. “i haven't slept with anybody since we kissed.” you scoffed, but you couldn't ignore the way his words made you feel. it was what he was known for, yet he was straying away from it just for you.
you raised an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “i should be checking for signs of the apocalypse. the world must be ending if kai parker, the master of fleeting romances, is suddenly turning into a monk.”
he let out a soft laugh, the sound surprisingly genuine. “okay, maybe monk is a bit extreme, but let’s just say i’ve found myself more intrigued by a certain someone’s company than just a quick roll in the hay.”
you feigned surprise, placing a hand on your chest dramatically. “kai parker? interested in more than just a casual fling? this must be a parallel universe or something.”
he shot you a playful glare. “hey, i'm not saying i'm proposing here. just—noticing that maybe there’s more to life than moving from one hookup to another.”
you tilted your head, giving him a thoughtful look. “so, what? you’re saying you’re looking for something real?”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i didn’t say that exactly. i'm just saying that being around you— it’s different. and yeah, maybe i'm curious to see where different could lead.”
a mix of emotions swirled within you. you had spent so long building up your defenses against his advances, and now he was dropping his playboy facade? the irony wasn’t lost on you.
“different,” you echoed, your voice softer than before. “you do realize that ‘different’ for you is still probably light years away from what most people consider normal, right?”
kai smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “who needs normal when you’ve got interesting?”
you couldn’t help but chuckle, his words catching you off guard. “interesting, huh? is that your way of saying i’m a puzzle you’re trying to solve?”
he leaned in, his tone teasing. “nah, puzzles are too much work. more like a mystery i want to unravel, one piece at a time.”
you rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth tugged into a smile. “you are ridiculous, kai parker.”
he chuckled softly, the smile lingering on his lips as he looked at you. “and you like it.”
before you could offer a sarcastic retort, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender. it was a kiss that held the weight of unspoken emotions, a silent promise of something more.
as he pulled away, he met your gaze with a newfound seriousness. “i just wanted you to know that I’m not playing games here.”
your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, seeing a sincerity that was both unexpected and strangely comforting. “and i just want you to know that i’m not the kind of girl who falls for pretty words and empty promises.”
his fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch gentle. “i wouldn’t want you to be.”
there was a moment of shared understanding between you, a silent agreement that while the journey might not be easy, it was one worth exploring. and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the two of you, you realized that maybe, just maybe, God had something beautiful in store for you.
but just as your relationship was blossoming, a rumor swept through mystic falls, threatening to tear them apart. it was said that kai had been with another girl, a betrayal that shattered your trust and left you heartbroken.
unbeknownst to you, the rumor was nothing but a cruel lie. kai had remained steadfastly devoted, his feelings for you growing stronger by the day. he had never been with anyone else, consumed by thoughts of you as he gave himself a few days off, attempting to surprise you with days' worth of planning dinner reservations.
as days turned into nights, you found yourself growing more perplexed by kai's absence. the rumor that he had slept with someone else gnawed at you, fueling a mix of disappointment and betrayal. the possibility of a genuine connection seemed to crumble beneath the weight of the gossip, and your heart ached for what you thought had been lost.
seeking solace in a familiar friend, you found bonnie's comforting presence. she listened patiently as you poured out your heart, sharing your confusion and the sinking feeling that the connection you had felt with kai might have been a mere illusion.
“i just can't believe he'd do this,” you lamented, your voice tinged with sadness. “after all the time we spent together, the conversations, the moments.”
bonnie placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “i know how much you've been through already. it's okay to feel hurt. but remember, rumors aren't always true. maybe there's more to the story than you know.”
still, the pain lingered, and in an attempt to take your mind off things, bonnie suggested a night out at a club. she wanted you to let loose and forget your worries, even if just for a little while. she knew you were a gorgeous girl and, despite not treating sex like a playtoy, you had a few tricks up your sleeve. you knew just the way to curl your hair, you knew just the dress to put on to get everybody's attention—just the perfume to wear to turn heads, and just the makeup to put on to capture as many compliments as you knew how.
the club was alive with pulsating music and vibrant lights as you and bonnie danced your cares away. in the midst of the throbbing crowd, you found solace in the music's rhythm, allowing it to drown out the doubts and uncertainties that had been plaguing your mind. as the vibrant lights of the club danced around you, the beat of the music pulsed through your veins. her idea to let loose was working, and the worries that had been consuming your mind were beginning to fade. you swayed to the rhythm, feeling the music's energy wrap around you like a warm embrace.
bonnie leaned in close, shouting over the music. “you look stunning tonight!”
you laughed, the sound lost in the cacophony of the club. it was liberating to let your guard down and simply enjoy the moment. as you and bonnie chatted, the conversation turned unexpectedly towards your feelings for kai. it was a subject you hadn't discussed openly with anyone before, but the club's pulsating atmosphere seemed to encourage honesty.
“okay, fine,” you admitted, a blush rising to your cheeks. “maybe i've started to feel differently about him. but with all these rumors going around, i don't even know what to think anymore.”
her eyes glinted mischievously. “well, if you ask me, rumors are just noise. i told you once and i'll tell you again—you should follow your heart and see where it leads.”
before you could respond, a deep voice interjected, sending a shiver down your spine. “wise words, indeed.”
you turned to see klaus mikaelson, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. his presence was magnetic, his charm a force to be reckoned with. the combination of the club's energy and his undeniable allure created a heady mix of emotions.
“klaus,” you greeted, trying to maintain your composure despite the butterflies that had taken up residence in your stomach. “didn't expect to see you here.”
he offered you a smoldering smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “life is full of surprises, my dear,” he smiled, and you couldn't help but follow his footstepw away from the dance floor. “can i buy you a drink?” normally, you wouldn't have accepted, but tonight was about letting loose. you nodded your head, earning a smile from him.
as hw engaged you in conversation, his words laced with innuendo and flirtatious undertones, you found yourself both flattered and slightly uncomfortable. his attention was like a spotlight on you, and though you were no stranger to attention, there was something different about the way klaus looked at you.
his words were magnetic, drawing you in with their subtle promises and unspoken desires. you laughed at his jokes, allowing yourself to be swept up in the whirlwind of the night. it was both exhilarating and overwhelming, a whirlwind encounter you hadn't anticipated.
amid the laughter and exchanged glances, you couldn't help but notice a shift in the atmosphere. people around you were suddenly casting curious glances towards the entrance, and your heart skipped a beat when you followed their gaze.
there he was, kai parker, standing at the entrance of the club. his piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, and a whirlwind of emotions crossed his face – surprise, disbelief, and something else you couldn't quite identify.
as if drawn by an invisible force, your gaze locked onto his. time seemed to slow as the space between you and him was filled with unspoken tension. it was as if the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in an electric bubble of awareness.
bonnie nudged you playfully, breaking the spell. “seems like someone's here to join the party.”
you tore your gaze away from kai, the intensity of the moment leaving your heart racing. your cheeks were flushed, a mix of emotions swirling within you. as you turned back to klaus, his expression held a knowing glint.
“ah, young love,” he mused, his tone suggestive.
you shot him a look, half-amused and half-embarrassed. “it's not like that.”
he chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “isn't it, now?”
but as klaus's attention remained on you, kai approached with determined steps, his eyes locked onto yours. the atmosphere around you shifted once again, this time with a palpable sense of tension and uncertainty.
his arrival had disrupted the easy dynamic you had shared with klaus, leaving you in a whirlwind of emotions you struggled to understand. the club's vibrant energy seemed to mirror the storm of feelings raging within you, and you knew that the moment kai reached you, everything was about to change. as he closed the distance between you, the anticipation was almost suffocating. jis eyes bore into yours, a mixture of emotions swirling within them – surprise, confusion, and something else that sent a shiver down your spine.
“hey,” he said, his voice softer than you had expected. it was as if the whirlwind of the club's atmosphere had transformed into a bubble that contained just the two of you.
“hey,” you replied, your own voice catching slightly. his presence was overwhelming, and you felt a mix of nerves and a strange fluttering in your chest.
kai's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he turned to bonnie, his tone casual. “mind if i borrow her for a minute?”
bonnie glanced between the two of you, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “of course not. i'll be right here.”
as you followed kai away from the club, the silence was heavy with unspoken tension. the music seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.
“i heard there was a rumor going around,” he began, his voice a mixture of curiosity and something you couldn't quite decipher.
you sighed, your gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. “yeah, about you and someone else.”
he let out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. "i knew these rumors would start eventually, but i didn't think they'd mess with your head like this."
you looked up, meeting his gaze. “kai, i thought—”
he reached out, gently lifting your chin with his finger. his touch was electric, and his eyes held a sincerity that took you by surprise. “you thought i was different. and i am, (y/n). i haven't been with anyone else since that night we kissed.”
your heart skipped a beat, his words resonating deeply within you. “how do i know you're telling the truth?”
kai's expression softened, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “you can trust me, (y/n). i know i've made mistakes in the past, but this... what we have, it's real.”
your breath caught in your throat as his words washed over you. there was vulnerability in his gaze, a side of kai you hadn't seen before. the emotions that had been swirling within you since you met him were suddenly overwhelming, and you felt a lump forming in your throat.
kai's thumb brushed against your lips, his gaze locked onto yours. “can i prove it to you?”
before you could respond, his lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and intense. it was a kiss that held all the unspoken emotions between you – the doubts, the longing, and the newfound realization that maybe, just maybe, you had both been wrong about each other.
as the kiss deepened, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you lost in the moment. the whispers of the club's music echoed in the background, a haunting melody to the story unfolding between you and kai.
and just when you thought nothing else could possibly matter, a new voice cut through the haze. “am i interrupting something?”
you pulled away from kai, turning to see klaus leaning casually against a nearby pillar, a smirk playing on his lips. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you that he had been watching, his presence a reminder that the supernatural world had a way of turning even the most intimate moments into a spectacle.
kai shot him a glare, his arm protectively wrapped around your waist. “actually, you are.”
klaus chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “my apologies, young lovers. i'll leave you to it.”
as klaus walked away, a mix of embarrassment and amusement flooded your cheeks. kai's fingers squeezed your waist, and you looked up at him, the tension from moments ago replaced by a newfound warmth.
