#I also have LT on my ring finger but this is all I could do

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew. 

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 

He doesn't let go of you. 

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 

You need him. 

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not." 

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 1.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

a 'what if aegon didn't get poisoned and the greens technically won the dance but at what cost' au. basically aegon, alicent, otto and jaehaera are the only greens alive. and larys i guess. someone get rid of this guy.

word count: 4.6k

aegon wasn't as badly injured from Rook's Rest like in canon in this AU, he has a few burn scars near his torso but wasn't crippled / bedridden.

this is for my 100 followers poll. it was supposed to be a oneshot but will be a mini series in 3 or 4 parts. this is my first time writing aegon and it will also be somewhat of a character study.

thank you for 100 followers and everyone who participated in the poll. love &lt;3 thank you @randomdragonfires for beta reading, mwah mwah.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn

its been so long - the living tombstone • nobody - mitski

chapter specific warnings: awkward sex, p in v, virginity loss

Every day felt like a new restraint, a new button added to the collar choking around Aegon’s neck. He had done it– he had freed the realm of the false queen, his half-sister– and lost almost everything to do so. When did it end? When did he get to relax and run the realm as he saw fit, since they so intended to have them at the helm. He wore the conqueror’s crown, wielded his sword and bore his name and yet he couldn’t do as the conqueror actually did. Rule. He felt more like a dog than a dragon these days; but that was just a pattern in his life. They wanted him when they needed him and he was to shoulder their burdens as eldest son.

His grandsire kept breathing down his neck to secure another wife, another heir, another alliance brokered with another pompous house. 

“Listen to me, Aegon,” Otto began, his fingers laced together as he sat at his desk. He had summoned Aegon to the Tower of the Hand– he was summoning the King, rather than the King summoning him. Somehow, his council had let Otto weasel his way back into the position of Hand, Aegon’s mother in tears, pleading for it. There wasn’t anyone else fit for the job since Criston had died– and he was never really fit for it anyhow. “We must move quickly to provide you with a new wife. The realm won’t remain stable if we tarry in producing an heir for the throne.”

Aegon sat in the seat across from him, feeling more like a child than a King. He twisted the signet ring on his pinky finger. “It’s too soon. It would be an insult to Helaena.” he replied, not looking up at Otto. Helaena had only passed a few moons earlier and the wound was still fresh for all of them. Aegon never loved her like a wife– how could he, they were too different, too young– but he cared deeply for her as his sister and the mother of his children. Even thinking about taking another wife this soon felt like a betrayal. He would be like his father then.

A small huff and a rustling of papers was heard– Aegon was still too distracted by his signet ring, the thin light filtering through the half drawn blinds, causing a small glint off of the bronzed metal. He didn’t want to look up to see the expression on his grandsire’s face, he knew it was one of disappointment. Aegon couldn’t remember the last time that someone hadn’t looked at him with contempt, disappointment, melancholy. 

“You must understand. You have a duty to the realm–” 

“Fucking duty– don’t speak to me of it. I’ve done my duty for enough lifetimes. I let you put me on the throne and usurp my sister and look where that’s gotten us? Everyone is fucking dead, Otto. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Helaena, Aemond,” he paused for a moment, lifting his head up to meet the Hand’s gaze head on, “Rhaenyra, Rhaenys, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey– do I need to proceed? The majority of our bloodline is wiped out because of you and your ambition.”

Otto snorted, standing up from his desk slowly. He grabbed a decanter of wine, pouring them both a goblet. “You misunderstand. Everything I’ve done has been… for our family’s legacy– for the realm,” he placed the glass stopped back into the carafe, “Don’t you dare act as if I am not hurting for the loss of family– but war is war, boy. People die. It is unfortunate that… the ones close to us did. But we can’t live with our head in the clouds any longer, there is a realm to run and the crown comes with responsibilities. A wife and heir are one of those paramount responsibilities.”

“I have an heir. I still have one remaining child– Jaehaera is my heir. I deem it.” he spoke quickly, staring at the goblet of wine. He had reduced his intake of alcohol since the war ended– but the need for it was always there, always aching. He suddenly felt parched. Giving Otto a haughty stare, he took a sip from the glass, feeling his muscles instantly relax.

“Don’t be daft– have you so quickly forgotten what happened when the King last named a female heir?”

“It wasn’t that Rhaenyra was a woman, Otto. People would’ve learned to adjust if…” Aegon took another sip, clearing his throat, “If she hadn’t been infatuated with her freak of an uncle, you would’ve been able to control her easier, hm? It's always been you and mother behind the crown these past two decades– not me, nor my father.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Otto griped back, gripping his glass, “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. Rhaenyra–” he stopped, taking a breath, “Rhaenyra is dead. They’re all dead, you’re right. But there is still the whole of the Seven Kingdoms requiring a leader, especially now. A leader with a united front with a queen and babe. I won’t argue further on this matter.”

Aegon acquiesced. He would rather deal with Otto’s venomous viper tongue talking him into things he didn’t want to do now instead of his mother visiting him hours later in hysterics– he couldn’t bear it. Alicent was more of a mess now than ever. “Fine. I leave this in your very capable hands,” he stood up, swiping the whole jug of wine, “At least find me a pretty one.”

–

She was plain, unbelievably plain. Long, curled brown hair desperately in need of a trim, a poorly tailored dress that needed to be more fitted at the waist, stature too small and unremarkable to stand up to anyone of importance. Oh, and picked cuticles, the spots of red eking out from her nail beds. Mayhaps she and his mother would get along just jolly, then. She was to be his prospective wife and bear him more heirs. He wanted to shove it back in the council’s face and say he has an heir, his only living child, Jaehaera. Melancholy and withdrawn as she was, she was his heir.

The council disagreed, allowing Borros Baratheon to shove his last unwed daughter at him like a piece of meat that no one wanted.

Her eyes wafted up to glance at him, every move of hers uncertain, cautious. She was so deathly aware of each minute gesture, her posture having to be adjusted to straighten every few minutes. 

Lyanna Baratheon wasn’t of prominent knowledge and reputation like her sisters, aptly named ‘the Four Storms’ – she didn’t remind Aegon at all of a stag or a doe, but rather something more diminutive and easily killed, like a prey animal. Mayhaps a rabbit– it would be an apt description, as she had giant eyes, brown –almost black– in their hue, a shiny glaze over them as she stared at the ground. Every so often, their eyes would meet, brown to violet, and she would look apt as Aegon thought she was.

A rabbit begging for its life.

Borros Baratheon stood beside her, murmuring something into her ear. He was a boorish oaf of a man who couldn’t even read– Aegon wasn’t the brightest star in the sky when it came to matters of literature, that’d always been his brother’s realm, but atleast he could fucking read. He thought it quite hysterical that his house sigil was that of a Stag when Lord Borros reminded him more of a boar. Mayhaps he should change it. 

As he continued to whisper to his daughter, her expression went from sordid to panicked, then back to sordid. She wasn’t very good at masking her emotions– she would need to learn if she were to survive at the Keep. The tips of her fingers twitched slightly and she was obviously holding herself back from tearing into her nail beds. 

“Lord Borros,” Aegon broke the tension, “Perhaps I should show your daughter around the gardens while you speak with my grandsire. We have the most beautiful gardens here and I’d imagine that Storm’s End wouldn’t have something quite as grand,” he glazed over Borros’ blank stare, “due to the storms, of course.” 

Lord Baratheon adjusted his doublet, which was far too small for him— did the Stormlands not have a proper fucking tailor? — and nodded, “Yes, that would be amicable. It would do some good to familiarize yourself with one another before the wedding in a week’s time.” 

Aegon’s throat felt parched. He knew that they were speeding things along but he didn’t anticipate it to be this fast. Grabbing a bottle of wine from a nearby servant, he descended back to Lyanna, intent on whisking her away as quickly as possible. Not because he found her particularly interesting, rather the opposite, but he needed an excuse to get out of the room. The insistent thrum of his pulse in his neck was all too loud. His arm looped under Lyanna’s, “Come, my lady,” he hummed, trying to seem like he was somewhat collected and kingly and not on the edge of chugging the entire carafe of wine and smashing it over the next poor fucker’s head. “To the gardens.” 

He practically strung along the poor girl, who hurriedly agreed and tried her best to keep up. “Y-yes, your grace,” she mewled, her feet tapping on the ground at irregular rhythms as she hung onto Aegon’s arm, bouncing against the stone walkway toward the gardens, “King’s Landing is… very beautiful, my king– your subject must be very pleased.”

As they descended the cobbled steps down to the garden, Aegon eyed her warily, “Did your father tell you to say that?”

“N-no, not exactly–” 

“He did. Anyone with half of a brain and a working nose knows that this accursed city smells of shit. You shouldn’t lie, my lady. You’re quite bad at it,” he took a small breath as he looked at her expression– the poor thing was on the verge of tears. “You will get better in time,” he continued with a slightly softer tone, “This Keep is full of great liars and you don’t seem… too much like your father. I am sure you will pick up quickly. How old are you?”

“Nineteen, your grace.” 

Aegon resisted giving a derisive snort, instead uncorking the wine bottle and tossing the stopper into the grass, “You’re quite young, then,” he took a swig, feeling the bitter tasting liquid coat his mouth, “All the better for heirs. Or so I’m sure that we’ve both been told.” 

In truth, some would consider her a bit late in age to be married– but Aegon didn’t care as long as he wasn’t robbing the cradle like his father did to his mother, or Daemon to Rhaenyra. He was twenty-six himself and tried to remember what he was like when he was nineteen; he couldn’t exactly pinpoint an exact memory. It was mostly a blur.

“I am… hopeful to provide you with many healthy heirs, my king,” she replied, her words sounding rehearsed. She is as poor of an actress as she is a liar, then. She paused for a moment, looking at her hands, “I… do not wish to replace the late queen, her grace, Helaena– I merely wish to fulfill my duty to the realm and my family– I am terribly… sorry to hear about Helaena, my king. As well as your prince brothers. War is a terrible thing.”

Aegon blinked profusely a few times. Her words after her pause sounded genuine– mayhaps she is capable of thinking for herself. She seemed… softhearted, even if a bit naive. He regarded the bottle in his hand for a moment, swishing it around. No one had really apologized to him for his losses– the enumerable amount of them he’s gone through these past few years. They all bowed their heads and wouldn’t meet his gaze, as if their blood was all on his hands. Mayhaps it was. He swallowed, his mouth pursed in a thin line, “... War is indeed a terrible thing, my lady.”

They walked for a few hours around the garden, talking about various things. Aegon still found her quite boring and uninteresting to look at– she wasn’t ugly by any means, and could be considered pretty, but she was just so terribly plain that it bored him to tears. Her speech was all faux and he tried to eek out any genuineness to her words through different subjects– all to no avail. It seemed the sore subject of Aegon’s family was the only thing to break her from her carefully crafted script.

Eventually, they parted ways– for the better, he thought. She was a fine match, a fine age, a fine vessel for his seed to produce a royal heir and whatever other innocuous thing his grandsire needed from him. 

What a terribly dreadful life he’s let himself sink into.

That night, he drained two bottles of Dornish Red, falling much into the same state of mind he had when he was nineteen. Wandering to the Street of Silk, he whored and drank himself into a state of sloven mania.

In the midst of his drunken ramblings, he wondered if he could ever find someone who would truly love him or if his opportunity had already passed.

– 

The wedding followed in the timeline that Borros and Otto had set– as quickly as possible. The council dipped into the coffers to make it happen, it was to be an extravagant event, a new beginning for the realm. Artisans, fine bakers and cooks were all hired to make the wedding a facet, stringing up red, green, yellow and black banners, making dozens of delicate pastries and even cooking six turduckens to line the tables.

It was all lavish and opulent– and Lyanna could not feel more out of place. The past week at the Keep had been a whirlwind of planning, gown fittings, flower picking. Her sisters were there in attendance, speaking up more than she on what to pick. It was fine with her, as she couldn’t bring herself to care for it. The gaudiness of it all made her feel ill. 

She had only met with Aegon the one time, the first time. Lyanna felt she made a terrible impression— she was so nervous that day that she’d vomited twice that morning, all while her father screamed at her to get it right, to say exactly as he told her to. For the most part, she had done just that— played the perfect little puppet for him and said all those empty words that meant nothing. 

She was meant to see Aegon at least three more times before the wedding, as there were a few dinners arranged between their two families. He had been absent for all, his mother citing that he was unable to attend for various reasons but nothing overtly specific.

Alicent Hightower was a nice lady— she was warm to Lyanna, talking to her at the dinners when no one else had bothered. She was the person who Lyanna felt most comfortable with in the Keep and was grateful that she was to be her good-mother. Alicent was a bit frayed at the ends from the loss of her other children; she was haunted, her eyes constantly red-rimmed and murmuring prayers under her breath. 

The morning of the wedding, Lyanna was summoned to Alicent’s solar to get ready. 

She knocked on the door, “Your grace— it’s Lyanna.”

“Come in, my dear,” she called out, a maid opening the door to let her in. “How are you feeling this morn?” Alicent was perched on the settee when Lyanna came in, and immediately rushed over to her, taking the young girl’s hands in hers. 

“Quite nervous,” Lyanna responded, her hands quivering ever so slightly, even under the warm touch of Alicent. “May I speak plainly, your grace?” 

“Of course,” she ushered Lyanna to the loveseat and had the maid pour them both tea, then promptly shooed her out. “It’s just us now, speak your mind, sweetling.” 

“I-I am afraid that… Aegon will not like me. I fear I didn’t make a good first impression— he seemed quite bored of me.” 

Alicent took a sip of her tea, giving a small sigh. “I will do you the favor of not sugarcoating words and speak plainly like you have done with me. Aegon will not like you,” she pursed her lips into a thin line, twisting the signet ring on her finger, “Aegon is a creature of debauchery and sin— and you are a good, pious girl. You are like oil and water.” her brown eyes met Lyanna’s, her expression softening. The two women had a fast camaraderie, praying together each morning in the Sept. “You… may not love him, or even like him— but there is a duty upon you to fulfill. It is a burden we carry as women, my dear. We are always behest to the men in our lives,” she stopped, her eyes glazing over with a far-away look, “I don’t mean to be discouraging. You are a… good hearted young woman and I believe you can channel that into something positive as the Queen.” 

Lyanna felt her stomach quivering at Alicent’s words, her skin flushing. “I… appreciate your plain speech, your grace. I just… do not wish to displease him.”

Alicent’s mouth twitched at each end as if she were mulling something over. “It will be hard to please him, my dear. You are nothing like the women that usually please him,” she wiped a hand down her face, “You remind me so much of myself, Lyanna. Pushed into something you are… ill-suited for. You’re a sweet and kindhearted girl and I don’t wish for you to tear yourself apart on the inside and feel as if you’re not good enough for him– you are, you are too good for him, too pure, too-” Alicent took a measured breath, “You are not what he wants and you never will be, my dear. It will do you well to know that now rather than years later. There is always someone else in their eyes– women like you and I do what we can. I pray you will find things that keep you happy.”

Lyanna picked up her tea cup with trembling hands, taking a sip. There seemed to be more to Alicent’s words than them just being about Aegon– but she didn’t want to push it. Dipping her head, she thanked her good-mother-to-be once more.

– 

“Wake up, wake up!” a voice boomed, rousing Aegon from his haze as a carafe of cold water was poured on him. The girl latched to his cock like a leech let out a shrill scream and scrambled away.

“Fucking hell– who the fuck?” Aegon slurred, blinking profusely half a dozen times before his vision came into focus. It was one of the Kingsguard, one more behest to his grandsire than him– and his grandsire, Otto, who had the now empty container of water in hand.

“Wake up, you ingrate,” Otto growled, grabbing his grandson by his collar, hoisting him up onto his feet, smacking his cheek gently. “Your wedding is in two hours and you’re passed out in a whorehouse. You’re the king, for the Seven’s sake– I thought you left this debauchery behind, atleast have your whores at the keep instead of being in these pits of sin.” 

“You can put a number of different hats on a bear, you know,” Aegon slumped against the wall, “Many kinds of hats; a hood, a felted dante, a linen coif, a cowl, a straw hat, a jester’s garb– heh, that’d be quite funny–” 

“Is there a point to your drunken babbling, Aegon?”

“Yes, ah– you can put many types of hats on a bear and change its look but at the end of the day, its still just a fucking bear,” he straightened out his stained tunic, “Point being– you can stick a crown on my head, put a sword in my hand and put me through a war to keep me on that fucking throne but guess what, grandsire, I am still just a bear at the end of the day.”

Otto stared at him, brow furrowed. “You aren’t a bear, you’re a dragon and a king, so act like it. You are getting married in two hours and you look like a sloven mess. You’re lucky that Borros is as blind for power and recognition as he is or he would take his daughter back to Storm’s End and you’ll be stuck with the next best choice.” 

“That boring rube of a girl was my best choice? I must be fucked, then, either way.”

Otto and his Kingsguard dog dragged Aegon back to the keep, and observed while maids scrubbed him clean, red and raw. He was put in a nicely fit green suit, his House cloak strapped to his shoulders. It was a whirlwind of events that led up to the doors of the Sept being opened and Aegon ushered in.

His stomach churned and he felt sixteen again, forced to wed his sister. He remembered being hardly conscious throughout the ceremony, fumbling over his cloak and practically smothering Helaena in it.

He looked down the aisle at Lyanna, who was dressed in a pale yellow dress with long, flowing sleeves. She had a high collar with black lining and antler embroidery all over the garment. It was actually well fitted this time, likely thanks to his mother, and it turned out she actually had a figure, with plush hips and a well-endowed chest. Her brown hair was half up, half down with an assortment of intricate braids– it reminded him of how Rhaenyra used to wear her hair and he wondered who thought to style it like that, and he wondered if he was the only one who noticed.

As he walked down the aisle, he saw his mother in the front row– she was crying, thumbing a pendant in the shape of a Seven Pointed Star. 

The ceremony was a blur to him, as he put the cloak over her shoulders and sealed their union with a kiss– a chaste one. She tasted like lavender tea. As he pulled back, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed with tears, and he felt the familiar sting of tears in his own eyes.

The feast was much the same, as he drank himself into a numbing stupor. He only had one moment of clarity, as some of the rowdy guests began to poke and prod at Lyanna, talking about the bedding ceremony. She looked visibly uncomfortable, picking at her nail beds under the table. Something about the sight of her discomfort and pain stirred something in Aegon that he couldn’t name– maybe he was feeling sentimental from the alcohol, but a surge of possessiveness flowed through him. He wasn’t known to be possessive, much the opposite in fact. But the egregious actions of these men pawing at his wife– their fucking queen, mind them– making disgusting insinuations. If she were a whore, it’d be different– but she was so… innocent, so coerced in all of this just as he was, it felt wrong. 

Aegon snapped, slamming his cup down, “There won’t be any fucking bedding ceremony,” he growled, “My wife and I will be retiring to our chambers– alone. And if… any one of you lays another paw on her, you will lose it.”

Lyanna stared at Aegon, those huge brown eyes wide. Her lips were parted slightly as he once again strung her along the halls to his– no, their– chambers. She was shaking.

Once in their chambers, he let go of her, uncorking another bottle of wine and taking a swig. “I presume you think that this is where I will fuck you, hm? Stick my prick in you and make an heir and we will all live happily ever after like a child’s storybook.”

Lyanna stared down at her feet. “It… it would be… the duty of husband and wife to consummate–”

“Fuck duty! I’m not going to fuck some weepy eyed maiden because my old fuck grandsire said so. I don’t have need of you in that way.”

Her hands were trembling as she unlaced the back of her dress, her movements autonomous– she was doing what she thought she should be doing in this situation. She began to undress, slipping her gown off and leaving her in her silken shift, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. The sight of her body, soft, stirred something within him for a moment, like a spark trying to ignite kindling.

“We don’t have to do this, Lyanna,” he murmured, using her name for the first time. He put down the wine bottle. “We can wait.”

“N-no! Please, I want to– please,” Lyanna whispered, practically pleading for it, as if she wanted to get it over with. “Please.”

Aegon rubbed a hand down his face. “Get on the bed then. Lie on your stomach.”

She did as she was told, laying flat on the bed on her stomach. She clutched some pillows as a lifeline.

He knew he should warm her up, he knew that they should want to touch one another, he should want to see her face– but he didn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her face, or touch her for longer than was necessary. He barely shimmied down his trousers before he began poking at her entrance with a half-hard cock, partially trying to give her a moment to get used to the sensations, and partially trying to find where he was supposed to stick it– he knew, of course, he’d fucked his way through King’s Landing and then some, but he hadn’t fucked many maidens, and especially not when he was blind drunk.

Eventually, he hit home and slid into her, his movements slow at first. He could hear her whimpers and knew they weren’t of pleasure. It reminded him of his wedding night with Helaena where they’d both cried– all the memories of that night came flooding back, causing him to falter.

Lyanna looked back at him, her eyes puffy and red, “I-Is it over?” 

Aegon swallowed sharply, cringing as he stared at her. The moment of arousal he had– purely from stimulation alone– was gone now, his half-hard erection deflating completely. “Fuck– yes, it’s over.” he didn’t have the heart to tell her that it in fact had hardly started before it was over– and not in the good way. He pulled out of her, taking in a deep breath as he walked to the water basin and soaked a cloth with warm water, offering it to her. “Wipe yourself– it will help with the… pain… and blood.” 

She took the cloth, wiping away the remnants of their half-fulfilled consummation. “I-I’m… sorry,” Lyanna whispered, sniffling, “I know I am not what you want.” 

His mouth was pulled into a thin line as he turned away. “You’re right. You aren’t.”

They fell into bed next to each other and Aegon’s mind was swimming as he tried to sleep. He didn’t know what he wanted. He never wanted any of this– he just wanted to be a kid again with no responsibilities, with all of his siblings, even Rhaenyra– he would’ve… he would’ve been nicer to all of them, he wouldn’t of picked on Aemond, he would’ve gotten to know Rhaenyra better, he would’ve played with Helaena’s bugs, he would’ve taught Daeron all of the secrets of the castle. He would’ve told his grandsire to fuck off when they were to crown him and had Sunfyre char him to a crisp and given the crown to Rhaenyra.

He would’ve been loved then.

He just wanted to be loved.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #wine red tears gold

[justporo]

Dumb Ideas

"Staeve's arm was around the vampire’s shoulder who - like every night - acted like he was disgusted by all the affection but leaned into it as soon as one of you tangled their limbs with him. You had one arm slung around the pale elf’s mid with your head on Astarion's shoulder. Which also had the advantage of Staeve being able to caress your cheek and play with your reddish-brown hair - or pinch your ear. Meanwhile you were in the perfect position to nudge the half-drow's side whenever he got too feisty."

Staeve and you decide it's a good idea to pierce each other - while Astarion can't stop commenting on how idiotic that is...

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So uhm, @velnna has allowed barbies being smashed with his Staeve and... my brain started to think of a sweet polycule with Staeve, Astarion and my own girl, Tav (the hero to almost all my fics)... how could I resist? And you might be saying "Poro, isn't this very self-indulgent?" to which I would agree, but have you considered that I am down bad for this half-drow? So, @velnna, big thankies again for letting me borrow Staeve again, he's wonderful as are you! &lt;3

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: well, they pierce each other, so don't do this at home, kids? Wordcount: 4,5k

In today's spoils from taking out the occasional bad guys on your way to bigger fish you had to fry in Baldur's Gate, there was something a bit peculiar.

Quite obviously just before you had gotten to these bandits they must've relieved someone else of a lot of jewellery: beautiful golden necklaces, amulets adorned with shimmering stones of all colours under the sun, delicate silver bracelets - and a surprising amount of piercings.

Back in camp now after a full day of adventuring, the party had started sorting through the valuables.

Staeve was just inspecting the pieces when you came over to him and the vampire. He was turning them around in his fingers while Astarion was captivated by a collier with rubies that matched the colours of his eyes very nicely.

When the half-drow saw you coming out of the corner of his black and teal eyes he looked up and threw you a grin: “Looks like I got myself an upgrade for my ears.”

He winked and immediately pocketed a few golden earrings - just to be sure to have them. You raised an eyebrow at the rogue: “Who says it's only you getting some new ones, eh?”

Stepping closer you grabbed Staeve's hand which still had some more gold rings and bars in it. And then while getting so up close and personal with him that the tips of his forest green hair almost tickled your face you wrung the remaining pieces out of his hand. He let you. And grinned benevolently at your audacity - thieves among each other.

“Sharing is caring, love,” you whispered and mimicked his wink from before exaggeratedly and stood on your tiptoes to press a quick peck onto the half-drow's lips. You felt the corner’s of his mouth curl up more as you kissed him. 

“Oh, don't worry, there is plenty to go around!” Staeve declared cheerfully and opened up his other hand with much more loot.

You narrowed your eyes at him while he rewarded you with a shit-eating grin. “There should be enough for all of us, even for Karlach. Although I'm not quite sure how many she might have,” Staeve mused and looked around to find the barbarian enthralled by Gale explaining to her in excruciating detail how to recognise a real diamond over a fake one.

“Or maybe we could do new ones. Especially since I don't know what these are for,” he held up some half-moon shaped pieces with a bar connecting the curve.

You just shrugged.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Astarion had snuck up behind you in the meantime. Having - just like Staeve - secured his more than fair share of the spoils already.

“If you're intending to pierce your nipples, darling, I'd be more than interested to see that. Because that's what those are for,” he explained and pointed one of his long fingers at the thing Staeve was still turning around in his hands.

“Or maybe our sweetheart Tav would like to try that out?” Astarion teased as he stepped up even closer  behind you and you felt his hands suddenly cupping your breasts for a short moment and squeezing them upwards - making you yelp. “I'm sure it would suit you terribly well and would make for some extra fun for Staeve and me,” he haughtily whispered close to one of your pointy ears while he tried to make eye contact with Staeve. But the half-drow was too mesmerised by the sight of long elegant fingers presenting a quite alluring view of you exactly in front of his face.

