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valeskafics · 7 months

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"Someday, My Prince Will Come" - Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

a/n: inspired by an ask from @dreamlandcreations - dark snow white au with aemond as the hunter and prince combined 🤭

Summary: Aemond finds himself unable to kill you when commanded to do so by his mother.

TW: canon typical incest, DUBCON, dark/possessive/yandere behavior, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, primal play (chase), size kink if you squint, knifeplay, fingering, tiddy succin, p in v sex, breeding kink if you squint, idk attempted murder?, graphic imagery

Word Count: 3,620 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

Queen Alicent was not always described or cruel or wicked. Once, she was a kindhearted young woman who merely sought to please her father. But the years twisted her into something else entirely, a puppet to her father’s machinations who listened to everything he demanded without fail.

Otto Hightower knew from the moment you were born that you were going to prove to be a thorn in his side. A sweet, pretty young thing who seemed to enchant everyone around her, his grandsons were no exception. He watched with thinly veiled frustration as Aegon and Aemond both fawn over you, fighting for your attention. However, it is Aemond who prevails. As you grow in age and beauty, Aemond’s admiration seems to grow too. Otto cannot hide his relief when your mother takes you and the rest of the family to Dragonstone, far away from his grandson and unable to twist his mind or alienate him from his family any longer.

However, when you accompany your mother and brothers to King’s Landing for the hearing regarding Lucerys’ inheritance, Otto sees the way you and Aemond continuously exchange glances from across the room, the attraction between the two of you evident. You have grown into quite the fine young woman, Otto has to admit, and he is not altogether surprised when at dinner that evening, Aemond asks you to dance. The two of you glide across the floor, smiling and gazing into each other’s eyes as though nothing in the world matters. He sees all of his plans going down in flames before his very eyes in real time. Aemond had always fancied you, ever since you were children, and nothing has changed about that. His desires have only grown.

Aemond is falling in love with you.

Surprisingly, with you at his side, Aemond does not even bother to respond to your little brother’s smirk upon the roast pig being brought to the table. Why? Because you, in all your wisdom, gently scold the younger boy, asking him to apologize. And he does, much to Aemond’s surprise, creating a strange sense of peace between the youths of the family. Aemond continues to gaze at you throughout dinner, a softness on his face that his grandfather has never seen.

When Viserys dies in the night and Aemond goes to comfort you rather than his bereaved mother, Otto knows that he must do something to get rid of you before it is too late. He tells his daughter, his sweet obedient daughter, as much and the two hatch a plan.

“Aemond, escort your mother to her chambers,” Otto orders, giving him a sharp look after the funerary proceedings are complete.

Aemond looks to you for guidance, uncertain, but you give him a sweet smile, telling him you must go to your mother and stepfather as well. He presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand before striding over to his mother and grandsire. The three walk to Alicent’s chambers in uncomfortable silence. They enter Alicent’s solar and she gestures for Aemond to sit down beside her, her most beloved son, her most obedient son. He does as she asks, and is horrified by her words.

“I want you to lead the princess deep into the Kingswood tomorrow,” Alicent says, handing him an ornate box, “And cut out her heart and bring it back to me.”

Aemond’s stomach drops at the mere thought. You are sweet and innocent and all that is good in the world. What had you ever done to deserve such a cruel fate? He clenches his fists, feeling his blood boil at even the mention of such a horrendous act.

“What?” Aemond shakes his head vehemently before blurting out, “I will not! She is my closest friend, my childhood love. I could not bear to think of doing such a thing to her, Mother!”

She gives him a red apple, so vibrant in color that he wonders if it is even real, “You will use this. She will feel no, pain, Aemond. And you will carve out her heart once she has breathed her last breath.

“Never!”

Alicent speaks with no small degree of finality as she leaves the room, accompanied by her father, “You will. Tomorrow.”

Aemond falls to his knees, clutching his chest. His hands tremble as he holds the box,, his heart racing. You are everything to him, everything he ever wanted. To be ordered to murder you is just unacceptable.

The next day, Aemond leads you into the Kingswood, his hand in yours as you giggle and ask in that sweet, musical voice of yours, “Where are we going, Aemond?”

“Just to the woods,” he says softly as the two of you make your way to the edge of the Kingswood.

He takes the apple out of his pocket, seeing Ser Criston watching in the near distance, no doubt sent by his mother to ensure he completes his task. He hands the fruit to you, urging you to eat it.

“Oh, I love apples, thank you, Aemond,” you smile at him innocently, gazing up at him with those sweet eyes he has always loved looking into.

Aemond’s heart pounds in his chest as you speak and he cannot help but feel an almost animal instinct to protect you. And something inside of him snaps. He will not let you be hurt. Not by his mother, not by his grandsire, not by anyone. He grabs the apple from your hand and tosses it aside.

You stare at him in confusion, “Aemond?”

“Saw a worm,” he mutters darkly, “Excuse me for a moment.”

You stand there, confused, waiting for him to return. When he does, there is a streak of blood covering his face. Blood that is not his own.

Blood that, unbeknownst to you, belongs to Ser Criston Cole.

His jaw set in determination as he grabs your hand, “We are leaving. Right now.”

You stare at him confused as he drags you further into the woods, “Aemond? What is happening? You’re frightening me…”

The prince knows what he is doing may seem rash to you, but he feels it is the only choice he has. He refuses to let you die. He can’t help but admire the look on your face for a moment, the way your brow furrows ever so slightly, the slight downturn of your lips. You are an angel, he thinks, when you look at him like that. The hunger he feels for you, that he has always felt for you, stirs again as he stops in place and tells you the truth.

“My mother has commanded me to murder you.”

Your delicate hand flies to your mouth in surprise, “No… She wouldn’t do that… She is a good and kind queen…”

Aemond laughs bitterly at your naivety, at the thought of his mother being kind and good. He knows all too well the depths of her cruelty now, and that of his grandsire.

“She demands your head,” Aemond informs you, “I am supposed to meet her tomorrow with your heart after poisoning you with the apple I was meant to give you.”

Your hand moves to rest over your heart, eyes wide with fear as you whisper, “My heart? You were going to kill me?”

Aemond’s gaze falls to your hand once again. Your lovely hands, so soft and small against his. The hunger eats at him even fiercer as he nods.

“Yes, your heart. But I cannot do it. I could never do that to you, sweet princess,” he whispers, taking a step toward you, his breathing growing ragged, “Gods, I just want you. So badly it drives me mad. My need for you utterly consumes me.”

You step backward, away from him, “Aemond, you’re scaring me.”

Aemond feels his temper flare at your hesitation. Why do you not understand? You are his princess, his love, his passion. You belong to him. You have always belonged to him.

“You should be scared,” Aemond breathes, “Because if you refuse me and go to someone else, I might just cut your heart out myself,” his gaze is heated as he stares at you, “I will never let anyone take you away from me. Not ever. You belong to me and me alone.”

Your eyes go wide and, without a second thought, you break into a run. Aemond watches you dart away, shocked for a moment. Are you actually running away from him? He lets out a low growl before running after you, his desire for you growing more ferocious with each second.

“You do not truly think you can run from me, do you, Princess? I won’t have it!”

You ignore his words, dodging branches and tree stumps as you go, panting heavily, moving as fast as your legs can carry you. You can hear his heavy footsteps approaching you, gaining on you, and it spurs you on to move even faster, blood pumping, heart pounding as you go.

“You cannot run forever!” Aemond bellows after you, giving chase, growing almost insane with want, “Eventually you will have to face me!”

The sky begins to grow darker and you continue running deeper into the woods. The trees seem so very frightening at night as branches catch on your skirt, tearing at it as though they are the fingers of some strange creature, trying to keep you in place so Aemond may catch you. You run for as long and as fast as you can before hiding, sitting with your knees to your chest and weeping with fear. Aemond stalks the forest, breath heavy as he scans the area for any sight of you, his dagger in hand. You cannot be far off, he thinks, he will find you no matter what it takes.

Aemond grows more and more desperate, his eye blazing with want. Nothing matters but you, nothing matters but finding you and making you his.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he chuckles darkly, a mockery of the games the two of you used to play as children.

You let out a whimper before slapping your hand over your mouth. Aemond hears the sweet little sound, almost like the cooing of an injured bird. He is unsure whether he wishes to console you or devour you alive. He follows the sound, lips curving into a smile as he stands over you, his form towering over yours.

“There you are, Princess. Told you that you couldn’t run forever.”

You gasp, leaping to your feet and getting ready to sprint again, but alas, you are not fast enough. Aemond grabs you immediately by the wrists, pinning you against a tree, the fire inside of him burning hotter than ever as he looks upon you. He cannot stay away from you. He needs you, to be close to you. He wants you, your soft skin, your supple body. His mouth waters at the thought.

You gaze up at him with watery eyes, which only make him want you more as you beg, “Let me go, Aemond, please!”

“No, never,” he smirks down at you, his eye raking over you, “I will not let anyone else ever have you. I want you. Only you.” Aemond leans in closer, his breath hot on your skin. Gods, he wants nothing more than to kiss those plush, sweet lips of yours, “You are mine, Princess,” he whispers, “You will always be mine.”

You scream for Jace, for Luke, for your mother or Daemon, but no one comes. Aemond has you right where he wants you. He presses his body against yours, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent deeply.

“I want to kiss you, to hold you,” he murmurs, body trembling. Everything inside of him screams at him to touch you, to take you, to devour you, “Gods, I want you, beautiful princess, and I will have you.”

Your lips part in protest as he draws ever closer to you, but he silences you with a hungry kiss, one of pure desperation. His touch is rough as he moves his hands away from your wrists to hold your hips, squeezing your supple flesh, moving up to your waist.

“Oh, my love, how I have dreamt of this very moment,” Aemond rasps in your ear.

His heart races, his every movement, every touch, every kiss fueled by the fire of his hunger for you. You, who belong to him and only to him. You slap at his chest now that your hands are free, but it does not do a thing to stop him. He feels your slaps, smiling at them, his desire for you only growing. You fight back and yet you are so soft and delicate. His hands glide across your skin, not wanting to leave a single inch of your body untouched.

“You are mine now,” he breathes in your ear, breath tickling your skin, “This is where you belong. In my arms, in my bed.”

“No,” you protest, crying out as he bites down on your neck, “Aemond, please!”

He shushes you, laving attention on your bruised skin with his tongue, “Stop resisting. You and I both know you are enjoying this,” Aemond says, voice dripping like honey in your ears as he kisses you, “You belong to me. No one else will ever hold you like this.”

You gasp in surprise as he uses his dagger to rip the bodice of your dress open, along with your shift, revealing your bare body to him, his eye finding your breasts as he licks his lips almost greedily, “Stop it!”

Aemond pushes the fabric off your body, moving your hands away when you try to cover yourself, holding the blade to your neck. His free hand moves to one of your breasts, groaning as he kneads it in his rough palms. You hate yourself for it, but you feel your body grow hot under his touch, as he touches the most intimate parts of you. You know you must be wet between your thighs with how they rub against each other unconsciously, and Aemond seems to know as well, judging by the wicked smile on his face.

“How could I have ever thought you did not enjoy this?” he mocks, “You are mine, sweet princess. I have wanted this ever since we were young. You are mine, now and forever.”

You gasp as he moves lower, his long fingers grazing against your bare cunt, collecting the wetness that has pooled there, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you, his eye closing as he moans with delight. You press your lips together, trying not to show how the sight of it arouses you.

“Please stop,” you whisper weakly as he kisses your neck, moving to your chest, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, mouthing at it, that piercing blue eye locked on you all the while.

He continues his ministrations, switching to your other breast once your peak has hardened against his tongue, pulling off with a lewd pop as he murmurs, “Do not play your games with me. You may pretend you do not want this, Princess, but we both know the truth. Your sweet little cunny would not have been dripping as it is if you did not want me,” he presses his lips to yours once more, feverishly, pulling back only to say, “You will know nothing but me because I am all you will ever need. All you will ever want.”

“I am not playing games-”

Aemond shushes you, “No more talking. Just feeling. Feeling how you belong to me. How you have always belonged to me. Do not resist. I will not let you. I want you and I am taking you.”

You whine softly as he drops his knife, using one of his hands to hold you by the throat, squeezing slightly. Your eyes flutter shut at his touch as he pushes you onto the forest floor. He rids himself of his tunic, tossing it aside, revealing the broad planes of his chest to you, his skin so pale in the moonlight it seems to have an almost ethereal glow.

“I claimed you a long time ago,” he says, removing his eyepatch, staring at you with his one eye, his sapphire twinkling, “And you are going nowhere. I can feel your want for me and everyone in the Seven Kingdoms will know of our love when I make you my bride.”

You look at him confused, “But your mother wants me dead-”

“She can go to the Seven Hells,” Aemond snarls, growing more desperate as he kisses you once more, undoing his breeches.