“you know,” he said, his voice a playful whisper, “i think i'm okay with people knowing we're not just friends.”
you smiled, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. as you looked into his eyes, you realized that sometimes rumors were just that – empty words that held no power over the truth.
“me too,” you replied, your voice filled with a newfound confidence.
and as you leaned in for another kiss, the club's vibrant energy seemed to swell around you, a backdrop to the unexpected twist in your story. with kai by your side and the promise of a real connection between you, the night held endless possibilities, and you were ready to embrace every one of them.
#tvd#the vampire diaries#kai parker#kai parker x reader#kai x reader#kai parker angst#kai parker fluff#kai parker smut#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikealson x reader#tvd kai#tvd klaus
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Christmas Fics 2023 (Part 8):
Keep It Like a Secret by PacificRimbaud - M, one-shot - He regards her with interest, cool as the ice in his G&T. “What do you want?” On close inspection, he's a bit deadly. It's the combined power of self-regard, an open ear, and a cunningly tailored suit. Hermione wants— “An expiration date would be nice.” She suctions up the watery dregs and signals for more. “Let’s say I want . . . a year. Exactly one year of monogamy without the possibility of further commitment."
When Love is Found by Biirdiee_Rose - T, one-shot - “You’ve read Charles Dickens— yes?” “Yes, I read Great Expectations when I started exploring muggle literature.” “Well, he wrote a book called A Christmas Carol.” She bends down to grab a few gifts from beneath the Christmas tree. “Ah, so we’re from the book then—” “Sort of,” She interrupts, “Then they made a movie of it with these little puppets called The Muppets, and it was my favorite.” - Hermione and Draco go to a muggle Christmas party with the theme to dress up from a favorite Christmas movie. Hijinks ensue.
Mutual, I'm Sure by LadyUrsa - E, WIP - If Draco Malfoy could have one wish in his life, it would be to not be a Veela. Wait, no. It would be to not have Hermione Granger be his mate. Fuck, at this point he would settle for Hermione Granger just being aware of the painfully obvious fact that she was his mate. But only as long as it resulted in monogamous bliss. And getting a cat. ** Two meddlesome best friends, two idiots who are bad at feelings, and a snow-filled Christmas reunion in Vermont. The only thing this White Christmas is missing are some musical numbers.
Cookies, Spice and Other Mushy Non-Practical Stuff by Trombones - G, one-shot - A very short Christmas Dramione one shot. Featuring your favourite Harry Potter snow man, a haughty but caring Draco and a Hermione that can't help but be won over by his charms.
The Well-Traveled Sage by MarinaJune - M, one-shot - Bookseller Hermione Granger, some shop holiday decor, and Draco Malfoy in need of a last-minute holiday gift.
An Ode To Falling In Love by Ada_P_Rix - M, one-shot - He gave her a lopsided grin then, his hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at her. "I think you're drunk." He observed her after a few moments, his eyes glassy as she rolled hers up at him. "And I think you'll regret the hangover in the morning." Hermione gave him a look that had him raising his eyebrows at her. "Amongst other things." "Well you know what they say, Granger-" Malfoy stumbled slightly, causing her to cling to his arm and pull him further against the side of her body as they walked along to the apparition point. "The truth always comes out when you're shitfaced," another grin from him had her shaking her head; Hermione had never witnessed him being this intoxicated before. "All kinds of nasty little secrets end up spilling out with the alcohol-induced vomit."
Santa Baby by Biirdiee_Rose - E, one-shot - “Now, if I were to say yes to this whole…thing, what do I get out of it?” She asks hesitantly, hating the way he perked up immediately. “My, my, Granger— how Slytherin of you.” She narrows her eyes and he relents, surely very aware he did not have the upper hand in the situation. “You’ve been shot down for funding time and time again for that very generous Wolfsbane project–” Now it was her turn to perk up, spine straightening as she leans over the desk, hands clasping as her brain puts together what he’s offering her. “If you agree to this, agree to being my girlfriend until at least after Christmas, then I will fully fund your Wolfsbane project for the next two years.” - Draco Malfoy needs a favor, and Hermione Granger seems to be the only witch around to fit the bill. Attempting to get out of yet another marriage contract, Draco tells his mother he’s dating the one and only Hermione Granger. One little issue, they’re not actually dating. With a good old fashioned bribe of funding the Wolfsbane Project she’s been trying to start for years, Hermione reluctantly agrees. No need to worry dear readers, it’s not like they’d develop feelings for each other or anything… Right?
The Christmas Party by arielle_reads - M, one-shot - Robards hosts a Christmas party for the Ministry but his gift-giving plan goes awry when everything gets swapped. Firewhiskey shots are introduced and Draco worries someone else will get the present he chose for Hermione.
Magical Merry Mistletoe by greyditto - T, one-shot - What happens when pureblood tradition, a Yule party, and a Secret Santa gift exchange all take place in the same event? Naturally, Draco's nearest and dearest conspire to get him what he always wanted...
Icy Truce, Warm Hearts by Serpent_Sortia - E, one-shot - The war has been raging for years but things are starting to go the Order's way thanks to the information provided by a spy high amongst Voldemort's ranks. Hermione is called out to meet the mysterious informant on a snowy Christmas Eve so he can deliver important news... until their meeting spot is compromised.
Messing with Christmas and How to Fix it by Astrangefan - not rated, one-shot - Hermione has been homesick for a home she no longer has. She finds some old decorations at Grimmauld and brings them back to Hogwarts. Draco likes what she's done, but says it in a way only Draco Malfoy can say and everything goes wrong. Now he has to come up with a grand gesture to apologise.
The Holiday by LunaLunaria - E, one-shot - A remix of The Holiday (2006) featuring cinnamon roll with hidden depths Neville Longbottom, chaotic manic pixie Pansy Parkinson, hyper-productive, seduce-me-with-your-brain Hermione Granger, and literary bachelor with a side of snark and sentiment Draco Malfoy.
Wolfsbane and Mistletoe by yes_a_witch - E, WIP - Seven years after her 8th year at Hogwarts, Hermione is feeling lonely. Ron and Harry are both happy with their new families, and her work is meaningful yet taxing. Though she has branched out and made new friends since school, none provide that sense of community she’s been missing. When Malfoy invites her for Christmas with the Slytherins everything changes in ways she never expected.
‘Twas The Night For Traditions (Some Old, Some New) by megiswritingsomething - M, one-shot - Christmas Eve traditions were sacred for Hermione, Draco, and Scorpius - such a shame Draco is nowhere to be found as the night drawls to a close… OR The one where Hermione reads ‘‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ to Scorpius while reminiscing about their Yuletide traditions. Meanwhile Draco is MIA on urgent Christmas-related business.
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Since I'm in the Helluva Boss Mood, I'm going to talk about something that I hope doesn't get me crucified.
I.ABSOLUTELY. HATE. THE .STOLYTZ.
Although I only realized this year.
If we go for the bases, we go with the bases.
✨NEITHER OF THE TWO KNOWS THE BASICS OF A STABLE RELATIONSHIP✨
Stolas was put in an arranged marriage as a child, having an EXTREMELY absent father and living in a turbulent relationship (which became abusive at times, with quiet moments but well, I don't think it would last long) with Stella. We are not told that Stolas has tried to be unfaithful in the past, so Stolas has no REAL EXPERIENCE in HEALTHY relationships to enter into one.
Blitz is much worse in this regard. He had an alcoholic father who left him in the background ALL the time above his best friend, and having to take care of his mother. He accidentally causes an accident that ends up killing his mother, leaves his best friend disabled, his sister hates him, etc.
Blitz, unlike Stolas, did have more relationships before him, but we know that they all ended BAD, especially VEROSIKA (there are even hints that she wanted to help him with his bad situation but he pushed her away) and as such it only did more harm than good .
all this without counting episode 1/season 2
Stolas clung TOO much to the good memory he had of Blitz, but to him it didn't mean HALF of what it meant to Stolas (since he already had positive things in his life like his sister, his mother and Fizz) so what? What does an adult with zero knowledge of healthy affection and ZERO experience in real relationships do? HE MANIPULATES TO GET WHAT HE WANTS.
Which brings me to my second point.
✨THE IMBALANCE OF POWER✨
If we ignore the fact that Imps are considered the lowest race in hell (because like all forms of racism, it is STUPID reasoning) even so the biggest red flag is the huge imbalance of decision-making power that exists in the relationship.
Blitz only wanted Stolas' book, HE REALIZED and what did he do? HE MADE A SEXUAL "ARRANGEMENT"(ABUSE, BC THE SEX CAN'T NEVER EVER BE A COIN TO TREAT WITH)WITH BLITZ TO GIVE HIM HIS BOOK (which HE KNEW HE NEEDED) ALL IN ORDER TO GET CLOSE TO HIM.
This is a monumental ABUSE OF POWER by Stolas! because at the end of the day he is the one who decides whether he gets the book or not (he knows it is VITAL for his work, WHAT HE LIVES ON) AND he tries to excuse it with the fact that it is a "way to spend time with him" EXCUSE ME !?!?
First of all, how the hell was Blitz supposed to realize that Stolas "loved" him if in episode one they literally had to censor everything that Stolas wanted to do in bed with Blitz? (and it's like that until chapter 6-7 where he begins to act more affectionately)
THERE ARE A THOUSAND WAYS TO INVITE SOMEONE OUT AND YOU HAD TO CHOOSE THE MOST ASSHOLE AND TOXIC ONE OF ALL. Abuse of power, control, poor communication, THERE'S EVERYTHING HERE, I'M IN CHERNOBYL!
AND IT'S NOT EVEN THE WORST.
Just because! There are toxic relationships that are fine to show on screen, especially in this case, gay/lesbian couples are rarely put under a toxic air, so there was A LOT to take away.
but the WORST thing is how ROMANTICIZED IT IS and as if BY FORCE they want you to 1) feel sorry for Stolas/get angry with Blitz or 2) that you SHIP THEM...
WHAT
Look, I like both characters, their stories are interesting and I like their personalities. the episodes focusing on JUST ONE of them are very good, but that's the point.