And before you could swat the vampire’s naughty hands away he had already disappeared again with roguish quickness, just laughing. But you wouldn't let yourself be treated like that - not in public anyway. So you went after him, trying to get some revenge.

Meanwhile Staeve held the supposed jewellery for a nipple in front of his chest and looked at it curiously, his lips pursed. Then he simply shrugged and went after his two lovers who were hissing and swearing at each other somewhere at the back of today's campsite.

***

The rest of the party had split up the loot with everyone humming contentedly about the sudden wealth you had fallen into. Astarion had put on the ruby collier to everyone’s entertainment and Karlach had been happy about the still huge amount of new piercings she could take her pick from. Quite some more jokes about how other companions could adorn different parts of their body were made over a generous dinner. The wizard had thrown in a little extra effort and ingredients to celebrate the unexpected financial triumph for it to everyone’s delight.

And once everyone had had their fill of food, laughter, amiable companionship and the sun had set, everyone had retired to their tents - or each other’s for some.

Astarion was languidly laying on the pillows in front of his tent reading, one leg casually angled, the other splayed. He hadn't stayed solitary for long.

Staeve and you had bundled up with him like it had become second nature for all of you: Astarion in the middle, all smothered by you, the other rogue and your joint, multiplied love for him.

Staeve's arm was around the vampire’s shoulder who - like every night - acted like he was disgusted by all the affection but leaned into it as soon as one of you tangled their limbs with him. You had one arm slung around the pale elf’s mid with your head on Astarion's shoulder. Which also had the advantage of Staeve also being able to caress your cheek and play with your reddish-brown hair - or pinch your ear. Meanwhile you were in the perfect position to nudge the half-drow's side whenever he got too feisty.

On top of that you had hooked one leg around the vampire's while Staeve had one of his threaded through the angled one. Effectively you had all immobilised each other as you lay there all knotted.

You were talking about and presenting each other the pieces of jewellery you had saved for yourself, talking about which fit whom better. Or, Staeve and you did. Passing the delicate golden earrings between you, just over where the vampire held his book.

Astarion just occasionally threw in some teasing commentary and eyed the glinting ornate pieces - more than once trying to swat them out of your hands when he got too annoyed with the two of you disturbing his peaceful reading.

Having two lovers so eager and physically affectionate was surely a blessing for the tortured soul and body of the vampire - but it still took him some getting used to. So his usual coping mechanism was to be sassy about everything. Staeve and you knew that by now and usually took it as a hint to give your third a bit more space - however that may look like in the moment.

Right now you had each picked out several pieces and were getting bored anyway. The conversation drifted off. Peaceful silence spread between the three of you.You were toying around with the laces on Astarion’s shirt while Staeve had stuck his nose in the vampire's curls and pressed soft kisses to his scalp.

With your other hand you fidgeted with one of the piercings, letting it wander around your fingers. And while it made another turn around them, a thought slowly formed in your mind. But before you could voice it, someone else broke the quiet moment.

“You two are terribly silent - it's disturbing,” Astarion burst out after a while of neither you or the half-drow saying anything. Sassy, just like you were used to.

“First you're annoyed by us talking and now of the opposite. Make up your mind, darling,” Staeve muttered flatly and softly bit into one of the vampire's pointy ears.

Astarion hissed and snapped his face around to his insolent lover. Pushing him away with his long fingers splayed over the half-drow’s face, his pale skin contrasting with Staeve’s darker skin.

“I was annoyed at you for passing things right in front of my face while I am trying to read,” Astarion snapped back. “Also usually when the two of you are silent like this one of you is about to come up with a really dumb idea that will come back to bite us all,” he snarled in response to the other rogue’s complaint and Staeve grabbed his hand off his face - but not without a small kiss to it.

“You're one to talk Mr ‘I-am-not-a-details-person’,” Staeve gave back, unwilling to be called out by someone with so little talent for coming up with plans himself.

“Rich coming from someone who repeatedly almost got himself killed with his stupid need to throw himself at every blade pointed at Tav or me, my love,” Astarion snapped back again.

The two of them kept bickering and teasing each other playfully until Astarion rolled his crimson eyes and decided to end the argument by grabbing Staeve's face and kissing him. Up until both men were merely softly humming and moaning, content with being wrapped up in each other.

This so far had always ended any dissonance between the three of you for good. No opportunity for arguing when mouths were occupied otherwise.

You observed the scene as those two turned more to each other, laying on their sides. You moved so you were basically spooning the vampire, your head still on his shoulder but now from behind. You let your hand wander from Astarion’s waist to Staeve’s hand that was cupping the vampire’s cheek along with the kiss. Letting your fingers softly trace down his freckled arm and eliciting a light shiver from him. His eyes flew open, gaze softening at you and your soft caress. The three of you stayed like that for a long time, making you almost forget your idea.

“But what if we actually got some new piercings?” you posed as a question when the two rogues finally broke their kiss and stared tenderly at each other after.

Staeve's gaze immediately snapped to you and he began grinning, face lighting up with some radiant energy. You could always count on him for a quick and probably somewhat stupid idea.

“Absolutely not,” Astarion exclaimed though and huddled around so he lay as before, picking his book up again and forcing both you and Staeve to readjust positions again. Well, his standpoint on the whole thing was clear.

But Staeve and you were still grinning at each other in agreement.

“You do whatever you imbeciles want but no one is touching me with a needle!” the vampire reiterated and shimmied himself around deeper into his pillows. A steep wrinkle formed between his furrowed brows as he made a show of focusing on his book again, basically making the pages snap as he opened it up at his bookmark. But Staeve was already up and about to grab supplies for your endeavour.

“Your loss then,” you whispered to Astarion and leaned over for a quick kiss to take the frown of his face. It worked quite nicely.

“Don't let Staeve poke your eye out, darling,” Astarion purred when you pulled away again, raising one of his eyebrows.

You stuck your tongue out at him and made to get up. But the remaining rogue quickly grabbed for your wrist and pulled you back onto him for a longer, deeper kiss - arm around your waist so you couldn’t so easily escape.

“Don't poke out his either, sweetheart,” Astarion mumbled when you withdrew “I like my lovers each with both their pretty eyes.”

You gave him a peck onto the tip of his nose.

“Well, who says I'm not doing the nipple piercings after all?” you retorted and jumped up to go after the half-drow while Astarion offered you a fiendish grin at the proposition.

Shortly after, you and Staeve had returned with supplies: needles out of your packs, strong liquor from the camp supplies and of course some suiting gold rings.

Despite the expressed interest for something else, you had decided to let Staeve pierce your bottom lip so you could put a ring through it. And now after he had poured some alcohol over the needle you were sitting in front of each other with crossed legs - while Astarion watched from the back with a perpetually raised eyebrow.

“Have you done this before?” you asked the half-drow as he bit his lip and obviously didn't know how to get going.

“Of course! I've done all my piercings myself. Also pierced others before,” he answered and kept inspecting your lips as if there was something new to see. As if he wasn’t staring enough at them every single day already.

You eyed Staeve's ears and the rings dangling from them. Some of the spots had healed a little roughly it seemed. “And all your victims so far still live?” you asked sceptically and grabbed the bottle of liquor that Staeve still had beside him to take a good swig from it. Staeve pressed his lips into a thin line as he watched you drink, clearly not even thinking the question worth an answer.

“Having second thoughts, darling?” Astarion threw in sarcastically, staring at you from under his brows when he had seen your questioning glance at Staeve's answer.

“I'm surprised you'd let him put a needle into you. Some days I'm surprised he remembers to use the pointy end of his dagger,” the vampire continued while letting his eyes drop to his book again and pointedly turned over to the next page.

Staeve puckered his lips and stared down Astarion who must've felt it and lifted his gaze again to stare right back. “Just leave me something to kiss,” the pale elf concluded and went back to reading.

The half-drow sighed and grabbed the bottle of liquor from you and also downed a fair amount - not exactly adding to your trust in him. But with some liquid courage within him he cracked his neck and made to get to work.

He softly grabbed your bottom lip between his index and thumb, softly tugging. His teal eyes flitted over it while he hesitantly brought up the needle to it. Meanwhile your silver eyes remained firmly on your partner, watching as his lips slightly parted and a light frown formed on his face. Silence spread for a few long heartbeats.

“Your hands are trembling, love,” you muttered, with as much clarity as your caught bottom lip allowed for.

Staeve's eyes jumped to yours, a hint of desperation lit up in his eyes.

“How am I supposed to do this with you staring at me like that, sweetie, hm?”

One of your eyebrows jumped up, lips curling into a smirk.

“So what you're saying is I am distracting you with my piercing eyes?” you teased.

Staeve rolled his eyes at you but smiled. And both of you heard how Astarion clicked his tongue at you.

“I don't want to hurt you,” the half-drow whispered once he had shaken off your stupid joke.

“Surprisingly this doesn't seem to be a common problem with you,” you gave back slightly breathy and watched a soft shade of pink colour Staeve's cheeks.

Then he tugged harder on your lip, making you whimper slightly in the process. “Well, if you say so, Tav,” your lover teased in a low tone, leaning ever closer to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, biting his own lip now.

“Please, don't have too much fun without me,” Astarion commented from the back in a mockingly dry and bored tone.

Your eyes jumped to the vampire who wasn't even looking at you.

And suddenly you felt a sharp sting that caught you off guard. A single yelp left you, then you looked back at Staeve and - blinking a few times to manage the pain - realised that he had pushed the needle cleanly through. He grinned triumphantly at you.

Without letting go of the needle he grabbed the golden ring you had picked out and carefully threaded it around your bottom lip once he had pulled the needle out. Then he softly dabbed off some blood with some clean cloth.

You didn't even further react to all of it until he finished his job with a very delicate kiss on your lips (that still sent another sting of pain through the wound but you barely minded).

“There you go,” Staeve grinned at you. “Looks hot!”

You grinned back and flinched only a little when you felt some pain from the movement.

“Turn your head for me, darling?” Astarion demanded back from his vantage point. You obeyed and underlined your new accessory by adding a playful wink. The vampire rewarded you with his signature smirk and hummed approvingly: “I have to agree with you, Staeve darling, it does suit her.”

The half-drow puffed out his chest in pride, extremely satisfied with himself and his work. He kept looking at you, eyes wandering over your new piece of jewellery again and again.

Then, while pain began to slowly throb through your lip you got up from your cross-legged position.

“Now your turn,” you said as you got up and grabbed a fresh needle. Staeve's mouth moved silently as you quickly poured some of the alcohol over the needle and were already reaching for one of his ears. He had opted for another earring for a longer row down his pointy ears.

What he had not opted for was how fast and eager you were to get to it now that you were already dealt with. He lifted his hands defensively and leaned away from you.

“Don't you just want to take a break first, see how you are with the pa-” “Don't chicken out on me, darling,” you immediately interrupted him and grabbed for his ear with a wicked grin and glint in your eyes.

Staeve yelped and still tried to lean away from you despite you already having a grip on him. This went on until he lost balance and toppled over. You had no problem with this and quickly followed him, climbing onto him until you were straddling him - his ear still in your grasp and in your other hand the needle.

“Love, I'd really appreciate some of the restraint I showed towards you,” the half-drow pleaded, one hand still held up to guard himself and with the other holding himself slightly upward to not fully lose control of the situation.

“Looks like someone delights a lot more in pain than you do, Staeve love,” the vampire once more threw in. This time he had actually lowered his book. This was all way too entertaining now.

You answered your vampire with another fiendish grin, then looked at the rogue beneath you once more.

“Have mercy, darling!” Staeve pleaded once more but you saw now how he could barely contain a grin himself. The twitching corners of his mouth gave him away.

“This is going to be it, Staeve? This is how you'd beg when she basically has you by the balls? Pathetic,” Astarion teased ruthlessly and then clicked his tongue again. Staeve and you shared a glance. Both of you knew the vampire would make much more of a fuss would he be in the half-drow’s position now.

The rogue beneath you made a slightly despaired noise, then took another breath and looked you straight in the eyes: “Alright, you know what. Tav, ge- wait a second!” He interrupted himself and grabbed the bottle of liquor again, downing the rest of it with impressive speed.

“Get it over with,” he finished and then turned his head slightly to give you better access to the side of his head. He was still eyeing you cautiously.

And as you moved in until the needle was almost touching his ear, his free hand snapped up and grabbed your hand: “Count to three? Please?”

His eyes were genuine this time when he asked that of you. Your gaze softened, your hand with the needle dropped slightly. And with your other you softly let your thumb wander over your lover's much darker skin.

“You don't have to do this, Staeve,” you whispered and let go of his ear to softly cup his cheek and turn his face around to you. You softly pressed a kiss to his lips, biting through the pain immediately shooting through your lip doing this. Staeve let go of your hand to mirror you, the pad of his thumb softly stroking over your cheek as you kissed.

But when you lifted your head up again you saw the determined glint in his eyes, being sure he wouldn't pull out of this, no matter what.

“Hells no, I want to do this. Just - count to three,” he asked of you. You simply smirked and grabbed his chin to turn his head back to the former position.

“Ready?” you asked and felt how some nervousness welled up inside you too as you carefully aligned the needle with your partner's ear.

Staeve slightly nodded as he looked at you. He trusted you after all. Even Astarion was still watching right now.

You took a deep breath - as did he. Your eyes were firmly on him.

“One,” you said - and pushed the needle through the half-drow’s ear.

Naturally, you took him fully by surprise. His mouth opened, ready to let out a yowl of pain but then realised it wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought. “Oww?” he made, more question than exclamation of pain, while you already pulled the needle through and fiddled with his new earring.

“Well, I could do that again anytime,” Staeve boasted afterwards and leaned forward - until he had to wrap his arms around you to stop you from falling off his lap. You grabbed a cloth and cleaned up his ear while he kept grinning at you insufferably and you pouted at him for how easily he swatted away his hesitancy from before.

“You like it, darling?” he shouted towards Astarion fishing for a compliment like you had gotten and meanwhile fully ignored your attitude.

The vampire rolled his eyes then nodded in exaggeration at Staeve, putting on some massive histrionics. Then he rolled his eyes again and went back to reading.

“Are you guys done now? Can I finally read in peace again?” Astarion spat towards you as Staeve let his hand wander up your back and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours.

“Still no nipple piercings for you?” the half-drow suggested cheekily and threw his other lover a glance. But the addressed vampire just stared at him in annoyance for his insolent proposition and shook his head - moving up his book to block both of you out of his view while he muttered something under his breath. Something about what he must have done to end up in this situation.

And while he kept softly muttering to himself, Staeve looked back at you, softly motioning towards Astarion with his head and a slight grin on his lips. You immediately fully understood his intention.

Without further need for communication the two of you dashed back towards your third and smothered him in between you: showering him with kisses while wrapping all of your limbs around him. Basically giving him not a single chance to escape your joint affection. The book was quickly wrestled out of his hand and discarded to the side.

Of course the vampire took it with hissing and many very verbal complaints but he simply couldn’t resist his partners showering him with the love he deserved. In the end he let himself be happily swept up between the two of you. All of the affection making him almost forget that it hadn’t always been like that.

It took a while before the tangle of limbs calmed down again. By the end you were almost in the same position again as you had started the whole night with, neatly wrapped up in each other.

Astarion looked at the two of you softly since you had seemingly used up all of your chaotic energy for the day.

When he took in your face, one of his eyebrows jumped up as he looked down to your freshly pierced lip. By now you could certainly feel it swell up and how it began to throb in pain.

Before you could question his intention, Astarion leaned towards you and softly licked up a fresh trickle of blood from the wound. All while retaining eye contact with you and sending shivers down your spine. Afterwards his lips stayed for a kiss - cautious of course, to not cause you more pain. You would have loved to deepen the kiss more and see where it could possibly lead. But you knew the pain would make you regret it and so it remained quite chaste.

When the kiss ended, Staeve immediately inserted himself back into the situation: “And are you taking care of my ear too, or…”

“I’m definitely not going to lick your godsdamned ear, Staeve!” Astarion answered with a snarl.

The other rogue pouted.

And that surprisingly was all that had been needed for Astarion to give in despite himself. With a loud sigh, he turned over and softly pressed some light kisses to his lover’s new earring. Staeve grinned at him contentedly and drew him back in for another open-mouthed kiss that went on until all of you slowly felt the exhaustion of the day finally catch up with you.

Slowly the three of you settled into serene silence: only the campfire still crackling, soft breaths drifting off into the aether and the sound of two hearts beating for three filled the night now.

It would have been perfect to just drift into your dreams now - if only it hadn’t been for the pain that now really kept bothering you.

You caught Staeve’s gaze and saw the same agony mirrored on his face - especially since he was laying on the side of his freshly pierced ear. You made a face towards your half-drow partner. He answered you in like.

But neither of you would have bothered to get up and do something about it. Especially not if it meant letting go of your vampire for only a second.

But Astarion noticed anyway.

“Regretting the consequences of your actions, darlings?” he teased with a bit of bite in his tone. But when both you and Staeve made big eyes at him, he simply sighed. Then he tried to detangle himself with quite some effort and got up.

“Where are you going, Astarion? You can’t just leave us here, not if we’re hurting!” you exclaimed and immediately shimmied over into Staeve’s open arms since the spot between you was empty now.

“I’m going to get the druid to fix you up. I can’t have you die of an infection because of this. Not before either the tadpole or I get to you,” Astarion responded with some annoyance masking his actual care for the two of you as he was already stomping away.

“Or do you rather want me to get Shadowheart?” the vampire teased you.

Staeve and you looked at each other. Both of you could imagine the amount of judgement you’d receive from the cleric.

“Halsin,” you exclaimed in unison and heard Astarion laugh slightly in response. And then you waited until your temporary missing piece returned to make the three of you whole again.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please): @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 companions #staeve #astarion x staeve #astarion x staeve x tav

[ourautumn86]

W ♡RSHIP ME

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM! INNOCENT CATHOLIC READER

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! &lt;3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!&lt;3

Synopsis;; you didn't know what was happening with you, only that you wanted to dance with the devil under the name of Eddie Munson.

inspired by amazing writers such as @eddiemunsonhotgf and @dinodinodin0 ♡

CW;; references to the bible and church (also, eddie is not a believer and talks about his sinning and also is harsh about god, AGAIN DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PLEASE), mocking of god, cursing, drug use, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, masturbation, dacryphilia, worshipping kink, god kink, overstimulation, a little bit of perv!Eddie, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

(this actually got a little bit out of hand…)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Word count;; 9k

†

“Pray to me. Worship me.”

To be honest, Eddie gave a absolute and incredibly huge fuck about ‘the above’. If there were rules any supposed God had put on a silly book then there was him to break every and each one of them.

It was easy really, look.

“Thou shalt not steal.”

Jesus, what the hell? And literally speaking. Come on, he was not really gonna die from lightning if he borrowed a couple of rings from the punk store, was he?

2. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”

I mean… More than one mother he has already fucked, so there was that…

3. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

… Yeah…

4. “Thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain.”

God could suck his cock, honestly.

5. “Honor thy father and mother.”

Say what now? Didn’t knew her. And him? He could suck his cock too.

6. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

Oh yeah, sure. No lies, blah, blah, sin!, blah, blah. He was always lying (justifiable). Even to himself, for fucks sake! If you went and asked him if he wanted to fuck you, will he say yes? Well, that was not a great example, but y’all get the point.

7. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

Would you count as one of your father’s goods? ‘Cause if that’s the case… He couldn’t really help himself. He was going to make you his any way or the other.

8. “Thou shalt not kill.”

Well, except for that. He really hadn’t done that…

Well, as he was saying…

9. “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”

With how you looked in that tiny little navy skirt and the way your tits pushed against your white catholic highschool shirt? He didn’t think he would be able to keep holy even in a normal day.

And lastly…

10. “I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have any gods before Me.”

Oh, but he had one. You.

You were this kind of fucking angel sent from heaven. With your beautiful and silky hair falling to your back in waves, the prettiest and shiny eyes he had ever seen and rosy fully glossed lips that parted to sing along with the church’s choir. With that wonderful body of yours that he would absolutely go down on his knees to worship, you and those curves, ass and thighs that he so has dreamed of making a mess of with his lips.

You had the sweetest voice and personality he has ever known, always so caring, so giving and so sensitive… Oh god, his cock pushed against his black jeans every single time a tear would cascade down your cheeks when you volunteered for those in need, too overwhelmed as you prayed for them.

He wanted so bad for you to pray for him instead, down on your knees, with those pretty lips…

He was no catholic, he never was. But for you? Jesus, he would even enroll in one of those goddamn religious schools, cut his hair and go around like a goddamn prep church boy spreading God’s word if that meant he could stay as close to you as he could.

You had noticed, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was the black sheep amongst all those white ones as the pastor went on and on towards the end of the mass. He was there every Sunday, just to see you. And sooner or later your eyes had drifted to the end of the room and met his. He felt as if he could die a happy man there, when you gave him a sweet smile before getting back to praying.

To your eyes he seemed… Different. Different than any other boy you had ever met. What was comprensible since you were always surrounded by your very well mannered and stiff classmates. If any of them were there, they would probably start saying something about how people like him would end up being abandoned by god and in hell.

You could almost hear them and your father to stay away from his kind when the priest announced that all of you shall receive communion bread from your neighbor. You didn’t know why, but before noticing, you were drifting away from the crowd and towards the back with one of the hosts in your hands, towards him.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed that you were approaching him, no one had before. So he felt clumsy as he stood up from the wood bench in which he had been sitting for the last one and a half hours.

Your eyes met his when you were close enough, and he simply stared at you, at your soft skin, long lashes and cute nose. He was taken back when your hands rose from below and towards his lips. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes darted towards one of the angels carved in the wood walls. He then understood what was going on when he noticed the little bread medallion on your fingers. Fuck, he hadn’t done the communion, so was he not supposed to eat that?

His eyes went back to your expecting face, who was now looking at his indecisive one, attentive.

Fuck it.

He thought as he leaned down and took it with his tongue. You felt your face redden when his bottom lip brush against your finger tips, his brown eyes closing as he leaned back tall, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” you slightly jumped on your spot. His voice was so… You couldn’t even describe it with words. What it did to you, how your whole body seemed to have been set on fire and your hands trembled as you nodded, unable to even speak up.

You both stared at each other for what it seemed to be hours on end before you could recompose yourself and turn around to head back to your sit on the front. You were flushed, and you softly slapped your cheeks to focus. And you tried, you really tried, and yet, there you were, sneaking peeks to the metal head every now and then just to find out that he was already staring at you, making you stupidly blush every single time.

Oh yeah, Eddie loved mass now.

The best day of the week was Sunday. No discussion. Maybe a common teenager would actually prefer Friday, but Sunday was the only day of the week he actually got to see you, so that’s that. He could understand his uncle’s confused gaze every weekend when he would tell him he was going to church, but it was fun anyways. He could even see smoke coming out of his ears trying yo understand why him would be going to mass every week.

But oh, well. Anything to get a glimpse of you.

He couldn’t understand it either. It was like an obsession, taking out the stalking shit. He just couldn’t get enough of you and your discreet peeks at him, of how every time you would come to him in mass when the host had to be given and of how you always seemed to blush around him. It was instantaneous, the connection.

Maybe it was true that opposites attract. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, his whole being was focused on you.

It was late at night and mass had just finished, everyone was saying their goodbyes at the doors and outside, going to ride back to their homes.

By now, he knew that you always stayed inside for a little bit more, maybe to help the pastor, or pray just one last time before leaving, who knows? He would just wait for you, anyways, blunt on hand and eyes on the wood doors.

The smoke burned his throat as he dragged a new hit from it, and the cold night’s air was hitting his face and blowing his curly hair. The sky was full of stars, but the only sight he would die for was you.

You shivered as you stepped out of the church, waving a goodbye to the pastor with one of your sweets smiles, which disappeared rather quickly when the cold air hit your bare skin. Your uniform was really not made for winter-like nights, and the thin sweatshirt that you had brought with you even less. You groaned when you remembered that today neither of your parents could come pick you up and that you had to walk back home. Good thing was that you lived nearby so it wouldn’t take you long.

You smiled to a few of the families that said their goodbyes, your eyes strolling though the plaza ‘till they met the more wooded part of it and at the same time, a pair of brown ones that stared at you, glistening under the fire of the blunt in between those soft lips that touched your fingers every Sunday. Your cheeks went hot pretty quickly as you looked the other way, your steps not waiting to start moving towards the street, but you stopped halfway, something inside you tugging the other way around. You fisted your hands and squeezed your eyes shut as you stood there, indecisive but knowing damn well what you wanted. Eddie’s eyebrows rose, awaiting for your next move as he stared at your back and silk hair. Surprise filled his factions when you turned around in just a mere second, starting to walk towards him still with your eyes closed shut. As if that would help you…

Cute.

He had to bit down a smile, still looking away and leaning in the tree on his side side while getting a new drag as you closed the distance.

He stared at you when you had finally come to meet him, your eyes darting away from him just to go back in less than a few seconds. He fought the urge to smile once again when he saw you try and say something, struggling to find a way how to start.

He was so close… So close that you could smell the earthy smoke —not truly knowing what it was—that surrounded him and his stupidly addictive cologne. Okay, breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

“Hi.” you stuttered, looking up at him since he was a few inches taller than you.

He smirked as he hit the blunt one more time before temporarily turning it off since he wouldn’t want you to be around the smoke.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he calmly said, slowly blowing off the smoke away from you, saving the rest of his blunt in his pocket. His mind was the complete opposite of his appearance, it was a mess. Holy shit, you were so close. And, fuck, you were talking to him. For the first time ever. This was a fucking dream.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the little nickname, a shy smile pursing your lips. Your brain was probably burning now due to all the thinking you were doing, trying to think about something to say to him. Hell, this was hard. “I saw you on mass.” you muttered, wanting to really kick yourself due to the stupidness that you’ve said. That was something he already knew.

