#all of the notes one by one and keeping in time/beat | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days

Text

All In 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Hellllllooooo 😁

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You can’t help but admire the books balanced in your lap. You’re overly aware of another set of eyes on you as you once more trace the title with your fingertips, not wanting to touch too much but simply unable to resist. It can’t be real. All the books you ever had come from the Goodwill or your grandmother’s closet.

Bucky leans into you, his proximity still sweltering to you. You glance over at him sheepishly as you grip the edges of the top book to hold them steady.

“Thank you,” you babble again, probably for the ten dozenth time.

“You like them, doll?”

“Yes, very much,” you push your shoulders up bashfully.

“See, doll, all I wanna see is you happy,” he intones, “you’re happy, aren’t you?”

“Sure, yes,” you stammer, “thank you.”

He chuckles, amused by your incessant thanks yous. He rubs your shoulder and grips it tight, pulling you closer.

“So, I made you happy,” he shifts his body slightly against the seat belt, “how are you going to make me happy?”

You blink and gulp, clutching the books tighter. You bite down as you stare at him. Oh.

“Can I tell you how?” He brings his fingertips up to pet your chin, “promise, it’s not too much.”

“Mm, okay,” you utter.

He grins and presses his thumb against your chin, “a kiss? Just one.”

You let out a wispy noise and barely keep the books from slipping away. What? You can't be entirely surprised, you have no illusions, well as little as you can have, about what he wants and yet it’s like you’ve been slammed into by a sixteen-wheeler. Your clamp your lips tight as your bat your eyes.

He considers you and his lips straighten, his dimples pitting beneath his beard, “you don’t want to?”

“Uh, no, it isn’t...” your bottom lip quivers and your voice quakes. “I just...”

You shudder and look at his mouth then his neck. You can’t look him in the face. Your whole body is alight and your heart is throbbing. How do you tell him the one thing you’re terrified to ever admit to anyone, though you’re certain they can see it clear enough.

“You just what?” His voice is grittier, deeper. It adds an extra beat to your heart.

“I never...” your eyes wander away, “I never kissed anyone. I’m sorry. I’m just... nervous. So I... I don’t know if I would be good.”

He hums and rubs your chin, turning your head to him. He moves his hand to cradle your entire jaw and your throat bobs once more. You can’t help but reach to his wrist, clasping around his silver watch as your other hand strains to keep hold of the books in your lap.

“Why wouldn’t you be any good, doll? Those lips can’t be anything but delicious.”

You squeak and squirm in the seat. A tingle flows up your spine and strangles you. Your lips open and close like a fish out of water, a fluttering breath escaping you.

“Doll, close your eyes,” he says.

You can’t argue. You can’t move. You can barely think. So you obey.

You shut your eyes and feel the heat around you stir. You can sense him leaning in and you stiffen as his breath glosses over you. He tilts your head up as his lips brush yours, his beard tickling your skin, and he presses firmly against you. You squeeze your eyes tight as he hums again and you let out a surprised squeak as his tongue pokes against your mouth.

He pulls back as the books fall out of your lap onto the floor. Your eyes flick open and you try to look down. He holds you in place and pushes you back against the seat.

“Forget them,” he urges as his hand stretches across your neck, “and open your mouth, doll.”

He leans in once more and you’re plastered against the seat by his weight and the seatbelt. His mouth covers yours again and you let your lips go slack as his tongue delves within. You let out a murmur around him and slap your hand against the suede as his hand moves under your ear, a perfect vee beneath your lobe. He groans as he keeps his tending firm but soft, drawing back with a nibble as he leaves your lips wet.

You sit there, eyes closed, puffing and trembling. He caresses your chin and purrs, “how was it, doll? Everything you expected and more?”

You force your eyes open and look at him, shrinking down as you reach for his arm and try to dislodge his hand, “wow... I...”

He smirks, “been a while since I left a lady breathless.”

“I’m... sorry.”

“Sorry?” He drags his touch along your jawline, “for what?”

“I... was I bad?” You ask.

He once more looms over you and you brace yourself. He kisses your forehead and slowly retracts his arm, “you are too good, doll. If I don’t stop myself...”

You look around, fluttering lashes, shaky hands, and slowly bend forward. You gather up the books and slowly sit back. You stare forward, stunned stupid as the feel of his lips lingers. It wasn’t bad, just new, a little bit scary. Just like his words.

What would happen if he didn’t stop himself? Could you stop him?

🃏

The car rolls through a gate topped with golden points. You peer up at the urban mansion. You’ve never been to this part of town. The towering homes and curated lawns make you feel tiny. More so than usual.

You fumble to undo your seatbelt as Merv opens the door. You slide out ahead of Bucky and he trails after, his hand on your back as he guides you up the stone walk to the front door. He punches in a code into the keypad and lets you in ahead of him.

As you enter, you smell maple and bacon. He stays close to you, directing you with a point over your shoulder. You enter a dining room, the large table only set for two. He takes the books from you and sets them aside on the corner table. You swallow tightly.

“My personal chef should be about done,” he pulls out a chair and looks back at you expectantly.

You scurry up and sit with a thank you. He tucks the chair in under you and takes the chair on the other side of the corner, still close. Before you can settle in, a woman appears with two stemmed glasses. She sets one down before each of you as Bucky nods in fleeting acknowledgement, though his blue eyes only twinkle in your direction.

“Smells good,” you chew your lip nervously and his gaze follows the gesture.

“Nothing but the best, doll,” he winks and sips from his glass.

You do the same, surprised by the bubbliness. There’s a slight tang to the orange juice you don’t expect. He’s still watching you, seemingly amused by the play of emotions on your face.

“What?” You give a brittle giggle.

“You,” he says, “it’s a mimosa...” he leans forward, “still tryna figure out what you like.”

“It’s nice. Sweet,” you look at the glass and take another drink.

“Mm, maybe something strawberry next time,” he suggests.

“Ooo,” you smile but stop yourself as you feel goofy.

You blow out between your lips, trying to expel the tension as his eyes stay stuck to you. His attention is flattering but no less intimidating. You were never one to be in the spot light. You peer around the room, admiring the modern but elegant decor.

“Your house is so nice,” you rub your hands together nervously. “Must be nice living here...”

“Eh, bit empty but not bad,” he says, “lonely.”

“Oh,” you turn back to him.

“Doll,” he pinches the stem of the glass, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. I know I got a reputation, you probably read all about it online. But I’m a changed man... or trying to change.”

You lower your brow in confusion. It’s strange to have anyone, let alone him, explain themselves to you.

“You know, I was with a certain type for a long time but... nothing serious. No one like you.”

Oh, you know. Why would he be with someone like you? You don’t dare to ask the question.

“It’s... okay,” you stammer.

“I don’t know any other way to do this,” he sits back and pushes his hair away from his face, “I’m taking it slow but...” his chest rises and he exhales heavily, “I hope you know how into you I am.”

Your cheeks sting hotly and you can’t help but touch them. You avert your eyes, looking down, then cross your arms across your chest. You look at him and shrug.

“Why?”

He narrows his eyes and brushes his fingers along the trim of his beard. He puckers his lips thoughtfully.

“I didn’t know until I saw you,” he drops his hand, resting it against the table. “I don’t know, you just looked... sweet. A bit lost. But I meant what I said, the skirt was cute. Kinda hoped you’d wear it today.”

“Oh?” You let out apologetically.

“That’s okay, doll, wishful thinking,” he says, “can’t have everything I want at once. I’m learning that.” He sits forward, “you’re teaching me how.”

“I am?”

“Sure you are,” he smirks, “waiting on you, aren’t I?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you twiddle your fingers nervously.

Before it can grow awkward, the same woman returns. She has a tray in her hands, large and spread with serving dishes. She leans it on the table and lays it all out; bacon, sausage, eggs, toast, french toast, waffles, pancakes. Everything you could dream of for a perfect breakfast buffet.