✨THE QUALITY DECLINES EVERY TIME THEY ARE TOGETHER ✨
Stolas is much more likable when he's being the prince of hell who's going through a turbulent divorce, dealing with his teenage daughter who he adores, singing songs to said daughter, helping other Demon Lords (I'm looking at you Asmodeus), etc.
Blitz seems much happier being with Millie and Moxxie killing people, talking about Loona, doing his job, getting into trouble with humans and being a complete bloodthirsty.
BOTH SHINE BRIGHTER BEING SEPARATED, NOT TOGETHER.
If you ignore the whole romance thing, they are good characters, but they forcefully want to introduce this drama...
ahg....it's late, I have school tomorrow, don't kill me for my honest opinion. If I think of anything else I'll edit it.
love ya❤️❤️❤️❤️
#helluva boss#helluva blitzo#helluva boss stolas#helluva boss critical#helluva boss criticism#i bloody LOVE helluva boss but i see their flass really clearly now...#anti stolitz
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Bad Idea
A/N: As always, a warning. English is not my native language and I use an app to translate my stories into English.
Summary: Y/N hates her uncle Aegon and tries to avoid him. However, he has other plans with his niece and does everything to make her his. Aegon has only forgotten that Y/N is not the innocent little girl everyone believes her to be.
Aegon Targaryen x niece!reader
Words: 3.2k
Main Post / House of Dragon Masterlist
This is the second part to Mind Games
Aegon does not force woman to have sex in this world!!!!!!
18+ I am new to the whole smut writing so please be nice
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" Desire brought them together
love kept them together"
- Me
Before any more questions could be asked, Y/N jumped up. With that, everyone's attention fell back on her. "I forgot that I was going to fly out with my dragon today." Without waiting for anyone's answer, she was gone.
" Is everything okay with you?" Daemon eyed his daughter with a raised eyebrow. Looking up from her breakfast, Y/N blinked several times. " Yes. Why?" Before her mother, who had been watching her daughter the same way, could say anything, the door to the room opened. " Good morning family." Sang Aegon literally. Everyone paused in their actions and looked at Aegon in confusion.
" You know brother, this is breakfast, not dinner?" Aemond watched Aegon sit down next to their mother with a grin and put some food on his plate. " I know dear brother and?" Alicent looked at her son dumbfounded.
" You're usually too drunk to attend." Daemon interfered. Aegon, playfully hurt, put a hand on his chest, " You wound me uncle." The king gave a snort, which Aegon ignored. " In fact, I didn't take any alcohol yesterday, so I thought I would join the family breakfast." " What managed to keep you away from wine uncle?" Jace looked at him with interest. " I discovered something with more flavor." He grinned and glanced unnoticed over his cup at Y/N. She slumped a bit more in her seat, which did not go unnoticed by Aemond.
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It was getting dark, which meant she had been on her little island all day thinking. Aemond also stood up. "What doesn't change Y/N?" "Aemond I will be queen someday and I need someone at my side who can rule seven kingdoms with me. Aegon is not even able to get his own life under control." She took a deep breath." Means no matter what my feelings towards him are, I need to marry someone who can take responsibility soon and it won't be Aegon."
" For someone who didn't want anything from my brother, your teeth sure marked him up pretty good." Rolling her eyes, the young Targaryen continued to stare out over the sea. " I regret showing you my sanctuary." She grabbed a handful of sand and let it slip through her fingers. Aemond sat down beside her.
" What happened? Did Aegon-" Y/N interrupted him. " No. You know better than anyone, he wouldn't be alive." Nodding, he muttered, " If not from your own hand, then from your father's or mine or your mother's. I think the list would be long." Lost in thought, she nodded.
" I don't know why I let it happen Aemond really don't." Y/n was disappointed in herself. Aemond gave a soft thoughtful sound. " Maybe because you like him more than you want to admit?" The younger Targaryen closed her eyes. "Maybe." Aemond looked at her in surprise. " But that doesn't change anything." Y/N stood up and patted the sand off her pants.
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Aemond reached out and grabbed his niece's upper arm as she tried to turn away. He pulled her towards him and exhaled in annoyance. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you won't find anyone who adores you as much as my brother does. Likewise, you won't find anyone who has as much value for you as Aegon." " Not everyone is lucky enough to marry the person they love, like you!" She snapped out of it and literally stomped in the direction of her dragon. " You are right not everyone is that lucky and I know you helped make this possible for me." Confused, Y/N stopped and turned to Aemond. " How do you know that?" Aemond chuckled softly. " I know many things dear niece." He stopped in front of her. "I know that you talked to my father and made it clear to him that Heleana and I really loved each other and so the fate of us had turned. I have the wife I wanted and children with her. You have already given me my future place as your hand, haven't you? With this you allow me to be one of the most powerful men and a good role model for my children." Annoyed, she nodded. Of course Aemond knew that she wanted to make him the queen's hand.
" Then you know I only want the best for you Y/N. Take my advice as your future closest advisor and don't waste the love for my brother. The country needs not only a strengthened regent but also a happy one!" Y/N nodded thoughtfully. " Aemond no matter what I will do. Aegon doesn't want the title of king." " Good thing he is only Consort and not the person who has the say. Otherwise I would never have opened my mouth, but would have looked for you a husband."
Laughing, Y/N boxed Aemond against his shoulder. What this perceived only with a grin.
" Mother will kill me if she catches me now!" It was pitch dark by now. Aemond and Y/N were standing in front of the castle, thinking how to get in without falling into someone's hands.
" Let's take the passage around the back. No one knows that but us and it leads directly to our own respective rooms." Aemond pointed to the back of the castle where the entrance to the tunnel systems was.
In the middle of the many tunnels, Aemond and Y/N had separated because they had to go in different directions. With her hands out to the side, Y/N made her way along the walls. She paused, however, when her right hand accidentally pushed open a door that was slightly open. Y/N's heart quickened. Not knowing exactly whose room she was standing in front of, she was worried that she was about to face her father or mother and get the telling off of her life. But Y/N heard something else.
She felt her whole body tense up. " Why do I have to catch him every time he…." Aegon's voice interrupted her quiet outburst of anger and Y/N's eyes widened at the sight presented to her through the crack of the door.
" Stay down!" Aegon pushed the blonde haired girl's face into his mattress as he thrust into her from behind. The young woman tried to hold on everywhere, but Aegon didn't even really let her breathe or moan out loud.
The Targaryen closed his eyes as the images of his niece came back to him. Sprawled naked before him on her bed, her face twisted in pure pleasure, the feel of her skin under his fingers, and the taste of her. " Y/N!" He moaned freely. After all, the one below him was one of the whores he regularly had come to the castle and he paid her to help his imagination along.
" You can go then." Aegon's voice was cold. It brought the young Targaryen out of her thoughts. Y/N immediately turned around and literally ran into her room.
Startled, Y/N held her breath as she listened to her uncle repeat her name over and over as his movements quickened. The silver-haired girl wanted to turn away, to just leave, but she couldn't tear herself away from the sight of her uncle.
Even if she didn't want to, Y/N couldn't stop her thoughts. She imagined how she would be the woman under Aegon. Which brought back memories of his hands on her naked skin and his tongue exploring her body. With her teeth clenched tightly, her hand went into her pants of its own accord. Slowly her fingers began to circle on her bundle of nerves as Aegon's voice rang out again, moaning her name. This went on for several minutes until Y/N's legs began to shake as Aegon literally screamed her name out loud like a prayer and came inside the woman. Unknowingly, he helped his niece reach her climax at the same time. With a suppressed moan and a guilty conscience, Y/N had to stop herself from falling to the floor of the tunnel.
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Y/N had avoided Aegon like the plague. She had surrounded herself with her studies, resumed her combat training, and locked herself in her study. Where she even slept. Y/N couldn't stand the thought that Aegon was one room over, again screwing someone who wasn't her, but moaning her name in the process.
" You are avoiding me!" Aegon had moved to stand in front of his niece's desk and looked down at her seated form. " Before you complain again, I knocked on the door of your study. You just didn't listen."
At the sound of Aegon's voice, goosebumps formed on Y/N's skin that she neither wanted nor could keep down. She closed her eyes for a moment to get her breathing under control.
Opening her eyes and looking stubbornly at the parchment in front of her again, she tried to ignore his burning gaze. " No, I just don't have time for you." Aegon chuckled quietly. " What are you doing here Aegon?" Her uncle leaned down, propped both palms on the massive desk and tilted his head.
" To see if my favorite niece is still alive. You've been in here for days." The silver-haired Targaryen looked up to reply, but that was her downfall. When her eyes fell on his lips and the hungry expression in his eyes, her body tensed again.
With a quick movement, she stood up, turned away from him, and stood with her back to Aegon, at one of the many windows.
Her uncle followed hers and stood right behind her. Aegon placed one arm against the wall next to the window, the other on her hip. His head buried in her open hair, where he breathed in her smelling of roses. " How long are we going to do this stupid back and forth game?" The hand that was on Y/N's hip slowly moved up her back until it reached the hair at the nape of her neck. There Aegon brushed Y/N's hair out of the way, put his hand back on her hip and let his lips meet the now exposed skin. Y/N moaned out as Aegon applied more pressure to her hip, pressing his body closer to hers. Her hands went to the windowsill in front of her where she tried to dig in. She felt Aegon applying more pressure with his hips with each additional kiss on her skin. Y/N could feel his cock getting harder and harder.
" Aegon!" Y/N turned to him. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away from her a bit. With an annoyed sigh, he let go of her. But before Aegon could say anything his niece interrupted him. " I will not sleep with you Aegon!" " Why not, you want it too?!" " Because I'm not one of your sluts for one night! Even if you like to pretend that they are me." She didn't want to say the last, but Y/N couldn't stop it anymore. Aegon's head cocked to the side. " Where from?" " Does it matter?" " Y/N, first of all I want more from you than just one night and…" " What exactly do you want Aegon?!" Her uncle's hand tightened on the wall next to her. " You as my wife! Even though I keep finding that you drive me crazy!"