Eddie smiled, giving you a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat. God you were so beautiful… “I know, I saw you too, gorgeous.” And he was high. What only made his infatuation worse. “Are you not going home? No one coming to get you?” he inquired you.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna walk the way back, my parents couldn’t come today.” you smiled to what he frowned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he inquired back, chuckling a little bit. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t walk alone at night, doll.”

You froze when one of his hands reached to brush back your locks from your face, making your stomach turn.

“We wouldn’t want any bad guy hurting you, would we?” you shook your head in response, to what he hummed. “That’s right… So, why don’t you let me take you home, sweetheart?” he offered you, cautious to not come out as a creep or something like that. He really wanted you to get home safe though.

“Would that be okay?” you inquired, making him smile.

“Of course, gorgeous.” he frowned when he saw you shiver, quickly getting rid of his jacked to hand it to you. “Take this too, I’m sure you are freezing with that uniform on.” you blushed when his eyes scanned your bare legs, your soft hands bumping against his more tougher ones when you muttered a little ‘thanks’ and pushed the warm vest on your shoulders. You felt like drowning, not only because it was absolutely huge on you, but because it smelled like him. With that woody string that you couldn’t really put your finger on.

He mouthed a ‘fuck’ when he saw you on his jacket, your innocent eyes staring at him as you melted on the denim. You looked so beautiful that it made a boner start to grow on his pants. But he pushed the dirty thoughts that filled his mind to the back of it and pressed his palm on your lower back. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he smiled at you as you both walked towards his van, which’s door he opened for you before getting on the driver’s seat and starting the car. Music filled your ears when the radio got turned on, only a whisper to your ears as you were so focused on the way his veiny and big hands gripped the wheel and manhandled it to start driving away.

He made sure you had your seatbelt on, but really didn’t mind to even put his on before getting to the road.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he inquired you, turning down the music a little bit as his eyes quickly found yours, nodding when you gave him your direction.

You both were silent during the drive, not an awkward kind of it, though, more like a warm one. Your eyes wandered around the messy van, which was filled with metal tapes, some beer cans, cigarettes that had stumbled out of the ashtray and notebooks and book on the backseats, which were clearly from D&D.

“You play the guitar?” you inquired when you noticed one red pick hanging from his neck, something you hadn’t been able to see since it has been hidden under his jacket.

He smiled at your question, his body shaking slightly when you leaned over him and picked the pick in between your fingers. The design was really beautiful. “I do, actually, I’m even on a band.” your eyes widened.

“Really? What’s its name?”

“Corroded Coffin.” you nodded. “We play at the Hideout from time to time.”

“How cool, I’ve never met someone who played the electric guitar, on my school they’re forbidden. They only teach us how to play the piano.” you sighed.

“Well, If you liked I could play for you sometime.” you seemed exited at his offer.

“I would love that! I’m sure you’re amazing.” he felt himself slightly blushing, looking at you with a little grin before shrugging.

“I guess I’m good with my fingers.” he chuckled when you only smiled wider, pretty shiny eyes shining under the moonlight and completely oblivious of the lustful meaning of his words. What an innocent girl. “Okay, how about I play for you…, If you play for me too? What do you say, hm?” he said, pulling over in front of your house and stopping the car to turn to look at you. “Do we have a deal, gorgeous?” he inquired while offering you one of his hands on a shake.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Okay.” you muttered, talking his hand in between yours, amazed by how his rough fingertips stayed warm even in the coldest of nights and just how long his fingers were compared to yours. A lightning went down though your whole body when his free hand reached your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as his eyes took in just how perfectly sinful they seemed. He dreamed of someday tasting them, breaking them with his teeth.

“I can’t wait.” he whispered, your doe eyes staring into his when he flashed you a smile and pulled away. “Now, get home safe, gorgeous. Don’t keep your parents waiting.” you nodded, following his orders and getting off of the van, not before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, a shy giggle falling off your lips.

“Thank you for taking me home. I’ll see you next Sunday!” you waved goodbye as you walked towards your door, cheeks flushed and a big smile.

He gave you a wave just as you closed the front door behind your back, his raised hand pressing against the tingling skin of his cheek, where your lips had rested.

She’ll be the death of me…

He thought as he stared his van once again.

And that was just the start of everything.

You and Eddie became close pretty quickly. Was he the best influence? Absolutely not, since he had found a way to take you to the last church’s bench just to keep you giggling and blushing all the way through mass.

He had even introduced you to his friends. They were really cool…, different. There was this little genius named Dustin, who along with his friends always played D&D Friday afternoons, Steve and Robin, who worked on the Film Store and were always discussing the best films of history, and Nancy, the sweetest yet fearless girl you had ever met. At first you felt like an intruder, but they seemed to like you as much as you liked them, since they started to invite you to your hangouts and always ask Eddie about you when they had the chance.

Your parents were surprised, if not astonished, at first when they met Eddie and your group. They were so used to those prude bible lover classmates of yours that it was a shock for them. But once they saw just how happy it all made you, they decided that they’d accept it only if you continued with your bible studies and went to church every Sunday, what you obviously weren’t planning on stop doing.

Something forbidden though, was having boys at home, even more in your room.

But the first time that Eddie knocked on your window a Friday night it all want to… well, Hell.

You were laying on your bed after having had a long bath and fully clothed on your flared night dress, reading a little bit of one of the books that Eddie had lended you: Lord of the Rings. He said that once you had finished the first one he would give you the second. You would lie if you said you understood something, if not anything. But you weren’t that far on the book yet, so maybe you just had to give it time. You were lost on the inked papers when suddenly someone knocked at your window, startling you. With widened eyes you turned just to see a smiling metal head waving at you and pointing at the window lock with a little smile. You quickly closed the book and walked towards it, unlocking it just to see the curly haired get in without making a sound.

“Eddie?” you clasped over your mouth when you found yourself speaking too loud, whispering when your lips parted once again. “What are you doing here!?”

“Just wanted to see you, gorgeous. Is that a sin?” he mocked you, wandering around your bedroom and taking every single detail in as you hurriedly closed and locked your door.

Eddie found himself mesmerized by your room, it was a complete opposite of his: clean, organized, pink…

You grasped away from his hands one of your teddy bears that he had took to inspect, his brown eyes back on you.

“You know you can’t be here! What if my parents found out?” he hushed you with a soft smile on his lips, hands on your shoulders.

“They won’t. I promise, alright? I parked the van one block down your neighborhood, they won’t even suspect. Never saw me climb in too, so we’re safe.” you seemed relieved, falling on your bed and him following, sitting on his book and pulling it off under him just to smile and look at you. “You’re reading it!” you looked at him.

“Well yeah, at least I’m trying. Everything is so confusing…” he let out a little chuckle.

“You know that if you need my help you just want to ask me, sweetheart. I can explain to you the lore in less than thirty minutes from all the times that I’ve read the saga.”

You giggled when he bumped the book on your head, making him let out a soft laughter too before he would make you blush —like always— by complimenting just how beautiful you looked that night.

Even though you always feared him getting caught by one of your parents every single time he sneaked in and, getting you grounded, with every new secret visit, that fear slowly disappeared.

Eddie made you feel good, and safe. He always talked to you about his day, giving you as much details as he could just so you could feel how being a Hawkins High student felt like. Of course, he took out Jason’s bullying and how everyone thought of him as a freak in fear you’d end up thinking about him the same way they thought about him, which was stupid, since you adored Eddie.

He was always the sweetest, always taking care of you, making sure you were warm every night after church, comfortable on his van’s seat… Making sure you had something to eat, trying his best to make you feel like the most important thing in the whole world… It made your heart beat pretty quickly when he would take your hand when you walked down the streets, making you go on the inside part and telling you to be careful with the rain poodles in case you’d go and slip.

He always let you hide on his chest when you watched scary movies with him on his trailer, and gave you his shirt and sweats —which were too big for you— to sleep if you ever decided to spend the night. He even lent you his bed and slept on the couch. He was a gentleman.

Or that’s what he wanted you to think. ‘Cause he really was no saint. He had to fought a boner every time you’d sleep over, or fall asleep on his chest after a long movie night, or ignore the way your tongue swirled around an ice cream, or how your tits bounced while running for him and pressed against his chest, or fight the urge to touch when while reading your little cotton panties would show under your night gown, or when your skirt would rile up a little bit too much exposing your perfect thighs… Fuck. He had had to go to the bathroom multiple times to masturbate and get it over with or else he would feel like going crazy.

He wanted you, really wanted you. Wanted to make you choke on his dick, to touch you over your panties in the last church’s bench while the mass went on, make you grind on him in the confessional, he wanted to hear you moan in his ear as he pounded in you in Steve’s bathroom while the others watched a movie downstairs, he wanted to mark your neck just so you would struggle to hide them from your catholic little teacher and friends. God, he was the devil, and you were that pretty little angel that he so wanted to corrupt all for himself.

He had dreamed about you, crying while being too cock drunk, begging for him to fuck you harder. He would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and with cum in his underwear when he once dreamed about you calling him your god.

He felt sick. He was sick. Sick for wanting to hurt you, to cuff you to his bed as he ate you out over and over again ‘till you couldn’t cum anymore, for taking a knife and cutting his initials on your flesh only to lick clean the wound and then let you taste it on his lips, he wanted to fill you up with his cum and watch it drip out of your tight little cunt just to get hard again and fuck you one more time. He wanted to spank you so you wouldn’t be able to sit on your chair next morning, he wanted to choke you and hear your whimpers as he fucked you stupid.

He had even stolen your used panties from the dirty laundry once that he had sneaked on your bathroom under the excuse to pee, just to fuck his fist —once he was back in his trailer— with them and lick the crotch as he pleasured himself while fantasizing about it being your pussy instead. He had even risked waking you up while masturbating next to you in your slumber, for fucks sakes!

He wanted to hear you scream his name so bad… Hear you beg for him to do anything he wanted to you, to fill you up, to break you, to…

“Eddie?” you sweet voice filled his ears, pulling him away from his train of thought. You two were alone for the night in your house, your parents having gone away on a trip due to work and leaving you all alone, to what you’ve asked Eddie if he could stay with you since you were scared. After a couple of minutes, he was knocking on your door with all types of movies and snacks. And there you were, in your room, under the dim light of your lamp and the television, which played ‘The Exorcist’.

It was not the first night the two of you had spent alone in your room, he had slept over each time your parents were away just to keep you company and hugged you ‘till you had fallen asleep. But something was wrong that night. Well, you had been feeling kind of strange for a while now.

It all started a couple of weeks ago where one of your friends had come to school with flushed cheeks and a scarf around her neck, which was strange since it was not that cold yet. It was not ‘till recess when she had told you all about it and taken of her scarf to show her little secret. She was full of hickeys, something you’ve learned not too long ago. You didn’t understand what had happened ‘till she whispered about the weekend he had spend with his boyfriend on her house, while his parents were away for vacation. She had given all of you clear details about how she had gotten those and how his boyfriend had —and you quoted— wrecked the shit out of her. Even though you were quite lost, you knew that whatever she had done was a sin, since they were out of marriage. But when you told her so she just went and told you ‘As if you didn’t have a boy that you’d like to fuck too.’ Your eyes had widened at her words, cheeks flushing and confusion settling on your head when suddenly Eddie’s face came to your mind.

That day, you spent the whole school time thinking about it, fire on your stomach when suddenly you’d imagined yourself with your neck full of bruises just like your friends but this time being Eddie the one that had sucked them on you. Was then when you started feeling strange, your whole body flushing and a really uncomfortable tingle in your lower parts that had you awkwardly brushing against your chair from time to time, what only made it worse.

You thought it had gone away, but then you had met Eddie the next day in church and that feeling had come back to haunt you, worsening with the little strokes that his fingertips gave to the thigh where his hand rested. You had tried and praying it away, too embarrassed to even think about what that exactly meant and trying to erase your friend’s words out of your head.

Although everything went down hill when you woke up one night startled and with slick in your panties due to a very indecent dream you had had. You didn’t understood why, but you had taken the teddy bear that Eddie was always messing with and pushed it in between your thighs in hopes that it would stop that tingly feeling that so crazy was driving you, only to find yourself pushing against it when you felt good… Really good even. Even more when you went ahead and went though your dream one more time. It was Eddie, slowly kissing your neck, skin glistening due to his tongue and little open mouthed kissed and bites that he had given you, and not really knowing how, that same mouth had ended up finding its way in between your thighs and buried himself there. But you got scared as your stomach tightened and pushed it away, gasping for air with tears in your eyes as you grasped tightly your rosary in between your fingers and prayed and prayed over and over again. Although the pain never left.

You couldn’t even look at Eddie’s face due to the embarrassment that night after church, and prayed the whole day after that, scared that some demon had come to hurt you on your sleep.

What would Eddie think of you? What would God think about you?

You had tried everything. Everything to push it away, to forget about it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he was drawing little circles on your bare thighs, your head against his shoulder and chest, your arms around his waist.

Yet there was it, that stupid feeling once again, making you all flushed and wet down there due to just a pair of simple touches from your best friend.

“Can you… Can you please stop touching me?” you inquired him with a soft and hurt voice, trying really hard not to brush yourself against your bed sheets for that relief you had felt once with your plush. No. It’s wrong. It’s wrong…

He seemed surprised at first at your words, but quickly pulled his hand away from your skin, worry on his voice. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, was I making you feel uncomfortable?”

Surprisingly enough, you whined when you felt the urge to ask him to touch you again, feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated and scared that tears started to form on your eyes. Eddie’s widened when he heard your little gasps and hiccups, being quick to stop the movie and turn to you, his eyes finding your teary ones.

“Hey…” his voice was filled with sadness as his hands cupped your rosy cheeks, his eyebrows turned and face worried. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his thumbs swayed the tears away as you cried, shattering his heart.

“I— I don’t feel good.” you muttered, making him worry even more.

“Why? Are you feeling sick? Does it hurt somewhere?” you nodded, crying even harder, your hands fisting his shirt. “Where? Where does it hurt?” he inquired you but you simply shook your head.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you.” and you truly couldn’t, what would Eddie think of you? He would hate you! He would leave you alone and then you two wouldn’t be friends anymore.

He looked so concerned he seemed pale. “Tell me where it hurts, baby, please?” he inquired and you only buried your face on his neck. “Please baby, please?”

You hid even more before you could mumble something his ears didn’t catch, your breath on his skin making him slightly shiver.

New tears damped his tee as you cried on his neck, him not truly understanding, taking your face in between his hands once more and away from his neck to try and understand as he tried to push away that lingering pleasure of seeing your tears.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just… I just can’t make it stop!” you frustratedly whimpered, your thighs pushing together.

“What is it, gorgeous? You know you can always tell me anything, I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” he promised, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

“It hurts very bad, Eddie.” and when he softly asked you again where you muttered a “Down… Down there.” your pretty voice came out as a whisper, but he was still able to hear it, his eyes drifting to your legs, which pressed tightly against the other.

“Down there, baby?” you nodded.

“It feels hot and hurts when you touch me and I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry, I’m veryveryvery sorry Eddie, please don’t be mad, please?” you begged him, his heart skipping a beat when you confirmed his guessing.

You were… You were, fuck.

“I’m not mad, doll.” he gave you a sweet smile as he pushed the last few tears away from your cheeks.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” he nodded, gulping hard when you squirmed under his touch once one of his hands had found his way to your thighs. “But I need to you show me where it hurts, okay sweetheart? I don’t really know what you mean.” he said, rubbing circles on your warm skin.

Oh, he knew what you meant. He perfectly knew. But it was too good to be true. You? Hot and bothered because of him? God was really playing with him right now, right? This couldn’t be…

“Can you do that for me, hm?” you nodded when his soft voice reached you, your own shaky little hand taking his just to push your thighs apart and slowly start to drag it inwards, a sigh scaping your lips.

This was one of those goddamn dreams, it had to be. It had to… Jesus H Crisht.

“There.” you stuttered when his palm was fully cupping your clothed cunt, the warmth and wetness in your panties making him moan.

“Is there where it hurts, baby?” you nodded, your eyes closing as your teeth captured your bottom lip. “Since when does it hurt, hm?” he inquired, trying really hard to stay still and not push those goddamn beautiful panties away to push his fingers roughly inside you and make you scream.

“Since a couple of days.” ‘Since the dream’. You wanted to add.

“My poor baby, all frustrated and bothered. You must have really had a bad time…” you nodded, almost crying once again, when his other hand cupped your wet and warm cheek, his lips on your ear as he whispered. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You know?” you inquired, your voice holding a little bit of hope in all that list that you really couldn’t understand.

“Mmh, mmh.” he muttered, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, eyes on it as his tongue dampened his own. “It happens to me too… All the time. But only when I’m with you.” you gasped at his words, quivering when his minty breath hit your face. “I know how to make it feel better. Do you want me to make it feel better, gorgeous?” you quickly nodded, your hips bucking towards his hand when his fingertips slowly and softly made its way down your slit, still not pressing into your wet folds.

“Yes please, Eddie. Please.” you begged, making him grin at your broken pleads, even more when your head fell backwards and you moaned when his touch became rougher, his body moving ‘till he now rested behind you, your back against his chest.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his fingers touching your clit over your pink panties. You nodded. “Words, gorgeous. Use your words.” his index pressed harder and you whined, your fingers fisting the floral sheets under you.

“Yes. Yes. Feels… Feels good, Eddie.” you found a way to babble out, too out of it.

“Look at you, I’m only touching you over your panties and you are already like this.” he chuckled. “Such a good dirty girl.” you whimpered at his words, hips pushing against his touch, shaking when his lips found your neck. “Why don’t you be good for me and get rid of your panties, mh?”

You were quick to push them down your thighs, your slick forming a thick string in between the cotton and your cunt that made Eddie groan, dick fully hard underneath his jeans.

“Good girl.” he praised you, his hand going back in between your thighs, taking your breath away. “Does that feel better now?” you nodded, incredibly overwhelmed by the difference that it was having him touching you under you clothes then above. Hell, if you had been close to cumming with just your teddy bear, you were now seconds away from bursting. “I bet it does. So pretty.” his middle finger pressed against your entrance, circling it and making you moan his name.

“Eddie.” he groaned when it fell from your lips, your nails digging on his thighs as you pulsed against his fingertips. “More.” you didn’t truly know what you were asking for, but the words came on it’s own as you whimpered, pushing against his finger.

“Does my pretty girl want more?” you answered with a plead ‘yes, please’. “Then open up for me a little bit more, baby.” he said against your neck, sucking slightly on your skin and making you moan as your thighs parted to their limits. “That’s it.” you cried out when his finger slowly pushed against the ring of muscles, sinking in when it gave out.

“Eddie…” you whimpered, the strange feeling of his finger inside of, you slowly pulling backwards just to push back in once again, making your head spin, the wet sounds of your pussy receiving his digits making him lose his mind.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his hard dick pushing against your lower back. He was so hard he swore he could cum just with your whimpers and moans. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good…” your nails dug harder on his thighs when he tried his luck by pushing another finger in, this one stinging but not for long since his thumb pressed against your clit and his two fingers curved to hit your g spot.

You then became a mumbling mess, begging for that feeling again, for more from him and crying and moaning his name over and over again.

You were feeling once again that strange and overwhelming pressure in your lower stomach. And he knew, since your walls were tightening around his fingers, that you were close. Close to the best feeling that you had yet to know.

“Eddie, I…”

“You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. “Gonna scream my name as you cum, hm?”

You didn’t know what it was, but you were so close, so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me have it.” and with a last breath you broke down in cries and high pitched moans, his name falling off your lips as the best thing you had ever experienced hit you. It was warm, and so intense that it made you lose focus of your surroundings, making you go blind as Eddie groaned in your neck, biting down on your soft skin. “Atta girl.” you whimpered as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm, your thighs twitching and tears in your eyes as your walls fluttered around his rough and thick fingers. “Fuck baby, that was so hot.”

You gasped for air as you came down, your head against his shoulder and entrance twitching when his cum covered fingers left you and found its way to his mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum.

You whined at the sight, making him smirk. “What is it, want a taste sweetheart?” you nodded, half-lided eyes shining with pleasure. “Then open your mouth for me.” you did so as he turned your face with one of his hands just to lean on you, his tongue sloppy but hungry in your mouth and his free hand groped one of your breasts, making you moan.

It was your first kiss, and even if you had imagined it a thousand times how it would be before, it was definitely not like that. It was messy, and hot, and really difficult to follow. That’s why you found yourself pulling him back in from his neck, wanting more of his lips on yours and your taste in his mouth. But he just wouldn’t give it to you, chuckling mere inches from your face making you whine.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we ask for things, beautiful.”

“Please, Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip ‘till your mouth was open for him once again.

“Stick your tongue out.” he ordered, and you followed, moaning when he leaned in once again, his tongue bruising your own and making your eyes roll when his free hand snuck back to your thighs, this time ascending to your tummy, all the way up ‘till his fingertips bumped against your under boobs. “Fuck, you are not wearing a bra, baby?” you shook your head, his dick twitching against your back, but later against your thighs once he had pushed you on your back and quickly topped you. “Such a tease…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck, giving you a harsh bite that made you cry and pushed him flush against you, his hands taking a hold on your pretty tits under your shirt, your nipples hard and begging to be touched.

“Eddie, please… Kiss me, please.” you pleaded for him to go back to your lips, to your tongue, intoxicated by his touch, his words and his hard dick pressing against your skin. You so wanted to be touched again, to be relieved from that pain that once again grew in between your thighs.

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and letting out a hurt whimper when he pinched and pulled your nipples, leaving that tingle and warmth spread on your skin. “Cant hear you baby.”

“I want it, please, please, please…” your hips pushed against his when he found his way in between your legs, wet pussy against the rough denim of his crotch. “Please, Eddie, it hurts.” new tears came to your eyes, moaning over and over again when he started to dry hump against you, rubbing your sensitive clit and making you see stars.

“Such a greedy little bitch.” you cried out at his words, all that sweet talk leaving him when his palm hardly fell on the flesh of your thigh, making your body jolt. “Gave you my fingers and yet you don’t find it enough?” the next slap made you push harder against his cock, making him groan in your chest as he snapped the buttons of your shirt just to let his tongue freely lap at your tits, biting and sucking hardly on your skin, leaving beautiful marks behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried, one of your hands instantly going to take a hold on the little cross that dangled from your neck, something you did as you prayed and in times where you felt like giving into sin.

“You gonna pray, whore? Gonna pray to god while I fuck you?” he inquired, his grip on your wrists as he pushed your hands away from your necklace and over your head. You moaned when the denim brushed over your cunt once again, it dampening due to how wet you were. “He’s not the one making you feel better, sweetheart. You should be praying to me. It’s me who you should be begging and for which you’d go down on your knees, don’t you think, hm?” you nodded even though the grip on your wrists pained you and his teeth harshly dug on the skin of your neck, ‘cause it felt so good, better than anything you’ve experienced before. “What a dirty slut, giving in to me just so I make you cum, isn’t that right? Say it. Say you want me to make you cum all over my cock.” your body grew on goosebumps to his orders, you babbling and trying to make sense of the words who left your lips, receiving a harsh slap when you could find a way to pull them in order. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you want it. You want me to make you feel good again, right? You want to make me feel good?” you quickly nodded, eyes closed as he dry humped against your aching cunt. You no longer wanted his fingers, you were in need of something bigger, something that would fill you up to the brim and make you choke out on it. “Then say it, baby. I know you can.”

Your lips parted in a cry when one of his hands left your wrists just to find its way to your clit, thighs shaking as you felt the pressure start to build again in your stomach, lifting you higher and higher.

“Please, Eddie. Make me…” you whimpered when his circling didn’t stop. “I want to cum on your cock.” you managed to say, not really caring anymore about the eyes that watched you up from the sky. If God loved you…, then why would he make this a sin? Why could something that felt so good be bad? Maybe Eddie was right, maybe it was him your truly God.

You found yourself tugging against his hand and trying to push him back to your core when he pulled away, leaving you with an orgasm that never came and shaking on your place, begging in between little whispers and mutters.

“Fuck. Look at you. All messed up and I haven’t even begun to fuck you. You are gonna do good for me, isn’t that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, and fucking take it.” when he finally freed your wrists, your hands quickly searched up for him, his own unbuckling his belt as you nodded, pushing his jeans and boxers —wet with precum — down his thighs, freeing his aching and swollen dick, which bumped against his happy trail. You eyes widened at the sight. So that was what had been poking you that whole time. It was strangely beautiful. Mushroom tip wet and red, great length and girth with a couple of veins on its side… It had a little curve too. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, gorgeous?” you nodded, eyes never leaving his cock when his hand gripped and started moving around it, soft groans that made your pussy clench leaving his lips. “Then why don’t you open up yourself for me, hm? Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” you moaned at his hungry gaze, tongue sliding through his bottom lip as your hands snaked down your chest and stomach to your thighs and later on, your folds, your fingers digging on your wetness just to open them up, giving him a full view of your twitching hole and clit. “Fuck. Atta girl. You’re so good baby, so good for me.” you whimpered, hips pushing against his own when he was once again in between your thighs, tip sliding though your folds and bumping your clit, making you moan and your head fall back.

Your hands quickly found the bottom of his shirt, and later, his bare back, your eyes wandering on the ink that decorated his skin. You’d seen it before, of course, since he mostly wandered around shirtless in his van, but it never failed to amaze you. It was just so beautiful… He moaned when your nails dig on his shoulder blades, his dick twitching against your entrance and slightly pushing against it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Eddie, I need you, please God, I need you…” you babbled out, pushing against him and pulling him closer, the grip on your hip tightened as he smirked.