Your stomach grumbles loudly and Bucky tilts his head coyly. Did he hear that? You wait until the woman leaves to reach for your fork and knife, mirroring him as he does the same. He uses the tongs to put some bacon on his plate and offers you some. You take only one, it usually makes your stomach hurt.

“You’ll be waiting on me tomorrow,” he says, as he continues to serve himself. Each time, he adds some to your plate as well.

“I will?”

“Probably a long day for me. You’re gonna have to get into the night shift, doll,” he explains. “Business and all that tripe. I’d rather have you by my side later anyhow. I’m not much of a morning person. Besides, I’ll need something pretty on my arm at the casino.”

“Casino?” You echo.

“Sure thing, doll. I gotta keep a watch over what’s mine,” he insists.

“Right, er...” you look at your plate.

The idea of stepping back into the casino makes your insides jelly. It’s so crowded and bright and busy. And with him, the one person everyone will be watching. At least there are no cameras permitted on the floor.

“Just stick close,” he says, “shouldn’t be hard. I won’t let you get very far.”

He chuckles and you poke at the scrambled eggs. What do you wear? What do you do? Just follow him around like a duckling?

The woman returns, plaintive as she stands in the doorway. You glance over at her but Bucky keeps his attention on his food.

“Thea?” He calls to her.

“Sir, a package,” she declares.

“Ah, yes, bring it in,” he demands and bites into a sausage.

He chews and you opt to turn your focus to the growling in your stomach. You may as well enjoy what you can and you’ve never been shy of a good meal. You pour syrup onto the waffle and dust some icing sugar over it. He’s watching you, you peek up briefly to confirm it. You make your bites small and tidy. You wilt beneath his constant surveillance.

The woman, Thea, returns. Bucky waves her over as she carries a white box. He drops his fork and stands. You hover your cutlery over the plate and watch as he dismisses her with a curt nod.

“Please, enjoy,” he insists as he sets the box on the other side of the array of food.

You stick to your conservative progress, curiously watching him as he pops open the lid of the box. He looks inside and smiles. He goes back to his seat to retrieve his napkin and wipes his hands.

“How do you like them?” He pulls out a shirt, the edges scalloped around the bottom and neck, little purple hearts speckled all over.

“Pajamas?” You wonder aloud.

“Thought they’d be cute,” he smiles and drapes the shirt over the back of the chair in front of them, revealing the matching shorts. “You can take some pictures for me tonight.”

You nearly choke. You tried to forget that picture. Both of them. His and yours. Right then, you can only think of him in the towel.

“I’ll have it packed up with the books for you to take,” he puts the pajamas back in the box and closes the lid. “Let’s finish our food.”

“Uh, okay, thank you,” you stammer.

“Doll, it’s all just beginning,” he sits and reaches for his mimosa, holding it out. You take yours and he clinks your glass. “Here’s to us.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #casino au #mcu #marvel #all in #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

257 notes · View notes

mountttmase · 9 hours

Text

Tell Me Now

Note - just a cute lil mtc blurb based on a TikTok I saw yesterday. I hope you guys like it 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 1.1k

Warnings - fluff

The only good thing about coming back home from holiday was getting to sleep in your own bed again, and waking up this morning in your own sheets put you in the best mood ever. You loved the bed the pair of you had shared down in Cornwall but nothing would ever beat the one at home.

Parker was asleep at the foot of the bed. His paws up in the air as he laid on his back and you smiled as he moved them in his sleep as if he was trying to catch something. Your heart melting at how cute he was and you wanted to reach down and pull him up to lay with you.

‘Good morning baby’ you suddenly heard next to you. Turning your head to see Mason looking at you with bleary eyes and a tired smile but you couldn’t help but find him adorable.

This was the perfect morning.

‘Morning Mase’ you whispered, rolling onto your side so he could wrap you up in his arms and as soon as you were both comfy he popped a quick kiss on your lips and you smiled instantly.

‘How did my beautiful fiancé sleep?’ He smiled and you couldn’t help but giggle. Still not used to those words coming from his lips as you’d only got engaged two nights before and it was still strange to hear.

‘Really good, how did you sleep?’

‘I always sleep good next to you’ he whispered, holding you a little closer as he stroked your back and all you wanted was to spend your morning wrapped up in him like this for hours but you knew he was about to rain on your parade.

‘I better get up, sooner I get this appointment out the way the sooner I can get back so we can cuddle some more’

‘Don’t go, I’ll get cold’ you pouted and even though he looked sympathetic you felt him pulling away and he got up to shower.

‘I won’t be long, my love’ he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose softly and you knew you were blushing at the action even though he did it all the time. ‘You just stay right here, yeah? And I’ll bring us some breakfast back’

‘You’re the best’

‘I know’ he laughed, finally leaving you all alone and you snuggled into his pillow as you inhaled his smell.

You scrolled through TikTok as he showered and changed. A video of a boy trying to say goodbye to his girlfriend caught your eye as she refused to tell him she loved him before he went, and his reaction made you giggle. Wondering how Mason would react if you did the same and even thought it was mean, you told yourself you’d give it a go before he left now.

It wasn’t long before he was dressed, coming over to you and Parker with a smile and you tried to keep your face neutral so he didn’t suspect anything and just like usual he said goodbye to Parker first.

‘Bye bye Parker baby, daddy loves you’ he told him. Kissing his nose as he ruffled his ears before his smiley face was directed at you. ‘Love you too, baby’

‘Have a good day’ you smiled back, watching his face drop as he made his way over to you so he could give you a quick kiss on the cheek on his way out and your heart broke for him as your favourite smile vanished.

‘You too’ he whispered, backing up to the door and looking back as he pulled it open but you just smiled and sent him a little wave. ‘Love you’

‘See you later’ you called as he shut the door, holding your giggles in as you knew he’d be back in soon enough to tell you off and as if by magic he was storming back in and over to your side of the bed.

‘No I’m sorry I’m not having that’ he told you, a small smile adorning his lips but you could tell he was a little frustrated with what you’d done. ‘I can’t go out without being told I’m loved so… I love you, have a good day’

‘You too’

‘Stop it’ he laughed, looking down at Parker as if he was trying to get him on side and you knew you were going to break sooner than you wanted to. ‘She’s being mean to me so we’re gonna try this again’ he confirmed. Scratching Parker between his ears and even though Parker looked confused you could tell he was loving all the attention. ‘Bye Parker, love you mate. Bye baby, I love you too’

‘Bye baby, have a good day’

‘What do you mean have a good day?!’ He cried, laughter bubbling up his throat as he stood there bewildered at your behaviour. ‘I’m gonna be late if you carry on like this. Will you just tell me you love me please?’

‘You’re gonna be late then you better go Mase’ you laughed, nodding him towards the door but he stood his ground and his little angry face was the cutest thing you’d ever seen

‘Not until you tell me you love me’

‘Mason-‘

‘I’m off now, goodbye’ he exclaimed, looking at you with raised eyebrows as if he was telling you what was coming next and you were so close to laughing you thought you might burst. ‘I love you’

‘I’ll see you later’

‘Am I gonna have to act this out for you?’ He huffed, jumping on the bed so he could lay on you fully and you couldn't hold it in now. All the suppressed giggles overflowing from your mouth as he tickled your sides repeatedly. ‘I’m going now okay? I love you’

‘Bye Mase’

‘Tell me you love me or I can’t leave’ he laughed, the sounds joining in with your own and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. ‘tell me now before I scream‘

‘I love you’

‘Better, thank you. I love you too’ he winked and with another swift kiss to your lips he jumped up and was walking back out of the door.

‘You’re insane’ you called after him watching him turn to give you a silly smile before he sent you a wave.

‘And you’re mean. I’ll get you back for this’ he promised and with that he was out the door. Leaving you alone with your giggles and the realisation that the man you’d said yes to really was your forever.