Surprised, she looked at him. " What?" " You heard me right. I want to marry you." "With me comes the throne you hate so much." Amused, Aegon expelled air from his lungs. " You sit on the throne as queen and I serve the queen as her devoted husband. My butt will never feel the throne, unless you want to ride me on it. I would have no objection to that then." Annoyed, Y/N looked at him.
Aegon looked deep into his niece's eyes, "Iksan aōhon se nyke va moriot emagon issare, ao sepār emagon naejot finally mazōregon nyke hae bona (I am yours and I always have been, you just have to finally accept me as that.)" There was a brief silence and Aegon feared Y/N would send him out. But she leaned towards him, his gaze fell on her lips and as his niece closed the last few inches between them, he kept his eyes open for a few more seconds to look at her closing eyelids and to be exactly sure. That if he closed his eyes, she would not simply disappear.
Y/N wrapped her arms around her uncle's neck and pulled him even closer. Aegon meanwhile placed both hands on her hips and squeezed gently. He would wait to see how far Y/N would go. What surprised Aegon even more then were the next words Y/N spoke.
"Jaelan ao uncle ( I want you uncle)!" Murmured Y/N without opening her eyes after they broke away from each other for air. She nipped at Aegon's lower lip, then opened her eyes after all to see his reaction, blinking innocently at him through her eyelashes.
Aegon looked down at his niece, searching for doubt and uncertainty in her gaze. But was confronted with his niece's almost burning lilac eyes. Tightening his grip on her hips, he pushed her backward against the wall and let his lips slam down on hers.
"Before we go any further…", Y/N squeezed harder with both hands. Aegon got wide-eyed and wanted to protest, which turned into a moan. " No more sluts. I'm the only woman in your bed or I'll make sure you won't be able to bed anyone anymore. Do you understand?!" Aegon just nodded and tried to move his hips faster as his hands buried themselves in Y/N dress. His head lowered to her chest as his moans grew louder. She took her hand away from his cock and pulled it out of his pants. The hand on his neck squeezed a little tighter. " I asked you a question Aegon!" Swallowing he looked at his niece again. Aegon wondered when he had lost control and Y/N had taken it over. But if he was to be honest with himself, he enjoyed it. " You are the only woman in my bed and in my life… My Queen."
Aegon lifted his niece by her thighs and carried her to her desk. Without thinking twice, he threw everything down and seated her on it. Immediately she spread her legs to let him between them.
" Tell me to stop, I'll do it and we'll wait until the wedding night…" Laughing, Y/N looked at him. One of her hands moved from his shoulders , right into his pants and grabbed his now hard cock. Slowly she started moving her hand up and down. Aegon almost choked on his own spit as he groaned in surprise.
" I thought you were always the innocent one of us all." His voice was no more than a whisper as he began to thrust his hips towards Y/N. Grinning, she shook her head. Her free hand went to Aegon's neck and squeezed a little. Immediately her uncle moaned loudly, which only increased Y/N's grin. For she knew right then that she had her uncle at her mercy.
Y/N's lips touched his again and her hands started to unbutton his top, which ended up with his pants in some corner of the room. Aegon grabbed Y/N by the waist and lifted her off the desk. Surprised, she cried out. " Aegon, what are you doing?" He turned her around and began untying the strings that held her dress in place.
Every inch of newly exposed bare skin, at her back he blessed with a loving kiss. Groaning, Y/N stretched her back and propped herself against her desk. When Aegon had worked his way through the many layers of Y/N's clothing and she stood naked before him, he turned her around by your shoulders. Again he let his gaze slide over her body. Aegon had to grin, because he just realized that this body would be his for the rest of his life. His to touch, his to admire.
Y/N looked closely at her uncle, placed her hand on his neck and pulled him to her again. Aegon bent gently down, placed his hands on his lover's thigh a repeated time and lifted her up. As he did so, they both moaned into the kiss. Aegon turned to face the couch and sat down with Y/N. Looking down at him from above, she grinned. " So you like it when the woman is in control?" Y/N put her hand around his neck again and squeezed. Aegon moaned as his hips moved up and hit Y/N's now wet pussy. Barely noticeable, she flinched and moaned out. " Only you my queen!"
Y/N lowered her lips to his. Ran her fingernails of her free hand over the skin on his chest, all the way down between the two's bodies. Aegon's grip on her hips grew stronger and she was sure in the morning his handprints could be seen. She grabbed her uncle's cock and held it tightly so she could lower herself onto him.
Aegon let go of her lips and moved to her neck to her breasts, where he took one nipple in his mouth and sucked on it while one hand massaged the other breast.
" Aegon!" Y/N had settled completely on top of him. He released her breasts and looked at her with lust in his eyes. " I like the way my name falls from your lips." Y/N rolled her eyes and began to slowly move up and down. Aegon's hands again found hold on her hips where he helped her find the right rhythm. His lips quickly found their place back on Y/N's breasts as he moaned her name over and over.
The silver-haired Targaryen picked up her pace, burying her hands in her uncle's hair as she did so. She pulled on them so that Aegon had to look at her again. Their lips met again.
" Who do you belong to?" Y/N's grip tightened in Aegon's hair and her gaze intensified. Aegon moaned out and noticed that his cock got even harder and started to twitch slightly. Which caused Y/N's walls to tighten around him. " Only to my queen! Only you!" Y/N sped up even more and Aegon tried everything not to come immediately.
The young Targaryen leaned forward to his ear. " My good boy!" Aegon groaned loudly and arched towards her. He knew he should be embarrassed, but he didn't want to hear anything but just that. So he nodded and pulled her to him for another kiss. His fingers placed Aegon against her bundle of nerves and massaged it.
" By the gods… Aegon right there!" He intensified the pressure and quickened his pace. " Aegon I…" He just nodded and noticed how they both climaxed together.
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Exhausted, Y/N let herself sink against Aegon's body. He immediately wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss on her forehead. His cock was still deep inside his niece, but neither of them wanted to move right now.
" What else did I want to tell you dear niece." She whimpered slightly. " What's next?" " It is still not proper to watch others, especially not through a crack in a secret door." Aegon immediately noticed how Y/N tensed. Which elicited another groan from him and her. Y/N rose slightly to look at Aegon. When she saw his self-satisfied grin, she knew she had to do something about it. Again she began to move her hips painfully slowly and came close to her uncle. " It's also not proper to moan another woman's name and try to copy her look!" Aegon was about to say something, but Y/N grabbed his neck with one hand and his hair with the other. " I think I still have to teach you that!"
A/N: what do you think of the story?
I'm about to do a series for AemondxreaderxAegon, if you want to be tagged feel free to write me. Otherwise I wanted to open my request, so if you want a story or just have ideas. I have an open ear
@tvrgvryen @dreamtogether2000
@afro-hispwriter @lili-flower03 @solacestyles
#aegon ii targaryen#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen smut#aegon targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon x oc#aemond hotd#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon aemond#house of the dragon#hotd smut#house of the dragon headcanons#house of the dragon x reader#daemon targeryan#rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower
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What if Helle found Beck after a night of drinking and didn’t know how to act when Beck is overly comfortable with seeing them? Sorry if ooc for Beck
i didnt know whether itd be ooc so i just started writing and let it take me wherever it wanted to lol i hope u enjoy!!!
masterlist
tw vampire whumper, intimate whumper, alcohol and drinking and being drunk, dubcon kissy on cheek
He deserved this. He had been living in terror for the past month, and all he wanted was a bit of fun. Spending time with his friends. Normalcy.
Beck downed his third shot way too quickly, eager to forget about the fact that he was a vampire chewtoy now, and it was likely only a matter of time before Helle decided to escalate. This could've been his last free night! So why not make it a stupidly drunk one?
"I've never seen you drink like that," Sofie said with equal parts awe and worry in her voice. "Is this still about that bite scare?"
"I just wanna have fun," he whined. "Can't I? I'm fine."
"I'd never dream of prohibiting that." She still looked nervous, making Beck groan.
"I haven't been out at night for weeks. I just wanna... relax. I just wanna feel normal for a second." He briefly thought about switching his and Noah's shot glasses while he was in the bathroom and drinking his share too, but he wasn't drunk enough yet to trade mouth germs. "Is that such a crime? I won't, like, drink myself into oblivion."
"You're right," she conceded. "I'm not your mother or anything. I'm sure you can look after yourself."
"Thank you. I'll be responsible."
He ended up being less than responsible, buying and consuming at least three more shots. There was no stopping the constant whirling and swirling of the bar anymore, and he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open — but the spinning got so much worse whenever he closed them.
He somehow managed to pay for everything before sliding off the bar stool and heading towards the exit, never considering that it was well past midnight and the crowd outside was thinning. Thoughts of vampires were drowned out by a sudden desire for some pizza, and he decided to try to get to a restaurant he'd been to exactly one time before and gotten lost on the way. He had even been sober, then.
"Oh, goddammit... It should be right here," he muttered, staring at the closed clothing store. "Would it even be open at this hour..?"
"Beck?"
The vampire's voice cut through the drunken haze like a dagger, and he spun around to face them with such momentum that he almost lost his balance entirely. "Helle!" His back hit the locked glass doors of the shop behind him, and he was grateful for the added support. "I'm– I'm looking for the pizza place. You wouldn't happen to know where that is, huh?"
Helle tilted their head at him in curiosity, and he really wished he could've waved a magic wand and sobered up instantly. They had already fed for the night. They were supposed to leave him alone for the rest of it. "Do you drink often?" they asked, completely disregarding his question.
He couldn't help it when he just... laughed. It was an involuntary reaction, a result of his anxiety and the absurdity of the situation. "I don't think that's any of your business!" He flinched back immediately after saying it, cursing himself internally. "Well, I mean, it's not like– y'know, I'm just saying..."
"It is definitely my business. Do you even know how bitter alcohol makes the blood?" They stalked closer, and Beck quickly tried to slip away and continue walking down the street.
"Nope! And you absolutely don't have to put yourself through that!" He almost cursed out loud this time when Helle caught up to him, casual as ever. "Really, I'm just gonna– you know what? I really don't want pizza anymore. I'm gonna– I'm gonna head home. It was great seeing you–"
He did a swift 180, swift enough to stumble and trip over his own feet again, for real this time. Helle was quicker, catching him by the arm before he even realised he was falling. "Humans baffle me sometimes," they murmured. "Your solution to being pursued by a dangerous predator is to make yourself even more vulnerable?"