“Who are you begging to baby? Me or God?” his mouth hovered over your neck, his tongue flattening in a long wet strip from your collarbones to your ear, whispering there and making your skin prickle. “Or maybe I’m both?” you moaned and he just smiled wider. “Yeah?” his eyebrows rose as you nodded, bottom lip in between your teeth and breath hitching when his tip pushed inwards once again, teasing you. “Am I your God, sweetheart?” you nodded again, moaning when he softly bit your jaw. “Then pray to me.” he mumbled, his tip finally pushing and gaining a lustful and painful whine from your lips. “Worship me.” he groaned as he slowly thrusted in your wetness, cursing under his breath since you were so tight he felt like exploding.

Sure, it hurt. It was your first time. You hadn’t even ever touched yourself before that night, Eddie’s fingers doing the honors to let you know that that kind of pleasure was possible in a human being. And that it was okay. Your bedroom floor hadn’t cracked open to let you fall to Hell, like you’d feared, instead, rising you to Heaven, higher and higher above the clouds and nearer the sun.

He was so big that you felt like dying, so heavy and warm inside you that had you all messed up and crying under him due to the desire and pleasure that surrendered you to his touch. Your tears bringing him to groan as he bottomed out, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t yet believe that he was inside you, fucking you, making you cry and beg for him. “Fuck.” he cursed, trying to focus on not cumming on the spot, trying to ignore the way your walls surrounded him and your body twitched, nails digging in his back as you rocked against him. “So good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” you whimpered, his hands wondering around your body and giving you soft squeezes as encouragement. He was waiting for you, waiting for the pain to dissipate and you to get used to him being deep inside you. When your rocking became more noticeable, he smiled at your pretty moans.

“Eddie…” you called out for him, gasping for air when he pulled out ‘till only the tip remained inside and thrusted back in, hitting something inside you that made you see stars and cry out.

“That’s it.” he cooed, pounding on you once again, hair caressing your chest and his lips brushing against yours. “Such a pretty girl taking my cock.” you whimpered, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and kissing you dirtily as his groans made you gasp. It was too much. Too much. “Take it, doll. Take my cock. Just like that, fuck. Good girl.” you moaned his name as his hips started to take up on speed. “You like that? Like my cock? This sweet pussy of yours seems to love it.” he smirked as a new thrust let you hear the dirt sounds of your juices against his dick. “So greedy, sucking me in so good. Such a slut.” you screamed when his hand fell harshly against the side of your thigh.

The only thing you could do was moan his name over and over again, the constant hitting to that sweet spot inside you driving you crazy and nearing you to that now known feeling of relief.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even talk.” he laughed, thrusting harder, deeper, faster… “You’re drooling all over yourself, baby.” you gagged when two of his fingers went into your mouth, drool dampening them and spilling over your chin. “What a pretty girl. So pretty letting me fuck her just how I want.” he moaned when your walls tightened around him. “Taking me so good. Such a good little toy.” you cried, his fingers making your pleading all muffled and broken. “You liked that, baby? Like me to treat you badly?” another slap on your thigh had you nodding like crazy, his name falling off of tour lips when his fingers left your mouth only to wrap around your throat, making the oxygen hardly full your lungs and blood flow to your brain.“I’m sure you’d let me cum in you, isn’t that right. I can bet you even want it. Want my cum filling you up so good you’d beg me for it every goddamn day, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” you nodded, begging for it and making him grunt on your mouth, his tongue pushing against your lips. You choked at the feeling of his fingers digging on your neck, his name falling off your lips like a church song.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” new tears streamed down your face when his fingers found your clit. And by the way you were tightening around him he new you were close.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” you nodded, moans closer to each other. “What a good girl. Cum for me baby, let me hear you.” you didn’t even wait to do so, cumming so hard you swore the world was falling to pieces around you, your sweet choked out whimpers making him lose control, fucking you harshly and mercilessly, your hands leaving his shoulders to press against his stomach, scratching him when he wouldn’t even let you rest from your high, which never seemed to finish.

“Too much, it’s… It’s too much, Eddie, please…” you begged, choked by his hand, feeling the constant pounding build something different inside you. “Stop! Stop… Something’s… Something’s gonna come out!” you begged, but he didn’t seemed to listen, too out of it due to just how pretty you looked crying and getting the shit fucked out of you by his cock.

He moaned at your arching back and high pitched scream, juices gushing out of your pussy and dampening his cock, thighs and your sheets. His eyes widened when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

“Did you just… Fuck baby. Did you just squirted?” you were a crying mess under him, too overwhelmed to even answer or really understand what had just happened. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking cum.” he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier and his groans louder, fucking you faster but not as deep as he sought his own release while his name fell off your lips over and over again. “y/n, ah fuck, so good, I’m gonna cum so hard… Gonna fill you up so good, so full…” he moaned when after one, two, three more deep thrusts he spilled in you, painting your walls in white and making you moan at the feeling, your name falling off his lips on whimpers when his arms gave out and fell on top of you.

The two were a goddamn mess, all sticky and sweaty, you whimpered when he kissed you once again, this kiss being sloppier and more lazy, sweet. A little gasp left your lips when his fingers tightened around your necklace and pulled, stealing it from your neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” he smirked, instead taking his own off his neck, the one with his red pick dangling, and pulling it over your head. “Since from now on you’d be on your knees for me, hm?” you nodded, sighing when his lips where back to yours, hissing a little bit when he pulled out of you, cum dripping down your thighs onto the wet sheets as he put on your own necklace, the cross shining under your lamp’s light. “You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

thanks to everyone who comments, likes and reblogs, it really helps this blog to reach more and more people!!! hope y’all liked this post! &lt;3

also, thanks for the 400 followers! y’all are the best!!!!

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader

[chryblossomjjk]

bts fic recommendations | 01.25.23

→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs

scent of eager suds - @rkivian (knj x reader | smut, angst, pwp, fluff)

summary: you missed each other, too fucking much. but your head had stayed down in futile hopes of remaining stubborn, forgetting that there is a wedding ring on that tricksy little finger of his for a reason.

so..... genuinely convinced you are the reincarnate of shakespeare babe bc like:

"He would spend a considerably scant amount of time on such a task, yet fulfil it so thoroughly that the constant aching between your legs seemed more equitable than you would like it to be."

LOOK WHAT YOU DO WITH WORDS!!! like everything is so precise. i can tell there's so much thought put into every single word of this piece and woah.. the writing is fucking stellar, seriously. like just the words you use throughout this displays how the reader feels about being vulnerable with joonie: cruel, vengeful, venomous. u put pwp but like you characterized the fuck out of this reader and it's so good...

also... this is thee kim namjoon. like as someone who is v much similar to the reader and self sabotages relationships, ppl who love you enough to recognize that trait and do their best to prove u wrong

AND YOU DID THAT ALL THROUGHOUT THE FLITHIEST NASTIEST SEXIEST SMUT EVER PLS HE'S SO HOT LIKE HE TRULY JUST WANTS TO MAKE HER FEEL GOOD INSIDE AND OUT AND IM GATEKEEPING HIM!!!! this was so so so beautiful and thank you for sharing with plebeians like me :') &lt;3

the one where jin is drunk off his face and you get friend-zoned - @indgio (ksj x reader | fluff, crack)

saf everything you write just comforts my soul. it's missing jin hours around these parts and this is exactly want i needed. i don't know how to explain it but this gives me run episode vibes? like... this is legit kim seokjin. I COULD TOTALLY PICTURE HIM DOING SOME SHIT LIKE THIS LMAO WHAT A SWEET BABY!

also love this oc fr. like from the opening paragraph i could already tell she's the most adorable, most precious being, and you proved it throughout the rest :') <3 taking care of ur drunk partner trope will never not get me and you did it so splendidly ugh will definitely be coming back to this when im sad and 3am and missing my seokjin :'( thanks for this ily <3

"tell me more about this girlfriend of yours."

but jin looks at you with a frown, as he downs the water. "no. get your own."

^also for whatever reason this took me tf out lmao

the one where jungkook will always protect you, even from the fictional - @indgio (jjk x reader | fluff, humor)

bby istg your writing is so... refreshing? like i always think i need these super crazy, convoluted, heavy plots for my fics to be good, but your writing is proof that doesn't have to be the case. your writing is so effortless, yet so beautiful. like once again, genuine comfort content that i don't see too much of anymore. going through your masterlist has really inspired me to take a new avenue, because your fics are just so fucking addicting. i just love the slice of life vibes so much uGh okay enough nutting over u and onto the fic sehfbjsehbdhwb

pov ur saf in my brain BC THE AMOUNT OF TIMES IVE DAYDREAMED ABOUT THIS EXACT SCENARIO IS MENTAL ILLNESS (was just picturing binge watching AOT w him :'))

this jungkook is such a golden retriever ass boyfriend my heart can't take it. the banter ?? the protectiveness ?? THE BITING THE EAR ??? naur im in love it's settled. adding him to the list of fav jungkook portrayals on tumby. will be thinking about him when im bored in the back of my lecture tomorrow. thank you for daydream fuel &lt;3

stfu yes it's wednesday get off my back >:'( i posted this early last week and was just trying to even the timing out that's all... im lying. anyways, love u lmao

#reviewsday #kikirecs #bts #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fic recs #jungkook fic #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon smut

[poisonedprose]

Hi!

I recently found your blog and I have to say that I really love it.

It's impressive to me the way you manage to capture the words in the stories you've created, I really would love to have the skill you have but I suck at writing xd.

I also checked on your profile that you have open requests, I wanted to request a Su Hyeok story from "All of us Are Dead", since I saw the character I was literally crushed and to my surprise there isn't much material about him here on Tumblr, it could be something romantic when they are on the rooftop of the school after escaping the music room and Su-Hyeok wants to talk to Y/N and ends up proposing, it's a scenario I've had in my mind for a while and I would really look forward to you writing it.

Obviously no pressure or anything like that, take as much time as you need, I hope you're well and thank you for the good time I have reading what you write. ❤️❤️

₊˚✧ marry had a little lamb

su-hyeok lee x gn!reader

warnings: none that i can think of

masterlist

AN: youre so sweet :(( it really means so much to me so i hope you like this ! ily /p (and im so sorry for such a long wait! i wasn't feeling very well this week but i hope the wait was worth it)&lt;;3

You were still trying to catch your breath when Su-hyeok pulled you to the side. "Are you okay?" He asked with concern written all over his face. "Yeah, I mean, I think so." You smiled to try and ease his worries. His eyes quickly scanned over your body to make sure there were no visible bite marks.

"I'm fine, I promise." You take his face in your hands, your eyes meeting each other's gaze. He nodded, but he still scanned every last inch of you that was visible to him. "Sorry, sorry. I just.." He trailed off, his mind racing and his eyes wandering to the group who seemed to just be standing around. He turned back to you, a glimmering look in his eyes.

You looked up at him. "You just.." You encourage him, trying to get to the very center of his mind. He licked his lips before reaching his hand into his back pocket. You cock your head slightly, confused at to what he could possibly be reaching into his pocket for. He glances at the group one more time before pulling a little black box out of his pocket.

"I know this probably isn't the best place to do this and I don't really have anything to say planned but I just really really love you, Y/N. And when we get out of all this I want to be your husband." He opened the box, revealing a ring inside. You were shocked, your words running dry. You examined the ring in the box, looking back up at Su-hyeok with visible shock.

Even in these horrid times, he still finds a way to make a smile creep onto your face. "Oh, my god." You gasp quietly, mostly to yourself. "Whaddya say? Wanna be stuck with me forever?" He smiled and you couldn't say no. "Yes, a thousand times, yes!" He smiles at your responses and takes the ring out of the box and places it on your finger. You take a second to admire the ring before wrapping Su-hyeok in your arms.

You laughed in your head at his choice of place and time but it made it even more special in it's own sick way. "I love you." You whispered in his ear and he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of joy that filled his chest when the words left your tongue. "I love you." He returned the phrase, leaving a kiss on your temple. "What are you guys doing over there?" Dae-su calls out forcing you both to break the hug. You can't help but giggle at the annoyed look on Su-hyeok's face.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎┊ㅤㅤ 🌾 ㅤㅤ ﾟㅤㅤ ┊

#! ☣ ₊˚✧ aouad . #all of us are dead #all of us are dead x reader #lee suhyeok #suhyeok x reader #lee suhyeok x reader #lee suhyeok fluff

[angelsdevils]

Oooo Sugar daddy Kokonoi NSFW!

Yay! The first ask for Thanks & Giving Event! Woohoo, this one was fun to write. I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think &lt;;3

CONTENT WARNING: NSFW, Small Age gap, Sugar baby - Sugar Daddy dynamics, exhibitionism, cock warming in public, daddy kink, sex in public, some degradation, oral(m!receiving), consensual filming

Word Count: 1.7K

Taglist: @thisbicc @galactict3a @chuuberrysworld @sattosugu @penguinlovestowrite @6-022-10-23 @tobycisnt @k3rrpii @bontensbabygirl @ddeadcalm @smkandfire @artemis1862 @obeymesimp11 @oikawascuties @pinksilk @leilalago

You walked into the club, music blaring and colorful lights shining everywhere. This wasn’t your type of scene, but your boyfriend and Sugar Daddy alike convinced you to come out. So here you were wearing a skin-tight dress, and heels that he bought for you. You made sure to buy it in his favorite color. You looked around before going up to the bouncer, he looked at you and instantly knew who you were. He took you to the VIP section and you walked in once he lifted the rope. Most girls were envious of you glaring, as you sat on Kokonoi’s lap. He didn’t allow you to sit anywhere else since his lap was your throne. He placed a small kiss on your cheek and grinned as he buried his face into your neck.

“You look as beautiful as always, (Y/N).” Ran said with a wink and you smiled.

“Thank you, I don’t think I could ever keep up with these expensive clothes.”

“Good thing you don’t have to, never have to go in your wallet Princess. But it’s not the clothes that make you so breathtaking. Now tell me how was your day?”  Kokonoi mumbled and tightened his arms around your waist. You let a small laugh out as you turned your head and he slammed his lips on yours. He parted slightly and he looked at Ran. 

“The landlord is still bothering me which I don’t know why. All I do is go to school, work and hang out with you. I come home and sleep. I barely cook at home, unless you are away” 

“Tsk, I will deal with him. Don’t worry about it, other than that anyone else is bothering you?”

“Nope, I did get my nails done…” you said and showed him your fresh manicure. He held your hand up to the light and grinned. They were done in his favorite colors, but what made it even more special was the ring he bought you sitting pretty on your ring finger.

“You haven’t taken the ring off?”

“Why would I? You gave it to me, and it’s way too pretty to remove it.” You said nuzzling his neck and he sighed before glancing at Ran. 

“Ran, do you think you can make Princess’s drink? You know I don’t trust anyone else to do it. I will wire the normal amount to your bank account.”

“Hey, I won’t complain. The usual pretty?” 

“Yes, that’s fine. You don’t have to, I don’t mind if someone else makes it.”

“Nope.” Ran and Kokonoi both said in unison and you blinked surprised.

“I only trust Ran.”

“He pays me a hefty amount to make you the best drinks,” Ran winked and left the VIP area. You looked over at Kokonoi who flashed you a heavy smirk.

“You know, you don’t have to spend that much on me.” 

“My girl only gets the best. She drinks whatever I drink, and never has to go into her wallet for anything. Also, I would rather have someone I trust to make it because I don’t want anyone to spike your drink.” He said, and you cupped his cheeks and pressed a small kiss to his lips again. He pulled away and grinned at you before stroking your cheeks.

“So, how about you cock warm me before Ran comes back.”

“Right now? In front of everyone?” You asked with a blush he nodded and you looked around before at him. He gave you an encouraging nod and you took a deep breath. You stood up before pushing your panties to the side. You slowly started to lower yourself on top of him, and you had to bite back a moan. 

“Shit Princess, so tight like always.”    

He always filled you so well, and the stretch was delicious. The colorful lights and the music all hid the moans that managed to escape your lips. Once he was all the way in and you were flushed against his body, he fixed your skirt.

“That’s my good girl. Now don’t move, if you do I may end up giving these people a real show.” 

“Daddy~”

“What? Are you telling me you wouldn’t like yourself being on display for everyone to see?” He asked in a teasing tone. You hid your face with your hands and he smirks just as Ran came back and handed you a drink.

“There you go pretty~,” he said. You took it with a small thanks and took a small sip. Kokonoi leaned close to your ear and whispered.

“Maybe even give Ran a show, he would love it.” You tensed up to the point that Ran was able to see. It didn’t take a rocket scientist as to what was going on and Ran couldn’t let this slip.

“Wow, (Y/N), I am surprised you let Kokonoi convince you to do something like this in public. Your head whipped to him, and he had a wide smirk on his face.

“How did you-”

“Your blushing face and how stiff you got when I came back.”

“Since he knows, might as well give him a show right princess?”

“Daddy, other people will see.” 

“So? This is Ran’s club, and as long as he is getting a show no one can say anything right Ran?”

“Of course, I won’t touch, just watch.” He winked and you gulped slightly.

Kokonoi thrust his hips upward causing you to gasp and lean your head back from the movement. He grinned and gripped your waist.

“Be a good girl and do as I say, and I will buy that new car you said you wanted. In a pretty (favorite color), how does that sound?” Kokonoi asked as he grind against your ass, moving your hips against him. He didn’t expect an answer since you were already starting to lose your mind at the feeling of him. 

He touched so many spots, with just a roll of his hips. Your breath hitched and you whimpered as your head leaned against his shoulder.

“Shit, she is so pretty,” Ran breathed. Kokonoi chuckled as he spread your legs, and lifted your dress over your chest. You whimpered as you tried to keep your eyes open. You could feel eyes on you, more than just one pair. But you couldn’t point out who was staring because it wasn’t long before Kokonoi had you bent over the table and started to pound your cunt. 

“You are getting so wet princess, you are slut. You enjoy being the center of attention, don’t you?” Kokonoi growled in your ear, and you let out a cry as he hit that place inside you having your cream around him. 

“Who do you belong to?”

“I-I belong to you..”

“What?”

“I belong to you Daddy~ more, harder…” 

Your brain had been reduced to not being able to think as Koko filled you. He rubbed his hand along your back before holding your hips tightly. He hissed slightly and leaned down and bit down on your neck, leaving a hickey. 

Kokonoi’s pace was relentless, and when you managed to gather the strength to look ahead. You saw a few guys were watching in shock, with visible hard-ons in their pants. When you met their eyes, you couldn’t even warn Koko before cumming hard. You let out a loud moan and you heard both Koko and Ran curse Ran because it was hot. Koko because the sudden tightness had him filling you up completely. He pulled out and adjusted your panties and dress and you slid to your knees out of breath. You were sweating, and panting as you laid your head on the table. 

“Need a break, princess?” He asked stroking your hair but you shook your head. You turned your head and took his cock into your mouth. The sudden warmth had him gripping your hair tightly and he grunted slightly. 

“Hey Koko, if I pay you can I record?” Ran asked and Kokonoi smirked and you looked up at him nodding your head to encourage Kokonoi to take the deal.

“She says yes, so feel free. You know I charge a hefty price though.” 

“Don’t care,” Ran mumbled. He pulled his phone out and started to record you, but made sure he stood in the way so no one else could do it as well. He respected you enough to at least shield you from others’ eyes. 

Kokonoi started to thrust into your mouth at a fast pace, triggering your gag reflex. You choked on him, as he gripped your hair tighter and pushed your face so it was flush against his pelvis.

You whimpered as tears fell down your face, and drool dripped down your chin. Your freshly manicured nails gripped onto Koko’s thighs, as you tried to ground yourself. You left crescent indents into his thighs and he cursed as rocked his hips back.

“My cute little slut. Remind me to take you shopping tomorrow for rewards, shit gonna cum…” Koko grunted, his cum came out in large spurts and you squeezed your eyes. His cum mixed with your own was going to be on your taste buds for a while but you didn’t care.

Once Koko pulled you away, you gave his sensitive cock, kitten licks to clean up the mess. Once you and Koko caught your breaths, he helped you up and you felt his cum drip down your thighs. He kissed you passionately, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

He sat back down on the couch, pulling you onto his lap and you shuddered slightly.

“Koko, I am a mess. I will get you dirty.”

“So what, it’s clothes. I can buy new ones, make a mess of or on me, I don’t care.” 

You buried your face into his neck and placed several kisses on his neck. He tightened his arms around you and you looked up at him. 

“Did you mean it, you were going to buy me a new car in (favorite color)?” You couldn’t help but ask, and he hummed.

“When have I ever not meant what I said? Also, you can move in with me if you want a princess. Easier to take care of you.”

“I asked for a car, not to move out of my apartment.” You said, rolling your eyes with a smile.

“Yeah, I know. But why stay in a rundown apartment where the landlord is an ass when you can stay with your daddy?”

You couldn’t fight the smile and looked up at him before nodding your head.

“You are right, I guess I can move in with you.” 

“Good girl…” 

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

#thanks & giving event #kokonoi hajime #kokonoi x reader #lemon #sugar daddy kokonoi #age gapish #tokyo revengers #TR #TR Kokonoi #Tokyo Revengers Kokonoi

[yeslieutenant]

Prologue

A/N: Couple things to start with. I am hopping on the "rewrite the game with a reader in there too" bandwagon. Y/N stands for your name, and Y/N/N is your nickname. I have no clue what to call this story so for right now it's just "House of Ashes Rewrite". If anyone has any suggestions, I would love to hear them! Lastly, this fic took me 2 weeks and 3 rewrites, so I hope this turns out well and that you guys enjoy it!

Series Warnings: Smut (Female reader, p in v smut), lots of flirting, violence (vampires, enemy fighting, etc), there may end up being mentions of past trauma, not 100% sure what that will be yet. (I will update this as soon as I figure that out) Character death.

Chapter Warnings: Light drinking, SMUT, LOTS of flirting, and Jason being a sweetheart. (Also sexy as hell, but that's a given when it comes to our lovely LT)

Word Count: 5091

The Iraqi sun shone down on my skin, the wind from the helicopter whipping past me, causing my hair to all but slap me in the face. ‘I’ll need to ask Rachel for a ponytail.’ The helicopter switches off and the wind immediately begins to die down. My eyes land on Rachel, her brown hair contained in a tight bun. She steps through the doorway, a small smile appearing on her pink lips.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N!” She calls out, her hand coming up to cup around her mouth, making her words slightly audible over the blades. I step closer, eager to get away from the damned helicopter. My feet are somewhat wobbly from the ride still, but I’m grateful to be back on solid ground. I stick my hand out, unsure where we stand after everything with Eric. Clearly, we are alright, as she dismisses my hand instead choosing to pulling my frame into a crushing hug.

“Likewise, Rach,” I yell, and she pulls back from the hug, her hands still resting on my upper arms. “You seem to be doing alright for yourself, Commanding Officer Rachel King,” I continue, the teasing remark spilling out, followed by a light chuckle. She shrugs humbly, but I know she’s proud. She turns to walk inside, gesturing for me to follow, and I pick up the pace behind her. As soon as we are out of the wind, she speaks again.

“Yeah, you could say that. Listen, I know you aren’t military, but I seriously appreciate you stepping in to do this.” The building is slightly cooler, being shaded from the hot sun, but I will definitely need to switch into that tank top in my bag.

“I appreciate the thanks, but we both know Eric only signed off on this so I can get used to the team.” At Eric’s name, Rachel tenses up, her feet faltering.

“He found something?” She asks. Guess things are still rough between them.

“I wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. Said they need to verify everything before sending in force recon. I have a letter from him if you wanna see-”

“I believe you.” She cuts me off with a wave of her hand. A small gesture, but it was enough to see that her ring finger is decidedly bare. ‘Really rough then.’ Her boots echo through the halls, confident and strong as I follow. I feel plenty of eyes land on me, my pace quickening to keep up. These men and women know I’m not one of them. The inhaler in my bag disqualifies me from serving my country the way they have vowed to do. And I’m intruding on them. An unarmed civilian on their base. I am knocked out of my own thoughts when Rachel speaks again. “Just a fair warning, a couple of the guys aren’t happy our pseudo-medic is a civie. If they try to give you hell, just-”

“I think I’ll manage, Rachel.” I know how to talk to douchebags. We enter a giant room. Its rounded top has sunlight filtering through it, and it’s lined with balconies. The ground floor is littered with tables and equipment, their surfaces covered with fancy tech and papers. There is a screen near the backside, and I see several men gathered around it, resting on the tables, their voices just loud enough to hear over the bustle of the area and the music steadily thumping out of a radio at one of the soldier’s feet.

“Is this guy even qualified? Or are we just getting some chump and this’ll be his first day on the job?” His voice is coarse, and while his words are justified, I don’t stop myself when I speak, catching them all off guard.

“I have 2 degrees, one in nursing, the other in psychology with an emphasis on PTSD. I have done 6 different training programs on pretty much any type of injury you could get from a WMD, and I was an ER nurse in Detroit for a year. So I can assure you, I’m qualified.” Their eyes follow me as I trail behind Rachel, and she smiles at my outburst.

“King, you didn’t tell us the new nurse is a chick.” The voice speaks again, and I lock eyes with its source. A marine, dressed in a standard-issue tank top and 3-color desert fatigue pants. His skin is olive, and his dark hair is cropped short. I take notice of the bulldog tattoo on his left arm as well.

“Does it matter?” I say, crossing my arms across my chest.

“Nope. Just happy to have some new meat on base.” His smile is sly and borderline perverted, and I immediately know I’ll need to watch my words around him.

“That’s enough, Corporal Merwin.” Rachel pipes up, effectively shutting down his next comment would have been. He recovers fast though, new words already leaving his lips.

“The little lady can call me Nathan if she likes. And what is your name?”

“I’m Y/N King.” The air thickens immediately. They are all wondering the same thing. ‘King.’