You stare up at him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body, lips parted slightly, eyes teary, and your chest heaving with each breath. He does not think you have ever looked so beautiful. Aemond moves his fingers to tease your entrance once more, his thumb rubbing against your sensitive pearl in a way that has you crying out his name, leaning into his touch. He pushes one finger inside of you, loving the way you squeeze around him, then adding a second. It’s a tight fit, but gods, when he starts pumping his fingers, it takes everything in you not to scream with pleasure.

“Just relax,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, silvery hair falling like a curtain over the pair of you, “Let me have you.”

He moves his fingers faster and faster, his thumb still rubbing at your pearl. He curves his fingers ever so slightly and you mewl his name as he brushes against that spot inside of you that has always made you reach your peak at your own hands. Aemond chuckles, touching you there over and over and over again until you spill yourself on his fingers. Your lips part without question when he brings his fingers to your mouth, wrapping around the digits, licking them clean at his demand. Aemond imagines how it will feel with that pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, but that will have to be saved for another time. He is impossibly hard, aching for you, and must claim you now.

You feel his length, hard and heavy against your thigh, biting your lip in both fear and anticipation. The tip is a red, angry color, evidence of his arousal leaking from the tip. You whimper as he pushes himself inside you, feeling every vein against your walls, until he bottoms out, fully sheathed in you. The sting is uncomfortable though not quite painful. You squirm against him, but Aemond holds you in place.

“Tell me that you want me,” he growls in your ear as he begins rutting against you, “That you want this. Tell me you belong to me.”

“No,” you say uncertainly, moaning as your slight discomfort begins to turn to pleasure as he fills you up in a way that has you wanting more.

“I can feel your body quivering with want,” Aemond whispers against your neck, his voice husky as he speaks, “Give in to this. Give in to me. Tell me you want me and I shall give you the universe.” You try to turn your face from his, the intensity in his gaze frightening you, prompting you to shiver, but he moves you back to face him again, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he continues fucking into you, his cock bullying against your sweet spot with every thrust, “Do not pretend you don’t feel the same hunger I feel. You. Are. Mine,” he punctuates each word with a thrust of his hips more feverish than the last, words dark as the night sky.

His movements grow more animalistic and frenzied the closer he gets to his peak, the tighter you squeeze around him as you cling to him for some sort of purchase. His voice is raw as he keeps repeating the same word.

“Mine.”

Tears stream down your face at both the pleasure he gives you and the shame of what is happening, the shame of you not fighting harder to stop it because he is right. You want it.

You freeze as he licks one of your tears away and whisper, “You’re a monster.”

“Am I?” he hisses, feeling your walls squeezing around him, his hunger growing more desperate as his hands squeeze at your breasts, your hips, anything he can touch, “I am your monster. And do you know what a monster wants the most?” Aemond breathes against your lips before kissing you again, “It wants to devour.”

You whimper, eyes fluttering as you near your peak once more, whispering unconvincingly how you hate him, how you despise him and everything about him.

“You love me,” he shakes his head, “You need me. Just relax. Let yourself go…”

And you do, reaching your peak, eyes rolling back as your body spasms, white hot pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave. Aemond spends himself in you soon after, his seed leaking from between your thighs, something he watches with great interest. He stares at you, exhausted, hair matted to your forehead, thinking how beautiful you are.

He says as much, groaning before adding, voice hoarse with lust, “You drive me insane. I will kill my grandsire and my mother if it means keeping you safe and by my side, my love.”

You gaze up at him, hesitant and unsure for a moment, before leaning in and pressing your lips to his, sealing your fate, binding yourself to him forever.

Because now that he has you, now that you have affirmed that you are his, there is no escaping your monster. Your prince.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #house of the dragon #my writing #fairytale au #targcest #strong!reader #aemond oneshot

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iovesia · 1 year

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IN THIS DARKNESS.

❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( keanu reeves masterlist. & gif credit. )

synopsis : sfw & nsfw dating john wick headcanons.

warnings: fluff. breaking up. angst. smut. canon typical violence.

pairings : john wick 𝒙 fem!reader.

josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ holy fuckkkk, the new john wick movie ignited something in me. i was straight up biting my lip off in the movie theater. enjoy these little headcanons while i try to come up with an actual fic. your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the warnings and enjoy! — reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated !! ♡

⠀

SFW.

Number #1 Gentleman™. Outside of his profession, he’s quite literally the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, and he'll really try to woo you when you first start dating.

Like, holding the door open for you, carrying your bags, giving you his jacket when you’re cold, paying for dinners, and even buying you expensive gifts.

This man is 100% loaded. Expect him to be buying you all kinds of trinkets and gifts. Whenever he notices you staring at something, or briefly mentions something, he’ll remember it forever.

John is super observational, he notices all the little things. His quietness (and lowkey awkwardness) make him an amazing listener. Because he lives such a chaotic life, in contrast to the one with you— he loves to listen to you ramble about everyday shenanigans.

He has a dry ass sense of humor.

Pet names consist of: sweet girl, and honey. He's a little old-timey like that.

Super protective over you. Like, second shadow level protective— man will not let you out of his sight. He's lost so much in his life, and after Helen, he just can't stand the thought of ever losing you.

While he would try to stay out of fights when he's around you, he'd wouldn't take shit from anyone who tried something with you. He's John Wick after all, so trust that he'd kick their ass.

Not a fan of PDA, and gets a little awkward about it in the early days of your relationship. Growing up in the Ruska Roma, physical affection wasn't exactly number one priority. So he's a little surprised (and touch-starved) when he notices how clingy you are.

Always walking his his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Random sidenote, but I headcanon that John is warm all the time. Mans is a walking furnace.

You spend all your nights tangled in each others arms. He's always the big spoon, letting you rest your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat as he encapsulates you with his strong arms.

John loves having you sit in his lap. The two of you could spend hours together, even if it was in silence, just enjoying each others loving embrace.

You end up getting a dog together, and you constantly tease John for his terrible choice in names.

"John, c'mon, don't be boring!" You giggle as you kneel down, rubbing the cheeks of the cutest pit bull you've ever seen. "We can't name the dog, Dog."

"You have any better ideas?" John smirks, kneeling down next to you, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

It'll take a while before he talks about his past and profession with you. He doesn't want to inadvertently drag you into his life of crime, and put you in any danger.

But, soon enough, the walls will lower and he'll let his guard down. John will confess secrets about himself, bit by bit.

It'll be on a random night, when you start tracing his tattoos with your finger. In a quiet whisper, you'll ask him what the one on his back means.

"Fortune favors the bold," he whispers with a raspy voice, his thumb rubbing your forearm, as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. "I got it when I was younger."

You always ask him to teach you some moves, and he's happy to do so, under the guise that it's for self-defense (and not at all that his muscles and figure look amazing when he's doing martial arts).

He can only keep running from the assassin life for so long, until it eventually comes to bite him in the ass. So to protect you, he forces himself to break up with you.

John, unfortunately, carries a large sense of self-loathing. He thinks and knows he doesn't deserve you. For the heinous things, he's done, he knew it was too good to be true.

You cry, and beg him to explain why he's doing this. But, in true John nature, he holds himself together and presses a soft kiss to your forehead before walking out.

You don't see him crumbling, and breaking down as he shuts the door behind him.

⠀

NSFW.

Size kink. Size kink. Size. Kink.

John is 6'1, so you'll be climbing this man like a tree.

He loves how big his hands look, when he presses your wrists down on the bed, or when he grabs a handful of your breast.

Missionary position is his favorite. He loves the intimacy, and being as close to you as physically possible.

You wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as he leaves several hickeys along your collarbone— Lord, he can't get enough of it.

Corruption kink, I can't lie.

He's a big, scary, assassin— and his moral integrity is a little murky. John almost gets off on the idea of slowly corrupting you, and turning you into his dirty girl.

He is hung. That's all I have to say.

Again, super possessive. Do not ask him to share, he will shut that down.

For someone who never talks, he's suddenly dirty talking in your ear the whole time. His lips pressed against your ear, mumbling all kinds of things that make your cheeks burn.

"Hmm, what was that?" He hums, sending vibrations through your body. "Tell me what you want, sweet girl."

Breeding kink.

Not fully for the reason of wanting kids (although, he'd love to start a family with you and really settle down), but again for the intimacy.

He loves to mark you with his cum, another result of his total possessive protectiveness of you. You don't miss the way his eyes darken when he empties inside you, watching as it comes pouring out.

#john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick chapter 4 #john wick #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves #john wick 4 #jw4

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littledovesnow · 3 months

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fem!flickerman!reader x coriolanus snow

summary: basically if you were one of the 24 mentors in the 10th hunger games as well as lucky flickerman's younger sister and if you were dating coriolanus snow

a/n: shoutout to me not having a good title for this!!!!! wahoo!!!!!

word count: 2.8k

warnings: canon violence, the usual y’know?

---

“Coryo,” you gasped, locking lips with your boyfriend. “I need to be at Lucky’s soon for dinner. We can’t go any farther.”

Breaking the kiss apart, Coriolanus pecked your lips once more before sitting back on your bed, both of your chests heaving.

You smiled wickedly at him, leaning on your knees to look in the mirror if there were any visible marks, humming when you didn’t find any. “At least he won’t lecture me on protection and safe sex this time.”

Coriolanus choked on a laugh, grabbing his shirt from where it was discarded not long after you two got home from class. “Do you know why he’s inviting you and your parents for dinner?”

Shaking your head, you slipped on the outfit your mother had asked you to wear, watching Coriolanus in the mirror, smiling at him when he looked you up and down.

“He said something about a once-in-a-lifetime chance, I’m sure it’s something absurd like when he invited us all over to show us his parrot.”

“Oh, that was definitely an occasion for dinner.” Coriolanus joked. “You look beautiful.”

Accepting the compliment with a soft “thank you,” you lead Coriolanus out to the front of your family’s home, promising him you’d meet him in the morning before heading to Heavensbee Hall for the Reaping.

“See you tomorrow, Coryo. When we all celebrate the Plinth Prize.” You smiled, teasing him as he departed to the Corso.

---

You rolled your eyes as you heard your older brother trying to get his parrot to imitate your father, each of them nursing glasses of whiskey.

“What silly men, hopefully you’re the brains of the next generation.” You whispered, smiling when baby Caesar babbled as he watched his parents and grandparents gather around the table.

Handing the baby to an Avox, you took your seat next to your mother, acaross from your brother and his wife.

“So, what’s this news that you’ve invited us all over for, Lucretius?” Your mother asked, carefully cutting the steak that was prepared.

“I got the most wonderful invitation from President Ravinstill and Dr. Gaul the other day, regarding this year’s Hunger Games.” Your brother started, wicked smile on his face. “They want to try something new, something to attract more of an audience.”

“Wonderful news, son!” Your father clapped him on the back. The two of them loved being in front of an audience, so this was a dream come true for the younger male.

“They asked you to host? What are you going to do, follow them in the arena? Celebrate their deaths?” You asked, picking your jaw up from the floor.

It was no secret to your family that you weren’t the biggest supporter of the Hunger Games, so this news wasn’t something you thought should be celebrated.

“No, no.” Lucky frowned, hurt that you weren’t in support of him. “Well, frankly, I don’t quite know what they’re going to want me to do. I have some meetings this week with the President and Dr. Gaul, maybe Casca Highbottom if he’s sober enough to make them.”

Snorting, you raised your posca class to the latter half of Lucky’s statement, agreeing that your professor and founder of the Hunger Games tended to rely on morphling a little too much.

“Either way, we’ll be watching in support of you, Lucky.” Your sister-in-law smiled at her husband, causing you to take a rather large sip of the drink in your hand.

---

Coriolanus smiled at you as he met up with you on the front steps of the Academy, lending you his arm. “Good morning, love. How was your evening?”

You wasted no time in telling Coriolanus about your brother’s new resume-builder, keeping your voice low to avoid your classmates’ listening ears. The Capitol was a hive of gossip, and you hated every aspect of it.

“I can’t believe they chose the weatherman for the host.” Coriolanus shook his head, looking down at you. “What did you say when he told you?”

Knowing you weren’t the biggest fan of your family watching the Hunger Games each year, you sighed and plucked a glass of posca off of an Avox’s tray. “I just asked if he was expected to join the tributes in the arena, narrate their deaths and celebrate the winner.”

Coriolanus chuckled, gently guiding you to your classmates with a hand on the small of your back. “Come on, let’s see what Arachne is complaining about now.”

---

“Hey, listen you guys, I know there’s talk about it, but there’s no Plinth Prize today, not anymore.” Sejanus whispered to you and Coriolanus, guilt written all over his face.

“What?” Coriolanus asked, freezing at the news.

Before he could say anything else, everyone was ushered to Heavensbee Hall, top two dozen students taking seats in the front of the room.

Your hand was threaded through your boyfriend’s, thumb rubbing softly across Coriolanus’ hand, grounding him.