"No, no, I drank all that alcohol so you'd hate the taste of my blood. I totally knew about the bitterness. This is like– this is advanced, I wouldn't expect you to understand." He pulled on his arm weakly, not even surprised when it did nothing to make Helle release him. "Sorry, I'm just saying anything at this point," he added with a nervous little laugh. "I always do that. I shouldn't be allowed to drink. Hey, how about– what if you let go of me, and then, then I went home, and we just forgot about this?"
"I wish I could." They pulled him even closer, their amused smile greatly undermining their semi-serious tone. "But you are just adorable when you cannot shut up. Not to mention how warm you are right now... flushed... I think you should drink more, actually."
Beck could feel his face getting even warmer at the closeness. A misguided, touch-starved part of him recognised Helle's words as almost flattery, and desperately wanted to just lean into it. The other, rational, sober part of him wanted to run — but it was difficult with his limbs not complying. "You d-don't actually think that," he stammered, still making futile attempts at pushing the vampire away. "I get so annoying."
They must've realised how much he wanted them to deny that, because their smile widened, red eyes gleaming with mischief. "I do think that," they purred. "I always think you are cutest when you tell the truth. When you let that blatant need for praise shine right through."
"I don't– I don't... huh?" He was properly flustered now, so much so that he forgot he was supposed to be struggling. "Stop mocking me," he said without any conviction, so quiet that it could've easily gotten lost in the noise of the street. He knew they heard it, though. A perk of talking to vampires.
God, what was he thinking?
"I would never dream of mocking you. Not when you look so pretty and desperate." His breath hitched when they leaned in, pulling him closer by his shirt to press a kiss to his cheek. "Unless you asked me to, of course. But I thought you were trying to get away," they whispered. "Why are you clinging now?"
Beck had no idea when his fingers had gotten tangled up in the fabric of Helle's sweater, and he pushed them away instantly, thoroughly embarrassed and confused. "I'm g-going home," he exclaimed, waiting for Helle to stop him, or say something that would've made him change his mind, or... something. But they didn't. They just stood there, smiling, letting Beck look like a complete idiot.
"Do you secretly live here?" they teased. "Or would you like to spend some more time with me?"
"Absolutely not. I'm– I'm going. Bye." He turned to leave, getting out of there as fast as he could. He rubbed his cheek absentmindedly with the sleeve of his hoodie the entire way to the bus station, trying to get rid of the feeling of soft lips against his skin.
He really, truly shouldn't have been allowed to drink.
~
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All I Ever Knew, Only You 15: The Pickle Theory
Chapter Fifteen.
I'm stuck on you,
I've got this feeling down deep in my soul that I just can't lose,
Guess I'm on my way,
I needed a friend,
And the way I feel now, I guess I'll be with you 'til the end,
Guess I'm on my way,
I'm mighty glad you stayed
Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.
Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.
Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)
Words: 6,354
Chapter Warnings: Fluff. Is this the beginning of the pining? Who knows... Not me... Mentions of a funeral/Barb's death/survivor's guilt. One scene in this was based on the actual scene of Steve singing 'Old Time Rock and Roll' by Bob Seger into the bat to Nancy. I also genuinely don't think I even wrote a curse word once in this chapter. Baffling, I know. Also possibly an absolute lie, too. I cba to re-read through and check.
Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.
Previous Chapter
Chapter Fifteen: The Pickle Theory.
News around Hawkins traveled fast, especially when said news was a released recording of the U.S. Department of Energy admitting involvement in the death and cover-up of Barbara Holland. That news, in fact, went nationwide.
'Exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant' had been the official cause of death on Barbara’s death certificate, and even now, as you stood at her graveside, eyes practically penetrating the expensive, white, and empty coffin, guilt still nipped at your ankles. It was a feeling you were sure would remain with you until you ended up in your own — albeit, nowhere near as fancy — coffin, the shadow of guilt lurking around every corner, always in your peripheral vision, never quite able to look it in the eyes.
The ghost of Barbara Holland would haunt the town of Hawkins forever, would haunt you forever.
Standing next to your mother, you watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground, the uncontrollable sobs from Mr and Mrs. Holland, who now knew that no amount of money, and no type of professional or investigative journalist would find their daughter alive. She was dead, lost to the Upside Down forever.
Maybe believing that she had simply passed out and suffocated was the kinder, lesser of evils.
Either way, you were unable to look them in the eyes as they pulled you into a tight hug, Mr. Holland patting you awkwardly on the back as your mother — showered and relatively sober — comforted Barb’s mother, reassuring her that she too had been through the loss of a daughter, and to take it day by day. That with time it will get easier. If they needed anything, then they had her number. All of the things you’re supposed to say to someone who is burying a loved one.
Horse shit, you thought, watching them interact.
You, hell, the entirety of Hawkins knew your mother was still lost in the storm of losing a child. Of having her husband walk out. Of being condemned with a child that she wholeheartedly blamed for the death of her firstborn.
It didn’t get easier, your mother just became more inebriated.
Mr and Mrs. Wheeler had already excused themselves, the latter placing a gentle hand on Nancy’s arm as she passed. She stood shoulder to shoulder with Jonathan, downcast expressions as they spoke quietly between themselves. Steve stood a foot or so away, brows pinched together as his eyes remained on the framed picture of Barbara.
Sending a quick apology to Mr and Mrs. Holland, you made your way toward where the smaller group stood, hands in your pockets to keep the cold December chill from your fingers.
“You’re gonna tear that if you hold it any tighter,” despite your quiet mumble, the boy still flinched, eyes darting away from the picture of the redhead to meet your own, one brow now raised, “the memorial card. I don’t know what it ever did to you, but…”
“Oh,” Steve swallowed as he loosened his grip, eyes peering down at the paper, “didn’t realize.”
“Hey, we’re uh… We’re gonna head out now. Will we see you later?” Nancy questioned, her small hand on your forearm, just as her own mother had done to her.
A small huff of laughter forced its way from your chest as you shook your head, “Yeah, I don’t think so. Not really my kind of scene.”
Nancy’s forced smile matched your own as he nodded, an awkward ‘bye’ as she and Jonathan made their way toward the latter’s Ford.
“You got plans tonight or something?” Steve questioned as he shoved his free hand in his pocket.
“Uh, no. Just Nancy trying to get me to join her do-gooders club.” When Steve’s head tipped slightly to the side, you sighed and explained, “The Snow Ball is tonight. They needed volunteers but I don’t really wanna spend my evening with a bunch of middle schoolers. Plus, I have plans with Hopper. Did she manage to rope you into it?”
“Understandable,” Steve nodded, “And no. We, uh… We haven’t really spoken much since, you know…”
Whilst you and Steve had managed to keep your friendship on track the past month, the same couldn’t be said for Steve and his ex. Although Nancy didn’t explicitly tell you any information regarding herself and Jonathan and the time they spent together with Murray, it was evident that something had happened between the two, and whatever it was had put a permanent pin in her on-again, off-again relationship with Steve and even though he’d been dealing with rumors circling around the school since Tina’s Halloween party, it was obvious that Steve's feelings were still a little hurt.
“-Plus, I already have plans.”
Cocking your brow at the boy, your face remained otherwise stoic, “You have a hot date or something, Harrington?”
The boy seemed to stutter, and suddenly he found the grass under his shoes much more intriguing than he did just a moment ago before finally shrugging and repeating himself, as if you didn’t hear him the first time, “I just, uh… I have plans. You need a ride home, or…”
“Uh, no. Thanks. I drove. I’m just waiting for my Mom to finish up so I can take her to work.”
“How’s she been?”
Steve knew it was a peculiar question, and one he’d never bothered to ask before, but there had always been rumors swirling around the town of Hawkins, and he’d seen — or rather, heard — only a small portion of your mother’s drunken behavior for himself.
Your brows pinched as you watched him for a moment, almost expecting a cutting jeer to fall from his mouth as they often did with most people around town. A backhanded compliment or worse… a pitiful stare.
“She’s fine,” you shrugged, pulling down the bottom of your dress. The same dress you’d worn to Will’s fake funeral when the Upside Down was nothing more than a hypothetical, half-assed drawing on a napkin.
Steve’s mouth opened and closed, his brow furrowing as he tried to decide how to respond, but it was obvious you weren’t willing to talk about it.
“Steven, right? You’re the Harrington’s boy?”
Steve’s head turned, and a forced but nonetheless polite smile spread across his lips, one that had been enforced into him since childhood, “Yes, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”
As he shook your mother’s hand, Steve tried to ignore the cold, yet somehow clammy skin that pressed against his, and the reason it shook despite her being wrapped in an oversized coat.
Your family had been a talking point of the town ever since your grandmother lost her mind and was sent to stay in Pennhurst in 1958 before eventually being let out only to end her own life a few years later. He’d heard his mother gossip about it with her book club, joking about taking bets on when your mother would finally lose it, and if that had contributed to your father’s leaving. Although he had empathy for your mother and was trying hard to become a better version of himself, something about the way your mother gripped your bicep once she'd released his hand made him bite the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t a protective grip, it was possessive.
“It was nice to meet you, Steven” your mother quickly turned her attention toward you, “but we should get going.”
You nodded, and sent Steve a tight-lipped smile as you began to escort your mother toward the car, “Enjoy your date, Steve.”
Although your mother was at work this evening, you remained silent as you tiptoed into her bedroom, as if she would pop out at any moment and catch you red-handed.
It wasn’t often that you entered your mother's room, typically only sneaking in to borrow a piece of clothing that she wouldn’t notice or to put the laundry away. But this was an emergency.
You’d visited El — who was now legally, kind of, adopted by Hopper — after she’d called you through the radio. She wanted to talk all things Snow Ball and for some reason, she assumed you’d have all the answers.
You’d told her what you knew, but couldn’t help feeling a little rejected when you mentioned that you hadn’t actually attended any of your middle school dances, and watched the way her face fell. Changing the subject, you’d asked her what she was wearing, and she mumbled that Hopper offered to take her shopping for a dress, and although you loved Hopper, you didn’t trust his fashion choices for a teenage girl.