“Are you two related?” Another man asks. I find the face quickly. He’s dark-skinned, his equally dark eyes shaded by a boonie hat.

“Rachel is my sister-in-law.” I wait for the comments and questions to leave the marine’s mouths, but to my surprise, they never do.

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Ms. King.” The man sticks his hand out to shake and I take it gratefully. “Sargent Nicolas Kay, but my friends call me Nick.”

“I’m assuming that was an invitation to call you Nick?” I ask, my hand still locked in his. He chuckles and nods as I release his hand. “Nice to meet you as well, and please, just Y/N. Ms. King was my mother.” Rachel seems pleased that at least one of the marines had manners before she begins formal introductions.

“Well, Y/N, you met Nick. Mr. Loud Mouth over there is Corporal Merwin. Glasses next to him is Lance Corporal Joseph Gomez.” I find the man in question when he speaks up.

“Joey. Call me Joey.” His brown eyes don’t stay on mine for long, instead favoring the floor beneath my feet. ‘He’s shy.’

“And to Nick’s left is our 1st Lieutenant. Jason Kolchek.” ‘I know that name.’ I think before I lock eyes with his brown ones. He looks almost the same as he did 2 months ago, although his stubble is a bit more prominent now. He’s clad in camo fatigues and a blue tee-shirt instead of jeans like the last time I saw him, but it’s definitely him. Rachel is speaking beside me, probably describing my duties and schedules but all I can think about is him. The way he moved… the way he smiled… The way he moaned… ‘This is gonna be real awkward, considering the number of times I’ve had sex with him.’

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

2 Months Ago

The bass thumps, sending waves through my bones as people bump and nudge into me from all sides as I force my way toward my friends. Well, friends is not the right word. Fellow nurses I just met is a better word. The bar is loud and crowded, and the longer I sit here, the more overwhelmed I become. The song switches, and for the first time in an hour, I recognize it. A giggle rips from the mouth of a girl to my right and she roughly backs up, slamming into me. My shoulder collides with someone’s spine, and I hear a grunt from the victim of my accidental assault.

“I am so sorry,” I apologize as I right myself, turning to the person. I drop my head in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, ma’am.” I look up as a hand firmly but gently lands on my shoulder. He looks down at me and my jaw all but hits the floor. He’s got a gray cap on, but I can see the dark brown hair poking out from underneath it, and the brim thankfully doesn’t cover up his chocolate brown eyes. He’s got a light dusting of stubble across his cheeks  and around his mouth. His pink lips are thin, but my mind immediately wanders to what it would feel like to kiss them. He chuckles lightly, probably at my expense, and I vaguely wonder if he can read my mind. Small dimples appear at one corner of his lips in a way that causes my heart to beat so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it over the bass surrounding us. Those intoxicating lips move, forming words I assume, but I can’t hear anything over the pounding of my heart in my ears. All at once, I come back to reality. The alcohol must be kicking in. Or maybe I’m just drunk off of him.

“What?” I hear myself ask.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” God, he probably thinks I’m trashed. His voice swoops rhythmically, the words drawled out, smooth as honey.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?” I ask, remembering that my shoulder slammed into his spine.

“I’ll be alright, ma’am.” He gives me a half-smile and nods before moving back to his seat.

“Wait!” He stops as my hand lands on his bicep, the ink standing out against my fingers. It looks like an eagle. “Can I buy you a drink? You saved me from eating shit.”

“You don’t have to do that, ma’am.” He smiles, a real, full smile, and I swear I almost lose consciousness.

“I want to. Please, I insist.” Truthfully, I just wanna keep talking to him.

“Alright. If you insist.” He finally agrees and goes back to his seat at the bar. I stand next to his chair and gesture to the bartender.

“His next one is on my tab.” She nods and gestures to my drink.

“Want another one, hon?”

“Sure! Thanks!”

“Hers is going on my tab.” Both of us immediately turn to tattoo man in surprise and he laughs at our expressions.

“You said you were gonna buy mine. Never said I couldn’t buy yours too.” The shit-eating grin plastered to his face shows off his adorable dimples and I am surprised there aren’t visible hearts in my eyes.

“Mine was a thank you!” I defend, a laugh bubbling up in my throat.

“So was mine, ma’am.”

“Okay, what’s with the ‘ma’am’s?” I ask as the bartender sets our new drinks in front of us.

“Just the way I was raised. If you want me to call you something else, you gotta tell me your name.” He says, his smile poking over the rim of his beer bottle.

“Y/N. And yours? Or would you prefer Sir for the rest of the night?” As soon as the words leave my lips, I realize how flirty that sounds. I definitely don’t take it back through.

“Jason. Jason Kolchek.” He sticks his hand out and I reach out to shake. “Call me Sir and we won’t end the night at this bar.” He mumbles under his breath, and while I definitely heard it over the thumping of the music, I play dumb.

“What was that Jason?” The innocence dripping off my voice might be a bit of overkill.

“Nothing. I asked what you were doing here. You don’t exactly sound like you are from the area.” He covers and a light pink blush dusts across his cheeks.

“I was in town for a nursing training program. My buddy from the program convinced me to come out tonight. What about you? Regular at this bar?” No need to tell him that the training program was for injuries received from WMDs.

“Used to be. I’m on leave.”

“Oh, you’re military?”

“Marine force recon.”

“Impressive.” I say. I would say more, but I don’t know if its disrespectful to ask his rank or something similar. Growing up with a father and brother in the air force, you see plenty, but you never learn the etiquette behind talking to other branches.

“You wanna ask me something. Gonna ask if I’ve ever shot anyone?” The question is harmless, and actually makes me giggle a bit. Probably the most common question he gets from women.

“Obviously you have. I’m not an idiot. I was gonna ask what your rank is, but couldn’t figure out how to do it politely.” I stutter out, a shrug rolling off my shoulders.

“I’m a 1st Lieutenant. You really weren’t gonna ask?” He seems surprised. I roll my eyes.

“My dad and brother are both air force. I’ve had enough experience with military to know that that is one of the dumbest questions you could ask someone.”

“Well it’s appreciated.” I hear one of my friends call my name, and I turn to see them watching me like hawks, one of the girls raising a thumb with a questioning look gracing her features. I glance back at Jason. “You’re friends waiting for you?” Jason asks, his features almost sad. I look back and her and give her a thumbs up with a shy smile. She immediately starts nodding and smiling, and then throws me a wink. She might as well have yelled ‘get it girl’ across the bar.

“I’m sure they’ll survive dancing without me. You look like you could use the company, marine.”

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

We have been talking for at least an hour. He’s smart, funny, and that southern charm is more than prominent in his personality. He grew up here in Kentucky with his mom, dad, older sister Jamie, and little brother Johnathan. His dad died overseas when he was 16. He enlisted in the marine corps shortly after the towers were hit. Jason looked like he wanted to say more, but decided against it, and I decided not to press the issue. He didn’t exactly want to take leave, but was told by his CO that he needed to. Poor timing too, since his mom and siblings were all out of town on vacation. So he would be alone all week.

It was starting to get late, and I had a choice to make as my friends started heading toward the exit, their eyes landing on me, waiting. I look at Jason.

“Do you wanna get out of here? I’m not saying anything inappropriate has to happen, or it can, if you want, I just, the bar is closing soon and I just am enjoying talking to you and I just, I- I- Well I don’t really know what I’m asking honestly.” My cheeks are the same color as a tomato by the time I finish the sentence. His eyes light up with the laugh he lets out. His dimples reappear and I’m finding it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever seen.

“Well, I would love to spend more time with you, but the real question is, my place or yours?”

We ended up at his hotel room. He unlocks the door with ease, before holding the door to allow me to step inside. Jason flicks the light on beside the door and I glance around. His bag is resting near the couch, but besides that, it looks like a regular hotel room, although it still has its clean scent and that untouched feeling.

“Want me to make some coffee? I don’t have a whole lot else in here right now.” He says, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. His nervous tick.

“Sure.” He kicks his boots off and strides into the attached kitchen.

“You can make yourself comfortable!” He calls out from the kitchen, and I toe my sneakers off. The air quickly begins to smell like coffee grounds.

“So you said you were in town for a training program. What was the training on?” He asks from the kitchen.

“Um, it was about dealing with injuries received from a couple of different types of WMDs.” I hear a cup fall, the plastic bouncing off the tiled floor and a mumbled ‘fuck’.

“You working with the military then?”

“No. Not yet anyways. My brother wanted me to go through it, since his project he’s working on right now has to do with WMDs.”

Jason walks out, two steaming cups in his hands. He carefully passes one over to me, and I take it gratefully.

“I’m assuming said project is classified.”

“Yeah, but I really don’t know anything other than its a thermal tech of some kind. So it’s classified for me too, if that makes you feel better.” We sit down on the couch, our knees bumping together.

“Honestly doll, it’s none of my business anyway.” Jason says, taking a sip and immediately regretting it. He pulls back, breathing quickly into his mouth in an attempt to cool the obviously burned tongue he just received. He glances up to find me giggling at him. “It’s hot,” is all he says, reaching up to rub the back of his neck again. I set my mug down on the table and scoot in closer to him.

“Want me to kiss it better, marine?” Jason’s brown eyes immediately widen, before what must be curiosity gets the better of him.

“That may be the only way to fix it, ma’am.” My hands find his knees as I lean it, planting my lips on his. He tastes like the coffee that just burned his mouth, and the slightly minty tang makes me wonder when he had gum or a mint. His hand cups my jaw as he attempts to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding gently along my lips, asking for entrance.

I separate our lips and Jason looks at me with confusion.

“How does it feel now?” I ask, a teasing chuckle coming out unprompted.

“Like I need more.” His hands slide up my legs over the jeans, and I feel a shiver run down my spine as he reattaches our lips. His fingers slide under my knee and pull so I’m resting on his lap. I can feel his callouses through the denim fabric as they slide up my thighs, latching onto my hips as he tugs til our hips are pressed flush together. It’s impossible for me to not feel his excitement through his jeans.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just excited to see me?” I mumble against his lips and he chuckles.

“Gun is still in my bag, darlin.” I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. I also wasn’t expecting him to stand, his hands firmly planted on my thighs, holding me up like I weigh nothing. “How about I take you somewhere more comfortable?” He says, his accent becoming more prominent as his voice drops. He walks toward what I assume is the bed with confidence, and before I know it, he drops me and leans over. His lips land on my neck and he nibbles and kisses the tender skin there, causing a gasp to escape me. My fingers slide under his hat to tangle my fingers in his surprisingly soft locks. I give them a gentle tug as his teeth nip the tender flesh between my neck and shoulder, and he groans at the sensation.

“I think you are wearing too much, Jase.” I gasp out as his teeth find that sweet spot again.

“I was about to say the same thing about you, doll.” His breath on my skin is hot and sends a spark straight to my core. His fingers tug at the hem of my tank top, raising it high enough that my stomach is exposed. I release his hair and raise my arms above my head, my eyes locked on his. The fabric comes up and as my face is exposed to the air again, I see Jason’s eyes glaze over as they skim over my exposed skin and my covered breasts. “You’re so gorgeous.” He says, awe laced in his words. The admiration is more than I am used to, the furious blush returning to my cheeks. His head drops down to pepper kisses and nips along the swell of my breasts as his hands wander to the clip on the back. He glances back up, silently asking for permission and I wordlessly nod. His deft fingers quickly release the garment and slide it off my arms, tossing it somewhere in the room before his lips land on my pebbled nipple. My fingers quickly find purchase in his soft brown locks again, tugging as a groan leaves my lips. His eyes flit up towards mine, and that damned smirk makes a reappearance as he begins to pepper my stomach with kisses and bites as he makes his way further south. His lips dance along the line of my jeans before I tug his mouth back towards mine.

“Someone’s eager.” He says, a light laugh slipping out of that gorgeous mouth of his.

“Take one look at you and tell me my eagerness isn’t justified.” I respond, laving his neck with butterfly kisses. He sighs, the air leaving his throat in a shaky breath.

“I could say the same thing about you, darlin.” He drawls, his voice dropping deeper and deeper every moment. I slip my hands down the front of his jeans, palming him. He groans, a gravely sound that goes straight to my core. I squeeze him in my hand before my wrist is in his grip and his mouth is back on mine. His hand on my wrist is short lived as his fingers deftly undo the button on my jeans, beginning to pull them down my legs until I am left in my panties. My head hits the back of the mattress in frustration as his frame looms over mine, that devilish smirk resting comfortably on that damn mouth of his.

“Something the matter, doll?”

“This feels a little unfair, don’t you think, marine?” My words come out breathier than I would like.

“You’re right. Let’s even shit up a bit, yeah?” Jason flexes as his hand comes up, pulling the cap from his hat and tossing it so it lands next to me on the bed. I watch it fall, but by the time my eyes drift back to his form, his grey shirt is sliding up, revealing his toned chest, dusted with dark hair. My eyes follow the trail that leads down to the button of his jeans, and his hands slide down his happy trail and deftly undo it. His voice rumbles out as my eyes find his again.

“See you something you like, sweetheart?”

“Keep calling me sweetheart, and maybe you’ll find out the answer to that.” I sit up as my fingers find the hem of the denim and pull. I press my nose to his abdomen as I cast my eyes up. His pupils are blown wide, so dark you can’t tell where the brown starts and the black ends. His fingers curl around my jaw again.

“How about I take those off?” Jason breathes out. I giggle as I lean back, my back landing on the soft duvet.

“About damn time, Jase.” His jeans are stripped off in seconds, and his hand rests next to my head as he leans in, planting his lips on mine again. His fingers slide under the line of my panties again, applying a light pressure to my clit, a gasp pouring from my lips into his. He smiles into the kiss, his fingers dipping into my heat before coming back up to twirl patterns onto those nerve endings again until I am clinging to his shoulders. Gasps and moans continue to pour into his mouth as he spins pleasure on me until that white hot sensation washes over me, and I cry out. My thighs quiver around his hips as he slows.

“Think you’re ready for me, doll?” His whisper is enough to cause the heat to rush back south, and I nod. Jason stands, thumbs hooking in his boxer briefs and pushing down. His cock springs free, standing at attention before he leans back over, his arm resting near my head as his other hand guides his cock to notch at my entrance. My legs wrap tightly around his waist, and we lock eyes. They search mine for any sign of hesitation and come up empty handed. I nod, my hands pulling his mouth to reconnect with mine as he presses in. His hand moves to grip at my waist as my head drops back, the groan tearing from my throat at the sensation. Jason stills for a moment, and I’m not sure if it’s to let me adjust or if he needs to do just that himself. We’re not so much as kissing, more like panting wantonly into each others mouths.

His hips retreat, and the friction causes me to cry out. He groans at the squeeze of my walls around him, my name spilling from his kiss swollen lips. He presses forward again, his rhythm picking up steadily until his hips slap against mine on each thrust. 

“Come for me, Y/N. Show me how you let go, doll.” His name spills from my lips, a fucked-out plea as his fingers come back to twirl around my clit, and I tighten around him again, his name falling out as if I had forgotten every other word in my vocabulary. That white hot pleasure courses through my veins again, and I vaguely register Jason press forward and still, his breath fanning over my shoulder as he supports his weight with his arms on either side of my head.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Jason’s voice pulls me from where I had zoned out. I look up at him through my lashes and nod, a small smile spreading out across my lips. His dimples reappear as he returns it with one of his own, then pulls himself from my entrance. We both groan at the feeling and he drops his body to my side, a chuckle audible in the sex soaked air.

“What’s so funny, marine?” I ask, already beginning to lose consciousness.

“That a gorgeous girl like you wanted a guy like me.”

“Jase, you doubt yourself. You’re kinda perfect.” I mumble out, my eyes slipping closed as I feel his arms around my waist, pulling me so close that I can smell his deep woodsy scent and I give in to sleep.

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

The sunlight that hits my eyes is the first thing to startle me awake, and then I quickly realize that room I am in is not my hotel room. I push myself up onto my arms and quickly realize I am also nude. I grip the sheets and pull them up to cover my chest. I reach over, my fingers skimming the other half of the bed, and find it empty. I stand and find my panties and slip them on, scanning the room for my jeans and tank top, only to come up empty. I swear they ended up on the floor last night. Jason. He’s not here?

The gray shirt the latter wore lies in a crumpled heap on the floor, but given my current state of undress, I decide it’s better than nothing, slipping it over my head. It smells like him, that deep woodsy scent that lulled me to sleep last night, and I can’t help but let the smell seep deeper into my memory. I step into the living area and hear him before I see him. He must be in the kitchen, his deep accented voice humming a song I can’t place, and it quickly turns to words. He has an amazing singing voice. After listening for a few lines, he turns and sees me.

“Whatcha doin there, doll?” I had a response to this question, but that response dies the moment I see him. Jason’s got nothing on but his tight-fitting boxer briefs, and I swear, I salivate looking at those abs again, thinking about last night all over.

I notice he’s still waiting for my answer and I giggle nervously.

“Well, I came out here looking for my clothes.”

“Yeah, I moved them so you didn’t try to creep out. They’re in here.” He says, a smirk on his features as he turns back to the stove. I walk towards him, my bare feet landing on the cold tile behind him.

“You moved my clothes so I couldn’t just leave? Isn’t that the point of a one-night stand?” I chuckle nervously.

“I mean, I figured what happened was a bit more than that. I am making you breakfast after all.” As I get closer, I smell eggs and what may be toast. Either that or I’m having a heart attack.

“That’s so sweet. Can I help?”

“It’s just eggs and toast, sweetheart. I think I can manage this much, fortunately.” The comment is made with a hint of sass, and I briefly wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.

“Not normally a cook, Jase?” I laugh.

“You called me that a few times last night. Jase.”

“Does it bother you?”

“No. Just never had anyone call me that.”

We fall into a comfortable silence as he finishes up, and he quickly places a plate full of food in front of me at the table.

“Coffee?”

“Sure.” As we eat, a casual conversation starts, and we end up laughing over breakfast. It all feels so… domestic. I never thought I would have this. I remind myself that I’m only here for a few more hours and he’s only here for a week. Then we’ll go on our separate ways and probably never see each other again.

“So, you don’t live here, where do you live?”

“Up north.”

“When do you head back there?”

“My flight leaves this afternoon, unfortunately,” I say, and wince. I don’t want to leave yet. “Unless you can find a good reason for me to stay.”

The look he gives me makes the butterflies in my stomach erupt like a volcano.

“I can think of a couple. I will pay for your flight home on one condition.”

“And what is that condition?”

“Stay here with me. You don’t have to, but I definitely wouldn’t mind having some company this week.”

I consider my options, knowing damn well I have nothing to go home to at the moment, other than a brother who will immediately put me back to work. I deserve a vacation too, right?

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Kolchek.”

Tags: @kawaiiwitch224 @yellowroseskolchek @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @buttermykolchek @katsufairies @kassiekolchek22

#house of ashes fanfic #house of ashes #jason kolchek #jason kolchek x reader

[eunoiaastralwings]

Hello *Pokes head round door after loud noise of falling out of your wall* don't ask why I have been in your walls.

Hi, Hey, how are you, I hope you are better now.

I spy your requests are open.

And Atm I really need some Fluff (I hate anons so much), I also Spy you have not written for Elladan yet, If you are comfortable enough to write for him and if it isn't to much of an ask, Here is my request:

Elladan pretending to be his brother Elrohir and the Reader accidentally confesses to him as they think he is Elrohir and is asking Elrohir for help how to request, Elladan tries to play it off by Elrohir walks around the corner with Arwen so then the Reader realizes it's Elladan so he just confesses back to them as he also really likes them.

Thank You Mellon :)

A leap with your heart

characters elladan x reader

fandom tolkien- the hobbit the lord of the rings

a/n @aeonianarchives mellon nin— always a joy to find you in my inbox! Oh Don't worry, am on your walls too *sips tea* — am better not fly back on track— definitely not covid again but i feel so dead and tired all the time:( — am sorry to hear that hun— I hope you like and makes you feels better! Ella is was fun to write :) - love you lots&lt;3

Elladan knew this was a ridiculous idea— he was about to back out of it, until you accidentally him by his brother's name.

He had planned to act as his brother— so he could get some closeness to you.

But he was about to turn around and run — then you— without looking fully at him calls him Elrohir.

He blinks once, then twice— but then quickly the planned reversed back in place.

Elladan quickly introduced himself as his twin brother.

"Y/N, m'lady/my lord"

"You look fine as the morning sun"

he complimented.

You giggled— and blushed— it pained Elladan because you thought you were receiving it from his brother.

He never had the courage to say that to you before— but it was too late to back out now— wasn't it?

Elladan held in a deep sigh— then turned to you again.

"Would you be interested in a walk, Y/N?"

He asked — cautiously— gesturing and asking like his brother.

Elladan was wilder and louder than his twin— he needed to tone himself down and act patiently.

But it was inching him inside.

"It would be my own honor, Elrohir— mellon nin."

The both of you walked along the gardens of Rivendell— complimenting Arwen's gardening skills.

You pointed to the flowers you liked — and Elladan pointed to the ones he thought his brother would like.

"Imladris is beautiful— in all seasons."

You smiled— it was wondrous.

"If you love Imladris— you should see the forests Elr-Elladan and I travel too— so much more wonder there too."

He almost slipped up — Elladan mentally kicked himself for it.

"That's a lovely invite— thank you. . ."

You smiled and looked down.

Elladan frowned.

"Is everything alright?"

Had he upseted you?

"Yes— but. . . is your bother around? — Elladan. . . ?"

Elladan's heart dropped— if only he could reveal himself.

"He should be around here somewhere. . .why?"

You bit your lip— and picked at your fingers.

Should you tell your friend?— How you had fallen for his twin brother— you were in love with his wildness and the mysterious gleam in his eyes.

"I. . . I think am in love with him. . . "

Elladan stopped breathing for a second — you what?

"M'lady/My lord?"

You took a deep breath again.

"No— I don't think. . . I know it. . .I do love him, Elrohir. . ."

You desperately looked at him.

"I don't know how tell him that. . . — or know if he feels the same?"

You sighed and hugged your frame— you felt uncomfortable suddenly.

Elladan's mind (and heart) was racing— what was he supposed to say now?

He needed react like his brother— before this while thing blew up in his face.

What would Elrohir say?

What would Elrohir say?

"Am sorry mellon nin-"

"My father always says— you have to take a leap with your heart. . .— then, you can find the half, that fits perfectly beside you."

Elladan cut you off — fondly remembering the words of his father.

They were words of one of Elrond's foster fathers— Maglor.

Maglor would sometimes teach them life lessons— love was one of them.

His uncle, Elros — had dropped the question of love on Maglor one day — as his father said and Maglor replied with the memories of his wife in Valinor.

"A leap with my heart?"

You questioned.

"Yes— if you don't. . . you would never know how the other person feels— and if they don't feel the sae— then they aren't the one for you."

Elladan felt like a hypocrite— he was saying this but doing the opposite.

He wanted to tell you — many times — but he always ran away like a coward.

"I hope he is the one. . ."

Meleth nin. . . That I am.

Elladan didn't know what to do— should he reveal himself?

He held in another sigh— and shut his eyes.

But the sound of his brother and baby sister Arwen walking around the other hedge — that made them fly open again.

Elladan lost all his breath as Arwen smiled brightly at him.

"Brother! Y/N! — Elrohir and I are orginaising the decorations for tomorrow's banquet— we were looking for you."

Arwen's words made you lose all the color in your face.

The real Elrohir seemed to have understood what happened — especially from the distress from his brother's face.

He quickly rushed away his baby sister — but gave a sharp glare to his twin.

You gulped — did she just? — She obviously wasn't lying— he knew her brothers like the back of her hand.

She knew them apart.

"Elladan?"

You gasped and turned around to him.

A look of shock and betrayal on your face.

Elladan sighed and ran a hand over his face— he let out a few curse words.

You knew for fact it was Elladan — only Elladan cursed when he was mad— or angry at himself.

You felt like crying — so embarrassed in yourself.

Was he pranking you? —But you knew Elladan, he wasn't like that. . .

So. . . What was this?

Tears sprang— and you quickly tried to make a run for it.

But Elladan wrapped his hand around your wrist — he pulled you back to him.

"My heart is yours. . ."

He said and placed your shaky hand over his heart.

"Le Melin, Y/N. . .— I was a fool— a hypocrite. . . I didn't know what else to do. . .— forgive me. . ."

"Ella. . . You made me feel like a fool. . ."

You voice almost broke — and it make him gulp.

"Am the real fool, meleth nin— I do not deserve after making you feel like that. . ."

You were about to intervene— but he continued.

"But am a selfish ellon, my dear. . ."

He held you close — wrapped a hand around your waist and rested his forehead against your forehead.

"now - that I know you feel the same way. . .I cannot let you go. . ."

He kissed your lips— without another word.

Your eyes widened — but you melted into the kiss.

He may have made a wrong move— but he apologized and promised to himself he would cherish and love you —for all of eternity.

"I love you too, Ella. . ."

"I know. . ."

He smirked.

You rolled your eyes but chuckled— his playfulness coming out — you loved it about him.

form for taglist

tara's taglist: @mslizziesblog @wandererindreams @spidergirla5 @aeonianarchives

elves of imladris: @queenstarlight2

#elladan #elrohir #tolkien #elldan x reader #answered #tarawrites #the hobbit #lotr #lotr x reader #elves of imladris #rivendell #rivendell elves #tolkien elves #elves #lord of the rings #middle earth #half elves #peredhel #imladris

[donotexterminateupgradepudding]

Black Sails meta - an excellent example of show, don’t tell.

Season two of Black Sails does an excellent job during the flashbacks to tell us where Captain Flint came from, his relationship to Miranda and of course, his intimate relationship with Thomas Hamilton.  Over the course of those first five episodes we get snippets of events that run in parallel with the current timeline and why Flint is so goddamn dedicated to doing crazy shit in the name of Nassau and pirates.