Dr. Gaul waltzed to the podium, icy eyes staring at each and every one of the students before she began her speech. Your mind drifted elsewhere after her mention of today being an “auspicious day.”

If there was no Plinth Prize, Coriolanus wouldn’t be able to afford University, wouldn’t be able to afford rent, meals, life. You had offered to lend him money for rent dozens of times, but both he and Tigris were too kind to accept it.

A gentle squeeze of your hand drew your attention back to the present, glancing at your boyfriend.

He was chewing on his bottom lip, listening intently as Dr. Gaul introduced Dean Highbottom, letting him announce the changes to this year’s Hunger Games.

Expecting it to be the announcement of your brother hosting, you felt the air leave your lungs when he mentioned a mentorship between the top 24 students and the 24 tributes. “The Plinth Prize will be awarded to the best mentor of the Games.”

“Well, surely the best mentor will be the one who’s tribute wins the Games, no?” Festus Creed asked.

“Victory will not be the only measurement we analyze for the Plinth Prize, Mr. Creed. You are to make spectacles out of your opponents, not victors.”

“What if I end up with a runt girl from one of the poor districts, like 8 or 12? They’re just going to die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before.”

Rolling your eyes at Arachne’s whine, you did have to admit that she had a point. Those with stronger tributes had a much greater chance to creating a spectacle out of of their tribute, thus a much greater chance at winning the Plinth Prize.

As the trumpets played and the screens were brought to life, you spared one look at Sejanus as you looked past your boyfriend.

Sejanus mouthed an apology when he caught your gaze, moving his legs to let Highbottom take a seat on the step in front of them.

You watched on the large screens as tributes were called district by district, cheers coming from your classmates as the first districts were announced.

Dean Highbottom looked back at you when he rattled off your name, announcing the male tribute from District 10 as the one you would mentor.

Coriolanus nodded once he heard your name, though you could see the nervous beads of sweat on his forehead, his name had yet to be called.

“Oh, you’ll like this Ms. Crane,” Highbottom teased, looking back at the girl. “District 12, the runt girl, she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

Your head whipped over to look at your boyfriend, his gaze locked on the screen as he watched the girl who would be his tribute get selected.

Turning your attention to the screen, you were mesmerized when the girl veered off the path to the stage and dropped something down the back of another, squinting as the cameras just barely focused on the snake as it slithered out of the dress and off screen.

“What is that dress, is she some sort of clown?”

Arachne’s judgements and comments were background noise, as you and Coriolanus were both watching the girl as she commanded the stage, voice picking up as she began to sing.

“You can kiss my ass!”

Laugher broke the silence of Heavensbee Hall, and Coriolanus looked at you with a smirk on his face.

His tribute had succeeded at one thing, she was certainly going to be a spectacle for the Games. ---

That evening, you had stopped at your home only for a moment to change into something more casual, before meeting Coriolanus at the steps to his apartment, the two of you walking up the dozen flights of stairs to the penthouse.

“When I’m president, I’m going to get that ladder fixed. Perhaps glass walls to see the landscape.”

You chuckled at your boyfriend’s comment, thanking him as he let you enter the home before him.

“What are you thinking for your tribute?” You asked, smiling at Tigris and the Grandma’am as they welcomed you to their home.

Coriolanus shrugged, depositing his school bag near the door. “I need her to sing again. You saw her, she’s malnourished, underfed.”

You bit your tongue as you subtly looked your boyfriend up and down. He wasn’t one to talk on being underfed.

“Well,” Tigris said, pulling a chair out at the table and sitting next to you, both of you watching Coriolanus pluck petals off of the rose in his hands. “I wouldn’t sing for you if I was her.”

You stayed silent as the cousins argued, Tigris pulling out on top when Coriolanus gave up retorting to her comments, pulling you back into his room instead.

“What are you planning, Coriolanus Snow?” You asked, knowing the look on his face all too well.

“I’m going to meet her at the Captiol station when they arrive in town.”

Gawking, you sat with your legs crossed and watched Coriolanus change into his night attire, frowning at his visible ribs. “You’re going to meet her?”

“I am, you can meet your tribute if you come with.”

At the suggestion of meeting your tribute Tanner, you reminded yourself, you could get an edge in knowing him and figuring out to how “make a spectacle” of him.

“Well, it would be unwise for you to go alone, power in numbers and all that, right?” You asked, smile on your face.

Coriolanus laughed as he joined you on the bed, pulling the ratty, patched-up comforter over the two of you.

---

You stuck close to your boyfriend as you two approached the train station, Coriolanus moving to stand between you and the tracks.

“What time did the sign say the train would get here?” You asked, not wanting to stick around in this part of the Captiol any longer than necessary.

Coriolanus, who was fiddling with the long-stemmed rose in his hand, looked at the increasing number of Peacekeepers at the edge of the platform. “My guess is pretty soon.”

You two waited for only a moment before you heard the train approaching, both wincing as the breaks squeaked awfully loud.

The Peacekeepers paid the two of you no mind as they opened doors to cars, the tributes hopping out once they were able.

Coriolanus nodded over to your tribute, and you squeezed his hand before departing.

He watched you introduce yourself to Tanner, the boy looking nervous but thankful that at least one person in the Captiol was being kind to him.

Focusing on his own tribute, Coriolanus smiled as he walked up to Lucy Gray. “Welcome to the Capitol.”

He handed her the rose, which had been your idea at breakfast, and the girl plucked a petal off and stuck it in her mouth, mentioning it “tasted like bedtime.”

“You look like you shouldn’t be here.” She said, gaze moving to you as you joined the two of them, wrapping your arms around one of Coriolanus’.

“Well, we shouldn’t be.” You smiled, introducing yourself.

The three of you couldn’t get too far into a conversion before Peacekeepers were shoving the rest of the tributes into the back of a truck.

“Let’s go with them.” You suggested, and Coriolanus shocked you by not putting up an argument. Perhaps the Plinth Prize lowered his inhibitions.

The two of you watched as the Peacekeepers went after one of the tributes who made a break for it at the rear of the truck, taking the opportunity to hop in along with the tributes.

Once the door closed, the two dozen tributes looked at you two like hungry animals.

“What’s wrong, in the wrong cage?”

Coriolanus pushed you behind him, replying that the cage they were in was delightful.

In the blink of an eye one of the tributes was up against the two of you, threatening to kill you.

“He’ll do it, too. Reaper killed a Peacekeeper back in 11.”

Your heart was in your throat, grip on Coriolanus’ uniform jacket tight as a vice, until Lucy Gray spoke up.

“You got family back home? You touch either of them and the Capitol will kill your family. Then you. Besides, blonde one is my mentor.”

At her comment, the tributes started arguing why Lucy Gray and Tanner got mentors.

Coriolanus explained that everyone did but was cut off when a back-up alarm started blaring.

The rear of the truck you were all in started dipping, and Coriolanus wrapped an arm around you and gripped on the edge of the truck, though it didn’t work too well.

Everyone tumbled out of the truck, a yelp coming out of your mouth when your knee collided with a large rock in the enclosure.

“You okay?” Coriolanus asked, dusting himself off as he stood up, worried gaze on you.

Nodding, you stood up, favoring your left knee. “Ow, maybe not 100% fine.”

Coriolanus wrapped an arm around you, taking most of your weight, and Lucy Gray frowned when she walked over to you two.

“Are y’all okay?” She asked, though her gaze was looking elsewhere.

You followed her gaze, face dropping when you saw your brother’s back turned to you, speaking into the cameras. “-in the gem of Panem? That’s an Academy rouge, no?”

Coriolanus looked down at you, knowing what was going on in your mind. “Lucy Gray,” he turned to the brunette, “would you like to meet our neighbors?”

Lucky persisted to get your attention, though when he realized who was in the zoo’s enclosure, his on-air persona faltered. “Wh-what are you two doing in there?”

You grunted as Coriolanus helped you to the edge of the enclosure, both of you introducing Lucy Gray. “Tanner, my tribute, he’s back helping his district-mate.”

“Are you okay?” Lucky asked, not listening while Lucy Gray talked to a young girl about her dress.

“I’ll be fine, Lucky. Meet Lucy Gray.”

Lucky, ever the showman, interviewed Lucy Gray, though you could see him watching you out of the corner of his eye, seeing you still leaning on your boyfriend.

Coriolanus, when asked if you two were told to hop in the enclosure, mentioned that if Lucy Gray was brave enough, you two were, as well.

“For the record, I didn’t have a choice.” Lucy Gray quipped, smile on her face.

Lucky saw the Peacekeepers approaching, nodding towards them. “Well, for the record, I think you two are about to be escorted out.”

You looked back to see the armed men approaching, eyes widening.

“Be careful with her!” Coriolanus commanded as you two were separated, the Peacekeepers not noticing your injured knee.

---

Due to your injury, you were permitted to miss the rest of the day at the Academy, with strict instructions to keep off of your leg for a couple weeks.

Coriolanus had gracefully brought your schoolwork, sitting next to you on the couch to discuss strategies for the Hunger Games.

“What in the gem of Panem was that circus act earlier?” Lucky asked, storming into his former home.

You and Coriolanus shared a look, having the same thought.

“Lucky, dear brother, they told us to make spectacles of the tributes. What better spectacle than us joining them?” You asked. “Nothing bad happened.”

Lucky looked at your face, down at your knee, and then back up. “Nothing bad?”

“Pfft, this is nothing, Lucretius. I’ll be fine in a week or so.” You waved off his worries, knowing between Coriolanus and your parents, you would heal perfectly fine.

“Now sit, tell us all about your plans to make the Hunger Games’ first host memorable.”

Lucky dropped into the seat across from the two of you, weaving tales about his plans to bring Jubilee to the Games, even though Highbottom despised the bird.

---

a/n: yuh i loved this i like writing w the reader being lucky's sister maybe perhaps a part 2 in the future!!!

#i need to stop making part 2's of everything #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #hunger games imagine #coriolanus x you #hunger games x reader #hunger games tbosas #coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader

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thefrogdalorian · 11 days

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Nowhere Else To Run

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Despite the fact that sharing a cabin with you and Grogu on Nevarro has given him the peaceful life he was searching for, Din cannot escape the nightmares of his past which haunt him most nights.

Although he feels unworthy of your love, the only time things make sense is when you take him in your arms and dutifully put his pieces back together. Even on nights when he feels he does not deserve it.

Word Count: 3.4k ✯ Rating: Teen ✯ Content Warnings: ✯ PTSD, nightmares, descriptions of canon-typical violence, survivor's guilt, Din feeling unworthy of love, Din's violent past, reader's hands described as being smaller than Din's. Author's Note: I created my blog six months ago, so here is a little Din drabble to celebrate. Title is taken from 'All These Things That I've Done' by The Killers (which is so Din coded) and I also listened to 2 Rocking Chairs by Jon Bellion a lot recently, so that might have inspired some of this too! Really hope you enjoyed it and here's to many more months of Din Djarin brainrot ☺︎

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

On the nights he startles awake, haunted by the nightmarish, twisted visions of the worst things he has done, he is certain that he does not deserve you. With all his evil deeds laid bare as his mind plays cruel tricks on him, Din Djarin remains convinced that he could live a thousand lifetimes and never be worthy of your love.

His eyelids fly open as his bare, muscular chest heaves. His golden skin is covered with a sheen of sweat. Din raises a trembling hand to wipe the moisture from his furrowed brow. Disorientated and afraid in the darkness.

His sharpened senses, honed thanks to his previous life as a bounty hunter, begin to function with all the effectiveness which once led to him being deemed the best in the parsec. He cringes as he remembers his narcissism, disgusted by how dishonourable it was to take pride in such an epithet.

First, Din feels your presence at his side. A warm mass of flesh in the dark, coldness of the night. So close that he could reach out and touch you if only he were not petrified that doing so would shatter your beauty. He yearns to draw comfort from you. Yet, he is too afraid to bring you down to his level, to defile your splendour.

Then, Din hears your soft snores. Truthfully, the sweet sounds you make are not quite snores at all. Merely the even, shallow sounds which indicate that you are peacefully resting. He relaxes slightly, relieved that his unwanted awakening has not disturbed you.

Emboldened by your continued slumber, Din sits up and gazes at you. Your stunning features are barely illuminated by the faint moonlight which streams in through an ill-fitting blind, yet even such a simple glimpse leaves him overwhelmed by your beauty.

As he quietly watches you, Din wonders what he could have done to deserve you in a past life. He certainly is not worthy of you in this one.

How could someone as wicked and treacherous as he ever be worthy of the love you envelop him in each day of your lives?

The guilt creeps in, then. It snakes its horrifying tendrils around Din's entire being and suffocates him under the weight of his regret and his pain.

He feels guilty that he has even found himself in a position to receive love like this in the first place. Especially after everything he has done, all the pain he has caused and contributed to.