So here you were, carefully searching through what was maybe the only pristine thing left in this house. A simple cardboard box that housed the memories of your sister, the only place they were allowed to stay. Every picture of your sister, any real proof that she was a living, breathing person and not just a figment of your imagination lay in this one box.
Taking a deep breath, you took a moment to calm yourself, your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest, ribs be damned. Unpeeling the barely sticky packing tape and gently folding back the flaps of the box, your nose wrinkled subconsciously as the musty smell of dust clouded your senses for a moment.
There, laying atop some folded clothes and items of your sisters, sat a framed photo. Your sister’s first school photo of middle school, and ultimately, her last.
Familiar eyes peered back at you, a smile so bright that it could’ve lit the world on fire if your sister had so wished it. She was like sunshine; bright and soft and warm, the saccharine to your acerbic. And when she died, she left your family with nothing but the frigid chill of your moonlight, never quite enough to defrost your mother's icy heart or to make your father stay.
You allowed your eyes to run over the picture once more before moving it to the side, pulling up the edges of the few fabric pieces that were folded neatly in the box until you found the familiar blue dress, tiny pink dots sewn onto the fabric and a matching belt loosely tied around the waist still as if it’s owner would eventually come back to claim it.
Replacing everything back the way it was — sans the dress — you pushed the box back into your mother’s closet before rushing back to your room, the door shutting with a slight slam.
Gently laying the dress over your bed, you grabbed a near-empty body mist from your desk, spraying the ‘Love’s Baby Soft’ that you'd received last Christmas over the blue dress, hoping it would cover any lingering smells that made it a little too obvious that it had been hidden away for years.
In fact, the last time you saw this dress was the evening of what would’ve been your very first Snow Ball, when your mother was trying to mangle your tiny body into it.
You were 12, and she was drunk as always, deciding that the only way you would go to the dance, was if you wore your dead sister’s dress. You screamed, and she shouted, fighting against her and the fabric that she had half pulled over your head, the thin, pink-rimmed collar almost choking you as you wrestled against her cruel hands.
Eventually, she gave up, her vision too blurred to follow you as you ran from the room, from the house… from her.
And since then, you’d had no interest in school dances.
Staring down at the fabric that linked to so many different and conflicting emotions, you chewed on your bottom lip for just a moment before moving toward your desk, hands fumbling as you moved items out of your way, eventually grabbing a blue hair clip.
Releasing a long sigh, you swallowed down any incertitude and packed the dress and the clip, into your backpack, slamming the front door behind you before grabbing your bike, and heading to Hopper’s cabin.
“I still don’t like it,” Hopper sighed, the same glare on his face that had been there since Eleven walked sauntered out of her bedroom, “You should’ve checked with me first.”
Rolling your eyes, you unbuckled your seatbelt and sent him a glare of your own, “It’s a tiny bit of make-up, Hop. You can barely even see it. But you like it, right El?”
The younger girl nodded, eyes darting across the middle school's parking lot as she tried to find a familiar face in the loitering kids that mingled about outside.
“Hey,” turning in the passenger’s seat of Hopper’s Chevrolet, you caught the girl’s attention, noting her bouncing leg, “You gonna sit out here all night, or head in, have fun, and dance the night away?”
“You want me to walk you in?” Hopper asked, his own seatbelt already unbuckled as he began to open the door, only stopping when your hand fell to his forearm.
“I’ll take her,” you told the man, lips forced into a tight smile as he watched you for a moment, only to sigh and nod.
Leaning out of his window, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth already, Hopper called out, “I’ll pick you up at 10, sharp.”
“Got your ticket?” You asked, stopping outside the door as El turned toward you, the crumpled paper gripped in her clammy palm, “Hey, you're gonna have a great time, alright?.”
You rubbed your hands on her shoulders reassuringly before patting down her dress. Your chest somehow felt lighter, and a little heavier at seeing it again.
“I don't know how to dance,” the girl blurted out, brown eyes full of fear as if she'd only just realized, “You said I would have fun dancing. But I don't know how to dance.”
Despite her sudden desperate outburst, you couldn't contain the laughter that escaped you, “Please, I don't think Mike Wheeler of all people is gonna be a ballroom genius either.”
When El's frown remained, the only change in her was the soft pink blush over her cheeks, you let out a deep sigh, bending slightly to look her in the eyes,
“Don't overthink this, okay? You don't have to impress anyone. You don't have to prove yourself. Dance, don't dance… It doesn't matter. Do whatever you wanna do.”
A sweet smile graced her features before El pulled you in close for a hug. Squeezing her back, you fluffed her hair one last time before sending her on her way, “C'mon, you don't wanna spend the whole night out here talking to me. Go, have fun.”
You watched as she pushed through the large doors, holding out her ticket for Mr. Clarke who was manning the welcome table, only turning once to send you a quick wave, but you could tell by the amazement on her face that she had never witnessed a night like this.
Folding your arms over your chest, you watched her for a moment longer until she was fully out of sight.
"Thought you didn’t wanna spend your evening with a bunch of kids?"
The familiar voice made you swivel around quickly, eyes wide in confusion, “I know most of your friends are like, middle schoolers now, but it's kinda lame to turn up to their end-of-year dance. Newsflash, Harrington: you won't win Winter King.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve leaned over the passenger seat a little more, his now removed seatbelt allowing him to almost pop his head out of the window, “Very funny. Who are you to talk, anyway? You literally have no other friends.”
Scoffing, you feigned a glare, “Thought you said you had a hot date tonight?”
“You assumed I had a hot date. I just said I had plans.”
“And your plans were…”
“I promised Henderson a ride.”
Nodding, you checked over your shoulder just to make sure Eleven had entered the building. Although you could no longer see Eleven, you could see the familiar smile of Nancy, standing not too far from the entrance doors pouring what you assumed were cups of punch. When you returned your attention to the boy still idling in his car, you realized Steve too was watching her, “You still giving him bad advice?”
“Hey, don’t fix what ain’t broke.” Steve smiled as his eyes returned to you, but it felt a little too forced.
“I’m not sure Laurie would feel that way. Or Becky, or Amy, or-”
“Yeah, okay. Got it, thanks.” Sending you an exasperated look, Steve let out a long sigh before leaning a little further over the passenger seat, “You uh… You got plans for the rest of the evening? I said I’d drop off some of the kids after but… I’m free ‘til 10 if you wanna go get something to eat, or… whatever?”
Your face remained stoic, bar one brow raising up, “You’re not gonna drive me to the middle of nowhere and murder me, are you Harrington?”
“God, you’re so dramatic. Just… Get it. Or don’t. Whatever.”
Despite your best efforts, a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, causing you to bite your bottom lip, “Let me go tell Hop. He’s waiting for me.”
“Yeah, okay, cool. I’ll uh, I’ll wait here, I guess…”
“Harrington?” Hopper questioned, the half-smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth as his stare turned toward Joyce.
“Yes, Hopper. Harrington. What about it?”
“And you’re just, what? Getting food? Going for a drive? I didn’t even realize you two were... friendly.”
Squeezing your eyes closed for a moment, you released a mumbled groan, “Yeah well, fighting two interdimensional demons from Hell kind of forces a bond, you know? Look, I wasn’t asking for your permission, Hop. I was just letting you know that I’ll pick my bike up tomorrow.”
Hopper’s frown deepened, his eyes seeming much darker against the night sky as you two stood in a silent standoff. Joyce’s elbow knocked into him, and the man offered out the cigarette to her, cringing slightly as she sent him a look that you couldn’t quite decode. They peered at each other a moment longer before Jim finally turned his attention back to you,
“I’ll uh, I’ll drop it at yours on my way back through. Just… Be careful, okay?”
“Thanks, will do. Night, Joyce.” You sent the woman a polite wave as you made your way back over toward the burgundy beamer, unaware of the mumbled conversation and prying eyes from the two adults behind you.
Steve almost jumped from his seat when you practically wrenched the handle from his door, gracelessly bundling yourself into the passenger seat and warming your hands on the heater as quickly as you could, his hands fumbling on the radio volume, knocking it up a little too high in his unnerved state.
Quickly lowering it back down, Steve sent you a silent glare as he started the engine, only to be met with a shit-eating grin.
Since Benny’s had closed down, The Hideaway remained one of the only places in town that served burgers. Enzo’s was way too upmarket for a greasy burger, and Steve wasn’t prepared to drive out of town just to eat, so instead he grabbed his now usual order from the Hideaway, your milkshakes, and a to-go bag with both of your burgers in — and a side portion of judgment and disgust when you ordered extra pickle in yours — and handed you the bag to rest on your legs as he started the car back up,
“We’re not just eating in the parking lot?”
“No food in the car,” Steve’s voice was monotonous, as if he’d heard, or said, the same sentence a thousand times before, “Henderson will smell it a mile away if we so much as open the bag. And then he’ll bitch about it and demand that I drive him to get his own. Which he’ll expect me to pay for.”
As Steve continued along Mulberry, you could barely keep the amused smirk from your face, “You always let a thirteen-year-old dictate your life?”
Scoffing, Steve took a sharp turn, your grip on the brown paper bag tightening just in case you lost your dinner before you were able to eat it.
“You’ve met the kid. No isn’t in his vocabulary.”
“Thirteen, Steve” you reiterated, “I’m sure even you have half a chance of winning against him in a fight.”
“Half?” He choked out, eyes darting from his windshield to you, and back again, “Please. I could kick that little twerp's ass if I wanted to.”
Scrunching your nose, you sent him an unsure glance, “I don’t know. The kid seems kinda… scrappy, you know? Like, his fighting tactics definitely include biting. Especially now he's got teeth.”
Steve hesitated for a minute, his lips pursed together as he considered your words, “I mean, yeah. I could totally see it.“
The rumble of Steve’s engine died down, turning off completely as he unbuckled his seatbelt and all but ripped the bag from your hands, exiting his car and making his way toward the trunk. Once seated, Steve pulled open the bag, waiting to hand you your own burger and shake as he watched you all but clamber onto the back of his car.