The first set of flashbacks are around the first meeting of Lord Thomas Hamilton and rising star in the Royal Navy, Lt. James McGraw.  In this entire sequence we see that McGraw is wearing black gloves while everyone else in the background and Thomas have bare hands.  The fact in this far shot that you can’t see his hands is the best indication of those black gloves.

Thomas is wearing one of the super fancy long wigs and we can see a ring on his right pinky finger as well on his bare hand.  In contrast, James has his hair tied back in a simple ponytail and he wears his officer’s uniform.

James takes the naive Lord on a field trip in their second meeting to point out issues with piracy, specifically around the Caribbean. I love how Flint is just like, “the pirate is Davey something or other” with such a dismissive attitude that these men can all be lumped into one defining group.

For this, Thomas Hamilton is no longer wearing the super fancy wig but has switched it out for a little less formal one.  It results in one of my favorite conversations from the entire series.  I didn’t capture it in these shots, but our stoic Lt. McGraw is still wearing his black gloves.

This conversation also adds to the solid INTJ personality of Flint - one can have great ideas but knows that most people are likely to fuck them up; this also is shown in season one as Flint made sure to have Gates as his quartermaster for what was clearly years since he’s absolute shit at office politics.

The main point of the flashbacks in the first episode of season two want to make it clear that Flint is pragmatic, blunt and distant with closed off body language. The second episode has another flashback where Thomas starts off with the creation myth from Genesis and adds in extra bits that everyone needs a partner.  This is in his office where he’s still wearing the white wig while seated at his desk while Flint stands before him formally.  The only thing which has changed for him is the fact his hands are now bare, but held behind him.

Flint is still cautious of the man as a cold rain falls outside.

This is the only scene with the two of them - the rest of the flashback is between Flint and the Admiral who is both his father figure and professional mentor.  We learn that some time has passed between the scene with Thomas and the one at the pub as when left alone, other officers try to gang up on Flint and bully him speaking poorly of the Hamiltons which unleashes has rage, which only his mentor can stop.  These conversations reveal additional information, James is on first name basis with Thomas, indicating he’s become closer than from the opening scene above and he’s close enough with both Thomas and Miranda that he feels obliged to defend their collective honor. Admiral Hennessy has a good read on McGraw.  He knows everyone has a sort of ‘primal emotion’ in himself but McGraw’s is one that is darker and wilder than most.  Granted, he admits it is likely why his mentee has been an excellent naval officer and moving through the ranks smoothly and effectively.  But the Admiral is also concerned how deep that darkness is and what it would make McGraw capable of. 

I’m sure that this conversation stuck in the back of Lt. McGraw’s head and reminded him that when pushed he could do very dark and effective things.

Episode three has two flashbacks, the first one continues the intellectual discussion about what to do about the ‘pirate problem’ and shows how comfortable James has become in the presence of the Hamiltons and them with him.  Thomas is now without any wig or jacket and James has his sleeves rolled up and he’s comfortably seated in the chair also wearing only his military waistcoat.  This is a huge jump from episode one where both men are dressed for their respective stations and roles.

The table has half drunk wineglasses, papers and books scattered about.  We even see an empty plate with the silverware neatly off to the side indicating that James had eaten a meal with Thomas while working.  More importantly, this is a direct contrast with episode two where Thomas is seated while James is standing.  Now, James is seated and controlling the conversation while Thomas tries to determine how to fix Nassau.

True to form, the issue is laid out plainly.  The difficulty with Nassau is it is in a hard place to govern indirectly.  The anti-pirate propaganda pamphlet they look at shows that the current governor has been corrupted by the pirates and it is very easy to do.

Thomas can only listen across the table as his friend explains that the entire governmental set up for a place like Nassau is doomed to fail, due to the inherent nature of men and that anyone with a reasonable amount of intelligence will do more for himself and fuck the government.

And with this Lt. James McGraw has laid out one part of the goals of the infamous Captain Flint and those he works with, and against in the current timeline of the series.  Their entire conversation, the elements around them show that these two men have grown close and are not only at ease with each other physically, but can speak very openly with each other.

Their serious conversation is broken by Miranda entering to make sure that they are still alive, apparently having worked in the office for several hours non-stop, hence the food eaten in the room and the wine to help lubricate their sticky brains. . .  What is clear is that the relationship between Thomas and Miranda is a good one.

The two of them have a fondness that may not be defined by unbridled passion but they love each other and support each other.  This is also when Miranda loans James Don Quixote to help him to understand Thomas better, which I mentioned in my previous meta about the role of books).

We then get a flashback where our stoic navy man is more than willing to open his door to his apartment without a shirt to be met with Miranda Hamilton.  He seems completely confused why she’s there as though he were expecting someone else.  Miranda explains that she got his address from the carriage driver and invites herself into his place since it is awkward standing in the hallway of the apartment building.  I’m more than willing to read between the lines that 1.) he was expecting Thomas to come to his door which is why he so willingly opened it and 2.) Thomas may have given the information to Miranda worried or concerned and wanted her to reassure him with things.  I think that by this point, James was already involved with Thomas, but that Thomas had been paying him visits to his small flat.

James is able to get his undershirt on but his entire body language is super awkward.  He’s not keen on the idea of going to visit some other members of the aristocracy in lieu of her actual husband.

He’s quite cheeky in his reply with a large smirk as he tries to dissuade her until she cuts him off to explain that he’s worried how it would look to the rest of civil society.  Though the amount of flirting between the two of them is just - wow - kind of adorable how cheeky it all is. They try to outwit each other while making smirks at each other.

Of course, Miranda won’t be defeated by his concern for appearances and she changes her argument to ask is he is happy.  And man - does this question cause his brain to come to a grinding halt.

I think that this argument is how Miranda is setting James up to agree with her and allow himself to experience what she calls happiness.  She is incredibly straightforward and makes it clear to him to not worry about all the rumors and that she loves her husband and it is obvious that they do love each other. 

The flashback concludes with them in the carriage and James admits that he told the carriage driver to take her back home.  Miranda tells him theory of the two types of men who make their life at sea 1.) those who out of sense of duty are willing to leave their identity behind to and 2.) those who find the loss of identity to be the attraction of the career.  James playfully asks her which of the two men he is and she replies that he is very good at managing how people perceive him.  With this skill he is able to get what he wants without anyone realizing he set everything into motion in the first place.  She tells him that he’s concerned about what people think he might be doing behind closed doors; as opposed to the actual acts that he is doing behind those closed doors.  He’s not a prude who doesn’t do things because of morality or propriety - he just wants to appear so and he does exactly what he wants in private. 

The two flirt a little more as he takes her hand in his and they kiss in the carriage.  However, Miranda is the one who makes the move to sit on him as the flashback ends, showing that she is the one driving the physical relationship between them.

He doesn’t have an issue per se with kissing her, but when they briefly pull back, Miranda is eager while he seems distant.  By this point in the show, we know that Miranda is a very sexual woman and she has a high libido.  No judgement - just fact. 

She is more than willing to meet those needs but it is also clear that it is still better to be involved with someone who has a good relationship with Thomas.  We already know from the first season that Captain Flint and Mrs. Barlow are still sleeping together, but it is entirely for her and out of habit.  I can’t help but think that there is a sort of guilt or need to sleep with her out of obligation to Thomas when he was alive or how he promised to take care of her.  Honestly, if I were him, I’d see the logic of sleeping with her; Miranda is intelligent, attractive, and fun. 

Even if you weren’t madly in love with her, she’d be a good fuck.  He still loves her, but not in the same way that he loves Thomas.  The two of them have ten years of hardship and suffering and their lives are incredibly intertwined, you can’t just sever than and not have it impact the two of them.

Episode four has the flashback when things start to go wrong in regard to Lord Hamilton’s plans to deal with Nassau.  Thomas calls James over in a rush because he wants him to talk him out of his plans.  I love the casual flirty reply that James gives him at first before realizing things are more serious.  He flippantly replies that they don’t have a problem and even laughs a little.

But oh no, this is more serious as Thomas states that he has grown close to him and trusts him deeply.  And that is when James begins to look concerned.  Again, James is seated in a chair with his sword as they go over the plan.  Until Thomas says he wants to pardon all the pirates and that look on James’ face of ‘oooohhh fuuuccckkk’ as they know that Lord Alfred Hamilton is coming over for dinner and they will have to discuss this with him.

Interestingly, Thomas is the one standing while again, James is seated trying to be the voice of reason, aware of the situation in Nassau, in Whitehall, in the Navy etc.

When he gives his advice both as a member of the navy and then as a friend.

His words cut Thomas to the core and we end with a scene where he looks like he’s about to cry looking at James.

This is followed by the awkward dinner scene where Thomas’ father begins to argue with him over the plan Nassau.  Miranda tries to speak up and is cut down ruthlessly by Lord Hamilton as he can’t help but remark on her sexual activities making the mood worse.  Honestly, I don’t know why this is such a big deal; countless members of the upper classes had all sorts of affairs and as long as heirs were produced it wasn’t a horrible scandal.  But I don’t know exactly why the writers took this direction. 

It all comes to a crashing halt when James explodes in a very polite fashion (for him) telling the Lord of the house to leave his own home as Thomas laughs at the situation.

To try to prevent the plan from failure before even reaching the floor for debate, Thomas, Miranda and James try to rally support from his intellectual salons (which were likely a delight for Flint even if he didn’t speak, just watching and thinking through everything).

Only one person is willing to assist, Peter Ashe, who finally is formally introduced to Lt. McGraw, though they must have seen each other in these various salons and other events.

Episode five has too many flashbacks that are interrupted in my personal opinion, but I guess they were going to the frantic pace that is set by the concurrent events.

First off, we learn that some time has passed since the flashback left off.  Thomas has been fighting for his political cause while James was away to see Nassau for himself.  This is reflected in his new facial hair and highlighted by Thomas’s comment that it has been three months but felt twice as long.

Okay, we get it, you really missed him Thomas and I’m sure the feelings are likewise - but James has no good news for you.

None of the news that our Lieutenant has is good for the cause.  The governor got in a fight with a pirate over money and it resulted in punishment - the governor’s wife and son were drug out into the street and killed but he was kept alive to spread the word.  Yet, despite all of this we learn that James remains dedicated to Thomas’s plan, even emboldened by what he saw he reveals to Miranda.

However, everyone’s emotions are roiling.  Even before James had returned, Miranda wanted to leave town to take the heat off of Thomas . . . and with their continued push to fight back at Alfred Hamilton, James also is naive about things.  He falls back on the idea that he can still do what he wants ‘behind closed doors’ because he thinks the truth itself is too much to risk being made public.  This is where he’s wrong - it is the very truth (well through a not quite well known source) that ruins his career and he and Miranda are forced to accept the affair story and leave London. 

The bitterest part is that Admiral Hennessy assigned James McGraw to this because of his pragmatic attitude; unfortunately, since McGraw has been ‘swept away’ by the silly ideas of Thomas Hamilton and worse likely seen as seduced by him intellectually and romantically, the Admiral berates him.  Honestly, it is the most heartbreaking scene in the flashback for me, since the Admiral never considers that James saw the logic and promise in the plan, thus throwing his full support behind it.  He is the most skeptical and realistic person and seeing Nassau in person hasn’t shaken him from the plan it only causes him to double down.  This is even more bittersweet and ironic in season three when Woodes Rogers shows up with a ton of pardons and tries to use a variation on the plan that Thomas and James had originally created in 1705. 

Only at the end of the episode do we have a return to the awkward dinner scene where Thomas seeks comfort and support in James at the dinner table as Miranda simply sits there as they begin to make out.  You damn well know that the two of them likely retired elsewhere for a bit before trying to rally more support.  Come on, there is no way that anything that James has started is going to stop until well, it is the full stopping point.  The man never does anything halfway.

Miranda returns the copy of Meditations to James as we finally learn it was gifted and dedicated to him by Thomas.  That Thomas did not want James to be ashamed of their relationship, but this is directed to a man who wanted to craft a careful image of himself before others.

Was he ashamed of things?  I honestly don’t know, it really could go either way.  All of his actions are for Thomas and his vision for Nassau in his mind.  We never hear the conversation he had with Miranda when they were told to leave, but it is clear that he convinced her to join him in Nassau as they fulfilled their role as the fallen Lady and her Naval lover.  Personally, I like the INTJ angle that James preferred total privacy in regard to his relationship.  It is clear that Thomas was someone he let into his inner world and thoughts and he might just be doing the classic ‘I don’t talk about my relationship ever.’ but very INTJ move.  How he truly felt about Thomas was for him and Thomas alone. I think more of his anger would stem from how their lives were ruined, his career destroyed, all punishments of ‘civil society’.  Obviously, the logical solution to this is to say ‘Fuck you England!  I’ll just go to Nassau and become a very successful pirate instead and use my power and influence to fix Nassau without England.’  Yeah  . . . I guess that’s an option most people would take a hard pass on, but not when you can create Captain Flint to do it for you.

Our last dramatic flashback has another glimpse of a flashback as James reflects on his soft moments with Thomas; making out in his room, listening to Meditations read aloud by Thomas. 

They are all so - soft.  Incredibly soft and this is through the eyes of the man who would become the feared Captain Flint.  One of the few instances of true softness in the entire show.  I love how gently he caresses the book before opening it to see the little note to him.  Awwww, again so soft.

Another point that I’d like to bring up here is that with this soft book scene, we see Flint wearing his two rings.  I about drove myself nuts in the first two seasons spending too much time trying to track them to glean any additional information.  Season one episode eight shows his starting set up for the rings below.

In short, there is something there, but I’m not sure how much we can read into it compared to all of the book related plot points and character development.  There is a ring on his right ring finger and one on his pinky.  We know that he’s from a working class background so he wouldn’t have a family ring or anything like that.  I’d guess it has something to do with being a seaman or some sort of professional thing, since people are inclined to wear professional rings.    Furthermore, in all of the flashbacks to 1705 he wears ZERO rings.  Never.  Nothing.  The rings are clearly something that are a part of Captain Flint. 

I’m not expert on ring meanings but the ring finger one could have the lazy interpretation it is representative of a relationship.  Since he’s very careful about how others perceive him, it likely could double internally as a link to Thomas and externally to Miranda since those in the know, think she is his woman.  In season three he will outright refer to her as such to rile up his own crew.  Was she actually his woman?  No, but having people think that his ring is linked to her helps shape his image.  Aka our Captain is involved with a bookish Puritan woman . . .  Plus, Miranda still wears what is likely her wedding ring on her left ring finger from 1705 to her death in Ashe’s estate.

After Gates death, Flint moves the two rings over to his left hand.  They stay there for most of season two until he and Miranda go to meet their old friend Peter Ashe.  Again, with my limited knowledge of things the left hand is more about his intellect and feelings while the right hand is about power and presentation.  After they take the unnamed Spanish Man O’ War, we see him thinking in the background as he devises his return to Captain before they reach Nassau.  I think while he retools and revises things he’s going for the more subtle ring position; that he’s focused on what to do next and how to move forward now knowing that the Urca gold is practically theirs.  As long as they can turn around and do so.

So, maybe he’s regained his bravado and needs to really impress upon Ashe that he’s fully in charge of things and his willingness to seek out a compromise. Which is why only at the end of season two does he wear the rings on the right hand again.

I wasted too much effort trying to determine if his pinky ring is the same one that Thomas has in the flashbacks but that is not the case.  Thomas has one that he always wore on this right pinky and it also had some sort of gemstone set in it. As you can tell I’m totally into jewelry and know all sorts of things about them - I hope you can read my dripping sarcasm as I’m not sure if I could even stand to wear a ring in the first place. 

Flint’s pinky ring does not have any sort of stone set in it.  It would have been a clever detail to have him wear Thomas’ ring, but in no way in hell would have happened with how ruthless Alfred Hamilton was.

They were swiftly removed from London and Thomas was spirited away before Miranda or James even knew or could do anything about it.  And you’d guess that Thomas was likely wearing his ring when he was taken sooooo, yeah, cute fanfic idea but not supported by what the show has shown us visually.  I’m sure the most important gift from Thomas to James was that book above, since we know to quote Dufrense, ‘he likes his books’.

Overall though, Black Sails is a show that excelled in showing you what was happening in addition to telling you things through conversations between characters.  What confuses me is anyone who was watching this show and then got to episode five in season two and was completely shocked by the visual reveal that Thomas and James were deeply in love.  You can go all the way back to the sex scene with Miranda and James to know that it wasn’t romantic love there.  The fact that James wraps his arms around Thomas, yet can’t bring himself to even touch Miranda makes it quite clear how he saw his relationships with both of them.  Well, that is all for now.

#black sails #black sails meta #black sails captain flint #captin flint #james mcgraw #james flint #thomas hamilton #miranda hamilton #miranda barlow #show don't tell

[ravixen]

I posted 1,740 times in 2022

That's 729 more posts than 2021!

259 posts created (15%)

1,481 posts reblogged (85%)

(under read more because it's REALLY long)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@neonun-au

@ambivartence

@dokyeomblr

@ravixen

@lesbiancarat

I tagged 1,718 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#seventeen - 590 posts

#gifs - 521 posts

#pictures - 397 posts

#katalk - 217 posts

#feedback - 109 posts

#text - 107 posts

#nct - 96 posts

#video - 85 posts

#ravixen - 84 posts

#anonymous.reply - 82 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#skye i think u put into words why i'm having a hard time getting into the newer groups??? or maybe i just don't have the energy anymore

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The previous anon with the link

I’m fine with any whether it is OT13 or any 5-6 members 🥰

svt + s/o taking off promise ring after a fight

➔ reaction || requested || domestic!au || ot13

➔ warnings: arguing mention || 354 words ➔ notes: hurt/not quite comfort, angst ; this anon requested something similar to this post by @rutowonz. since loki was directly referenced, i asked and got the okay to write this! if you liked this reaction, pls reblog for visibility! for additional context, highly recommend: svt + fighting with their s/o ➔ pt. 1 | pt. 2

the way you've been fidgeting with the ring on your finger is distracting, and as the argument continues, his gaze can't help flickering down now and then to observe what you're doing. he really hopes you don't take it off at some point. this isn't a drama, he keeps telling himself, but his worries come true and his throat closes up as you slip off the ring completely. the words die on his tongue, and you haven't even noticed, rolling the metal between your fingers. he approaches you carefully, reaching for your hands first to take the ring and put it back in place without a sound:

JEONGHAN, minghao, seungkwan

"stop that," he says suddenly, and you freeze at his tone, at the way his eyes are widened and staring at your hands, but his voice startles you. the room is silent, save for the high pitched clink of your promise ring hitting the floor, clattering a few times before rolling to a stop by his feet. he picks it up and holds it out to you, eyebrows furrowed as if asking whether you meant something by it. you didn't, you swear:

seungcheol, SOONYOUNG, mingyu

he finds your ring on the kitchen counter when he goes to get water. it's nearly 4am and you're sound asleep in the guest room, not wanting to stay in the same bed tonight, so there's no way you took it off and forgot about it...he pockets the ring, fingers curling tight around it like he's holding together the pieces of his heart. he'll sort this out with you in the morning. he doesn't want to think about what it means, but it has him tossing and turning all night:

junhui, jihoon, vernon

you approach him and wait for him to hold out a hand before dropping the promise ring into his palm. the silence is deafening. he looks at you, down at the ring, up at you again. "what're you saying?" he finally manages, though it's a hoarse whisper, more of a croak than his actual voice. please don't break his heart here:

joshua, WONWOO, seokmin, chan

379 notes - Posted April 4, 2022

#4

Could you do the rest of the members reaction for s/o who's clingy during socializing? I found it too cute!

svt + s/o who's clingy in social situations (pt 3)

➔ reaction || request

➔ warnings: none || 447 words ➔ notes: fluff, shy!y/n ; hey there, anon!! i also think this prompt is super cute, so thanks for helping me wrap up the series. i've gotten better with my social skills, especially because of the upgrade in customer service experience, but when i'm tired or shy or feeling vulnerable, i definitely feel like this y/n. btw i changed the scenario a little bit! as always, please reblog if you liked &lt;3

JEONGHAN: i feel like he realizes early on, but he doesn't tell you lmfao he likes messing with you, so he'll be like, "alright, see you in a bit!" and you're fine until you realize just how many guests are coming in late. he's never too far, though, so once you start looking around, he materializes, easing the cup out of your hand to lace your fingers together. it's cute how the tension literally melts from your shoulders. he doesn't do it much — he hates when you're feeling distressed.

WONWOO: it takes him a long time to notice your habit, to be honest. whenever he pulls you in and introduces you to new people, you fall into the conversation with an easy smile and a charming laugh. the fact that you always slip your hand into his? thought you were just trying to be cute. it isn't until he sees you gripping the edge of seungcheol's sleeve as you talk with a different group that he realizes. after that, he stops wandering off at gatherings in case you need him.

SEOKMIN: he will literally stop talking and ask you what you're doing, and that makes your wrinkle your nose in embarrassment. "nothing," you tell him, hand moving back to your own pocket. but he doesn't mean it maliciously — you just surprised him by grabbing the back of his shirt. the person in front of you excuses themself for a drink while seokmin takes your wrist and tucks it into his elbow. your fingers curl into the fabric as he leads you around. your now relaxed posture doesn't go unnoticed by him.

MINGYU: he likes socializing with people, and people like socializing with him. so whenever you arrive at an event, he'll tell you to wander off on your own while he greets the others. it's not because he doesn't want to be with you — he just feels bad taking up your time. this time, you hover by his shoulder, twiddling your fingers as you ask, "...can i go with you?" why didn't you ask him earlier omg he loves that you're hanging off his arm.

CHAN: he loves when you depend on him. it's like — wow, you trust him enough? he makes you feel safe? so when you ask to hold his hand, skittish amidst the growing crowd, he can't help standing a little straighter. "of course," he says, beaming with all the warmth in the world as you take hold of his sleeve. he takes his role as your pillar very seriously and keeps you behind him as he parts the crowd. it's hard to stay nervous when he keeps squeezing your hands to check in.

461 notes - Posted May 9, 2022

#3

seventeen HHU + Jeonghan favorite small touches? haha i don't know how to phrase it, but like headpats and forehead kisses ^_^

svt + small touches

➔ reaction || requested

➔ 291 words ➔ notes: fluff ; hi there!! i decided to keep this quick and casual for a different vibe. thanks for sending it in :) i interpreted it as little touches that they do to you rather than the other way around. it's not necessarily their favorite, but more like what they do most often? reblog if you liked &lt;3

SEUNGCHEOL: whenever he passes you, i feel like he squeezes your hip. it's nothing more than that; he grabs you quickly with one hand and then moves on with a grin and a murmured excuse me because he's sure that you're thinking of him now. it doesn't matter if there's plenty of space for him to go around you.

JEONGHAN: he definitely puts a hand on your leg. regardless of whether his attention is actively on you, he slides his hand over and places it on your thigh. he squeezes your knee affectionately when it gets chaotic, and i know i talk about him doing this all the time, but it's canon, okay.

WONWOO: i firmly believe that he's a shirt tugger. when you're standing by the couch talking to someone across the room, he'll tug on your shirt until you sit down next to him. when he gets fidgety, he'll pull on your sleeves without a word. sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

MINGYU: he puts his feet in your lap, if not himself. it doesn't matter how much of a gap you put between you two. he just keeps scooting over, and before you know it, he has his legs thrown over yours, curling into you as he laughs at someone's joke. this doesn't count as a small touch, but oh well.

VERNON: he seeks you out in a crowd. comes up next to you with his hands stuffed into his pockets and taps your shoulder with his. it's enough to get your attention, and when you look over, he shoots you a smile. sometimes the smile is just a greeting, sometimes it's asking if you're alright. regardless, he stays there with his elbow brushing against yours.

505 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

#2

hello!! if it’s okay to request, may i ask for jeonghan joshua hoshi wonwoo and jihoon’s reaction to their s/o saying “i love you” to them so casually even though it’s their first time saying it? ahah i’d like to think s/o is not shy, just maybe not a very verbal person... does that make sense? AGAIN only if it’s okay!! thank you so much, i love your works :)

svt + s/o's first "i love you"

➔ reaction || requested

➔ 793 words ➔ notes: fluff ; yes, that makes total sense and of course it's ok!! these reactions are more like their reaction to a casual first "i love you." the first time i said it, i was so shy haha sorry you have to wait so long for these posts ;A; i wish i could write faster. if you liked, pls reblog &lt;3

JEONGHAN: "i'm going to a meeting, but feel free to make yourself at home until i'm back. the others don't mind when you're here," he tells you from the front hall, hands busy tugging on his boots. you hum from the couch, raising your arm in a half hearted farewell that he can't see. "okay, drive safe, i love you." the footsteps marching towards the door suddenly stop. there's hurried unzipping as he kicks off his boots and rushes into the living room again. "what'd you say?" the distance between the threshold and your spot is tiny, but his voice is breathless as he stops by your side. "say that again." you furrow your brows. "okay, bye, drive safe...?" but with the way you're fighting your smile, he knows you're teasing him on purpose. sits on your lap and refuses to get up until you say it. "i'm going to be late, y'know." "and whose fault is that???" "yours!"

JOSHUA: maybe he would've reacted differently if you two were alone, but you're not alone. two other members are in the kitchen preparing snacks for movie night, and they definitely heard your casual "i love you" when he asked about — actually, he can't remember what happened leading up to this moment. what were you saying before? his mind is filled with his friends' amused ooh's from the other room, and he's busy planning how he can respond without making a fool of himself. he settles for pressing a kiss to your knuckles and smiling to soothe your nerves. "we'll talk after this," he says, squeezing your fingers as you nod. it's all he can think about during the movie, though. if you wanted to distract him from something he's wanted to watch for a while, congrats, you've succeeded, so now you have to re-watch it with him.