Din wonders whether it is cruel to keep you around. To have intertwined his life with yours in the way he has. Surely you deserve someone better than him.

Inviting you to move in with him changed so much for Din. It deepened and strengthened his relationship with you while opening him up to experiences he had missed for much of his life. How to share space with someone else, to show affection and receive it in return.

Sharing a bunk with someone for the first time meant Din could not continue outrunning his past. It was a race that had begun decades prior on the day he lost everything on Aq Vetina, a marathon which continued well into adulthood.

The race was almost won when Din took the job that changed his life and led him to Arvala-7 in the hunt for the bounty who eventually became his son.

Yet it wasn’t until Din found you that he had finally crossed the finish line.

He still remembered the horrified look in your eyes when he awoke for the first time in your presence, thrashing and screaming as the night terrors plagued him. Terrified by the haunting visions that made his past as vivid as though it was happening right before him.

The nightmares are indiscriminate when they strike. Extensive in their scope.

In slumber, Din is confronted with the shameful jobs he took from the most reprehensible individuals in the galaxy, reminded of the ego he once possessed.

He relives how readily he hunted people for his gain, collecting bounties without a care for who he hurt. Who was he to be the law? To be judge, jury and, on occasion, executioner? Din is pained at the memory of the life of sin he led.

Din sees the job on Alzoc III in harrowing detail. The unspeakable acts of violence he had a hand in. As much as he tries to downplay his role and blame the atrocities on the disgusting band of crooks he ran with at the time, deep down, Din knows that he was a willing participant in the barbarity.

He replays the moment when, in a cruel, unforgiving tone, the gold-helmeted woman he had always idolised coldly informed him that he was a Mandalorian no more. Din is tormented time and again by the knowledge that he rendered himself an apostate in the eyes of the people who saved him; who taught him how to live. Being a Mandalorian and swearing the Creed were the only things aside from violence Din had truly ever been successful at. Walking The Way of the Mandalore was the only thing which had brought him anywhere close to achieving inner peace.

But most chillingly of all, Din is reminded of the gravest transgression of his life. An act of cruelty he knows that he will never truly forgive himself for committing, for as long as he lives.

Night after night, Din is haunted by how he had given up the child you both adore beyond comparison, who sleeps peacefully next door, to the Empire for the measly sum of a camtono of Beskar.

Was that truly all Grogu’s life was worth?

Of course, Din knows that there is no sum in the entire galaxy which would prove comparable to how Grogu has enriched his life.

Even though Din has seen the error of his ways, as he thinks back across the decades and counts his mistakes, Din Djarin knows that he is not a good man.

Yet, somehow, he has found you.

You are the greatest blessing to happen to him, matched only by his son.

He thinks of the way you still look at him with such love in your eyes, even after knowing the atrocities he committed in a past life; it almost embarrasses him to be loved in such a manner.

Somehow, Din has secured your unconditional love. A fact which proves every now and then, both suns shine on a womp rat’s tail. That even the most undeserving of rodents can occasionally have the greatest of fortunes.

Even when the terrors overcome him, you have never contemplated deserting him. No matter how dark and disgraceful the visions he divulges to you are.

When he wakes up yelling for his parents or screaming for Grogu, whom he is momentarily convinced the Empire have recaptured, you are always there to reassure him and to hold him while he sobs; to kiss his pain away with a touch of your soft lips against his tear-streaked cheeks.

Even knowing all he has done, you still look at him as though he is responsible for hanging all the stars which twinkle in the sky above your cabin on Nevarro.

Din recalls evenings spent on the porch with you outside the unassuming cabin you share by the lava flats of Nevarro. Watching the sun set beneath the horizon as he holds your smaller hand in his, while he admires how your hands fit together as they rest on his lap. He thinks about how smooth your skin is there, how it is so unlike the calloused roughness of his own.

You are softness and humanity in the face of his wickedness.

A wave of nausea overcomes him. Din is stricken by an overwhelming urge to get away from you. To put some distance between himself and you before he corrupts you with his immorality once more.

He ponders that perhaps he will find some relief on the porch in the dead of night. A solitary figure, save for his thoughts and the ghosts that haunt him. Sitting in total silence, apart from the bugs which chirp in the distance, is an appealing prospect.

So Din slowly swings his legs off the edge of the bunk, careful not to disturb you. He cringes at the way the sheets rustle. It is a minor offence compared to the many sins Din has already committed. Still, he does not want to add disturbing your peace to that list.

He sighs in the darkness as he perches on the edge of the bunk, a forceful exhale which causes his shoulders to droop when he realises you are still sleeping soundly. Din is relieved that you are unaware of his distress.

He is tantalisingly close to the door when the moment of solace is cruelly snatched away. His careful steps across the wooden floor were evidently not soft enough.

The gentle sound of your voice cutting through the darkness stops him in his tracks. Din turns to face you.

“Din?” you whisper, voice thick and husky with sleep.

The wave of guilt that washes over him is immediate. It threatens to wash him away, to drown him.

“Go back to sleep, cyare,” Din shakily responds, hoping he sounds convincing to someone so attuned to his every mannerism.

“Did you have another nightmare?” you ask, clearly unconvinced by his display.

Din Djarin may be many things, but he is not a liar.

Even under the merciful cover of darkness, when he would not have to look you in the eye as he skirted around the truth, he cannot bring himself to lie to you.

“Yes,” Din finally responds. His voice cracks as he struggles under the pressure of admitting his weakness.

The light is on before he can protest, and you rise from the bed before he can insist that there is no need. Din blinks rapidly for a few seconds as his retinas adjust to the rude intrusion into the darkness.

When his eyes finally focus, you are standing right before him, already moving to gather him into your arms.

It is strange to him, this notion that he ever needed someone to pick him up and dutifully put his shattered pieces back together. A human needing repairs is an alien concept to Din Djarin. While he has always been adept at finding and fixing faults in his impressive arsenal and starships, he was never able to identify his weaknesses and repair himself. Until he found his Clan.

It wasn't until Din saved the kid that he realised he had been running from something for his entire life. Since that terrible day, when he watched over his father's shoulder as the bodies of his neighbours hit the dusty floor. Crumpled heaps, which used to be people until moments ago, were clad in the same distinctive red robes as him. The terror he felt as his parents ran through the streets, determined to save him, their only son.

On his worst days, Din wonders if their sacrifice was worthwhile. He frets over what they would think if they could see what became of their precious boy. Whether they would be disappointed to see the life he followed. A life of such violence, such mercilessness.

Your warm presence against him, as you take him into your arms, snaps him back to the present. Din willingly melts into your embrace, relishing the human contact.

“Talk to me, Din,” you whisper as you hold him to your chest.

When you run your fingers through his hair, he loses all composure and breaks down into small sobs. Din shudders in your arms as you trail soothing fingers through his hair with one hand and rub your hand in circles on his back with the other.

“I don’t deserve you,” he eventually murmurs, voice quivering.

Din feels the way you shake your head. You gently place your hand underneath his chin and tilt his face up. Din's eyes meet your gaze and he notices how your eyes are full of concern for him. He can hardly look at you, feeling mortified at being studied like this.

Allowing himself to be vulnerable like this is still so fresh to him. To have his soul laid bare like this is uncomfortable and unnatural.

“You are not the worst things you have ever done, Din,” you whisper as you gently wipe the tears he was unable to prevent trailing a hot path down his cheek with your fingertips, “You cannot change the past. I know that you are a good man, Din, and I love you. All of you. You would not be the man that I adore without those parts of you. For better or worse, they shaped you into the man you are today.”

Din trembles under your gaze, under the weight of your words. Unsure whether he can allow himself to accept the unconditional love you offer so readily to him, time and again.

The tears stream steadily down his cheeks, as you continue to soothe his soul:

“In you, I see a caring father. A considerate man who will do anything to protect his Clan. A fearless Mandalorian warrior who has turned his fighting prowess towards a more noble endeavour. To rid the galaxy of any threats, to build a better life for your son. That is an honourable undertaking, Din.”

“I am not an honourable man,” he scoffs, instantly rebutting such a compliment. He is far too undeserving of such praise.

“You are,” you sigh, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. There is such tenderness in your gaze and in how you touch him that he struggles to keep his emotions at bay. His bottom lip trembles at your next words, “Your life is not defined by your most evil deeds. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I adore you, Din. There is so much of you that is loveable.”

Din sighs. In his current mental state, he is unable to believe your words. Unable to let them sink in, to find solace in your reassurances. He looks away from you, shaking his head in a silent response.

When he finally feels able to find your gaze again, he watches as something shifts in your eyes. A tether of patience snaps.

There is a firmness in your tone the next time you address him.

“Do you know how empty our lives would be without you? How much the little boy in the other room adores you?" you plead in an exasperated tone. "He’s asleep right now, surrounded by a mountain of plushies that his father bought for him because even though you intimidate most you come into contact with thanks to your appearance, I have seen firsthand that, beneath your armour, you have a pure heart. And you are wrapped around each one of his little green talons.”

At the mention of his son, Din cannot help the way his lips curve upwards, the ghost of a smile crossing against his features. A welcome respite from the tortured look he has worn since he awoke from his nightmare.

“Grogu adores you, Din. He idolises you. You would do anything to secure his happiness,” you nod, “And mine. How lucky am I to know a love like that?”

“I do love you," Din nods, "And I’m going to spend the rest of my life taking care of both of you,” Din vows, the cracks in his voice replaced with steely determination.

Din notices the way you seem to loosen at his words, knowing that the man you know and love is gradually returning to you. His insecurities and devastation have been replaced by his determination to protect you from anything in the galaxy which could harm you.

“Then, let’s get some more rest, honey,” you whisper as you press a soft kiss onto Din’s stubbly cheek.

Din nods and laces his fingers with yours, allowing you to lead him the few steps back to the bunk you share. He slides underneath the covers, watching you as you round the bunk to join him. Once you have slid beneath the sheets, you turn the light off and plunge the room back into darkness.

Yet, the darkness which permeated every atom of Din Djarin’s being has vanished. He can only see the light now. The way your love illuminates every part of his life. How unrelenting, yet not overbearing, the way you adore him is.

Especially when you gently encourage him to roll over on his side so you can wrap your arms around his tight waist and nuzzle into the centre of his back. Your nose and mouth nestled between his broad shoulders.

Din lets out a sigh of contentment.

In your arms, there is tranquillity. The necessary remedy which soothes his anguished spirit.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Later, when Grogu is finally sleeping soundly after another long day of being doted on by his parents, Din finally makes it to his intended destination. Although he tried to reach the porch in the middle of the night, he would rather be here now. Especially since you are by his side, sitting next to him. It is a moment of rest after a hectic day spent entertaining a hyperactive Force-sensitive toddler with a voracious appetite.

With your presence in his life, Grogu has only continued to flourish. Din’s chest swells with pride as he thinks of his son's progress and all the milestones he has reached. Din knows that being a good father to Grogu is the most important role he will ever fulfil. He treats it with as much seriousness as such a responsibility warrants.

But Grogu is asleep.

Now, it is just Din and you. He smiles as he looks at your hands together, and appreciates how your fingers are intertwined. Din relishes the comfort he draws from your physical presence. He feels soothed by the knowledge that he has hidden nothing from you, that you can still love him regardless of his past transgressions.

Din looks out across the landscape towards the rolling volcanic hills of Nevarro, dusted a pale pink and orange colour in the fading light of dusk. He thinks about how he will grow old with you here in this little cabin. If fate grants him such an honour.

He cannot help but smile as he thinks about how you will sit out here on this very porch, holding hands with each other. When his patchy facial hair is flecked with grey and even when it is entirely white. When the wrinkles on his face are as lined and drawn as the crevices which scar the surface of Nevarro. Perhaps Grogu will be old enough to run around by then. Maybe he will have gained the gift of speech.

Regardless, even many rotations from now, Din knows with absolute certainty that he will still think you are the most beautiful sight in the galaxy. Even after years of adoring each other, he will still wonder how he was ever so lucky to be worthy of your love.

Din is excited to spend the rest of his life proving to you that he is the good man you repeatedly inform him you still see, even amongst all his flaws. It is a heavy task, yet one he relishes. Love had terrified him for so much of his life. When he discovered its beauty, he was determined to make up for lost time.

It is a heavy thought that he may never exhaust his capacity and reach the depths of all the love he has realised he possesses.

For now, though, Din turns his head to look at you, a soft smile lighting up his face as the sunset illuminates his features. The colour has returned to his cheeks. You return the gesture, gently sweeping your thumb across the back of his hand.

In the fading light, your face glows golden, only accentuating your beauty. Din wonders again how he was ever so lucky to know a love like this.

Except now, he does not doubt that he deserves it.

Now, Din Djarin allows his chest to be flooded with the warmth he feels when he embraces your love.

He accepts it, even after all the things that he’s done.