I hope you guys like this 🥺🩷 feedback would be appreciated as always

#Mason mount #mason mount one shot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount fan fic #mason mount story #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer imagines #footballer imagine #footballer fan fiction #a mountain to climb series

146 notes · View notes

januaryrabbit · 3 days

Text

seventeen with a tall s/o who flusters them!! (๑>◡<๑)

pairing: svt x gn!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mild cursing because i can’t be normal

other disclaimers/notes: author teasing/poking fun at svt LOL, barely proof read because i am sleepy and its 2am

a/n: hi everyone, I'M FINALLY BACK WITH ANOTHER POST lmao~ hope you all enjoy and THANK YOU MY TALL 😈 ANON HANNIE STAN FOR REQUESTING!! <3 i have more things in the works that i want to post soon, some svt, ateez and nct dream~ pls stay tuned, but for now enjoy!!!

✩‧₊˚seungcheol: SULK!!!!!!!!!!y!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he will still try to protect you He Does Not Care. every time you get flirty with him he just starts pouting like “why are you treating me like this im a grown man…” kinda thing. he will literally try to reach things for you even though he can’t like he’s actively trying to beat you to the punch constantly LMAO!!!! he back hugs you a lot, and you just stand there awkwardly like “pls let me hug you, arent you uncomfortable with your face against my back???” and hes like “No im perfectly fine like this, i just want to give my s/o a hug thanks.” and hes like SO serious. it is actually is kinda uncomfy for his neck tho so after a while he gives in and lets you hug him LOL, but he;s not happy about it >___> (he is!)

✩‧₊˚jeonghan: this man lies for fun………..he messes with people like it’s his JOB…………so when his tall s/o flusters him he tries his BEST to just try to do it back. HOWEVER unbeknownst to you, jeonghan his having a fucking existential crisis over this in his mind. every time you tease him, it sends him into a spiral, questioning his entire god damn life. jeonghan literally lays down in bed one day after hanging out with you and he’s like “this feeling…………what is it……………………my face……..why is it WARM……………” he will literally google (in incognito mode. can’t have the bros seeing this after all) “what does it mean when you feel shy-embarrassed-butterflies in your stomach” because he this feeling is FOREIGN to him!!!!! once he realizes that this is what it means to be flustered he’s just like “oh my god. who have i BECOME!!!!!!!!!!!” and then his eyes widen. “am i the babygirl??????”

✩‧₊˚joshua: i feel like if it’s applicable to the situation, joshua is going to do everything in his power to try to repeat the gesture back to you to fluster you back. i swear to god joshua makes your relationship the Flustering Olympics. he will try to outdo you at any turn. one time you ruffled his hair and he was like You know what. and then he reached up to ruffle YOUR hair!!!! you kiss his cheek, he’ll reach back up to give you one too. he refuses to be the only one who’s constantly feeling shy and mushy - it’s gross and not fair.

✩‧₊˚jun: he is STRUGGLING…..like. i feel like he’s oblivious to your teasing at first, like why are they always reaching to get stuff for me….what’s up with all the headpats??? do they think I’M ACTUALLY A CAT?????? i feel like jun would just straight up ask you that unprompted. like “y/n we need to talk, why do you keep petting me and pinching my cheeks, do you think im a real cat we need to get you checked out grandma.” and youre literally like WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT LIKE ACTUALLY, I JUST THINK YOU[RE CUTE AND SMALL………..anyway he gets real embarrassed after you say that and just accepts the babygirl title that has been thrust upon him

✩‧₊˚hoshi: he is the babygirl of seventeen so he is absolutely RELISHING in this. he will let you do whatever you want with him and he even plays into it too like tbh i think hoshi likes being taken care of even though hes part of hyung line and the performance leader :3 bro is giggling every time you lean down to pinch his cheeks or use his head as an arm rest lmao. this is his world and you’re just in it !!! always asks you to take pics of him when you;re out doing things together, and always gives you picture credit in his captions lol. is the type to drunk text you asking you to pick him up and drive him home from drinking with the boys, and is super clingy to you as you both say your goodbyes to everyone. yeah if you treat him as such, this guy will become a domestic baby girl for you LMFAO

✩‧₊˚wonwoo: quietly flustered at all times. this guy unironically does NOT know how to fcking react when you tease him like this….he’s seriously the type to be like “y/n stop this is seriously bad for my heart wtf” like one time you leaned down and kissed his cheek and he just froze. he was convinced that for a min he was Actually Not Breathing. he’s the type who’s always like ahhh why are they so cute… whenever you tease him…he’s literally so down bad for you!!! btw every time you ruffle his hair or make it known in some way that he’s smaller than you he will without fail crinkle his nose in embarrassment and shyness lol

✩‧₊˚woozi: angry cat vibes from this man. i have a feeling you two would have a tom/jerry type relationship where woozi WILL NOT tolerate you patting his head, bending down to his eye level, and ruffling his hair. he is a grown man. he might need your help to reach some groceries, but YOU’RE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT and HE WOULD HAVE GOTTEN IT OFF THE SHELF IF HE COULD. i feel like woozi may be one of the only members who would have to ask you to tone it down maybe and not tease him as much LOL. of course he appreciates you and likes affection, but i just think woozi would be like -___- i can take care of myself y/n -__- i can also take care of U y/n -___- let me take care of us -____-

✩‧₊˚minghao: a warmhearted man who just genuinely appreciates the gestures you display for him. sometimes will ask you to reach things for him first just because he knows you’ll do it and it just makes him feel cared for. doesn’t really get flustered per se, but i think he his heart would melt every time you show him any kind of affection :) i think he’s the type to appreciate his partner taking the initiative an equal amount in the relationship, so i think he’d be pretty happy w you doting on him a bit lol. he doesn;t realize your intention is to fluster him at all and you end up never telling him because the look of love he has when you pinch his cheeks is worth anything

✩‧₊˚dk: he’s literally svt #1 dude kisser like HE’S usually the one causing people to blush,,,,,......if someone behaved that way toward him, i think he would die because i don;t think dk 100% understands how easily he catches people off guard with his physical affection!!! so like when it happens to him he’s just like OH MY GOD IS THIS HOW WOOZI FELT WHEN I KISSED HIM………….i feel like if you bent down to kiss his cheek suddenly he would become quiet af and suddenly can’t look you in the eyes LMAO like YOU KILLED HIM!! HE’S DEAD!!! btw he reacts this way every single time

✩‧₊˚mingyu: mingyu is puzzled. he wasn’t aware that these emotions were ones he would ever experience. he recalls seungkwan scolding him in the past for purposely doing things to fluster girls (i.e. flexing his muscles to people at the gym, flashing his smiles at baristas when theyre getting coffee, etc), and he never understood why seungkwan always told him to stop behaving like that until he started dating you. being constantly doted on like his was literally killing him…he;s never been on the receiving end of playful teasing like this before, and he;s literally so shy that he doesn’t know what to do with himself!!

✩‧₊˚seungkwan: he is crisis….he wakes up everyday looking in the mirror and is like “you will NOT get flustered today. you WILL be normal, and unphased, even if they kiss your forehead.” and everyday he fails himself. every time you hand him a mug from the top shelf, every time you slink an arm around him, every back hug you give him, he can’t help how warm his face gets - it’s actually kind of annoying how much of an affect you have him. one time he was thinking about the sudden cheek kiss you gave him before work while pouring himself a glass of water and it literally began to overflow. seungkwan remembers that day as a particular sickening reaction to your tomfoolery….