Unwrapping your burger and taking a bite, you finally took in your surroundings, a frown settling on your forehead, “Steve, did you bring me to Lover’s Lake?”
Almost choking on his too-big of a bite of burger, he scrambled for his milkshake, finally sending you a glare when he’d managed to dislodge the patty from his throat, “Oh my god. Not for that reason. Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s just quiet up here, you know? Pretty at night, too. I come out here sometimes to clear my head.”
“Just know that Hopper taught me three different ways to rupture a testicle-”
“Jesus, I’m not… That wasn’t my intention, alright? So please, for the love of god, leave my testicles alone,” Steve cringed, his legs instinctively shuffling closer together, “Plus my spot is Skull Rock. I kind of invented it, you know?”
Taking a sip of your milkshake, you sent him a dubious glance, “You invented a rock?”
“No, obviously not. But I, you know… It’s a popular make-out spot because I made it popular.”
“Wow, what a legacy.”
After rolling up the paper his burger had been wrapped in and throwing it back into the bag Steve cleared his throat as he looked up to the night sky. It was a relatively clear night, allowing the stars to shimmer brightly against the dark sky,
“You remember the 1979 Snowball?” When you remained silent, Steve continued, “Missy Goldstein drank way too much punch and threw up all over like, half the dance floor.”
A small chuckle escaped your chest, imagining the poor girl — hair in bunches and a nose that seemed to always be blocked — and the embarrassment she must’ve felt that night. You weren’t even there, but you’d heard the giggling about it even after the winter break.
“Oh my god, do you remember-”
“Steve, I’ve never been to a school dance, so no I don’t remember anything.”
The boy’s face scrunched slightly as if he was trying to wrack his brain for an image of you at any of the school dances, but you knew no matter how hard he’d try, the boy didn’t even know of your existence two years ago. As if he’d also come to this conclusion, Steve’s face returned to a more neutral expression,
“Not your kind of scene?”
You felt your shoulders tense slightly as you shrugged them, “I mean, I only really had two friends. Barb always went away to her grandparents over the holidays, and Jonathan wasn’t really the biggest fan of dances. At least, I guess, he wasn’t.”
Steve nodded, his face falling slightly at the mention of the boy and how quickly Jonathan was willing to change his habits for Nancy. Steve thought about how he’d originally signed up with Nancy back in mid-October to volunteer at the Snowball, and how he’d willingly offered to sacrifice his evening to hang up middle school kids' jackets and coats and listen to Madonna on repeat just to spend a little more time with the girl.
The quiet sounds that trickled out of the open front doors of Steve’s car caught his attention, the familiar lyrics of Madonna's ‘Holiday’ playing from his radio already half-way through by the time he'd pushed himself from the trunk of his car and made his way around to the front, turning the volume up.
As he made his way back, your eyes darted between his own and the outstretched hand awaiting yours. When you didn't move he rolled his eyes, “Get your ass off the car and dance with me.”
In stunned silence, you allowed Steve to lead you toward the front of the car, headlights dimmed but still on as you watched him move, imagining his lanky pre-teen limbs doing the same dance movements, albeit probably a little more awkwardly back then, “Oh my god, I… No. I'm not doing this-”
You could barely step back toward the car before he grabbed your wrist, pulling you a little closer to him as he waved your limp arm around in the air, “C'mon, don't be a party pooper. Dance with me! Holiday, celebrate!”
Despite the secondhand embarrassment that flooded your veins, you couldn't hold in the laugh that crawled up your throat, listening to him sing with a spirited fervor you'd never witnessed from the boy before.
Passionate enough, that after animatedly rolling your eyes, you finally gave in to his ridiculousness, your embarrassment still evident in your timid moves, but you were moving nonetheless.
As the song began to die out, you could barely keep your laughter in. Steve had spun you, shook you, and yanked at your arms until you were moving on your own accord.
By the time the next song began to play — Lionel Ritchie's ‘Stuck On You’ crooning through the open doors of Steve's car — you were both out of breath, your hand still held in his loose grip.
Feeling his thumb graze the back of your hand before his grip eventually tightened, he pulled you toward him almost bashfully, close enough that you could smell the familiar remnants of fabric softener.
Never in a million different lifetimes would you predict this to happen tonight.
“You okay?” His voice was soft, barely audible over the sound of Lionel as he sang about leaving on a midnight train, but somehow still made you jolt slightly, cringing when you felt his shoe underneath your own.
“Uh, yeah. Fine. I'm… I'm fine. Just not really used to… this kind of dancing, I guess.”
Your eyes screwed shut at the wobble in your voice. God, you were so embarrassed. Yet here he was — Steve Harrington with all of his charm — and suddenly you had no doubt as to why he'd won homecoming king, or how he’d won the attention of the girls of Hawkins High.
“It's my favorite kind,” the vulnerability was so evident in his voice that you were surprised he didn't shove you away and make a dash for his car, leaving you behind.
“Somehow, I can't imagine King Steve slow dancing at prom like this.”
You didn't even need to explain, because although his fingers gently gripped your waist and your hands rested over his shoulders, they were the only parts of you that were touching, “Gotta leave room for Jesus, right?”
Trying to cover up your laugh with a cough you shook your head, finally staring into his coffee-colored eyes, “Didn’t take you for the God-fearing type. You're a whole new man, Harrington. Who'd have thought?”
Pulling back slightly, Steve watched you closely, his soft eyes glancing over your features as though he was mapping them into his memory. Apparently, he wasn't too upset with his personality change. Before he could speak, the radio host cut in, his voice all too peppy for your liking as he announced the time.
“We, uh… We have to go get the kids.” You moved away from the boy’s embrace, trying — but failing — to stop staring at his soft, winsome smile before stepping back toward the trunk of the car, grabbing the brown bag now full of empty paper and cups and throwing it into the foot well of the passenger seat.
“Maybe a little tardiness will help Henderson be more grateful about all the free rides he's getting.”
Laughter fell from your lips as you buckled yourself in, “Possibly. But do you really wanna deal with an annoyed Max?”
“She can't be much worse than you, can she?” Smirking despite his words, you gave him a half-hearted swipe on the arm.
It turns out, Max wouldn't be the issue.
She stood happily chatting with the group, the icy tension between herself and El finally seeming to thaw, partially thanks to the way Max's eyes would consistently flicker toward Lucas who looked more like a lovesick puppy as time went on.
Dustin, however, furrowed his brows the moment Steve's beamer came into view. Steve had agreed to drop back any of the kids who needed a lift, but between Hopper and Joyce it was barely necessary, and only Dustin and Max made their way to the car.
“Took you long enough,” the boy heaved himself into the car, leaving the door open for Max to climb in after as she made her slow departure from the group.
“Please, you've barely been waiting five minutes-”
“Hairs looking great, Dustin,” you interrupted, hoping to stem their inevitable argument in its tracks.
“Between you and Harrington, I think we have the world's supply of hairspray in one car-” Max joked, her cheeks slightly flushed.
Cutting her off, you caught Dustin's side-eye from the door mirror, “If it's so unbearable, why didn't you get a lift home with Lucas?”
“Hey, man, not cool-”
“-Henderson.”
The car remained silent for a moment before the boy finally sighed out an apology that Max begrudgingly accepted, her sapphire eyes glued on the window though clearly not paying much attention to the passing neighborhoods, any sense of joy she’d had getting in the car now completely diminished.
Pulling up outside 4819 Old Cherry Lane, you all turned toward the house when Max let out a frustrated huff, noticing the light on in the lounge. As Max clambered out of the car, a quick thank you on her tongue, the front door opened revealing Billy, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a puff of smoke surrounding him as he stared out toward the car, barely dodging Max's body as she prepared to shoulder past him.
“God, what is his deal?” Steve asked, his voice low as his dark eyes darted between you and the boy who continued to peer into the car.
Tearing your eyes away from Billy, you shook your head, “Hell if I know.”
Steve stared down Billy for just a moment longer before pulling away and heading towards the Henderson household.
“So,” Steve began, thumbs casually tapping the steering wheel, “the whole outburst earlier? Not okay, dude.”
“I know, I just…” Dustin's face fell as he tried to find the right words, “It didn't go exactly as planned. I mean, I treated her mean, and it definitely didn't keep her keen.”
Whacking Steve's upper arm, the boy hissing dramatically at you as if it had hurt, you turned in your seat to face Dustin, “Your first mistake was listening to Harrington.”
Blinking a few times, the boy remained quiet, causing you to huff and turn back around, ignoring Steve glancing toward you every now and then, “Plus, the prehistoric and misogynistic notion that treating people you like badly is normal, is stupid. It's not gonna make them like you back.”
“Like… Like pulling a girl's hair in the playground?” Dustin asked, the clogs in his brain finally starting back up.
“Pull my hair in the playground, and I'll punch you in the throat. But… yeah. Just like that. Or, you know, acting like you don't care.”
The latter of your sentence was aimed at Steve, along with a sharp glare. He at least had the decency to look ashamed, “Look, I'm sorry Henderson-”
“No, no… It's fine,” Dustin waved off his apology, “Turns out she already likes someone else anyway, so I never really had a chance.”
Your brow furrowed, eyes softening at the boy's words, “Look, Dustin. I know it totally sucks right now, but you'll meet someone. And I'm sure they'll be totally psyched about whatever interdimensional creature you show her.”
“I guess…” Dustin was quiet for a moment, eyes staring out of the window to his left before they met Steve’s in the rearview mirror, this time accompanied by a deep glare, “Did you guys get burgers without me?”
The drive to Dustin’s house passed by in silence. Mrs. Henderson’s downstairs light was off, but you could see the light from her television set casting the room in a soft glow.
“Can you walk me to the door?”
Steve’s face pinched, a mixture of annoyance and confusion flashed across his once soft features, “Uh, no-”
“Not you,” the boy stressed as if he were offended before peering around the console to see you a little better, “you.”
Your brows were in your hairline as you unbuckled the seatbelt, Steve’s frown only deepening, “Henderson, it’s literally right-”
“-Thanks for the ride, Steve.”