SOONYOUNG: he's face down on the practice room floor when you come in and squat beside him. "whatcha up to?" you prod at his shoulder. he groans, twiddling his fingers in your general direction. "taking a break. there's this cool part in the song, but none of my moves really fit." he huffs. "i figured i'd clear my head and try again in a bit." "you want snacks?" "yes please." "alright, i'll be back. love you." his hand shoots out to grab your ankle before you can step away. he doesn't move, though; it's silent for a moment until he lets out a single chuckle. a pause, and then another chuckle. it doesn't take long for him to start full-on giggling into the ground and you're rolling your eyes when he flips onto his back, giddy smile as infectious as ever. you poke his forehead this time, red from sticking to the wood flooring. "want to walk to the store with me? maybe the air here is getting to you."

WONWOO: you perk up at the box of sweets in his hands. "wow, i was craving these!" you exclaim as he opens the package and gives you one. "i know. i overhead you muttering about it, so i picked some up," he says, taking one for himself. you've been hyping them up so much; time to see if they're actually good. he takes a bite. "you're always paying attention. thanks for that, i love you." he chokes and hits his chest before wheezing, "you can't just — say that out of nowhere!" he's burying his face in his hands now, bent over at the waist. this is so embarrassing. he can't believe you just said those words and his first reaction wasn't to say it back but to nearly do a spit take like in a tv show. peeking out from between his fingers, he mumbles, "can we rewind two minutes and do that again?"

JIHOON: he's showing you one of his party tricks, probably the karaoke echo one, and the way he's getting weirdly excited over it has your heart so fond. "you're cute," you say, laughing at how your attention stokes his ego. his spine straightens at that. "i love you." he stops then, nearly dropping his microphone. "ah, is that so." he nods like it's not a big deal, but he can't make eye contact anymore and you know how he acts when he's embarrassed, so when his ears get progressively redder, your grin just widens. "can you show me another trick? maybe the finger snapping one? you haven't done that one in a while." "huh? oh, yeah. yeah, i can. uh." you've rarely seen him so flustered, and it's sweet that he's like this over just a few words. it'll take him a day or two, but he'll text you and ask if you meant what you said. of course you did??

543 notes - Posted January 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hi aeris !! i hope ur having a nice day :) can i request for a hhu + jeonghan reaction where instead of making them sleep on the couch/in another room after an argument, you do it instead? thank uu <3

svt + you sleeping on the couch

➔ reaction || requested || domestic!au

➔ 755 words ➔ notes: fluff ; as i'm writing this, i'm having a very busy day </3 but i'm accepting that i'll always be stressed so that it's easier to look for the positive things. like ayato coming home >:) i'll make sure of it. if you liked, pls reblog for visibility!

SEUNGCHEOL: he realizes what you're doing as soon as you grab your pillow from the bed, so he blocks the door with his absurdly wide shoulders. "where do you think you're going?" he asks, crossing his arms and straightening his spine for good measure, but his leader posture is negated by his fuzzy bunny-printed pjs. "to sleep." he nods behind you. "the bed's over there, though." you stare at him, eyebrow raised, wondering who will move first. of course, it's him. it takes a few minutes before he steps into you, places his hands on your waist, and walks you backwards until your legs hit the bed and you tumble back. he hooks a leg around your ankles. "alright, now go to sleep." he closes his eyes, ignoring how you squirm in his arms. you huff. "scoot over. if you're going to be difficult, at least let me get comfortable."

JEONGHAN: he knows what you're doing, but he also knows that he can't manhandle you out of anything, so he settles for trailing behind you as you collect your pillow and an extra blanket from the closet. "...what are you doing?" you finally ask when he also grabs a blanket. he shrugs. "whatever you're doing." he follows you to the living room, and while you get settled on the couch, he sits on the floor by you and throws the blanket over his legs. "seriously, what are you doing?" you huff, unable to turn off the lamp. "you think i'm going to let you sleep out here alone?" "you're going to hurt your back." "and you won't?" still upright, he leans back against the couch and closes his eyes. "good night." he's definitely guilting you into going to bed because you can't just let him stay like that, but hey, it works.

WONWOO: he tries to pull the pillow from your grasp, but your fingers dig into it, crushing the soft shape between your hands. "i'm going to sleep on the couch," you snap. this was supposed to be a way to distance yourself from the argument, but your decision is quickly on track to blowing up into another argument. he frowns. "no, it's fine. i can," he insists. "you always complain about how lumpy it is." "so you don't want to hear me complain again? is that it?" his frown deepens. "that's not...i want you to have a good night's sleep for tomorrow. you have that big thing that you've been working on, right? you need rest." your stance relaxes at that. he remembered?? you only mentioned it in passing. he uses your hesitation to spin you around and nudge you back into the room. "so let's go, hurry and sleep."

MINGYU: the argument made him so exhausted that he crawled into bed and fell asleep. he figured that you'd join him later, which is why he's so confused when he wakes up in the middle of the night and your side is still empty. it's cold, like you were never there in the first place, and there's no sounds of you in the bathroom or the kitchen. pulling on a sweatshirt, he pads out into the hallway, whispering your name in case he scares you. he finds you splayed out on the couch, a throw blanket tucked around you. "hey, wake up," he murmurs, frowning as he nudges your shoulder. "come to bed." you blink up at him blearily before burying your face in the couch. "no." "are you still mad?" "...no." clearly, it's time for drastic measures. he lays over you, smushing your body into the cushions. "wha — mingyu!"

VERNON: he rests against the headboard, scrolling through his phone and waiting for you to come in, but after he sees the same video for the fifth time, he decides to go look for you. he finds you curled up on the couch, pretending to be asleep even though the lamp is still on. leaning over you, he asks, "what're you doing out here?" "...sleeping." "oh, okay." he knows it's because of the argument, but he can't just leave you; he'd rather risk your ire than have you shivering under the thin blanket. shuffling around for the tv remote, he finds it under the table and scoots your legs over to make room. once he's settled, he puts your legs over his lap. "why's the tv on?" he shrugs. "we might as well watch a movie." with your comfort movie on-screen, it isn't long until you're curled into his side.

946 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I DIDN'T THINK THE TOP POST HAD ALMOST 1K NOTES

[sometimesambroswrites]

V proud of my lil nail

#I also have LT on my ring finger but this is all I could do #Back to studying

[hopelesshawks]

Basic Instincts Part 43- 1 Year Post

18+ Hawks x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: Hawks was your first friend, your first kiss, and your first love. You were the same for him. But you’re not little commission trainees anymore, you’re full fledged pro-heroes now with all the baggage and sacrifice that entails. Things are different now, and when the two of you end up accidentally mated, well… they’re about to get even more different.

Warnings for breeding kink, dirty talk, minor praise kink, fingering, hand job, biting, marking, wing kink/quirk play, overstimulation, cum play, oral (female receiving), squirting, unprotected sex

Masterlist Help Lulu &lt;3

The heavy security doors to Tartarus open for you slowly with a loud grinding sound. The sound of your shoes on the metal flooring echoes as a guard leads you forward, the other doors closing behind you. He leads you down several corridors until you reach a visitation area. A few other people are also there visiting inmates, it’s a new feature but one you and Hawks had insisted be implemented. Bringing humanity back to the prison system had been one of your highest priorities. You sit down at the seat reserved for you and wait, just like the other visitors.

Your head perks up when you hear the buzz of the door leading to the cells opening. The Noriko who steps out is somehow simultaneously exactly the same and incredibly different from the deranged woman you’d watched get locked up just under a year prior. Her ash blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, flyaways framing her face. Bags hang heavy under her angry eyes as she’s led towards you in shackles. Her glare doesn’t let up even as she’s sat down at your table.

“Noriko.”

“(Y/n).”

“I heard you wanted to see me?”

Noriko scowls, looking away before seeming to collect herself. When she turns back to you it’s the same face you recall seeing a hundred times before when she was still in charge. “Wanted to see for myself the great (y/l/n) (y/n), the one revolutionizing the Japanese hero industry with her perfect husband,” she says somewhat sardonically, her eyes wandering to the feather around your neck before slipping down to the beautiful diamond ring adorning your left hand. It’s flashier than you would’ve picked for yourself but Keigo’s bird brain had insisted you needed a big, shiny rock and so the one you have now is the result of compromise. You adore it. “And? Do I live up to expectation?” you ask. “As always you don’t.”

“Tough talk from a former president now rotting in Tartarus.”

“You had a lot to say about my mother and I’s corruption but then the minute you’re in the saddle you toss your only rival in here. Seems suspicious to me.”

“You’re in here on corruption charges and attempted murder, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, you just better hang on tight to Keigo once I’m out of here.”

“First of all? It’s Hawks to you. And second of all, you were never, are not now, and never will be a rival to me for Keigo’s love because he has never and will never love anyone except for me. I don’t need you locked up in Tartarus to feel secure in my relationship with my husband and mate.”

“He’s not your mate anymore, I made damn well sure of that.”

Your stomach turns at the reminder as Noriko grins at you smugly. Seeming to sense your distress, the feather around your neck twitches. You’re too far from Keigo for it to be capable of much more than that. It could also be a coincidence this time around in all honesty, the feather had been twitchy all day.

“We don’t need the bond to be mates. The fact you don’t understand that is exactly why you’d never be in my position.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I’ve got a gorgeous husband to do that for me but thanks.”

Noriko lunges at you with teeth bared but you don’t even flinch as the guards surge forward to catch her before she can get very far. You nod to them to indicate you’re done, rising from your seat. “I genuinely hope you get better,” you tell her sincerely before walking away, a guard coming to escort you out of the facility.

The journey home feels too long. You have to drive from Tartarus to the rental car place, walk to the train, and finally take the train back downtown to get to your apartment, all with your duffel bag thrown over your shoulder. You really need to re-consider your post-mission transportation ideas. The sun is setting by the time you trudge up to your apartment, the only benefit being that Keigo will probably be home by now. Your suspicion is confirmed as the feather around your neck starts to twitch more and more excitedly the closer you get to your door. If you were paying more attention you may have noticed that the plume looks brighter, but it’s been a long few days out of town and you’re just as eager to get home as the feather seems to be to get you there. “Settle down I’m almost there,” you chuckle as you reach a hand up to stroke over the bristles of the feather. It seems to like the attention so you keep it up as you finally get to your apartment door, unlock it, and step inside.

The sight waiting for you on the other side literally freezes you in place, your hand stilling much to the feather’s, and apparently your husband’s since he practically whines when you stop, displeasure.

Bright red feathers are littered all over your apartment and the living room has been all but cleared of furniture to make space for what can only be described as a blanket nest. The dirty laundry you’d asked Keigo to get to while you were gone instead lines the nest, even more of Keigo’s feathers concentrated there. Keigo looks rough to say the least. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, a noticeable tent in the front. Judging by the last drops of water still clinging to his wings and the towel on the floor behind him you’d guess he’d taken a shower not long ago and yet his bare chest glistens with sweat as it heaves with each labored breath he sucks in. He’s braced against a doorframe with his eyes squeezed shut, entire body trembling. “(y/n),” he keens, “don’t stop.” You can only stare as your hand goes back to the feather and you experimentally run your fingers through the bristles. His reaction is immediate, grip tightening on the door frame so much you’re pretty sure you hear it splinter as his wings puff and flutter and he spills into his sweats, a stain forming on the gray material.

“Kei?”

He’s on you in a second, practically launching himself at you so he can pull you into his arms. His nose buries itself into your neck and he coos happily as he takes greedy inhales of your scent. “Fucking missed you, need you. Need to fill you up, my beautiful wife. Wanna see you round with my kids, wanna fucking breed you until you can’t walk,” he groans, pants already starting to tent again. The attention and his insistent hands already slipping under your shirt has heat rushing to your core, panties dampening noticeably but your concern forces you to keep a clear head so you can check in on him. You gently lift his head from your neck so you can look at him properly. His eyes are somewhat glossy and his hair is plastered to his forehead in sweat. It’s obvious but you press your hand to his forehead anyway and he groans at the contrast of your cool palm on his overheated skin as you confirm that he is indeed feverish. “You’re in rut,” you note and Keigo nods eagerly, immediately pressing his nose back into your neck. “Why didn’t you take your suppressants baby? Especially when you knew I was going to be gone,” you ask gently. “Wanted to try again now, not in a year,” he pants and it makes your heart stop in your chest. Try again. Try to bond again.

It’s been the one, unspoken weight hanging over the two of you since you got the Association for Hero Accountability off the ground. You’re perfectly happy without the bond yes but that doesn’t mean you don’t both miss it. The two of you hadn’t talked about what you would do about his ruts. When you’d first gotten back together there had been a silent agreement he wouldn’t have to suppress his natural instincts anymore but that was before. Before your bond was ripped away. Because as much as you both know you don’t need the bond and know that it never coming back is a distinct possibility, something about potentially confirming that it’s gone forever is terrifying. So the two of you didn’t talk about it and you didn’t tell Keigo about how desperately you wanted to try again when his rut came back around. Yet somehow both of you still seemed to end up on the same page anyway. “They’re, uh, they’re in the medicine cabinet. If you don’t want to. ’S ok,” Keigo pants and his ability to still execute restraint even at his most unrestrained will always amaze you. “No, I want you to make me yours again,” you tell him. “Good,” he practically growls.

You’re not at all surprised when immediately afterwards his feathers are shredding off the clothes you’re both wearing as he bites your neck hard enough to break the skin. His tongue laves over the spot immediately afterwards to soothe it before he works back up to pull you into a bruising, possessive kiss. Both of his hands move to palm your breasts as a feather travels down between your legs and brushes along your slit. You and Keigo both moan into the kiss at the reciprocal stimulation. He continues to massage your breasts as he slips his tongue into your mouth to tangle with yours, delighting in every whimper and moan you make as his feather starts to circle your clit. His wings shudder, each individual feather seeming to twitch as if they all are experiencing the same stimulation as the one dancing along your folds. You and Keigo both seem to share one thought as one of his hands goes to your dripping cunt at the same time as one of yours finds his achingly hard cock. He immediately slips to fingers inside as you thumb the head of his dick to gather the precum there. You pump your hand at the same pace as he fingers you and soon your kiss devolves into simply panting into each other’s mouths as you approach your respective climaxes. Your cries echo in the apartment as your orgasm finally hits you, your walls fluttering around Keigo’s fingers until he’s tumbling into his own ecstasy right after you, long ropes of his seed splattering across your torso. He’s immediately reaching out to smear it along your skin further, another way of marking you as his.

Keigo drags you back to the makeshift nest then, laying you down with care in the sea of blankets, clothes, and feathers in spite of how otherwise harried his actions are. He wastes no times kissing down your chest, loving the combined taste of your sweat and his seed, before working lower and lower until his head rests between your thighs, warm breath ghosting over your sex as you groan at the sight. “You’re so close to ready for me baby, so close. One more and then I’ll make you mine again ok?” he pants, feeling impatient but needing to make sure you’ll be ok through it. “Yes baby, ok. Just, please-“

You don’t have to ask twice. Keigo licks a long stripe up your slit before pulling your swollen clitoris into his mouth and sucking hard. You cry out, one hand flying down to tangle in his hair and the other reaching up to clutch at the feather still clasped around your neck. He hums in approval at the action, his own hips rutting into the blankets as he moves his mouth lower so he can slip his tongue inside your cunt. You whine, hips bucking up his the long muscle slides along your inner walls to find that one, spongy spot inside you that Keigo knows will drive you wild. His hands reach up to hold your hips in place but even still you can’t help but squirm in his grip as he continues to tongue fuck you like his life depends on it. You know you won’t last much longer when a feather once again slips between your legs to stimulate your clit while he focuses on your cunt and the way it flutters and squeezes around his tongue. The coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter and tighter and just as you think the pleasure couldn’t get any more intense Keigo adds two of his fingers to drag along your inner walls right along side his tongue. Your vision whites out for a second as your orgasm punches through you, clear liquid gushing out of your cunt and splattering across Keigo’s face. You’re hands tighten around his hair and the feather as your body quivers through ecstasy and it’s enough to have him spilling into the blankets below him as he pulls his mouth away but leaves his fingers to milk you through your bliss.

By the time you come down all that’s left is just two of his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you. A whimper crawls out of your throat because it’s all so much and your entire body is tingling and you barely feel any of your limbs but when Keigo slides back up your body, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question, pupils blown so wide they almost completely subsume his golden irises, you know you’d go as many rounds as he asked of you. So you nod eagerly and the next moment his fingers are being replaced by the head of his dick. He slips in you so easily it’s downright sinful and when his hips are flush against yours as he bottoms out inside of you, you know it’s just as overwhelming for him as it is you. You both babble broken “I Love You”s into the air between you as he starts to move, slowly at first but soon the last of his control fades and he starts to pound into you with an animalistic fervor that has you clinging onto his shoulders desperately, nails clawing down his back and leaving scratches as he sucks marks into your neck between murmured words of praise and appreciation. Suddenly he shifts the angle and you cry out particularly loudly, clenching down tightly around his shaft. Feeling his own climax starting to draw near again, Keigo reaches a hand between you both to press circles into your overworked clit as he hits you in that same spot over and over. It’s too much in the best way possible and you let him know as much as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge into ecstasy as well.

“‘M so close Kei, fuck I’m so close.”“Me too baby. Let’s cum together ok? Cum with me yea?”

You can feel something else building, something warm in your chest like the sun itself has made a home there as Keigo’s rhythm starts to get sloppy and he starts to work your clit harder and faster. As the pleasure you’re feeling intensifies so too does the warm feeling that you can’t quite place until with one final stroke Keigo sends both of you into ecstasy, your cunt gushing around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. At that very moment something seems to snap into place, something you feared you’d never feel again. Immediately you and Keigo’s gazes find each other, silently asking for confirmation that the other felt the same thing too. No words need to be exchanged, you both just know and then relieved, incredulous laughter bubbles up from both of your chests. As you come down from your releases, the high of the warm, fluttery feeling in your chests doesn’t subside. It’s his joy and it’s yours as well. Tears cascade down both your cheeks as Keigo leans down to kiss you, barely able to on account of how large you’re both grinning.

It’s back.

The bond is back.

And this time you know it’s not going anywhere.

A/N: I can’t believe this series is over but this is it guys 😭 I’m so incredibly proud of it tbh and I can’t believe it’s done?? When it’s been living in my head rent free for so long now??? Anyway I’m emo I hope y’all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it

Taglist: @oliviasslut @theycallme-becky @vibesdontlie @superhermit @thechroniclesofawriter @fandomsgotmefucked @simpsfortodoroki @dingdongitsbees

#hopelessbi #hopeless.thirst #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks smau #hawks x y/n #hawks x fem!reader #bnhacity

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Four

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2900 

Warnings: angst, toxic relationship, emotional blackmail 

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Three | Masterlist

- - - -

“Father?” 

A voice calling out in the church stops us mid kiss.

“Oh shit, it’s Pam!” The Priest whispers, eyes wide.

“Father, are you in here?” She calls out again.

Remembering his confession about hiding from her I can’t help but find it amusing we’re now both hiding in this tiny box. A tiny giggle escapes my lips and the Priest shushes me, placing his hand gently over my mouth. 

After a minute Pam finally retreats back to her room, leaving us alone. The priest waits another few seconds before removing his hand and letting out a sigh. 

“That was too close” 

“Was kinda hot though” I reply, planting a kiss on his lips.

“Yeah it was” he laughs, kissing me back “but we should probably move this back to my office incase she comes back” He kisses me again and takes my hand. He pokes his head out from the curtain to check no ones there before leading me out the confession box and to his office. He shuts the door and to my surprise spins me around till my back falls against it. He immediately resumes kissing me, letting out small breathless moans as our tongues explore each others mouths. His hands find their way from my hips, up my sides and to the buttons of my shirt. I place my hands over his, stopping him.

“Do you mind if we don’t, just yet.. I'm not- I'm not ready for that” I stutter “I'm sorry”

He plants a kiss on my forehead before leaning his forehead against mine.

“We don’t have to do anything until you're ready” he whispers and smiles a genuine, loving smile which I return. 

“Can we just cuddle for a bit?” I ask shyly

“Of course” 

He leads me over to the two seater sofa and sits down, gently pulling me down with him and wrapping himself around me. 

Laying on the Priest’s small sofa, my head on his chest and his arms around me, I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven. We stay like that for at least ten minutes, silently enjoying the blissful feeling of each others company. 

I tilt my head to look up at him and find him watching me. 

“What?” I giggle, feeling slightly self conscious under his gaze. 

“Nothing, just- thinking”

“About what?”

“It doesn’t matter”

He smiles at me and places a kiss on my forehead. He brings his hand up to stroke the side of my face, his thumb gently glides over my burns and his face changes. There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

“He did this to you, didn’t he?”

I nod, biting my lip slightly. 

“Because you were with me?” 

“No” I reply quickly, not wanting him to think this was his fault “lt was my fault, I called him pathetic”

“That’s no excuse to hurt you!” 

“It’s always been a trigger word for Daniel.” I explain and he looks at me confused. I remove myself from under his arms and sit up to face him “His father always used to call him that. He wasn’t a very nice man, he was an alcoholic with anger issues. He used to beat Daniel’s mother in front of him and tell him it was his fault. And if he cried, like any child would, he told him he was pathetic.”

“That’s awful”

“When Daniel’s mother died, his dad changed. Started going to church and completely turned his life around. He was like a new man. But Daniel never forgave him. Even after he died, he just couldn’t. And I don't blame him, I can’t imagine the things he must have seen. At the funeral all these people from the church kept telling Daniel that his father was up in heaven watching over him, and he hated it. The idea that this man who did such horrendous things was allowed be in heaven, it made him so angry. That’s why he’s got such an issue with you. It’s not really about you personally, it’s what you stand for. Just religion in general.”

“Then why get married in a church?”

“My fault again. I had to beg and beg him to let me have the wedding here. My parents aren’t around anymore either but I have such fond memories of being here with them that I thought if we had the wedding here it would feel like they were with me. I know must sound silly-”

“Not at all, it’s a lovely thought. I bet they’d be so proud of you.”

“I hope so” 

The sound of the phone ringing pulls us out of our conversation. The Priest goes to his desk and picks up the phone. 

“Hello?” He answers with a cheery voice. 

Suddenly the smiles disappears from his face and he looks at me with wide eyes.

“Oh hi Daniel”

My heart stops. I feel like I could throw up. What the hell is Daniel doing calling the Priest? Does he know I’m here? Does he know what we’ve done?

“Slow down, say that again”

I watch intently as the Priest listens to Daniel on the other end, trying to figure out from his facial expressions what they’re talking about. 

“No I haven’t seen her” he lies “Why? What’s happened?” 

He must be asking about me. I take my phone from my pocket and power it on. I had turned it off in the hospital and completely forgot to turn it back on again. Multiple messages and endless missed calls from Daniel. 

“Don't worry, I’m sure she’s fine. If I see her I’ll let her know you're looking for her okay? Okay bye Daniel” he puts the phone down and looks up at me again “he sounds like he’s really panicking about you”

“Good!”

“You need to go home” the Priest says, walking over to me

“I don't want to” 

“I know. But you're gonna have to face him sooner or later” he puts his hands on my shoulders and I look up into his eyes before letting out a sigh.

“You're right. I should go. Thank you, for everything” I smile at him giving him a quick kiss before heading to the door. 

“Y/N?” He calls after me and I turn back to look at him “none of it is your fault”  

— — — —

The moment I step through the front door Daniel comes running, full of apologies. 

“Oh my God, Y/N. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Please forgive me. I love you so much. What did the hospital say?” 

“It will heal eventually. They gave me some cream for the pain.”

“I am so sorry! I’m gonna change-”

“I’ve heard it all before” I snap

“I know, I know- but I mean it. Here, let me take your shoes off for you”

“I don't need your help” I say, kicking my shoes off

“Let me take care of you! Go to bed and I’ll come up in a minute. Please, I want to make it up to you”

I stare him out for a moment before giving in and doing as he says. I get into some fresh pyjamas and climb into bed. A few minutes later I hear him coming upstairs.

“I made you a fresh coffee, since you didn’t get to drink yours this morning” 

He puts the coffee on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed next to me. He takes the cream from the table and squeezes some onto his fingers. He reaches towards me and I instinctively flinch away from his touch.

“Please, let me do this” he says quietly and I give him a small nod. 

I can’t help but let out a small whimper of pain as he touches my skin.

“Sorry!” 

I can't even look at him. I can hear from his voice he’s trying not to cry and the last thing I want to feel right now is pity for him. 

Once he’s finished applying the cream he wipes his hands on a tissue and climbs into bed next to me. He cautiously reaches over to put his arm around me, and because I don't have to the energy to argue I allow him to pull me in to cuddle up to him. 

He takes the remote from his bedside table drawer and turns the tv on. 

“What do you want to watch?” 

“We need to talk” I say and he turns the tv off again, releasing me from his arm and sitting up to look at me. He looks terrified.

“Okay?”

“Look I’ve been thinking-”

“Please” he interrupts, grabbing my hands and begging “don't break up with me!”

“Daniel” I sigh 

“I’ve been panicking all day thinking that you’d left me. If you hadn’t come home, I don't know what I would have done… I can’t live without you by my side.”

“Stop! I’m not breaking up with you… I just think we need time to work things out”

“What do you mean?” He looks concerned. 

“We should postpone the wedding”

“No! No we don't need to do that. What happened today will never happen again. I promise.” He says and I smirk slightly at hearing yet another empty promise. He notices. “I mean it. Y/N, I have waited over half my life to marry you. I don't wait any longer. I want to call you my wife and show everyone how much I love you!”

I watch as he squeezes my hand tightly in his own, almost as if he’s scared I’ll suddenly slip away and he’ll lose me. His eyes search mine and I can see the desperate panic he feels. I let out a sigh. 