✩‧₊˚vernon: lmao i feel like the first time you like give vernon a headpat in his mind he’s just like “oh shit why am i getting nervous, i didn;t know i was into this lmao” dfjsdklfjsd. like every time you fluster him hes just pleasantly surprised and goes along with it because he kinda likes being the one taken care of. i’d say that he gets flustered most of the time you try to get a reaction out of him, but sometimes when his tolerance is particularly high, he’s able to flirt back to fluster you too. i think the longer you two have been together, the easier it is to throw back that behavior at you LOL. i feel like you both are always teasing each other and laughing all the time ~___~

✩‧₊˚dino: a BABY GIRL WHO WON’T ADMIT IT!!! bro talks a big talk to his friends about how he isn’t a kid anymore and how he’s a grown man now and yayayayayyayaya. but the moment you headpat him, he’s reduced to a blushy mess. i think if you reached down to boop his nose, he would literally Die on Impact. like. he really thinks he’s normal and the more dominant one in the relationship but lean down to make eye contact with him or rest your head on top of his and he will fucking pass away. after the initial resistance, i think hes someone else who would relish in being babygirl, but only in private!!!! there are things his hyungs do NOT need to know…………………..

112 notes · View notes

11rosebunny · 2 days

Text

Togame has tried to interlock his toes with yours while cuddling together once.

Taiga cleans almost every part on his body whenever he showers, he's a spanking clean man (even cleans the back of his ears, behind his knees, heels, shins, lower back, bellybutton, literally every place you can think of).

Sometimes, Suo likes to speak to you in different languages to see if you can understand him (he often listens to different languages). One time he insulted you in your native tongue and was surprised that you snapped back.

Sakura has the worse spice tolerance.

Hiragi has no clue what an indirect kiss is. He'll pass you his drink or food that he just put his lips on and have no problem with you biting the same place where he just bit. Umemiya called him out one time for him sharing an indirect kiss with you. He ended up beating the man.

Kaji will beat the shit out of anyone, regardless of your gender (only if you pick a fight with him first).

Endo has a specialty for breaking teeth (stole this from Hanma from TR....).

Mitsuki has fallen asleep from you talking once. He wouldn't stop apologizing for days when you ignored him.

When you're finally dating Taiga, he has no shame farting in front of you. He'll do it right beside you and say "Oops, sorry."

Tomiyama used to bite people when he was younger.

Nirei would always lose his pencils and pens and one time used a half bitten off pencil that he found on the floor right before test during elementary.

Mitsuki is a horder. He keeps all of the packaging for any of his belongings (boxes, plastic wraps with designs, cardboard boxes of the company, etc) purely because he thinks they're too good quality to throw out. On the side note, he finds some of the packaging to be too cute to throw away.

Sugishita really hates doing his hair, thus why it's always kept down all the time.

117 notes · View notes

aealzx · 21 hours

Text

“So… Leo sent me to give you guys the scoop, huh.” April’s comment came from the doorway where she had taken temporary residence, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed much like Raphael had been shortly before. The comparison caused Don to smile internally, but he thankfully remembered to keep it off his face this time.

Don thought about joining April in making light of the situation, but eventually settled against it. “He said you and Mikey were the only ones able to talk about it.”

April hadn’t been expecting any of their hosts to take them seriously on the matter, so the response caught her off guard for a moment. But she fell into the mood easily, and dropped her arms to slouch over to the table Lil Mikey was on, scooting up next to him. “Well… he’s not wrong,” she agreed, not looking all that excited to be discussing the matter. “Everyone already knows the bulk of what happened, so it’s not like we really have to talk to understand…. Sometimes I wonder if that makes it worse though. We never had to figure out how to put what we felt into words.”

As Raphael pulled up another stool to sit on, Don prodded April to continue, being able to understand her concerns. “...Can you tell me what happened? What Leon’s flashbacks are over. All the injuries.”

The spunk April usually had was hard to muster up. And after a moment of trying she ended up giving in with a huff. “Sure. I guess,” she relented before drawing a breath to give the long story. “About six months ago New York - our New York- got invaded by three aliens from another dimension called the Krang. They used to be from space, but ended up sealed in something called the Prison Dimension by mystic warriors some hundreds or thousands of years ago. And then the Foot clan from our dimension found the key and let them out. As far as the city knows some mysterious heroes just showed up and blew up their mother ship before disappearing. But… well, it’s a different story for those heroes.” The look April gave Lil Mikey was full of fondness, pride, as well as heartache and concern even as Lil Mikey gave her a brief toothy smile in return.

“...Judging by all the fresh scars almost all of you have, I’m guessing no one got out of that uninjured,” Don commented, showing that he was following well and understood it hadn’t been one of those lighthearted children’s stories for them. “...Yeah. Casey, Splints and I took care of Lady Brainface on the ground. But the boys had to deal with their leader in the sky. And this was after they took Raph hostage and mind controlled him. That’s what got his eye all messed up, from ripping the parasite out I hear,” April continued, gesturing at her own right eye when talking about Raph’s eye. “We couldn’t really beat them, y’know? So we had this plan to just send them back to the Prison Dimension by Donnie piloting their spaceship back through the portal, and then everyone escaping before we closed it. Except…” She had to pause, swallowing around the lump that had formed in her throat. “Except the stupid freak of nature wouldn’t stay put, so Leo got the stupid idea to hold him back in the Prison Dimension himself and have Casey close the portal on both of them. If Mikey hadn’t have… If…. Well, let’s just say Mikey is the reason Leo’s still with us.”

So that was it. This group of teenagers had fought against something they shouldn’t have had to, and had barely survived through a clever plan that almost involved self sacrifice. No wonder they were all so affected.

“Well, I just brought him home. It’s thanks to Barry and Dad and Mom that we’re all okay now,” Lil Mikey chimed in, giving his best attempt at a smile while swinging his feet slightly.

Three people. Don noted the name of three people helping them, and also the omittance of Leon being mentioned as part of the team of medics. “...How bad was the damage? What injuries did everyone have?” Don was almost reluctant to ask, especially after Lil Mikey’s smile fell so quickly.

“... A lot,” Lil Mikey admitted, looking to the ground. “Of the four of us I was the best. Just some throat bruising from being choked, and then all these burns that ended up scarring from opening the portal to save Leo. The others… my brothers kept protecting me.” The last line was almost a whisper as Lil Mikey blinked a tear from his eye and quickly raised a hand to brush it from his cheek.

“All of the scars you see on Leo and Raph are from it. Leo was bedridden for a while. Cracked shell, broken ribs, broken knee, cracked eye bones, and a bunch of bruises and smaller fractures all over the place. Raph ended up with that gash on his shoulder and missing a piece of his shell from protecting Leo before he got caught. And then it also ended up dislocated later, and his eye took forever to get the infection out of. And then Donnie…,” April paused, giving a slight huff and shake of her head. “The Krang ship required biological integration or something like that to pilot. So Donnie ended up in a coma for six days, along with wounds wherever the ship was connected to him. Then also both his arms got broken, and some minor internal bleeding. Mikey says those last two were from him protecting him from the Krang leader punching them off the ship.”

By the time April finished explaining Raphael was resting his head in his hands, and Don was staring down at his own hands. There were a lot of events in their own lives that they could use to easily relate to what April and Lil Mikey had told them. They had made it through their own troubles, Raphael could still remember being stuck to a bed when his ribs were broken. And their own brother Mikey had ended up with chronic leg and ankle injuries ever since both his legs had been broken in the same event. Heck, even Leo had ended up in a coma for a time, but it hadn’t been for six days. There were so many similarities, but for some reason it was hard to accept that all of this had happened at once to this group of teenagers.

“... Mikey,” Raphael spoke up finally, not yet looking up.

“Y’yeah?” Lil Mikey asked, startled about being addressed now.

“....Is it alright if I hug you?” Raphael then asked, feeling a little embarrassed now that the words were in the open, but not willing to take them back in the slightest.

It helped that after a moment of stunned silence Lil Mikey sputtered a soft laugh. “Sure you can. Hugs are great,” he accepted, raising his hand.

It was enough for Raphael to finally pull his head away from his hands, standing up to walk over and scoop Lil Mikey off the table and into a bear hug. It earned another surprised laugh from Lil Mikey, but he ended up just giving a content hum. Hugs always made him feel a little better.