You trailed after the boy, confusion still etched on your face but Dustin didn’t give you a moment to question his ulterior motive, “So you and Harrington hung out tonight?”
Blinking a few times, as if that would help you understand the underlying tone in his voice, you kept your eyes to the ground, watching your shoes as they led you up the familiar path, “Uh, yeah. I dropped El to the dance so we had time to waste.”
“Together.”
Rolling your eyes your hand shot out, gently halting his movements as you grasped his elbow, “Seriously, Dustin. Whatever it is, just spit it out.”
Biting his bottom lip as he took the time to inhale — and exhale — deeply, his eyes shot toward the maroon beamer, noting Steve’s curious gaze on you both, “I just… Everyone knows what Steve’s reputation with the ladies is like, and Nancy only broke it off with him like, barely two months ago, and I know she’s with Jonathan now, but-”
“Dustin,”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, alright? And I don’t want him to get hurt either.”
You remained quiet for a moment, but your eyes softened as you looked down at the boy, “Dustin… It’s sweet that you’re concerned for me, and for Steve. But we’re just hanging out as friends, alright?”
When he cocked a brow at you, you couldn’t help but hold in the small huff of laughter that escaped you, “Seriously. Nothing is going on here.”
“I just… I like when we all hang out, and I definitely like the free rides he gives us to the arcade. And I just… I don’t want anything to mess it up, or anyone,” he sighed, sending a pointed look toward the car.
Turning, it was clear Steve was trying his best to lip-read one-half of your conversation, and you were certain if you stayed out here any longer he’d be hanging out of the car in an attempt to satiate his inquisitiveness.
“C’mon, Dustin. We’ve all seen the girls he’s dated before. I mean, Nancy Wheeler? I’m definitely not his type."
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short-”
You, at least, realized this wasn’t a conversation you intended to have with a thirteen-year-old and cut him off quickly, waving a hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah. Keep your pep talk for another time. If you stay out here any longer either your mom or Steve is gonna have an aneurysm.”
Dustin pulled you into a tight hug, one you couldn’t help but reciprocate before bidding you goodnight.
All but falling back into the BMW, Steve was already questioning you before you’d even shut the door, “God, he really chewed you out over those burgers, huh?”
Trying to glance at him as inconspicuously as possible as you buckled up, you watched as the lights from passing vehicles danced across his features, the soft glow causing his honey eyes to appear hazel, “Yeah, he uh… He definitely had some opinions to share.”
Rolling his eyes, Steve sighed, “God, he really needs to tone down the dramatics.”
Ten minutes ago, you would’ve laughed. Told him that he had some audacity to call anyone else dramatic. But ten minutes ago, Dustin hadn’t questioned you over your blossoming friendship. Ten minutes ago, he hadn’t practically called you a rebound for Nancy. Hell, a rebound for Tommy and Carol, too.
It stung to think that there was a high possibility that Steve was only hanging out with you because he’d ditched — or been ditched by, once Billy Hargrove had come to town — his friends. Jesus, a little over a year ago he would barely blink at your existence, and you were fine with that. King Steve and his group of followers weren’t people you wanted in your life. You didn’t want to be his friend back then, either.
So, why now, did he suddenly want to be yours?
“I can see the smoke coming from your ears.”
“Hmm?”
Releasing a small laugh, he pulled up outside your house, the once peaceful silence of the car now feeling suffocating.
“Your brains working overtime. What’s got you frying your mind?”
Sending him a tight-lipped smile, you shrugged, “Nothing, it’s… It’s nothing. Thank you for tonight, Steve.”
His mouth hung open, half ready to respond but you’d exited the car a lot quicker than he’d expected. Turning in his seat, he watched as you ran toward your front door, quickly unlocking it and slipping away into the dark house.
#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington x you#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff
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Hey, how are you doing? A little fluf mixed with angst aks. How would the ROs of Silverking, in a late crushing stage when they realize their feelings towards the MC, react to finding the MC staring at their mother's picture while drinking alone and saying something like:
"Hey mom, I've made some new friends in my new work... One them is this person, their name is [ROs name] and I like them, I really like them, when I'm with them I don't feel alone, but I don't think they are interested is me... I wish you were here to help me mom... You would know what to say"
I've made a similar ask before, but I guess it got lost among the other asks. It happens, so it's okay :)
Oh, thanks, anon! I did receive your previous ask (both of them) - I'm just very slow in responding to RO reaction asks cuz I tend to write them longer than I should.
However, for this, I don't think I can answer this from the RO reaction.
So, to make it up to you, I'm gonna write this when Lucifer - MC's dad - is the one who found MC in this state :D Enjoy~
"Terrorbyte?"
Lucifer calls out upon entering the apartment, frowning at how there is little light within. It's not a sight he's unfamiliar with though, especially on this day.
After all, it's a day he and [Name] can't brush aside.
He squints into the dark, the moonlight outside aiding his eyesight with its gleaming shine. There, between the couch and the coffee table, is a silhouette sitting on the floor. He recognize the shadow to be [Name] in an instant.
He feels something solid against one of his foot and looks down, taking note of a rolling, empty bottle. His frown deepens. Have they been drinking? He looks around to look for the only possible witness but finds no sign of a certain ball.
Oli must be recharging; he may be a flippant attitude sometimes with [Name] in a casual fashion, but Lucifer has acknowledge early on that he is the most loyal ally and one who cares for them just as much as Lucifer does.
The large man bends down to pick up one of the empty bottles and walks closer to the coffee table, just in time to see the state of their offspring.
[Name] is almost sitting straight, occasionally swaying left and right whilst humming a tune Lucifer can only identify as an old song from the 90s. Of course, such humming is interrupted with a sharp hiccup, which seems to be funny to [Name] as they left out a light giggle.
"Hic!" Lucifer moves to sit next to them and he sees their eyes blink. He waits patiently for them to register the form next to them, their eyes narrowing for a quick moment before [Name] blinks again and finally realizes with a wide grin.
"Poppy! Poppy pops!"
Lucifer raises a brow. Just how much did they drink? He looks at the other side of [Name] to find more bottles on the floor next to them, definitely empty given how some are on its side yet dripping only one or two drops of alcohol. Lucifer turns his gaze back to [Name] and opens his mouth when [Name] turns to the coffee table.
"Mama, look! It's good ol' pops!"
A soft twinge tugs in Lucifer and he follows [Name]'s gaze to see the picture of none other than Perida [last name]. He closes his mouth, exhaling through his nose with a forlorn gaze.
"How long have you been drinking?"
His tone is soft and lack any chiding. If this had been any other occasion, he might tear a new one. But he knew of the psychological trauma of losing a parent was severe to [Name] and while he couldn't say the same about his parents, he shared the mourning of losing Perida.
She was the love of his life after all - a fact that has never changed, even after all these years.
"Mmm..." [Name]'s brows knit with attempted focus and they pull up both hands, bringing up a finger with each count. "One...two...three..." They pause and Lucifer can almost see the hamster wheel running in their head before they throw their hands up in defeat, grinning once again. "Since I said goodbye to the sun!"
So around sunset, which could mean at most four hours ago.
"You should slow down on drinking." He comments casually. If he tries to stop them, [Name] would only take it as a challenge to push it. He can make sure [Name] doesn't attempt taking even more.
He reaches out a hand on his right, willing the figure to bring a requested item he asks it to bring. He can hear the clatter and rustles in the kitchen, more clumsy than aggressive. After a minute, a cold glass fits in his palm nicely and he brings it to [Name] with a gentle tone. "Drink."
"Mmpgh..." Their face pinch to discomfort and they shake their head. "No...No more whiskey."
"This is water." Lucifer moves the edge of the glass to their lips and [Name], like a toddler, reaches up with both hands to cup around the lower half of the cup. They drink, gulping it. "Slowly, [Name]."
Once the cup is truly empty, [Name] drops their hands down. Thankfully, Lucifer is still holding the cup so it never drop. He places the cup just as [Name] begins to talk again.
"Was just...just telling mom about them. Hic!" [Name] blinks and Lucifer doesn't need to think twice about who [Name] is talking about. After all, he's noticed the amount of time both [Name] and the team have spent time together, especially one in particular.
"Oh?" Lucifer asks and this is enough for [Name] to ramble.
"Yeah! I told her about how we met and all the funny and crazy missions we went on! "
"I wish mom was here..." The words remind Lucifer of the small space of pain inside him, one Perida's presence once filled with ease.
It has been more than a decade since Perida's passing and though Lucifer had tried his best in filling the gap, there was still a part of him that worries of not being enough. It was one of the very few things he couldn't feel confident about; his wife was a person unlike any other.
"She would know what to say."
At this, Lucifer takes notice of the slight sadness. "About what, Terrorbyte?"
Perhaps [Name] was much more inebriated than they should be because they reply without considering who they're talking to, "About [RO]."
One of Lucifer's hands twitch.
"Iiii like them." The words coming out of [Name] is a bit slurred, drawing out the first word. Then [Name] is chuckling, a forlorn smile on their face. "I like them loads! I don't feel all that lonely with them..." [Name] closes their eyes and another laugh escapes them, more in defeat than humour. "But...they're not interested in me. They're not."
"That's not true, [Name]."
They tilt their head to him, eyes halfway open but the forlorn smile is still there. "'Course it is. Who..." Their eyes begin to droop, the drowsiness weighing on their expression. "Who would...want someone like...?"
Their words trail to a stop and [Name] shuts their eyes as they drop their head upon Lucifer's shoulder, who watches the sleeping expression on their face. The man sighs through his nose, bringing his arms to wrap around their shoulder and under their knees before picking them off the ground with ease.
It feels like back then, when [Name] came home upset about the kids teasing them for having no mother and that she 'ran away from trouble'. They tried not to show it, but Lucifer knew how much that hurt [Name].
There was a likelihood of them forgetting about this or pretend like it never happened. He wants to discuss this with them, but the circumstances is just too delicate. Even if he provides reassurance, it's highly probably that [Name] seeks more from the one person causing such self-depreciation: [RO].
It's times like this that he, too, wishes Perida to be alive too. It's a longing that persists, a pain that never goes away.
But he has to be strong. For the three of them.
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