“Okay, we’ll keep the set date.” I finally say and I see the relief flood through Daniel “but I don't think we should get married in the church”

“I thought that’s what you wanted”

“I do- I did. But you clearly don't want to and that’s okay. We’ll find somewhere that makes us both happy.”

“No, I don't want my issues to be the reason you don't get your dream wedding. We’re getting married in the church, and I’m going to make things right with the priest. I promise. When’s the next meeting?”

“Oh, you really don't have to-“

“I want to! It’s the final one before the big day right?” He asks and I nod “then I should definitely go! When is it?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be there.”

— — — — 

After another night of dreaming of the Priest, I was awakened by Daniel bringing me breakfast in bed. 

“This looks lovely, thank you” I say as he places the tray over my lap and gives me a kiss on the forehead. A memory flashes in my head of the priest pressing his lips to that same spot yesterday. 

“You're most welcome m’lady” he says in his poshest voice and bows like a butler, making an involuntary giggle escape my mouth “listen I’ve got to pop out but I’ll meet you at the church this afternoon”

“Okay” I nod, highly doubting he’s actually going to turn up. 

“I love you!” He kisses me again before leaving. 

Hearing him say he loves me sends a sudden pang of guilt through me. He loves me. And despite everything I do still love him. So why can’t I stop thinking about the priest? When I’m around him I feel more content than I’ve felt in years. I know I haven't known him for very long but I feel so strongly for him, its insane. 

How can I love two guys at once?

I let out a sigh and shake the thoughts out of my head. 

Once I finish my breakfast I get out of bed, have a shower and get ready for the day. I find myself counting down the hours till I get to see the priest again and as I finally make my way to the church the excited butterflies in my stomach are fluttering so hard I swear they’re going to burst out of me and fly right to him. I turn the corner and smile as I see him standing outside the front door chatting to someone. Our eyes meet and he smiles back at me, sending my heart soaring. That is until the man he’s chatting to turns around and I realise its Daniel. Then my heart feels like it stops all together. I know he said he was going to be here today I just didn’t believe he would actually show up. I’m almost disappointed he’s crashed my alone time with the priest. 

I snap out of it and remind myself I’m supposed to be happy, plastering an over the fake smile on my face as I greet my fiancé. 

“You're here!” I say, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. 

“I said I would be didn’t I? I have something for you, wait here” Daniel says before rushing off toward the carpark. I take my chance to talk to the priest. 

“I can’t believe he actually came”

“He also apologised to me”

“He did what?”

“I know, it’s a miracle!” The priest says sarcastically. 

“Doubt it. I’m sure he’ll be back to his usual self as soon as something gets him angry. I dread to think what he’d do if he ever found out that we...”

“Yeah about that. We both had too much to drink and I think we both said and did things we shouldn’t have. Maybe it’s best if we just... pretend that didn’t happen?”

My heart sinks as I realise what he’s saying. He regrets kissing me. But he told me he loved me! What if that just the alcohol talking? I realise he’s waiting for a response. 

“Of course, yeah you’re right! We were both drunk and I’d had a really bad day. Neither of us were in our right minds. It never happened” 

The priest doesn’t respond, just looks past me to something behind me. I turn around to follow his gaze and see the biggest flower bouquet I’ve ever seen walking towards me with Daniel’s legs. 

“Oh my God” I gasp

“I wanted to get you something as beautiful as you are, but nothing came close. This was the best I could do” 

“Thank you” I say quietly, blushing slightly “this must have cost a fortune!”

“You're worth every penny” he replies and I can’t help but smile as he leans in and kisses me. This is the Daniel I fell for all those years ago, not the man he’s become lately. Could he really have changed back?

“Oh isn’t that lovely” the Priest says, there’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice but it’s so subtle that thankfully Daniel doesn’t catch it “shall we head inside”

— — — — 

The meeting is nothing like I expected it to be. Daniel, being true to his word, was over the top friendly with the Priest. Every question asked, he would answer straight away. He was cracking jokes, telling stories about things we’ve done together and the places we’ve been. I couldn’t get a word in even if I wanted to. Although the Priest was smiling along, I could tell he couldn’t wait for this meeting to be over. He almost looks relieved when Pam knocks on the office door. 

“So sorry to interrupt Father, the Parish council are on the phone. Something about tomorrow’s fundraiser.. shall I tell them to call back later?”

“No no” he says quickly, jumping up from his chair “it’s okay, we’re pretty much done here anyway.” He turns back to look at us “sorry for the abrupt ending but…”

“Of course, we understand” Daniel responds getting up from his chair, and I do the same. 

“Pam will show you out” the Priest holds the door open for us and Daniel walks out behind Pam. I follow but stop at the door, face to face with the priest. 

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly and he nods, not able to look me in the eye. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He responds. I study him for a moment before he speaks again “better not keep those parish councillors waiting” I catch his hint and leave the room, taking one last look back at the Priest as he shuts the door before I run to catch up with Daniel and Pam. 

“Will we be seeing you at the fundraiser garden party tomorrow?” Pam asks as I join them at the door.

“I’m working” Daniel answers “but Y/N could”

“I’d love to but I’ve got my hen party tomorrow-” I excuse

“Yeah but that’s in the evening. You’re free all day right?” Dan argues

“uh… yeah I guess I am” I agree, reluctantly 

“Great! The more the merrier” Pam smiles “make sure you bring plenty of cash” 

“Will do. See you tomorrow” I say, giving her a small wave as Daniel and I head to the car. 

Daniel chats constantly on the drive home but I don't listen to a word. Instead my thoughts are consumed by the priest and his dismissive attitude towards me. How in the space of 24 hours can he have gone from telling me he loves me, to now not being able to look at me? 

Was it because Daniel was there? Did I do or say something wrong?

I guess I”ll have to wait till the fundraiser tomorrow to find out. 

Part Five

#hot priest #hot priest x reader #Andrew Scott x reader #fleabag #Andrew scott #fleabag fanfic #fleabag imagine #Andrew Scott imagine #Andrew Scott fanfic #fleabag fic #fleabag hot priest #hot priest imagine #hot priest fanfic #Andrew Scott priest #fleabag x reader

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December Day 7

@daminette-december2019-2020

((Note: If you’re a confused little muffin who saw our ship in the top 100 list and you want to know what in the ever loving fuck we are, feel free to dm me or mention me in a post or even to send an ask. do be warned tho that if u send me hate i will block and report u (and not just to tumblr, to everyone I know who is part of this fandom). our little sub fandom is not a toxic space and no one is allowed to make it one or there will be a fucking war))

And we’re back to our anxiety induced in denial Damian. I love this kid. Tho I do wanna make him slightly more… how do I say this… like cold? I dunno maybe I can bring that in with other people and his interactions. I just wanna write him with his proper grammar and what not and like lbh this boi is already a simp for Mari. But I don’t wanna let things happen too quickly, y’know?

Anyway, maybe I should make the theme of this chapter the fact that he has absolutely no chill. Lmao, I think that’s hilarious ngl. Also I’m just gonna pretend certain things existed back then for the sake of my sanity I can’t keep coming up with words that make sense for explaining what a thing is without saying the actual word because it didn’t exist yet. The hologram in that one chapter was hard enough bruh

Ok here we go, thanks for reading! I hope u enjoy it

Princes and Pedestals

Chapter 7 – Chill

Previous

Next

Damian rolled the ring between his fingers as the morning light filtered through his windows. She’d put the choice in his hands, it was a kind thing to do, smart too. It made sense, if this role was as important as she made it sound it needed someone who could commit to it.

The miraculous was the kind of black that seemed to stretch on forever. It had a bright green paw print on it. He hadn’t put it on yet but from what he could gather it’s kwami would appear as soon as he put it on.

He'd be one of the leaders of an entire Order. He had no idea how big it was. His mother had raised him to lead but that was an entirely different organization. How would Marinette react to that? Could he handle the responsibility?

These thoughts had been plaguing him from the moment he picked up the ring.

But that wasn’t what got to him the most. She was just so… good. She had even agreed to move her entire court to Gotham for his sake. To uproot her entire life and move everyone involved just so that he could stay with his family.

There had to be a catch.

There always is.

He sighed, overthinking everything wasn’t going to help him make this decision.

There was only one thing he could do.

He put on the ring and a bright light caught him off guard. A small floating cat like being appeared in front of him.

“Kid?” he kept his eyes closed as though he didn’t want to see who was in front of him, his voice breaking slightly.

Slowly, the kwami – Plagg if he remembered correctly - opened his eyes. Damian stared at him as disappointment flitted across the creature’s face.

He lifted his brow and asked, “Hope to see someone else, Plagg?”

He chuckled slightly, sadness lacing the sound, “My previous holder, thought maybe I'd get the chance to say goodbye this time,”

Damian frowned, “What do you mean?”

Plagg frowned, “You don’t know about my previous holder? Who gave you my miraculous?”

“Marinette did,” he said, simply, “She actually just gave me the chance to consider the offer of the position, I have the rest of the day to get to know you and make my decision,”

Plagg seemed to consider what he said, he then sat down on the bed in front of Damian. He explained the basics of the miraculous to him, the phrases he needed to use as well as what those phrases would do. The things he’d need as well as what behaviors he might pick up.

“Purring?” Damian said in a disbelieving voice, “You’re telling me I might start purring in my civilian form?”

Plagg cackled, “Yeah, don’t worry it’s not that bad,”

“Tt, what exactly is the purpose of it? In fact what exactly is my purpose? It seems like she has the leadership thing under control,”

Plagg seemed to sober up at the question, he flew up right in front of Damian’s face and looked him in the eyes, “Her job is to lead and look after her court,” his look sharpened and he narrowed his eyes, “Your job is to look after her, your job is to protect her, your job is to see her. Your purpose is to make hers as easy as possible. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll have other official responsibilities and you will rule alongside her, but your real job? Your purpose? You have to help her remember that she’s only human and that that’s okay,”

Damian stared at Plagg, the kwami stared back. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? There had to be something. Some kind of catch.

Before he could grill the kwami, Dick burst into his room.

Damian could see his brother’s clear panic and immediately stood. Dick’s eyes found his, “She’s gone,”

Damian felt himself spiral, memories flew through his mind. All the times he or any of his siblings had been taken. Cass didn’t speak for a month after the last incident. Jason’s “secret" panic attacks had increased tremendously. Tim stayed up for nights on end, only sleeping when he passed out. Damian sparred for hours and hours, hating the feeling of being useless. 

His father and Dick weren’t in Gotham at the time and Selina was helping Harley with one of her ‘projects’.

When they got Steph back after a week, she was so shook up that she kept waking up screaming from nightmares for months.

They all blamed themselves.

“Her kwami showed us a letter she left but someone could’ve faked it to buy time, they’re searching the village,” Jason said, coming into his room, holding a piece of parchment.

Damian barely registered the way Plagg seemed to study his reactions. They needed to find her, it was already afternoon, who knows how far gone she could be?

They spent hours scouring the castle. Before he knew it the moon was rising and they were all gathered in the living room, going over possibilities.

“I’m going to go get Alfred and Bruce, this has been going on long enough, it’s time to call in back up. It’s already passed nightfall and she’s not back yet,” Dick walked out of the room, barely two seconds passed before he shouted something to them, “Guys I found her!”

They were out quicker than a lightning bolt. He ignored his siblings as they all flocked around her. He took her in.

She was wearing a cloak, which Jason quickly took and gave to a passing maid. She wore one of her black dresses. Her hair was in a braid.

But the cloak was dirty, the dress had tears and the braid was messy.

But it was her eyes that got him. The blue irises looked like someone had taken every drop of sadness in the world and left it in them. They were red rimmed and puffy and there were black bags under them.

She’d been crying and she hadn’t slept. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Somewhere along the line, they moved back into the living room. Cass was sitting next to Marinette on the couch and the others were arguing.

Damian couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was here. She was safe. She wasn’t taken.

Cass tapped his arm, he turned to look at her and she started signing. (a/n ok yeah I know that sign language might not have existed but do I really care?)

Get her out of here, she’s tired, Cass signed.

Damian nodded and after asking her permission and scolding his siblings, he escorted her to her room.

Plagg whispered something to her that he couldn’t hear. 

Then she apologized for scaring him and he explained his thought process. She explained that he would’ve been able to know via their miraculous whether she was in trouble or not. He made a mental note to ask Plagg more about that.

When they got to her room he opened her door. She was about to go in but he grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked at him expectantly. He searched her gaze, he had so much he wanted to ask her, why she’d been crying was at the top of that list.

But she looked so tired, and Damian just couldn’t get himself to form the words. Instead he bid her goodnight and went back to the living room where his siblings were waiting.

All eyes turned to him when he entered. He didn’t know what to say. Instead of thinking his words through he blurted out the first thing he thought.

“She didn’t flinch when our eyes met,” he said. They all stared at him for a few seconds. Usually they would’ve laughed at his bluntness, Damian is certain, but there was something about the haunted look on her face that sapped all humor out of the situation.

Jason was crouched in front of the fire. Stephanie sat on one of the chairs while Dick leaned against its armrest. Damian was next to Cassandra on the couch and the five of them sat in silence.

Millions of questions danced through the air, the answers all just out of reach.

Little did they know that they weren’t the only ones with questions.

Outside, three pairs of eyes were watching the oblivious siblings closely.

Damian felt a chill go down his spine and turned towards the window. He walked over and stared out into the forest, he didn’t see anyone but the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave him.

He closed the curtains.

The smallest of the three chuckled slightly, “She got herself a paranoid one, huh?”

“We need to head back,” the only guy out of the three said to the others.

They nodded and followed him deeper into the forest.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt @fusser90

#daminette december #daminette #utp writes #well would u look at that #me actually following a prompt pretty well #it's gonna snow in Egypt #does it snow in Egypt? i dunno man #anyway here's protective batsiblings again #sad plagg my poor baby #Damian's pov after basically ignoring him for a chapter #Bruce and Alfred weren't involved because plot #also antagonist?? do we smell a bad guy?? or am i a troll?? i guess we'll find out later because even I don't know lmao #mari was just chilling in a field and they all freaked tf out. can't say i blame em thoo #maribat #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #medieval au #are my chapter lengths inconsistent and completely random depending on my mood and amount of inspiration? yes definitely #batman #mlb #mlb crossover #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #Jason gets panic attacks but he tries to hide it fight me #also anyone else worried about how mari will interact with the fam she hasn't met yet? cus i am ngl still gotta figure that whole parade ou #thanks for reading #hope yall enjoyed~ #also I just saw maribat made the top 100 lmao confusing the everloving fuck out of people is my jam #i hope we don't get hate we've been a pretty non-toxic fandom up until this point like srsly man we're nice don't hate us

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Declaring War.”

Hope you guys have a great day,and I hope you enjoy the story. 

“There is only one way that we are ever going to finish this!” The human slammed their fist down atop the table and stood, “There is only one way we are ever going to finish this, and that is to turn our eyes on the home of our enemy. This will not be stopped until we bring hellfire to their home planet! And show them what it means to attack humanity and the GA!”

There was uproar around the council chamber as representatives took to their feet in open protest or support to such a plan. Yelling grew up around them until no one could be heard over the din.

It was only the gavel -- bestowed on the Rundi chairwoman as a gift from one of the human counselors -- that was able to silence the crowd. 

“Silence!”

The room quieted only slightly as the chairwoman glanced around at the council chamber, “This is not a decision we should rush blindly into, counselor. This is not a time for blind anger, this is not a time for revenge. This is a time to think carefully and strategically. While the majority of this council supports you in the war effort, we do not support blindly charging in after those who oppose us.”

“With all due respect chairwoman, that is not what we are suggesting either. I am suggesting the logical course of action. The Burg have attacked our homeworld, earth, and it has attacked the groomm homeworld, and if what the Kree are saying is correct, and they were not involved in this attack, which i still doubt, they have come dangerously close to their homeworld as well. They have proven that they have no regard for the rules of intergalactic combat, and if they are going to disregard the rules, they should be treated in accordance.”

“We do not discard the rules just because others will not follow them, counselor.”

The human counselor stood, “To the contrary. The Burg were never a part of the GA, and while they were afforded the protections as an ally of the state, they have since discarded those rights. All laws regarding GA warfare are predicated on the idea that others, even enemies will understand the importance of these codes of combat. No nuclear or fission weapons, no planetary destroying weapons, no intervening with the function of another solar system’s star, and no direct attacks on civilians or a genesis homeworld.” 

She stood and looked down at the other delegates, “Well the burg have attacked two of our homeworld without consequence. They have proven the use of weapons capable of destroying entire fleets, and if the technology is developed, entire worlds. Commander Vir had to die for us to gain that knowledge, and I will not have his sacrifice be in vein.”

There was a shout of agreement from some of the crowd most enthusiastically from the Celzex and the drev.

“I approve the human message.” THe Drev councilor said, standing.

The chairwoman turned to look at the Drev, “I thought your people were not supposed to go to war based on the idea of revenge.”

The Drev shook his silver head, “While we considered the commander one of our own, that is not what we are saying. The burg tactics during battle were dishonorable and cowardly. They went behind our backs to use technology as a means to their ends instead of pure skill. They have proven themselves to be cowards. They have attacked our people on their home planets.” He looked around at the others, “On our planet, though war is not personal, if someone walks into MY house and slays MY brother, than I WILL declare war, because if he gets away with it once without consequence, he will do it again. The Burg have proven time and time again that they can misbehave on the galactic stage and face no consequences.” He turned in a wide circle all four hands out, “And I say that ends here. If they want to attack our homes, let us invade ours. If they want to strike at our morale, let us strike at theirs. If they want us to suffer, than let us show them the meaning of suffering.”

A cheer rose up from part of the room given heartily by the Celzex and especially Lord Celex, who sat on his pedestal next to the Drev commander -- the two of them having gotten along so well in the past.”

Things were hushed for a moment and then one of the Vrul leaders stood, “A stirring speech to be sure, Sentinel, but let us look at this in a more logical manner. Taking a war to them would be both impractical and costly. The resources we would alone are astronomical. yes , it is sad that we lost Commander Vir, and it is also sad that we lost Dr. krill, a member of my own species, but one man and a single ship is not worth a war.”

A tesraki from across the room snorted, “You are delusional if you think the burg will think the same. What happens when they decide to invade your planet. Do you wish us to just stand idly by and not waste resources.”

The Vrul stood straighter, “Do not take us for fools, we all know that the terasaki simply want war to be able to profit from it.”

The Tesraki stood fists clenched, “I would watch what comes out of our mouth, counselor! For I have thought this through where you have not. If we do not strike at the Burg where they are weak, then they will return,and next time it will be my home planet, my children, and my grandchildren…. But of course you wouldn’t know about that would you, being from a species that systematically slaughters their own people when they aren't useful anymore!”

The gavel slammed down again filling the room with it’s ringing, “That is enough! I will not have. Speciesist sentiments spouted in my counsel chambers.  You all should be ashamed.” The counsel woman stood from her seat, “I, and the Rundi people tend to agree with humanity and the Drev. The Burg have gone to far, and they must have a punishment equal to their attacks. If nothing we should work to ride to their home planet and threaten them directly. If they do not see the logic in surrendering, than we shall move forward with plans.” She turned to look at the Vrul counselor, “Your people are not being asked to join us or even support us. You are simply being asked to accept our decision and not interfere with the war going forward.”

There was more muttered agreement around the hall.

The GA had just declared war on the Burg nation.

*** 

Sunny stood alone on the Tarmac. This part of the military base was old, and no longer much used. It had rained earlier in the day leaving the tarmac wet and filling the air with a fresh cleansing smell that scrubbed out the holes at the base of her neck and her throat.

She looked down at her handiwork.

It wasn’t so bad if she did say so herself, though she hardly doubted the GA would let her fly it… not that she planned on asking for permission.

“It was a ship, sort of. One that she had reclaimed from an old junkyard and had dragged out here to fix. Once upon a time someone had declared the thing unusable, but she knew better, and as a talented engineer she had proven them wrong. It wasn’t a large ship, mind you. It might hold up to thirty people if given the chance, though she didn’t see that being much of a possibility. This was something she found she would probably do alone.

She sighed and turned to look at the fading sky, head tilted back. In one hand she held her long spear, and in the other she hald a short spear…. Made once for someone else.

She sighed and barely heard it as the footsteps approached from behind, pausing at her shoulder.

“IS this what it felt like for you?” She wondered 

Cannon shifted where he stood, “Maybe a little.”

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

“Feels like I can’t breathe… Its cold.”

“I know.”

She turned to look at her brother, towering a good three feet over her, “I have to do this.”

Cannon didn’t look convinced.

“You know I have to.” 

“That’s what mother said.”

Sunny went stiff her eyes falling on him.

He sighed, “I just want to make sure you don’t turn into her, which…. Is why I am coming with you.”

She stopped in surprise, and he smiled, “Don’t think I don’t know what you are planning, and I want to join…. In fact, there are a few other people who insisted on coming too.” He glanced over her shoulder, and she spun on her heels, watching as a group of figures marched up the tarmac.

She recognized a good few of them, Narobi, Ramirez, Maverick, Conn, being those in the first line.

They walked up and Ramirez gave her a sort of half smile, “Mav and I thought you could use some muscle.”

Narobi nodded, “and someone to keep this hunk of junk in the air” Conn ignored the greetings and floated past her, “This thing is trash.” he commented looking over her ship.

Sunny frowned but ignored him mostly.

When the group of them stepped aside, she was surprised to find Katie marching abroad with a large suitcase, “You idiots are going to need a doctor if this is going to work.” She turned, “Also, I brought someone to pilot this thing.”

Sunny’s heart immediately fell at the thought. It was true she needed a pilot, but thinking about that reminded her acutely of how Adam was missing.

The young man walked forward, even younger than Adam, no more than a boy, but she recognized him as one of the recruits who had been involved in the last engagement with the burg. He raised a hand in salute face serious, “Lt. McCaster at your service.” He paused, “I know I cant fly like the commander did, but I learned a lot from him, so I hope it will be enough.”

He stepped past.

There were two more figures left, standing outside on the field. They were both wearing uniforms though something seemed rather off about all of it. Hats covered their eyes.

Sunny looked down in confusion, until one of the figures raised her head to look sunny in the face.

Bright grey eyes and honey blond hair.

“Martha!” 

She put a finger to her lips, eyes serious, “I can’t stay long.” She said quietly, and we had to sneak onto base.” She paused to look at Sunny, “I wish I could go with you, but I have to stay here…. I have too many other people to take care of.” But I brought someone with me who I couldnt talk out of coming.”

Sunny  looked over, and watched as the other pulled back his hat.

She barely recognized Thomas with his hair cut so short.

“Keep him safe, I don’t want another one of my sons gone.” She looked up at Sunny, “You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Sunny nodded seriously.”

Martha nodded back

Thomas looked around at everyone, and Sunny found it hard to look at him. He had Adam’s nose and eyes, though his face shape was different, “Look, I havent done a whole lot of worthwhile things in my life, but I, well, no one messes with my family, and that's the honest to god truth of it, so I… I’m here to help.”

There was a small chorus of approval from the rest of the group.

Sunny was about to turn and address them all when another group of figures marched up the tarmac.

She knew Drev when she saw them, and she was surprised to see A hunched figured at their head.

“Hijan?” She said quietly

Martha turned on the spot as the wizened old Drev walked up, A white cape billowing from her shoulder, a spear in either upper hand. It seemed odd to see her like thta, and with a universal translator in her ear no less, “Do you have room for a few more?”

Sunny nodded a bit dumbstruck, while Martha stepped forward, pushing back her cap a little more.

“Hijan…. You took care of my son on Anin?”

The old Drev warrior looked down at the small human almost four feet shorter than her. “Your son in blood my son in spirit.”

Martha smiled, “Than from one mother to another….. Make sure his disappearance was not in vein.”

Hijan raised her spear, “To my last breath.”

***

I lay on the soft padded floor feeling the gentle rocking and listening to the sound of the pulsing alien engines. What I lay on was some kind of white cotton or, moss sort of substance, but whatever it was it was nice, and helped to soothe my aching back.

The alien creature looked over at me, or at least I think it did.

It was a strange creature, about seven feet tall and mat grey. It had five large legs and a small protrusion on the top of its body. My most accurate comparison would be the Hexapods from that old movie Arrival or the Omnidroid from the first incredibles movie. It was so completely alien that I wasn’t even sure how the thing communicated, though it was nice enough to me at least.

They had found me shortly after my run in with the blue raptor thing, and stumbling through the bushes I had looked up only to see a group of these things surrounding me. Obviously I had been freaked out, like pee your pants and scream like a little girl kind of freaked out, but they had been slow and almost gentle, and once I had let them forward they had sealed my wounds.

They even let me keep my things when I was bundled aboard their strange alien ship, nothing more than a hovering silver ball over the sand. I was put into this strange room while one of them watched over me.

It was nice, soft, and comfortable, though I was loath to think of the radio that I had dropped somewhere back on the planet, though I still had the knife and the broken spearhead.

I lay back quietly on the padding eyes mostly closed.

I was weak from blood-loss and the pain, so I only partially noticed as an opening appeared on the opposite wall and another one of the creatures walked in. of a moment I could see across the hall and into a similar room to mine before the wall was sealed.

I watched the two Omnidroids communicate with each other, hearing nothing more than a very deep rumble, which was so powerful it seemed to shake my bones.

No way I was going to understand that.

Somehow, the rumbling was rather soothing, and I closed my eyes just to listen.

I was sure now that wherever that wormhole had taken me, it wasn’t anywhere I was familiar with. The GA had no record of the Omnidroids, and if they did I would have been the first to know about it, not because I was important enough for them to tell, but because I was a nerd for new aliens.

Now all that remained was one question.

Where were they taking me, and what were they going to do?