“...You didn’t do this because you felt you had to, yeah? It wasn’t because someone made you do it. No super soldier requirement duty kind of bullcrap, right?” Raphael suddenly asked, remembering a few days before when Lil Mikey had mentioned that someone had created him and his brothers to be super soldiers.

“Huh?” Lil Mikey voiced, momentarily confused. “No, of course not. We did it because we wanted to help people, and because we were the best ones for it. Sure we got hurt, but if regular humans tried to deal with them, or the yokai, I think there would have been a lot more deaths. It’s … Yeah, it’s scary, and I’m still scared sometimes. But I’m still glad we could help everyone.”

They did it to help. They were all of some kind of protective type of personalities it seemed. And after a moment’s thought about how they interacted with each other that became even more obvious. The way Leon shielded Lil Mikey when he thought Raphael might hurt them in retaliation for holding a blade to his throat. The way Donnie’s first move had been to order them to help Lil Mikey and then create a shield around them. The way Lil Mikey refused to let them see Donnie’s back until they told him he might be injured, and even after being so critical of the way they handled him. And the way Raph ignored his brokenleg for the sake of hiding Donnie underneath himself when Donnie had been distressed over Casey’s antics.

It took some time for Raphael to respond, just holding Lil Mikey in a protective hold of his own, before he drew a deep breath and slowly released it. “...Let’s get you back to your brothers… Both of you,” he suggested, including April in the group of siblings since it was obvious now that she had an almost life long connection with them beyond just friends.

“I’ll bring the supplies out to the living room to take care of changing the bandages on Lil Raph’s leg. Then we can bring you guys to an actual bedroom to sleep for the night. Hopefully it’ll be more comfortable than being stuck in the infirmary for more time than you’d probably like,” Don spoke up now, adding support to the suggestion. These kids had probably seen enough of infirmaries for a while, and being back in one probably wasn’t helping them feel comfortable enough to fully relax.

April ended up watching Raphael start to leave with Lil Mikey with slightly wide eyes, and slightly turned back to Don, delaying her own departure. “I thought I would have to say a lot more,” she admitted, having expected a way longer conversation than that.

The comment earned a brief smile from Don, understanding her thoughts after they were said. “We can fill in the blanks well enough. It’s actually worse to keep asking questions before the affected person is ready to talk about it. I just wanted enough to have an idea on what I, what we, need to be careful about so we don’t end up causing more harm than good,” he explained, moving to follow her from the room since he’d already gathered all the items he needed to tend to Raph.

“Huh,” April grunted, still semi surprised that that was all they needed, but also still grateful for it. It only took her a few steps before she voiced a new thought that came to her mind. “How much shit have you guys gotten into?”

The question caught Don slightly off guard, but only because of the phrasing, and he ended up huffing a short laugh. “A lot,” he responded with a slanted grin.

____________________

This one was easier to get soon 'cause it was mostly just retelling stuff that already happened X'D

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #long post #writing #fanfic #cross dimension kidnapping #rise + 2003 crossover

69 notes · View notes

luv-sims · 3 days

Text

our epic love!

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

your epic love story with the infamous jake sim, your academic rival turned luv of ur life <3

jake sim x fem reader

warnings | kissing, angst (barely, like not even.)

2.2k

my second post!! I love this trope and I love jake :( pls cut me some slack btw I got lazy near the end 😭😭

The first time you met the infamous Jake, it was your first day at the prestigious Seoul Academy. Your parents had moved back to South Korea for work, and you found yourself thrown into a world of intense academic pressure and relentless competition. From the moment you stepped into the classroom, it was clear that Jake Sim was the golden boy.

He was sitting at the front of the room, surrounded by a group of friends, laughing at something you couldn't hear. He had an easy charm, a confident aura that made you feel small and insignificant. As you introduced yourself to the class, you could feel his eyes on you, assessing, judging.

"Another transfer student," he murmured to the boy next to him, loud enough for you to hear. "We'll see how long this one lasts." As his best friend Sunghoon chuckled,

The comment stung, but you refused to let it show. You had something to prove, not just to Jake, but to yourself. You had always been a top student back home, and you weren't about to let some arrogant dickhead boy in need of some ass-kicking get in your way.

From that day on, you and Jake were locked in a fierce competition. Every test, every assignment, every debate became a battleground. Jake was brilliant, there was no denying that, but so were you. Your grades were always neck and neck, the top spot constantly shifting between the two of you.

The tension between you was thick. You would exchange sharp words in the hallways, challenge each other in class, and glare at each other during school events. It was exhausting, but it also pushed you to be better, to work harder, and that’s all you needed.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the library, buried under a mountain of books. Finals were approaching, and you were determined to outscore Jake, even at the cost of your well being. You were so focused that you didn't notice him sitting a few tables away, watching you with an unreadable expression biting his lip.

"You're going to burn out if you keep this up," he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You looked up, startled. "I don't need your advice, Sim."

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Suit yourself. Just don't come crying to me when you crash and burn, while I get 100%."

You glared at him, anger bubbling up inside you. "I won't. And for your information, I don't plan on crashing and burning. I'm going to beat you Sim." Slightly pouting.

Jake's eyes flashed with something that looked almost like admiration. "We'll see about that." He says softly.

The competition continued, but something was changing. You started to notice things about Jake that you hadn't before. The way his brow furrowed in concentration when he was working on a difficult problem, the way he bit his lip when he was nervous, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about.

You told yourself it didn't matter. Jake was still your rival, and you couldn't afford to be distracted. But it was getting harder to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when he was around, the way you found yourself thinking about him when you were supposed to be studying.

One evening, you stayed late at school to finish a project. The building was quiet, almost eerie, and you were starting to feel a little uneasy. Just as you were about to pack up and leave, the door opened, and Jake walked in.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I forgot some notes."

You nodded, turning back to your work. You could feel his eyes on you, and it was making it hard to concentrate.

"Do you ever take a break?" he asked after a moment.

"Do you?" you shot back, not looking up.

Jake sighed, walking over to your table. "Look, Y/N, I know we don't get along, but this is getting ridiculous. We're going to make ourselves sick if we keep this up."

You finally looked at him, surprised by the concern in his voice. "Why do you care?"

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "Because... I don't know. Maybe I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. For the first time, you saw a glimpse of vulnerability in Jake, and it made your heart ache. But it also made you scared.

“Don’t act like you care, Sim.” You say with a shaken voice before tearing your gaze away from him.

Despite your resolve to keep your distance, you found yourself working with Jake more often against your will even after that vulnerable moment. It started with a group project that neither of you could avoid, but it quickly became something more. You began to see that Jake wasn't just a rival, he was a person with his own struggles, fears, and dreams.

One evening, as you were working on your project in the library, you found yourself opening up to him about your fears and insecurities. Jake listened, his usual cocky attitude gone, replaced by a quiet understanding.

"I know what it's like to feel like you have to be perfect all the time," he said softly. "My parents expect nothing less from me. It's exhausting."

You looked at him, surprised by his honesty. "I didn't know. You always seem so... confident."

Jake laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "It's all an act. I'm just as scared as you are."

In that moment, something shifted between you. The rivalry was still there, but it was tempered by a newfound understanding and respect. You began to see Jake not as an enemy, but as someone who was just as driven and passionate as you were.

As the weeks passed, you and Jake grew closer. The late-night study sessions became a regular occurrence, and you found yourself looking forward to them. You would talk about everything and nothing, your conversations flowing easily.

But beneath the surface, there were feelings that neither of you were ready to acknowledge. You would catch Jake looking at you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart race, and you knew that your own feelings were growing stronger.

One evening, as you were walking home together after another late-night study session, Jake stopped suddenly, turning to face you.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice tense with emotion.

Your heart pounded in your chest. "What is it, Sim?"

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "I... I think I'm falling for you."

The words hung in the air between you, charged with emotion. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Jake leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss.