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst #pedro pascal characters #my fics #cannot believe it has already been 6 months where does time go eh!

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evergreen-stories · 5 days

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The Forest Beauty | (Aemond x f!modern!reader) (part 1/?)

Summary: time traveler decides to live her new life out in the kingswood, avoiding the new world she finds herself in until an encounter with a certain one-eyed prince changes her life.

Warnings: dark!themes, dark!aemond, obsessive!aemond, book!aemond, no intimacy (smut starts with part 2), intro and first part are kinda a slow burn to introduce the storyline & character

Non-Canon Storyline: 3 years post war – greens won, Aegon's only son was k*lled and only has two daughters remaining, he cannot produce more heirs, Helaena is alive but depressed,Aemond serves as prince regent ever since Aegon got injured during the war and is chronically sick and getting weaker, Aemond is to inherit the iron throne soon, Aemond k*lled Alys Rivers along with all other strongs, Aemond broke the betrothal to Floris Baratheon when he became Prince Regent and won the war (Also, I'm not a native english speaker, please be patient with me)

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< intro masterlist part 2 > (coming soon)

You wander around the woods, returning from another day of working in the city and coming closer and closer to your home when you start to feel uneasy, as if you’re not alone in the forest. You stop and listen, noticing the sound of footsteps close by. With careful steps you approach the sounds, noticing a head full of silvery hair between the trees and watching it carefully.

A man with an eyepatch, dressed in black leather clothes and carrying a long, sheathed sword on his hip. You monitor him carefully; his hands behind his back as he is gazing out into the treeline, he seems to be taking a stroll. But this deep within the forest?

You stalk him for a while, trailing his steps as you make sure to stay hidden. Too busy with staring at him you don't notice a branch on the ground, stepping on it and causing a loud *krack* sound.

The silver haired stranger turns around quickly, facing you and making eye contact. You know it's too late to hide now, as his lilac eye meets yours and a wicked smile forms on his lips

“Hello there, little one. Are you lost?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You say, looking him up and down more closely now. He doesn’t look like someone that should be wandering this deep into the forest. You notice the tell-tale signs of a Targaryen. You’ve heard of them and noticed a few children with these features when you explored the street of silk once. But who exactly was this man standing in front of you right now?

His mouth twitches, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Oh, I am not lost, little lamb. Simply having a nice stroll to take my mind off the stress of ruling. May I ask who I have the pleasure of finding so deep in the woods?”

“No, you may not.” You answer, staying wary of the stranger. You’re starting to connect the emblems on his clothes and scabbard with the ones you’ve seen on royal guards patrolling the city before, this man must be one of the princes. “You should leave. These woods aren’t a place for a pretty prince like you.”

“My, my, my. So confrontational. Why the defensiveness, my beautiful little lamb? Are you hiding something?” He steps closer to you, his voice now has a hint of danger in it.

“No one wanders this part of the woods. You’re better suited closer to the city.” You say, trying to sound more polite than before, quickly understanding the prince might not appreciate the disrespect.

“Ah, yes, no one wanders this part of the woods. Well, that only makes me wonder how a pretty little lamb like you got herself as deep in here as I did. Unless, of course, you are not alone.” His eye leaves yours, scanning along the tree line before stepping closer once again.

“Relax, this is no ambush. Unless you keep on intruding on my space, then it just might.” You say sternly, hoping to play into his paranoia and get him to leave quickly.

“I do so wish I could believe you, little lamb.” His eye still scans over the tree line as his hand falls to the hilt of his sword. “How do you expect me to relax when a beautiful girl like you is all alone in the woods? You couldn’t have gotten this far without help.”

“I have. You don’t think all that dirt and tools on me are for decoration, do you?” You say, gesturing to the axe tied to your belt, knifes dangling off the bag you carry that’s strung over your chest.

“And what exactly did I catch you doing all alone in the woods, little lamb?” His voice is firm now, eye narrowing as he takes a closer look at you, trying to judge you.

You remain quiet for a few moments before deciding to answer truthfully. “I live here.”

“You live here, little lamb?” His eye scans over you once more. “YOU live in the woods?” His voice is filled with equal measures of surprise and disbelief.

“I do.” You say affirmingly. “And I’m not fond of guests.”

“A woman alone in the wild? No man to protect her? No family?” His disbelief is evident in his voice and expression. “I cannot imagine how a beautiful woman like you has endured out here.”

Upset at his words, you feel anger starting to boil deep inside of you. Women in this time are still property to be owned, another reason why you decided to live out here, away from society. “Cut the feigned sympathy. I live just fine out here.”

“But is it really living, little lamb? Living in the wild? Surely a woman of your beauty must desire the comfort and luxuries of civilization. Do you feel no desire to start a family, to have someone care for you and protect you?” His tone seems kinder now, almost caring, although his disbelief is still clear and you cannot shake the feeling of danger coming from him.

Suspicious at his invasive nature you raise an eyebrow. “What is this? A tea party to exchange gossip?”

“Oh no, little lamb. You are a most fascinating creature and you have sparked my interest. I am merely trying to find out more about who you are.”

“I’m not interested in conversation-“

“Now, now, little lamb, we’ve come this far already. It wouldn’t be very polite to turn down a crown prince like this.” His eye narrows, an obvious predatory hint in his voice as his hand tightens on the hilt of his blade. “It’s appalling for a citizen to turn down their crown prince, my dear little lamb.”

You tighten your jaw, nervous at the sudden turn this situation has taken but unwilling to comply with his orders. “I am not a citizen of yours-“

“Everyone is a citizen of mine!” His words are soothing with anger as his patience has reached its limit and he pulls the blade from its sheath. “Now come closer little lamb. I’ll help you back to the city where you belong, where it’s safe.” He begins to stalk towards you, his dark gaze fixed upon you.

You take a few steps back before you turn around and start running, using the the fact you know these woods like no other to lure him away from where your home is before skillfully outmaneuvering him in the thick forest, hiding successfully in a small cave. The silver haired man tries to follow you, you can hear him yell profanities and curse words as he struggles to keep up with you, eventually getting caught up in the thicket and falling behind. "Damn you!" Aemond shouts as he breaks free of the branches and finds himself standing in a clearing with no sign of the little Lamb in sight. Where the hell did she go? Damn this forest. Damn her.

He inelegantly shoves his sword back into its casing, taking a last long look around the scenery before begrudgingly turning around to make his way back to the city.

The rest of his day is plagued by thoughts about her, remembering every single detail about his encounter with this strange, wild little Lamb. She lives in the woods all alone, with no one to care for her? Surely, he thinks to himself, no one would truly want to do that.

She did seem awfully skilled at maneuvering the trees and avoiding my chase. Could she truly be completely alone? He wonders, staring into the lit fireplace of his chambers, his finger mindlessly tapping along the rim of the almost drained cup in his hand. His interest in the little lamb was definitely piqued. He would venture out into the woods to find her again once his duties allowed him to.

time skip / two weeks have passed

Things went back to normal after the encounter with the stranger, you didn’t see him again, but you did make sure to be extra cautious about your surroundings at all times, avoiding all travelers for the time being.

You’re sitting on a boulder in the river, only your ankles in the water as you sharpen your axe using whet stones from the river while waiting for the fish you caught this morning to finish smoking. You’re deep in thoughts as when you notice an unusual rustling of leaves behind you and catch a glimpse of the familiar silver head through the trees.

Here we go again.

The silver haired man had been stalking the Kingswood once again as he had done for several days since he encountered the strange little Lamb the first time. Searching for any hints as to where she lived, so that he could go back and speak with her again.

His hope was running low when then he finally saw her again, sitting in the river, tending to her tools. His heart skipped multiple beats, he couldn’t quite explain why he felt like this.

Still, she is the only one this far into the woods. No one around to protect her, just like when he had met her last time. This woman was a mystery he was most eager to solve. He slowly and deliberately stalked over to her, taking great care to be as sneaky and quiet as possible.

Even though you had noticed him immediately you keep focusing on your tool, pretending you hadn't noticed him as he approaches, hiding behind the last tree that provides him with cover before he would have to step out into the open.

"What is it you want?" You ask after a while, your voice loud and clear while your eyes are still focused on the task at hand. His attempts to remain hidden are more amusing than anything else.

The man was startled but quickly covers his reaction with his typical demeanor, standing proud with his hands behind his back as he steps out of the tree line and approaches the mysterious beauty carefully, as if trying not to startle her. She had quite a sharp ear. Although, he should have known better. If this little lamb had survived by herself in the woods, hearing the noises of the trees and animals was a skill she must have honed greatly.

Once he’s only a few feet away he stops abruptly, contemplating his choice of words before he speaks in a friendly yet stern manner. "You are quite perceptive little Lamb."

He remains quiet for a while. You’re still focused on your tool, not looking up, as you probe him further. "Speak. I know you've been following me for a while."

“I was simply fascinated with your lifestyle after our last encounter, that is all." He comes a few steps closer, enough to look at her properly, but not so close as to make himself a threat. "Why do you live out here, by yourself? Away from civilization and society?"

"Because I wish to do so." You say, now leaning forward to wash off the freshly sharpened axe in the river water.

"But is there no other reason little Lamb? You do not get... lonely? You do not yearn for society or friends? This forest is cold, dark, and dangerous." The mans voice seems filled with what seems like genuine concern for your welfare.

"The forests seem like that only to those who aren't welcome in them." You say, now looking up at him for the first time this conversation. "What do I get out of sharing my life story with you?"

Aemond's eyebrow quirked slightly at your words. Your words were not aggressive but they were not exactly kind or welcoming either. „You get to answer your crown prince a few questions that have been gnawing on his mind for a while. Who could say it wouldn’t be worth it?”

“I could say. The less people know about me, the better. Easier to stay hidden that way.”

Aemond stays silent after she says that, thinking over her words in his head. Stay hidden from what? From whom? What could make her feel that she must remain hidden... "Tell me, my little Lamb. Who are you hiding from?" Perhaps after finding out that one thing, he can put this obsession to rest.

"Men like you." You answer, now shifting your attention back to your tools, reaching back into the river to fetch out another whet stone to sharpen a big knife now.

"Men like me?" His eye narrows. " I am no threat to you. What could possibly have led you to believe that? You are alone so deep in the woods and I have not shown you any hostility... yet."

"No hostility?" You say laughing. "Chasing me with your sword was what then? A local friendship ritual I’m not familiar with?"

"Oh, I was simply trying to get you to stop and talk to me. That is all." He says, a small smile gracing his lips at her words. He found her laughter quite endearing.

“Didn’t work very well now, did it?”

"No I suppose not," His smile grows slightly, he finds this strange little Lamb's demeanor quite intriguing. He was never great at interacting with women, but this one seemed comfortable in his company, at least somewhat. Even if she was also incredibly untrusting and suspicious of him, or of men in general. He looks at her intently, savouring her smile as he knows his next words will wipe it right off her face again.

“I want to know more about you. I will not leave until you tell me more.” He says and as predicted, her cheeky smile gets replaced with a frown again.

“I told you, I won’t-“ he interrupts her quickly, almost pleading with her, “I know, I know. But I need to know. I cannot rest at night. I will not tell anyone about you. Whatever you tell me, it will not have any consequences, I swear it.”

You sigh deeply, pondering his words. You couldn’t care less for telling your story, the possibility of sharing too much lingering in the back of your mind. Then again, perhaps this is just what you needed. Sharing a bit of your true self with someone after having to carefully craft a fake persona and uphold it for the past two years. “Fine then. What is it you want to know?”

His eyes light up at that statement as he takes his time deciding which one of his many questions he should ask first. “Your accent, it seems out of place. Are you not from here?”

You immedily begin to regret your decision to talk to him, struggling to find a way to phrase the truth in a way it doesn’t sound too outlandish. “No, I am not. I come from a land far away, you wouldn’t know it.”

“Did you come alone?”

“Sort of. I came here with others but they… forgot me. Or maybe they are just unable to return. I wouldn’t know.” You say, looking out into the flowing river as you remember.

“Forgot you? Why would your family just forget you?”

“They weren’t my family. They were… people I knew. We went here and they left, never to return, at least not until today. They probably told my family I died.” What had they told your family? You often wondered it. The changes of the seasons and moons made it easy for you to tell how much time had passed here, in this world. Did as much time pass back home? Was your family even informed of what truly happened or were they waiting back home for a sign of life that would never come, with no way of knowing your fate?

Aemond is quiet for a while, processing this information. “How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here two winters already, the coming one will be my third.”

“THAT long?” He blurts out, mind racing. “You have survived here alone all this time, out in this forest, with no family or friends? How?”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips, amused by his disbelief. “Yes, I have. I’m friendly with some of the farmers around here and some merchants. I was fortunate, really, that I was stranded here with a few tools and a bit of money.”