Your hands lingered onto his soft hair, slightly deepening the kiss before he groaned in your mouth pulling you closer by your neck.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. All the anger, the rivalry, the tension melted away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection you shared.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your hearts racing.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Jake admitted, his eyes filled with vulnerability.

You smiled with a gentle look in your eyes, your own feelings finally breaking free. "Me too, Jake. Me too.”

After that night, things between you and Jake changed. The rivalry was still there, but it was tempered by the growing affection you felt for each other. You found yourselves stealing moments between classes, sharing secret smiles and whispered conversations, and definitely not heated make out sessions in the corner of the library.

But as much as you wanted to shout your feelings from the rooftops, there was a part of you that was still scared. You had built your identity around being the best, and you didn't know how to let go of that.

One afternoon, as you were walking to class, you saw Jake talking to a girl from his study group. She was laughing at something he said, her hand resting on his arm. Jealousy surged through you, and you turned away, your heart aching.

You guys kiss and the next second he’s flirting with some random girl in your year?

Later that evening, as you were working in the library, Jake found you, his expression concerned.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting down across from you.

You shook your head, trying to hide your emotions. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Jake reached out, taking your hand in his. "Please, talk to me. I can tell something's bothering you, plus you haven’t even spoken to me all day.. I miss you” he says with a pout.

You looked into his eyes, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I saw you with that girl today. I know it's silly, but I couldn't help feeling jealous. And, I don’t know. I guess I feel a bit used…?”

Jake's eyes softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. "Y/N, you have nothing to worry about. She's just a friend. You're the one I care about. I’d never use you, don’t even think that baby.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked away, ashamed of your insecurities. "I just... I don't want to lose you."

Jake stood up, pulling you into his arms. "You're not going to lose me, Y/N. I promise." As you cry into his embrace.

As the final exams approached, the pressure became almost unbearable. You and Jake were both pushing yourselves to the limit, and the stress was taking its toll on your relationship, and it was definitely not for the best.

You found yourselves snapping at each other over little things, the tension building until it was almost too much to bear.

One evening, after a particularly heated argument, you found yourself alone in the library, tears streaming down your face. You felt like you were falling apart, and you didn't know how to fix it, like everything around you was drifting away.

Just as you were about to give up, Jake walked in, his expression filled with regret.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said, sitting down next to you. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm just so stressed, and I took it out on you.”

You looked at him, your heart aching. "I'm sorry too. I know you're under a lot of pressure, and I should have been more understanding." You say sniffling.

Jake reached out, taking your hand in his. "We both are. But we need to remember that we're in this together. We're stronger together, I love you remember?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears. "You're right. We can't let the pressure tear us apart, and you know I love you too..”

You say leaving a soft kiss on his lips, as he grins and kisses you gently again.

Jake pulled you into a hug, his arms tight around you. "We'll get through this, Y/N. Together."

The day of the final exams arrived, and the atmosphere at Seoul Academy was electric with tension. You and Jake walked into the exam hall together, your hands brushing lightly as you took your seats. You exchanged a look, a silent promise to give it your all, and no matter the outcome you would both be there for each other.

The exam was grueling, each question more challenging than the last. But you could feel Jake's presence beside you, a steadying force that gave you the strength to keep going. As you scribbled down your answers, you thought back to all the late-night study sessions, the whispered confessions, the stolen kisses. You knew that no matter what the outcome, you and Jake would face it together.

When the exam finally ended, the relief was overwhelming. You and Jake met outside the hall, the tension in the air dissolving as you fell into each other's arms.

"It's over," Jake said, his voice filled with disbelief.

You nodded, your heart pounding. "We did it."

Jake smiled, his eyes shining with pride. "No matter what happens, I'm proud of you, Y/N. We've come so far."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "I'm proud of us."

The day the results were posted, the school was buzzing with anticipation. You and Jake walked to the bulletin board together, your hands tightly clasped. As you approached, you could see a crowd of students gathered around, their expressions a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed through the crowd, scanning the list for your names. When you found them, your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N... we're tied," Jake said, his voice filled with awe.

You looked at him, a smile breaking across your face. "We're both at the top."

Jake laughed, pulling you into his comforting embrace. "We did it! We really did it!"

As the crowd cheered around you, you felt a sense of triumph and relief. All the hard work, the late nights, the moments of doubt and fear—it had all led to this moment. And you had done it together.

With the final exams behind you and the results in hand, you and Jake began to look toward the future. You both had your sights set on prestigious universities, your dreams finally within reach.

One evening, as you sat together in the school's garden, Jake turned to you, his expression serious. "Y/N, I've been thinking a lot about what comes next. I want us to stay together, no matter where we end up."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. "Me too, Jake. We've come this far together, and I can't imagine my future without you."

Jake took your hand, his eyes filled with determination. "We'll make it work. We can apply to the same schools, support each other through whatever challenges come our way."

You nodded, feeling a sense of certainty and hope. "We've already proven that we can overcome anything, as long as we're together."

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you, Y/N. And I always will."

Tears filled your eyes as you kissed him back, your heart bursting with emotion. "I love you too, Jake. Forever."

As you held each other, the sun setting behind you, you knew that your journey was just beginning. There would be challenges ahead, but you had each other. And that was all you needed.

epilogue

Years later, as you stood on the stage of your graduation ceremony, you looked out into the crowd and found Jake's eyes. He was standing with his classmates, a proud smile on his face. You had both been accepted to the same university, and your bond had only grown stronger with each passing day over the years.

As you walked across the stage to receive your diploma, you felt a sense of accomplishment and gratitude. You had achieved so much, and you had done it with the person you loved by your side, Jake Sim, the love of your life.

After the ceremony, you and Jake found each other in the crowd, your arms wrapping around each other in a tight embrace.

"We did it," Jake said, his voice filled with emotion. "We made it."

You smiled, tears of joy streaming down your face. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Jake cupped your face in his hands, his eyes shining with love. "And I couldn't have done it without you. We're a team, Y/N. Always."

“Always” you whispered staring at your engagement ring before wrapping your arms around Jake’s neck kissing him, as he wrapped his comforting arms around your waist.

As you kissed, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the love you shared. You knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand.

And that was all you needed.

@luv-sims

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #jake imagines #jake fanfic #jake sim #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen drabbles #enhypen smau #sim jaeyun #sunghoon imagines #enha imagines #enha x reader

94 notes · View notes

unluckilyimnot · 1 day

Text

reader hugging them for the first time

Characters : mikey, chifuyu, kazutora, koko, rindou, sanzu, wakasa

asked by : @ejtheoneandonly

m.list | rules

note: i hope it's what you expected ! it's been a while since i write for them, it makes me nostalgic

Mikey isn’t really surprised when your arms wrapped around him for the first time. His eyes widened a little at the comforting feeling but soon, a huge smile flashed on his face before he turned to look at you slightly.

Something is warming up in his heart and he can’t put his finger on it. All he knows is that he wants to feel it again.

Chifuyu felt like he was in a manga. You grabbed his waist, pushed your cheek on his and snapped a picture with your phone. All of this happened so fast he didn’t get to process the moment but as your hand lasted a little around his back, his cheeks were already burning.

But he has to play it cool, leaning in as you showed him the picture. “We’re cute ! Send it to me later !”

future!roommate!Kazutora’s tears were falling down his face for a while now and when he heard the front door he kinda regretted staying there. You passed the door silently at first before hearing him sniff on the sofa. Taking a few steps after leaving your shoes at the entrance, you gasped slightly when you saw him.

He was pushing his tears away, trying to cover it up, he didn’t have any right to impose that on you. Yet, you didn’t think about it twice and your arms wrapped around his shaking shoulders, pulling him into your chest. “It's okay, it happens.”

Koko felt your body fall on his back while he was still studying at the library. Your arms kindly wrapping themselves around his neck as you took a look above his shoulders. “Are you done soon, Hajime ?”

He can feel his heart beating faster at the surprise, yet loving the way you warmed him up in a few seconds. He thought about it a bit longer than necessary and now, it took him too long to answer without sounding weird. But it’s fine. He could easily get used to you hugging him.

“Rindou I’m scared I can't jump from there ?!” you screamed from the low wall the Haitani brothers just passed by as if it was nothing. Rindou sighed a little before pulling his arms in the air, ready to catch you.

“Come on.” He could feel his ears burn when you smiled at him. He was shocked to see you jump with so much confidence when you were whining a second ago. You fell into his arms, holding onto him longer than you should’ve and he couldn’t help but not let go. He didn’t want to, this felt too good.

Future!Sanzu was shocked, like he never felt something so reassuring in his entière life the first time your hands pulled his head into your shoulder.

“It's alright.” Your fingers lightly brushing through his hair made him close his eyes, enjoying the moment the fullest. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe this wasn't even real. But the warmth engulfing him felt so real that he wanted to keep it for himself only.

Wakasa knew you weren’t the one open with physical touch, but he never intended to ask anything about it or even mention it. He just acknowledged it a long time ago. So when you came to his place that night, crying, face bruised, he felt all his old anger coming back to him, wanting to know what happened. Who did that to you.

But before he could even open his mouth, your arms were wrapped around his waist and you started ugly crying in his chest, wetting his shirt. He froze for a second, processing the whole citation before hugging you closer, feeling proud that you thought of him in this vulnerable situation.

Let me know if you liked it !

Reblog are appreciated ♡

93 notes · View notes

whygalaxy · 2 days

Text

Poor bunny in a golden cage

♡⃕ Relationship} Yandere! Abusive! C!Quackity x Bunny Hybrid! Fem! Reader

♡⃕ Summary} "Quackity was obsessed with you. Your greedy parents beat you to him… What could go wrong?"

♡⃕ TW.} Abusive relationship; Mention of abuse (Physical and Psychological); Non Con explicit; Choking; Sadism; threats; Your parents being jerks; Quackity being extremely abusive; False imprisonment; Mention of stalker; possessive; Dacryphilia; Rough sex; dumbfication; Mild Stockholm syndrome; Mild Size Kink.

♡⃕ Notes} English is not my first language, there may be mistakes. I'm sorry for anything. Not reviewed (Please, it's two in the morning)

This fanfic may not be suitable for sensitive people

You and your parents, a small family of hybrid bunnys, move to Las Nevadas, hoping to find a better living condition. Your parents were constantly arguing recently, as they were poor and wanted to find a new way to earn money.

You sold some carrot cupcakes that you made, in the poorest part of Luxurious City, but it didn't bring in as much profit as your parents would have liked - “300 Dollars a month is a pittance! You can’t buy anything!” Your father screamed, invalidating all your efforts.

୭ 🩹 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🩸

It was a silent night, and you were here, trying to sell at least half of your carrot cupcakes. You could hear some laughter in the distance, you look around, finding two silhouettes walking towards you.

They keep walking, walking straight past you. "Hang on!" You shout. The men turn to look at you, they were both wearing luxurious clothes, they didn't look like they were from here… The man with long black hair caught your attention.

“W-Wouldn’t you guys.. want to buy a carrot cupcake?… it’s only 10 dollars…” You stutter shyly, looking down, your ears flat against your head. The smaller one seemed excited, dirty with green goo. He runs to the stall, grabs one and quickly hands over the money. He takes a bite, savoring the flavor - “it’s very good, Mrs. Bunny!” He says, sounding like a child, you laugh, finding him adorable.

You could feel the other man's gaze on you, you look at him from the corner of your eye. He had a strange gleam in his eyes… Almost… Scary…

The small man waves at you, walking away. The taller man looked at you for a moment longer, before turning and walking away, without saying a word.

୭ 🩹 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🩸

It's been a week since you saw the strange man. Your parents were fighting more and more, and this time, they were cursing you too, saying how useless you were and how you didn't make money for them.

But one day… You come home after a long day of selling cupcakes, your parents were strangely quiet… no fighting…

You see them sitting on the couch, a big smile on their faces. How strange… “Honey! My lovely girl!” Your mother says, getting up to hug you, you thought this was strange, your parents weren't that affectionate… Your father gets up too, hugging you - “You will bring great profit to our family!” he says with an awkward smile.

You were confused, I didn't understand what was happening. What were they referring to? You look at both of them confused - “W-What’s going on?…” You ask, completely confused by the situation.

“The President liked you! Then we sell you for 1.5 million!” His mother screams in joy, making his eyes widen. They… Sold you?! What do you mean, how was that possible? They were your parents, they were supposed to love you, not discard you. You could feel your eyes filling with tears.

“I-I… I can’t accept this… I…” You say, trying to move away. But your parents stop you, they couldn't let your merchandise go out like that. Your mother grabs a glass of water, you were too shaken to notice anything. “Drink, darling.. it will help you” She says, handing you the glass, helping you sit on the couch. You drink, but you feel strangely drowsy, your eyes meeting a black blur, and then you collapse onto the couch.

୭ 🩹 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🩸

You wake up lying down in a comfortable place, your eyes were still blurry, but they quickly adjusted to the light of the place. You sit up, realizing you were on a bed, you look around the room. It was an extremely luxurious room, with shades of gold and red, your eyes widen and shine at the luxurious place you had never seen before.

The room seemed to have some childish tones, with some pink and white touches scattered throughout the room, the bed was full of stuffed animals, mainly rabbits. You get out of bed, trying to explore the room. But as soon as you stand up and take two steps forward, you fall onto the fluffy rug that surrounded the bed. It felt like something was making it impossible for you to walk freely.

You turn around to look at what had made you fall. Your eyes widened, a chain stuck around your ankle, maybe it was the drugs that were in your drink, but you hadn't noticed it before, and it was pretty tight apparently…

You get up, sit on the bed, staring at the big door that was in front of it, your ears pressed against your head, waiting for something to happen… Suddenly, the door opens, your ears quickly perk up.

Your eyes widened when you saw who it was. It was the strange man from that day… Wait, he was the president of this country? He walks up to you, a smile on his face, highlighting the gold tooth he had. You pull away, bumping into the headboard in the process.

He sits on the bed, next to you. He reaches out to caress your cheek, with a gentle smile on his face - “My little bunny… so adorable… you're mine now” He says, his face getting closer to yours, you could feel his breath.

After your first meeting, Quackity felt strangely attracted to you. A shy, small, adorable little thing. So sweet and submissive…it seemed extremely fun to break you.

Quackity chased you for that week, and the more and more he found out about you… the more obsessed he was.

Now you were in this place, totally trapped with this maniac… you didn't know what he had in store for you, and you were afraid of it.

He pulls you closer, stroking your hair. You could hear him whisper - “So beautiful… So small… So… mine”

୭ 🩹 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🩸

One month… one month you were with this maniac, and the feeling was the same as being in hell.

Cuts and purple marks spread all over your body, Quackity took out all his anger on you. He would hit you and cut you, just for his sadistic pleasure, he loved seeing you crying and screaming. Watching you break down little by little, only to become an empty mind completely submissive to him.

It was currently almost two in the morning, the ticking clock noise could be heard. You were trying to sleep but you couldn't, you had a feeling something bad was going to happen… You were currently lying in bed, wearing only a Quackity shirt that was much bigger than you.

Suddenly, the door opens, revealing Quackity. His white blouse had the first three buttons open, his tie was untied. You could smell alcohol and cigarettes coming from him.

He walks towards you, crooked steps indicating he was drunk. You look at him, completely scared, not knowing what he could do to you, trying to move away, but the chain on your ankle stopped you from going that far.

He sits on the bed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to him, your head against his chest. You could feel him smelling your hair - “So sweet…” He whispers in his slightly drunken tone of voice.

You could feel their hands moving over your body. You let out a slight scream when you feel their hands squeezing your ass, you try to move away. He wouldn't do that to you… would he?