“That could not have been enough to make you survive here. The winters can be hard, as can be nature itself. I don’t know a single woman that would be able to survive like this even with all the tools in the world.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You shrug. This is your normal, all you knew for most of your life, you often forget just how unusual it really is. “I come from a family of farmers. We lived far out, away from civilization, and I learned a lot about nature that way. I am, or was, my parents only child. I spend many years of my childhood in the forest with my dad. He was an avid fisher and knew all the ways around the forest, while my mom taught me all about her knowledge of herbs. She was a healer of sorts.”

Your smile returns as she recalls all her fond memories of home. Oh, how you wished you’d never left the farm. “They bred, trained, and sold horses too. I was strapped to a saddle on my own horse before I could even walk.”

His face shifts from one of shock to one of sympathy. He could tell by your words and the tone your voice takes that you missed home dearly. “And you have no way back?”

“No.” You state plainly. Do you? Truthfully, you do not know, but you surely hope you do.

“Why? If I give you coin for passage, can you go back home?”

“I’m afraid its not that easy.” You huff, struggling to make up an answer to this question. “Unless they come get me, I have no way back. I… I’m done talking about this.” You say, now shaking your head.

He wants to press further but understands he shouldn’t, not if he’d like to keep you talking. “Well then… What are you planning to do here then? You can’t just stay out here forever.”

“Why not?” You conter. “I’ve gotten comfortable out here. I know my way around the woods and can survive quite well out here. I’ve come to appreciate my little life out here quite a lot, actually.”

“Is this really life or is this survival? What about finding a family of your own, what about children?”

You sigh deeply. “I may not have answers to all those questions yet, but I do now I’m content here for now. I have no duties here, no bills to worry about. I just need to figure out my next meal and get to enjoy nature the rest of the time with all the peace and quiet it offers me.”

The change of topic strikes a chord in you, one you didn’t realise was as sensitive as it seems to be. The prospect of having to live out the rest of your days in this time is one that seemed more and more realistic and the question of what you would actually do for the next twenty, forty, sixty years of your life was one burning in the back of your mind more and more frequently.

“I’m done talking for today. You may leave now.” You dismissed the prince, frustration growing inside you.

He is not happy about this, his expression shows this as much as the tone of his voice. “Leave? I just arrived. You can’t just send me away.”

“I do not wish to tell any more stories.” You state. Just as he begins to talk again you turn to face him quickly, looking at him for a few seconds before proposing a compromise. Maybe you just needed some time to gather your thoughts and calm the inner turmoil you can feel bubbling deep inside your chest right now. “How about this: If you can find me again, I will answer you more questions. Anything you want.”

His jaw clenches as he lets out a long sigh. This is not how he wanted this conversation to end but he could tell from her expression that she seemed exhausted and the prospect of getting to ask anything he wanted seemed tempting enough to agree. “Fine then. I will seek you out again soon, but I will not rest until I have all my answers. You must swear you will not avoid me again.”

“I swear it.” You answer, a reassuring smile on your lips. “Have a safe travel back, my prince.”

She had been speaking so freely all this time that hearing her address him properly caught him off guard for a moment. He stands still in place, watching her a bit longer, before begrudgingly turning around to leave after bidding a small goodbye.

As he walks away you turn around slightly, watching the swaying of his silver hair until it disappears completely between the trees. A long, deep sigh escapes your lips as you resume your tasks for the day, thinking about all the questions he asked and what you really wanted from your life now.

You were honest, you did love your life as it was now, but sometimes the solitude did get to you as well. A craving for the love and closeness your family had brought you. As much as you cursed the prince when you had first met him, maybe having his attention on you could be a good thing after all.

He thought his mind would be calmed after speaking to her but to his dismay, the opposite had happened. His head is filled with questions still and worse so, genuine worry about her wellbeing. Yes, his little lamb had survived well by herself, but the confirmation that she was truly alone out there was deeply unsettling to him. When he is laying in bed that night, he realised just how little he knew about her. He didn’t know where she lived – did she have a house or did she sleep under the stars? He had never even asked her name. What would it be? If she is from far away, it surely was exotic.

He keeps tossing and turning that night, the picture of her smiling face filling his mind, even more so when he closes his eye, as if he can see even clearer when the world isn’t distracting him. He tries to sleep but he swears he hears her laugh, still as clear and comforting as it had been when he heard it the first time. A sound so sweet it could lull him to sleep, if only there wasn’t the gaping emptiness next to him, reminding him of your absence, of the fact you’re all alone out there. If something happened to you tonight, would he ever find out? He could not bear the thought of it.

His night stays restless. He falls asleep again and again, dreaming vividly about the way your cheeks rounded when you smiled at him, about the freckles on your nose, the small dimples that appeared under your cheeks when you smiled and over your lips when you pursed your lips in dismay at another thing he said.

It was improper, he knew that much. For a prince, the heir to the throne, to be so enchanted by a forest dweller. Nevertheless, his heart skipped a beat every time he had laid his eyes on her. His mind went back to think about all your interactions at every chance it got, even in the midst of important meetings. He was a devoted and proper man; he knew better and yet, something about her felt so fundamentally right that a future without her seemed wrong.

When the first rays of sunshine broke though his windows he had made his decision. He would go to see her again and this time, he would not leave her behind. He could not. He will find her and bring her – well, where? Somewhere, anywhere he knows she is safe, where he knows he can find her whenever he wants to see her. He will figure it all out, he will find a way to make this work.

His feet soon carry him through the castle, unaware of where he is going until he finds himself in front of two wooden doors. The kings, his brothers, chambers.

Currently editing the next part, that one will be 18+! Second series about Aemond x reader coming soon as well (currently proof reading chapter one)!

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #possessive aemond #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #dark aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #dark aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen

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meggahamicide · 2 months

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Okay, i've decided that i'm just gonna drop/dump some lore on Vermin, so if you're interested, read below! It's really long!

...o.0.O.0.o...

Personality:

Like canon-Leo's head-cannons, Vermin hides his true emotions behind a smile, but their differences are in the execution. Vermin's smiles are more wicked, more cruel, and he find amusement in making people fear him, having experience in getting people to listen to him by intimidating them.

He pretends to be indifferent to how the brothers act around him, but always keeps an eye out for any signs that they aren't as they say they are. Donnie specifically.

Big emotions are a no-no, so he hides them behind a passive face, empty of anything he's feeling so he can convince those he's talking with that he feels nothing, that he is unaffected by any stressors and anxiety. If anything get's too overwhelming, he retreats to a hidden corner to wait it out and tries not to remember how Draxum treated him when he let his emotions get the better of him.

Because he was raise without certain privileges, he gets extremely giddy around new experiences, such as sampling new foods and trying out video games and skateboarding. It's probably the only time he lets his guard down because he's so entranced by whatever is happening he forgets that he's not supposed to be showing emotion.

...o.0.O.0.o...

Relationships:

Raphael:

With Raph, Vermin just doesn't know how to deal with him. An injury brings Vermin to the lair and Raph is the one who heals him, but Vermin in uncertain whether or not he can trust someone with such obvious strength he can easily use to harm Vermin. He doesn't understand why Raph is so kind nervous when he could dominate his enemies.

Michelangelo:

Mikey is the one Vermin accepts the easiest other than April. Mikey has a way to handle Vermin without being too invasive and without threatening the slider in any way shape or form and eventually shows Vermin that there is kindness that is not expected to be repaid. He also helps Vermin lean into his chaotic mindset without it becoming harmful to others, like teaching him how to prank the other brothers.

And of course, Vermin loves trying his food, so Mikey basically tempts the slider like he might a feral cat.

Donatello:

Donnie is the one Vermin has the hardest time accepting. He's convinced he can easily beat the soft-shell in a fight, but once he discovers that Donnie is a scientist, he becomes wary of him, skittish and uncomfortable whenever he's around. He knows that there are other ways to get someone to obey than simply fighting.

It takes Donnie being patient and showing him that he means no harm over time that earns his trust. The softshell just has to break through the notion that all scientist are evil and only seek to destroy that which is closest to them. Donnie even goes as far as to promise to never let anything happen to Vermin ever again.

April O'Neil:

The first one to show kindness when Vermin leaves Draxum's lab. She shows the slider a side of society that he was being deprived of when he was with Draxum, helping him see that there is a place for everyone, that things don't need to hurt to be beneficial. She pretty much forcefully adopts him as her little brother and is even protective of him when he interacts with her other brothers.

Baron Draxum:

Was raised by Draxum. More info in the timeline.

...o.0.O.0.o...

Timeline:

Content Warnings: blood and injury, references to child abuse, loss of limb, needles, non-consensual drug use (kind of), non-consensual experimentation and surgery.

It gets dark, so be cautious of the warnings!

Age 0-4:

In the beginning, Lou Jitsu, later known as Splinter, only rescues three of the turtles, who eventually go by the name Donatello, Raphael, and Michelangelo. The remaining turtle, identified by his red markings, is picked up by Baron Draxum before the lab explodes, destroying his life work. The only remaining bit of his research is the tiny creature small enough in the palm of his hand.

Quick to find a place to stay and recover, the Baron begins working to piece together his research using his subject. He starts a book, scribbling down anything worth noting and refraining from any larger tests besides bloodwork and skin-scraping until the subject is larger, better able to withstand any more intrusive tests.

He begins raising the creature, claiming it as his own.

Age 5-8:

Called by the title Red, the slider reaches acceptable cognizance to begin training by the age of five. He is small, just below the Baron's knee, but he is intelligent enough to understand complex problem solving and language. Weapons training is less successful than desired, but that could be related to the subject's weaker limbs and child-like nature.

Baron Draxum is relentless in his education, always prepared to deliver swift punishment should Red be unable to comply with his desires. Red hates the punishment, often times covered in bruises from the extra training or with a headache from spending his nights in 'The Room,' but he is just as stubborn as his guardian, if not more so. He always seeks to make his boss proud, ignoring the voice that always tells him he's not strong enough, not good enough. Baron Draxum always has a reason for saying things like that, so Red knows he just has to try harder.

He's not exactly sure what a human is, but the Baron is convinced that he needs to kill them all.

Every other week, the Baron brings Red to another room where he 'collects samples.' Red doesn't know what they're for, but he's seen the elder gather some of his freshly peeled chutes and teeth when they fall off, always writing in that journal with a little turtle drawn on the front.

One night, when he's just turned eight, Baron Draxum leaves in a hurry. He's gone for hours, leaving Red to his own devices and wondering if maybe the yokai had finally got bored of him, wondering if he just left him behind because he couldn't satisfy him. Red tries not to listen to the little voice in his head that says maybe that's a good thing, maybe it's better if he stays gone.

Red doesn't see him until the next day, well into the night, and suddenly, he regrets ever thinking those nasty things of his guardian. The yokai is hunched by the door, missing an arm and looking very tired. Red runs to him, but the Baron doesn't even acknowledge him, holding a towel to his stump.

Red is crying. He knows he shouldn't, knows that tears mean weakness, but he's afraid for his boss, afraid of what is happening, because that's a lot of blood. He feels something well up in his chest as he sits next to his guardian, the feeling swelling into his lungs and arms, weaving through his bones and into his fingers, bright, blue light zapping over his fingers. Something guides his hand, pressing them against the yokai's injury and forcing the light into him.

He heals Baron Draxum.

Baron Draxum looks at him like he's solved the world's problems.

Age 9-10:

Test after test after test. Red is sure he's never been through so many tests, but he finally sees the Baron's pride and he wants to impress him, so he doesn't complain when the needle digs too far, or when the scalpel scrapes a little to much skin. This new power is good, that's all he knows. Baron Draxum calls it mystic energy, says that it was a power he was seeking all along, so Red doesn't complain when all of the test make him tired enough to pass out, or make him cry himself to sleep because his chest aches from how long he had to work. Baron Draxum is proud, proud enough to give him a portal sword and teach him how to use it, proud enough to hand him a pair of tonfa and guide him through the motions of building a shield, proud enough to smile when Red uses the kusari-fundo for the first time.

Red trains his new skill until he's sick, until he can't stand, until he can't feel the first time Baron Draxum uses that strange, green liquid on him.

Baron Draxum was proud.

Age 11-13:

Red is pretty sure his name isn't Red any more. It's Vermin. At least, that's what the Baron has started to call him.

Ever since he stopped being able to use mystic energy without fainting, Baron Draxum has stopped using that old name. Now he was a pest, a creature incapable of healing, or portaling, or simply making things float. He is weak.

Baron did something while he was sedated; took apart his plastron and looked around inside. Vermin thinks he was looking for what was so wrong with him, why everything the slider does ends up in failure. He now has a shiny new plate of metal on his chest and a paranoia of falling asleep.

He lost count the amount of times he was put to sleep, but every time he woke to something different, and injection of mutagen transforming his body while he was so out of it he couldn't even open his eyes. His toes and fingers become more flexible, grow sharp talons attributed to some sort of owl. His tongue becomes forked, able to scent things by merely breathing. His hearing and eyesight become sharper, a fox's DNA granting him night vision. He becomes stronger, faster, more agile, but it's never enough.

Vermin's starting to think that it never was going to be enough.

Vermin is awake when Baran Draxum puts in the ports, ignoring how painful it is and preferring to strap Vermin to a table while he digs into the slider's neck and arms, leaving six, shiny new devices embedded in his skin. The Baron has Vermin carry around a canister of green liquid on his back, a 'empyrean variant' he said, and with a click of a button, the canister sprouts tubes that dig into his ports, releasing the substance into his bloodstream. It hurts, floods his system with fire, but Vermin was used to pain. Now he just has a few more scars to show for it.

The substance grants him more power, more strength, more speed. His senses, already sharp, become that much more, overwhelming his sensory intake, but he learns how to fight past the side-effects. Missions outside of the lab become easier, training obstacles the Baron create become simple to dispatch, he always hurts but there is no other option.

It's always been the Baron and him, but maybe... maybe it doesn't have to be.

He's tired of hurting, tired to running himself to the ground, tired of covert missions that paint Baron Draxum as the ultimate threat when he's doing all the work, tired to sneaking around New York City in a futile attempt of gathering information that will likely never be useful. He tired of being compared to the experiments that didn't live through the first test, he tired of living up to a trio of dead beings that weren't even strong enough to compete with him. He tired to the punishments, of the bruises, of the empty room, of the nightmares, of the expectations.

He's just tired.

On the morning of his fourteenth year, Vermin comes to the conclusion that Baron Draxum isn't the be-all-end-all, that his ideals do not have to be his own. It fills him with a giddiness that leaves him trembling, his heart pounding.

In the middle of his fourteenth year, Vermin leaves.

Age 14:

The first person Vermin officially meets a human named April O'Neil.

Age 16:

...Vermin is starting to think his name was meant to be Leonardo all along.

#art #drawing #rottmnt #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #sketch #update #rottmnt vermin au #finally some lore #this turned out a lot longer than i wanted and yet still feels like i didn't explain enough

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97keanu · 5 months

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figure skating for the first time x keanuverse ? ⛸️🤍🎄❄️

*˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ohohoho this is perfect !!!! Thank you for asking, I've had this on my mind for a bit now! (And I may also be writing a fuller fic for such a thing with reader x young!JW :3c) John Constantine, Kevin Lomax, and Neo undercut! Pure fluff!

❄️.*ㅤ Since he's on my mind, older John would love going ice skating with you! He's probably done it at least once himself, and if not, with as skilled as he is as working his body through the movies, I think he would manage just fine! I also have a head canon that when he grew up with The Director, they didn't seperate teaching ballet by gender of who was there (no "just girls learn ballet, boys learn how to kill" deal.) So, I like to think of John Wick as someone who can do all he does because he also has a rigorous background in learning ballet, having those precise body movements, knowing how to work every muscle in his body to his advantage.

Therefore, I would like to imagine that John takes you to the nearest rink (or perhaps a lake he knows that's more private?) And actually helps to teach you how to skate better (or how to at all if you don't know how!). He would be patient, watching you and only stepping in when you need it, his arms wrapping around your waist or steadying your elbow.

Eventually, you're doing it on your own, and John is there watching you, a smile creeping on his face from being able to teach you something so intimate to him. He actually has to be the one to stop you once the night starts setting in, the temperature getting way too cold to stay out in much longer.

He takes you back to his mustang and already has a fuzzy blanket there to wrap you in. You in the night back at his apartment, drinking a late night coffee and John listening to you giggle about how much fun you had with a warm heart.

❄️.*ㅤTed Logan however, lives in sunny California, so they don't see snow or ice often enough for ice skating to be a regular ordeal. He is your skater boyfriend however, so when you do end up finding a indoor rink to take him too, he thinks he will be pretty good at it from the get go. And he isn't horrible, he knows how to balance well and tries to stay up right, but it's actually so different from riding his skateboard or even rollerskates that it takes him a moment or two to get really good at it. Once he has it down though, he's skating around, pulling you by your hands until you two are laughing and doing goofy circles around the rink. Eventually, his himbo-ness gets the best of him, and as he's admiring how pretty your hair looks under the ice rink lights, he slips, bringing you down with him. He takes the harder of the fall, you fall on top of him with rosy cheeks and a smile already forming from how silly your boyfriend can be. You two end up laying there and laughing in the middle of the rink for way too long, maybe even annoying a few other skaters, but you two couldn't care if you tried. The night ends with the two of you warming up at a nearby cafe with hot cocoa and plans to try it again sometime.

❄️.*ㅤJohn Constantine would flat out refuse to go ice skating with you. Your big doe eyes would plead with him, but that's not going to change his mind. You tell him how much you enjoyed going as a child, how you love to ice skate, but you're not going to find a Los Angeles city boy like him on an ice rink anytime soon. Or, are you?

Maybe after his refusal, he takes on a demon hunting case that just so happens to lead him to a hockey rink. When the chase leads you two there, you don't see John stop to think about what he's doing as he tries to run out onto the ice. You go after him, your sneakers sliding and skidding on the slippery surface, but your years of practice skating have you able to keep your balance. To your dismay, ahead of you, Constantine is not someone who's trained in such things, and for the first time ever(and probably the last), you see Constantine fall flat on his ass. You easily skid by, reaching out a hand to help him up, and he can't deny grumbling a 'thank you". By the time you're ready to resume chase, the demon is gone.

"See? If we had just gone skating last Saturday, maybe you would have been prepared for this type of thing!" You know you shouldn't rub it in, but you can't help pointing out the truth.

"Yeah, yeah," Constantine carefully finds his way to the rinks edge, and gets out onto non-slippery flooring. "Okay, Maybe I'll take you next time..."

You squeal with joy and the two of you end the night with you having a hot tea in his apartment and Constantine taking a whiskey and nursing his bruised backside.

❄️.*ㅤKevin Lomax is not one for ice skating. Our good southern boy hasn't even roller skated a day in his life, and he's not about to trade his cowboy boots for a pair of blades.

"Please, Kevin! I really want to go skating!" You pester him, and eventually he caves, lucky that New York gets more snow than Florida.

He wraps you, and himself, up tight in winter clothes, and bites back complaints about how cold it is. He takes you to a local spot that he's heard of, and only a few other couples are out at the rink. Good, less people to have to see him fall on his ass when this goes awry.

He still has to maintain the confidence of a business man, so he keeps his lawyer smile on and helps you into your skates. At first, he let's you go ahead and skate without him, watching you perform moves he is actually pretty entranced with. When you pull your leg up over your head, he actually gives a holler out of support("Yeah that's my wife/girlfriend!").

Eventually, when everyone else has left, you persuade him into trying on a pair of skates, and to your surprise, he does. You gently take him out onto the ice, and for a few moments he's actually doing it! You let go gently, and he glides by himself, able to get down the simple movements, but nothing too crazy. In the end, you two do slow circles in the middle of the rink, face to face with each other. Kevin looks deeply in your eyes, and you're happy he's obliged your silly request. He leans in for a kiss, and you feel your legs shake on your skates. To your surprise, you're the one who's lost your balance first, and Kevin catches you with a laugh.

"Too much for you, darlin'?" He whispers with that husky southern voice, and the redness in your cheeks isn't just from the cold anymore.

The two of you end the night at a fancy dinner spot, something expensive, decorated in holiday spirit and the sound of a live pianist and violinist playing soft Christmas tunes.

❄️.*ㅤNeo lives in Chicago, so he's no stranger to the cold or navigating ice. I believe he likely has gone ice skating before, probably as a child, but hasn't done that in many years. When you ask him, he's apprehensive, but it doesn't take much begging for him to agree.

He takes you to a spot that's supposed to be the best experience, and only after you two have bought your tickets do you realize it's PACKED. There's way too many people here for Neo's comfort, or yours for that matter, and after about an hour of trying to find your way onto the ice where you two can have some alone time, you see it's not going to happen tonight and give up.

Neo makes it up to you by taking you to your favorite dinner spot. It's an enjoyable date night still, but he can tell how badly you wanted to go and can see the disappointment that you couldn't.

So, after about a week, he tells you that he's taking you out for a surprise.

When you arrive to this mystery destination, you realize it's the same ice rink. You ask him why, knowing it's another Saturday and it will be packed just like before, but Neo motions to the lack of people in the parking lot.

"What...?" You say as you begin to piece things together. "How did you...?"

"We have the whole place to ourselves. I took out every ticket just for us." He says slyly, obviously proud of this feat.

"What do you mean? That has to be crazy expensive!" You know Neo is well enough off, but that sorta price is excessive even for him.

"Well, their website for buying tickets was particually hard to hack..." He looks over at you with a smirk and smiles big when you throw your hands around his neck, gleeful for his talent tonight.

"No! You didn't! Neo..." You say into his neck giving him a big squeeze. "Thank you..."

The two of you head inside and are treated like unknown celebrities, putting on an air of being such, and trying to remain lowkey. You both have fun pretending to be people you're not, and Neo skates alongside you easily, even taking the risk of dipping you back and twirling you a few times. You're surprised your typical home dwelling boyfriend could be so suave and savvy, but you enjoy it nonetheless. You get hot drinks at a concession stand, and eat pretzels and Chicago style hotdogs to your content.

#i hope you enjoy these takes! all your boyfriends are willing to do a winter time activity with you due to feeling the holiday spirit!#except constantine...but you know how he is lol #john wick x reader #john constantine x reader #constantine x reader #neo x reader #ted logan x reader #kevin lomax x reader #lila speaks #ask lila #my writing #••• ◛ ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵃⁱˡ!#keanuverse

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hanakoofthejungle · 8 days

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My most favourite Overlord Husk AU fanfictions

I am no expert in writing, just a regular fangirl whose brain is constantly occupied by HuskerDust. I like these fics purely based on the kicks I get out of reading reading them. HuskerDust fanfiction is my drug now :))))

All of this start commonly with Husk winning Angel's soul in a game against Valentino, the two eventually got involved romantically but ...

Blue Is Not Your Colour by Shienkha (competed)

It is rare to see Husk as deeply flawed, an addict to his poison (gambling) as much as Angel to sex. Both fell victims to their addiction, ultimately ruined their chance at happiness. In the end, Husk lost his soul to Alastor and Angel went back to Valentino. Husk realized only then that he loved Angel. The two finally reunited at the Hazbin Hotel, connecting the story to the canon.

“And a spade,” he whispered to himself as he headed out, slipping the ring to his chest pocket, “to symbolise how far I would have gone for you.”

As far as it would have taken to keep you happy.

Or, in the absence of it…

… as safe as one can be in Hell.

This is absolutely the best fic in my opinion.

2. Loved You Like Religion by cokedupdicksuckinghoe (completed)

This is as beautiful as the song after which the fic is titled.

Angel killed Valentino to save Husk. Husk was oblivious to his feeling until Angel seduced him with "Why Don't You Do Right". In the end, Husk prepared to throw everything away for Angel.

"He was devoted to Angel; he loved him like religion."

3. To A Player Everything Is A Game by Tat_Tat (completed)

A bundle of domestic bliss. This fic is my guilty pleasure. Whenever I came across a traumatic HuskerDust fic, I come back to this to save myself from the anxiety.

4. Call Your Bluff by RazzAppleMagic

Angel relapsed and went back to Valentino after being 'rejected' by Husk. He later worked through his traumas, left Valentino on his own while befriending Vaggie during Extermination Day. As of the latest update, Angel came back to the casino and reconciled with Husk. The two began dating and Angel prepared to face Valentino once more.

5. Wicked Old Soul by BunnyBight

Husk put Angel in therapy with Charlie. Angel didn't appreciate Husk making decision for him and concealing his status as the Gambling Overlord. As of the latest update, Angel was wooed by a charismatic lion who was hired by Vox to kidnap him. Ah never mind. New chapter came out, Angel is safe for now :))

6. Someone You Can Bet On by Shigariope

Angel begged Husk to play a game with Valentino for his soul. Husk not only won Angel's soul, he also put a ring on his finger to safeguard his Overlord image. I look forward to see how their marriage of convenience progresses :)))

7. House of Cards by abookomaps

Valentino tortures Angel with angelic weapon. Husk proved Angel's worth by betting that Angel can make in one day what Valentino made in a month.

8. But you've got company by mamini2000 (completed)

Angel thought Husk was just an bartender then they fell in love.

9. Mine NOW Val by Rocher1893

Angel filled in for Husk's lounge singer. Husk devised a plan to help him get away from Valentino.

10. When the King Cat finds his Spider by Blahaj_Enjoyer

Husk demanded Angel's soul as collateral for his trade deal with Valentino. Valentino can film at Husk's casino, while he got Angel as new employee. It is precisely because Husk didn't technically own Angel's soul yet that I want to see how this story progresses.

11. Consequences by Bigredboi (completed)

To protect Angel, Husk killed Valentino and the Sin of Greed, becoming the new Sin.

12. First Breath by huskapologist

As of the latest update, Husk and Angel were plagued by nightmares and I by cliffhanger :))

13. Casino of love by @artwaterfall

A slow burn bliss following Angel's path to recovery from his pasts trauma and insecurity. If you are looking for Husk falling in love listening to Angel singing New side of me, this is the best description there is. If I didn't already have a significant other, I would have fallen in love with the spider myself just by reading that chapter, and I had the goosebump to prove it. This story is a treat that I look forward to every week.

14. I Can Only Blame Myself by InkPhoenix

Angle ran away from Valentino and collapsed before an extermination. He was saved by Husk and now had to deal with new disability and the possibility of being sent back to Valentino.

15. Sober to Death by BrainRotgoBrrrrr

Angel beat Husk at poker and he decided to buy him off Valentino. Alastor was eyeing Husk's soul.

16. Luck Be A Lady Tonight by Basic_Witch

Valentino used Angel to spy on Husk. Meanwhile, Husk taught Angel how to play cards and valued his business ideas.

17. The Gambler by @5carecr0w

Angel's appearance somehow brought luck to Husk's game with Alastor, saving him from losing his soul. Angel became his new lucky charm.

18. Him & His Libertine Principles by limpid_spice

Alastor enlisted Husk to make a bet against Valentino. Husk found Angel pathetic.

19. Cat’s Eye Casino by Lunatic_caramelle

Absolute bliss :)) As of the latest update, Husk was attacked by Val's men and injured. Angel took care of him while he healed and they grew closer.

20. Fates Gamble (two traumatized gay men rediscover love) by Chaosfrog

As of the latest update, the Vees had hidden cameras installed throughout the casino, giving Vox's control over machines and tables there. 'Whatever will befall my favourite couple?', I asked while waiting for updates every day :)))

21. High Stakes by dreamnplay

Husk wanted Angel to work the floor on a 10-hour shift per day. Angel thought he want him to f*ck customers for 10 hours a day. Read this and you will wonder when they will start communicate openly and honestly.

22. My Kingdom for The Soul of an Angel by meg_a_dork (completed)

Absolute domestic bliss with shopping, cooking, cuddling and everything. Angel proposed to Husk first :))) They got married and had cake 🍰

23. Ace of my Heart by Karmawillcollect (completed)

Angel beat Husk at poker and he bought him off Valentino. Guilty pleasure smut ensues :)))

24. My Atlantis by Satan_Has_A_Wife (completed)

Husk was bad at feeling, thinking Angel only loved him because he owned his soul and had been half-decent to him. Angel got Husk all hot and bothered seeing him with a gun. Cherri approved of Husk.

25. I Don’t Want The World But I’ll Take This City by highfemmeicequeen

Husk was bad at feeling and thought he knew what Angel wanted. Angel was angry, tired of being told who he was and what he wanted.

26. Love in Bonds by QueenofShadows1987

Husk and Angel dived head first into a relationship based on a 'standard' BDSM contract. Note that Husk is not the consent King we know and love here and Angel had no choice but to be his mate.

The list is to be updated.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #hazbin husk #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x husk #hazbin hotel husk #overlord husk

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ladykailitha · 5 months

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Well Met By Moonlight Part 7

Hello! It was a bit of a rough morning for me with the hate I got earlier. Maybe I could have worded it nicer, but I'm tired of gatekeepers that think everything ever has to be canon inspired, but if you have a difference of opinion about what is canon then them you're delusional.

And then my son nearly fainted at his school singing program this afternoon. He got sent home yesterday due to being over emotional at school (couldn't stop crying), but we thought it was just a bad mental health day. Apparently not.

So it was a little hard wanting to post today, even though I have a backlog of 15 chapters across 5 stories because I was feeling overly emotional.

So I hope you enjoy a little bit of sexy times for our boys. I told you I'd bring Eddie back sooner, rather than later.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

18+ Under the Cut

****

Eddie was in his room trying to nail down the bridge on a song he was writing when he heard a small scratching noise at the front door. He set his guitar aside and listened closely.

There it was again.

He wasn’t expecting anyone today. He got up warily and was at the door in an instant. He looked through the peephole and huffed out a laugh.

He opened the door and leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.

“You barely left me last night and you’re already at my door step again?” he teased.

There was that wolfie laugh Eddie adored so much.

“Come on in before the twins next door think you’re a doggy to play with and chase you all over the trailer park.”

Steve laughed again and Eddie shook his head, moving to the side to let his boyfriend in.

Steve shifted back to human and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck loosely. “Hey baby.”

Eddie purred. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Even though he knew that Steve being naked wasn’t a sexual thing, it didn’t stop him from grabbing that beautiful bare ass anyway.

He dived into Steve’s lips kissing and licking his way into that perfect mouth.

Steve’s arms tightened around Eddie’s neck, grinding against the hard planes his body. He wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist and let him carry him into the bedroom.

He kicked the door closed and proceeded to have his wicked way with him.

Once they had come several times and had finally wore themselves out, Eddie rolled over on his back and huffed out a laugh.

“I know you didn’t just come over to fuck,” he said, throwing his arm over his eyes, “so what’s the real reason for the visit?”

Steve laughed. “You are very distracting, you know?”

Eddie grinned. “It’s that ass, baby. I just can’t get enough.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said. He rolled over on his side to look at him. ��You know how it was Josh’s first day with the pack?”

Eddie immediately straightened up and looked down at Steve. “Yeah? How did that go?”

“He’s a good kid and I don’t think we’ll have any problem with him,” Steve hummed.

“But...” Eddie asked, tilting his head forward.

Steve sat up and wrapped one arm around his knees. “When you were growing up did you have any days where the teachers would talk about supernatural kind? But not like on days the supernatural kids would be there?”

Eddie sat up too and frowned. He thought hard. “You know, now that you mention it, there were days like that. It was straight up bullshit, so I never really paid attention...” His eyes went wide. “Shit you don’t think that’s why Jason and them went apeshit, do you? The shit they were learning about on moon days?”

Steve bit his lip. “I don’t know. It worries me that they’re getting anything like that at all.”

Eddie nodded. “I don’t know of anyone who’s not supernatural, not anymore.”

Steve lifted his head. “Yes you do. The drummer of your band, what was it called, Carrion Coffin or something?”

“Corroded Coffin,” Eddie gently corrected.

“That’s the one,” Steve said, snapping his fingers. “I know Jeff is a vampire like you and Brian is some other supernatural being...”

“Siren,” Eddie said, rubbing his chin. “I’ve always suspected Gareth might be a supe of some sort, but I could never confirm it.”

“But if he’s still going to school,” Steve said hopefully, “and not allowed to take moon days off due to whatever kind of supe he is, then he might be able to do some recon for us.”

Eddie nodded. “I have band practice tomorrow, I’ll ask. Maybe Brian remembers something, too.”

Steve sagged in relief. “Thanks sweetheart. I appreciate it. If the schools are indoctrinating kids against supes that might explain the rise in hunters over the last few decades.”

“Leading to whatever the hell it was that happened to you...” Eddie said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, because why a cross?” Steve said. “Crosses are vampire lore, not werewolf.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “I’ll talk to Wayne about it when he gets home. Maybe he can get more out of Patrick and Jason tomorrow, too.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve murmured. “That’s weight off my mind.”

Eddie grinned. “Now where were we?”

Steve laughed and then tackled his boyfriend back to his bed. He straddled Eddie’s waist. “You are insatiable, you know that?”

Eddie snapped his jaws at Steve playfully. “You love it.”

Steve moved up enough so that Eddie’s cock caught on Steve’s taint, causing Eddie to gasp.

“Oh, so that how you want to play it, pretty boy,” he growled, slowly pushing Steve backwards onto his cock until Steve bottomed out.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve whined. “I love the way you fill me.”

Eddie lifted him up and then snapped him back down his cock. “I love the way you look when you’re stuffed with my dick, sweetheart. I love the whimpering mess you become when I fuck you so hard. But you’re on top this time, so show me what you’ve got.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

He started off slow, allowing the drag of Eddie’s cock to come almost all the way out before slamming back down onto his hips.

“Like that, Stevie,” Eddie said his voice husky with desire. “Just. Like. That.”

Steve nodded. He kept up the slow pace, grinding up and down, touching his throat, his chest, his stomach, his thighs, everywhere but his cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie cooed. “You putting on a show for me?”

Steve nodded, biting down on his lip. He ran his fingers through his hair and then back down his body.

Eddie was about to explode from the sight alone. His last ounce of control snapped and he flipped them over.

Steve let out a gasp of surprise. “Too much for you, rockstar?”

“Not even close to being enough, sweet cheeks,” he growled and then starting railing him hard and fast.

Soon Steve was spilling on his belly as he watched Eddie chase his own release.

Moments later Eddie was stock still as he filled Steve, his eyelashes fluttered shut and his breath came out in a shuddering sigh.

They were drenched in sweat, Steve was covered in come, and they both panted for breath.

Eddie slipped out and flopped on the bed next to Steve. “Fuck, I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Steve giggled. “Supernatural sex tends to be better because we have better stamina, strength, and flexibility then humans do.”

Eddie rolled on his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “Despite what this town thinks I was no blushing virgin coming into this relationship, babe. I’ve been with human, siren, and werewolf–” Steve opened his mouth to ask but Eddie held up his hand, “no one you know, I promise. This is at a supernatural bar in Indy. But I have never had sex like when I’m with you. It makes all the noise in my head fade to the background.”

Steve smiled. “I’m glad. And of course I’m completely gone on you, too, you know. I don’t it’s the type of supe you are that makes being with you so easy, the sex so good. It’s you.”

Eddie smiled dopeyly at Steve as he watched his boyfriend get up and head for the showers.

He cleaned up the bed and got dressed again. He was back working on the bridge he was working on before Steve came around, but this time with added clarity.

“Sounding good, Eds,” Steve said when he came back in.

Eddie grinned up at him. “Maybe I should have sex with you every time I’m stumped writing, I mean it about the clearing my head.”

Steve leaned down and gave him a kiss. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Eddie giggled. “Go on, pretty alpha boy. Your pack awaits.”

Steve laughed, skipping away lightly.

He opened the door and then transformed, leaping down the stairs. He tore down the road and Eddie just shook his head fondly as he shut the door behind his boyfriend.

Steve loved his wolf form. It was two-toned unlike most of his pack. The dark brown of his upper pelt and honey color of his muzzle, legs, and belly made him look more like an oversized friendly dog most of the time.

It made it easier to walk the streets of Hawkins without people batting an eye at him.

There were those that recognized him on sight, of course. But they never called him by his name, they always called out, “Sandy!”

Which always made him laugh.

“Hey, Sandy!” Mr Thacher called from his tire shop as Steve loped by.

Steve barked his hello and continued on way.

A little boy spotted him and Steve patiently sat still as he buried his face into Steve’s fur until his dad tugged on his hand to make him come with.

“Not now, Charlie,” his admonished. “You have a dentist appointment.”

Charlie sighed and allowed himself to be led away with a mournful, “Bye puppy.”

He finally got to the mayor’s office and grabbed the robe waiting by the door. He went into the bathroom and came out with the robe wrapped around his naked form.

Lucy, Major Roberts’s secretary, shook her head. “It’s damn shame that Mayor Roberts put that robe there for you.”

Steve laughed. “You just like looking at my ass.”

She pretended to be affronted. “Darling, it’s your thighs!”

Steve laughed again. “Is he able to see me right now?”

She nodded. “I’ll buzz you in.”

“Mr Harrington!” Mayor Roberts greeted, standing up to shake his hand. “What an unexpected pleasure, how can I be of service?”

Steve sat down and told him everything Josh had told him and his discussion with Eddie about the possibility of anti-supernatural rhetoric being taught in the schools.

Mayor Roberts nodded. “I was aware there was extra-curricular subjects being taught on moon days, as the teachers can’t teach their subject to only half their class. But I don’t think I ever thought about what was being taught.”

Steve nodded. “If we can find the source here in Hawkins maybe we can get it changed on a national level.”

“Thereby stopping the rise of hunters in the country,” Mayor Roberts agreed. “I’ll look into it. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Steve nodded again. “Of course. Thank you for your time.”

They shook hands and Steve was slipping through the door as wolf, the robe carefully carried in his jaw.

Lucy laughed. “Sneak!” she teased.

Steve put the robe back on the hook and looked at her innocently.

Mayor Roberts laughed. “He got you good there, Lucy.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, yeah.”

And with that Steve slipped out of the mayor’s office and back out onto the street.

He shook himself off and the broke into a run. He had a lot to think about but first he had one more stop to make.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @bookbinderbitch @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @anaibis @she-collects-smut @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson

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