He spanks your ass - “Be quiet, be a good girl and accept this. I don’t want to hurt you” His tone of voice was threatening, you were shaking with fear. He pushes you, laying you down on the bed.

He lifts your big shirt that you were wearing, exposing your small breasts, he smiles… You were so cute. He bends down, taking one nipple into his mouth, starting to suck while playing with the other. You moan as his tongue grazes your hard nipple. You scream when you feel him bite your nipple hard, causing tears to run down your eyes.

You could feel him smile, you try to stay quiet, knowing that if you stayed quiet, it would be less worse. He leaves hickey marks on his chest, red and that would probably turn purple later. He forcefully opens your legs, ripping off your panties, clearly out of patience.

He lets out an irritated sigh when he feels that you're not wet for him at all - “I can't believe you're going to make me do this…” He says in a growl. You start to moan softly when you feel his thumb start to rub your clit, and soon one of his fingers enters you, preparing you for his cock.

He was out of patience, trying to finish this as quickly as possible so he could get his cock inside you. One finger soon becomes two, two fingers soon become three. His pace was relentless, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer. You were extremely sensitive, the stimulation on your clit combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers inside you dragged you closer and closer to your limit.

You scream as you cum, your juices running down his fingers. He smiles, removing his fingers from inside you, taking them to his mouth to taste your juices - “So sweet… So sensitive…” He whispers, starting to take off his clothes. He completely unbuttons his white shirt, the red tie at the sides, he pulls his pants and underwear down. His hard cock springs out, its reddened tip oozing precum.

Your eyes widened, heavens… He was big! He holds your hips tightly, positioning his cock in front of your throbbing entrance. You scream as he thrusts inside you, even though you were prepared, it still hurt.

You cry as he pushes his cock all the way inside you, the tip hitting your cervix. He at least had the decency to wait for you to adjust. But soon he starts moving, his pace is never slow, but strong and fast. Hitting your cervix hard, leaving it bruised.

You screamed with each thrust, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. You hated yourself for this, hated yourself for enjoying this. You scream too loudly when his tip hits your G-spot, making you cum hard. He laughs, laughs at how pathetic you are.

He reaches out with both hands, his big hands wrap around your small neck, squeezing lightly. You wrap your small hands around his wrist. trying to push him away? or pull him closer? you don't know anymore.

He continued to fuck you hard, making you more and more stupid. His thrusts soon began to become sloppy, indicating that he was getting closer as well. He soon stops brutally, his grip on your neck tightens, leaving you gasping for air, your nails scratching his wrists as he fills you with hot cum.

You cum again, squeezing his cock as your pussy sucks up his cum. He soon lets go of your neck, red handprints around your neck as you start to breathe again. He pulls his soft cock out of you, laying down next to you as he pulls you closer.

He kisses your forehead and lips, smelling your hair - “My bunny… My good girl… My everything… Mine, just mine..." He says breathlessly, hugging you tightly as he started to sleep. You sit there thinking, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be a good girl for him… In this beautiful luxurious room, like a golden cage…

#quackity x reader #quackity smut #quackity x you #las nevadas #tw abuse #tw noncon #tw abusive relationship #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere male x you #tw sadism #tw choking #tw dumbification #tw stockholm syndrome #bunny hybrid

40 notes · View notes

xxaraaq · 3 days

Text

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙑𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙚

masterlist

Synopsis | Alicent is a Godly woman who's morals stand high above everything else. She's given everything she's supposed to to the realm. She is so selfless, so fucking her husbands brother is the one thing she can keep to herself, right?

Word count | 1.5k

cw | Infidelity, spoken violence, corruption?

Authors note | Hi y'all. I know I haven't posted in literally the longest time ever but if I'm being honest I've been fighting with life it up until about a week ago it was beating my ass. Anyways, I'm back now, and I hope that this will make up for it, enjoy! Not edited.

She is a good queen.

That’s what she thinks to comfort herself whenever the regrets of her past set in. She has done her duty to the realm, giving birth to formidable sons and a beautiful daughter. She did what she was supposed to do, she just happened to do it with the wrong man.

No one could blame her for her choices. Her husband, a now senile, miserable old man who had no romantic love for her, failed in his role as her source of comfort. Once Rhaenyra went off and fucked her uncle in a brothel, she felt as though she had no true friends, no real allies.

No one except you.

You were the youngest of you, Viserys, and Daemon. Meaning that you had no real responsibilities. You had close to if not no chance of inheriting the iron throne, and you accepted it. Instead of struggling futilely trying to climb your way up the line of succession, you sat back, kicked your feet up, and enjoyed the life of a royal, of a Targaryen.

With you and Alicent being so close in age, you only being four years her senior, she found it easier to converse and jest with you compared to her husband and virtually everyone else around her. You were light hearted, a companion she often sought the company of. And even though her fathers concern grew about the influence you have on her that grows with each passing day, she paid it no mind. After all, she was the queen, and no one could tell her no.

It was the day the ‘rumors’ spread about Rhaenyra that you swooped in. Exhausted, you were the first person she went to to deliver the news.

“Your sister has ruined almost any chance she has at marrying a suitable lord.” Alicent huffs, pacing back and forth around the room. You chuckle, amused by the entire ordeal. “She is a princess, maiden or not, my brother will surely find a wealthy husband for my niece.” You say, trying to ease her nerves. It obviously doesn’t help, her looking at you like you have two heads. “This is nothing to joke about. Your niece might run your entire house into ruin with the horrid accusations circling about. Have you no care in what happens?” She yells, desperate to get you to understand her frustration in it all. “Accusations? Alicent, my closest friend, you are no fool. You and I both know she fucked my brother in a whorehouse. You can speak freely with me, I promise you that.” You stand from your chair, making your way towards her. You love your niece and brother, but you’re also not one to deny the truth.

A tear slips from her eye, the stress of it all pouring down on her. “Oh, my dear, don’t cry.” You cup her face in your rough hands. A chill runs down her spine, something she’s never felt before. The look you have in your eyes is not what she’s seen from you before. Your eyes are dark, a smirk on your face that means nothing but trouble.

“You are a good woman, I must say. A loyal wife, an obedient daughter, a great friend. You never fail to be there to fulfill the needs and wants from others around you. But what about your needs, hmm?” You ask, tone sultry with an emotion she can’t pinpoint. “I-I don’t understand what you mean.” She stutters, growing shy from your demeanor. “You know what I mean, Alicent. When’s the last time you’ve truly felt fulfilled? Rhaenyra is too busy chasing after Daemon like a lost pup to spend time with you. Your husband is still stuck on Aemma even though he’s the reason she passed on in the first place, God's rest her soul. And your father, as much as he may love you, sees you as nothing more than a tool. I am the only one who has genuine intentions for you. The only things I care about ensuring is your well-being and happiness. A life full of not knowing what it’s like to be pleasured and to bring pleasure is not one worth living.”

She knows that you mean this deep down in your heart, and that makes her want to give in all the more. ‘We can’t, what if someone finds out?” She asks, fear covering her features. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Who would be so impudent as to try and tell the King that his youngest brother is fucking his wife?” You say.

She thinks for a second, then two, then three. “I’m… I’m not certain that having an affair would be for the best.” She says, backing away until she hits the edge of a table. “Let me show you what I could do for you, please? If you don’t like it, just say the word and I’ll never make an advance again, I promise this to you.” You almost plead, desperation laced through every word you speak. You have to have her, you’re sure you’ll die if you don’t.

Her silence fills the room, making your heart beat all the more harder. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the Gods for having you in their favor the moment she nodded her head yes. It was slow at first, a kiss on the neck, a light caress on her thigh, but then you stopped holding back, and you took her to that table in a matter of minutes. You held your hand to her mouth, trying to keep her as quiet as possible as you fucked into her tight cunt with a fervor you’ve never felt before. Everything about her drove you crazy as you corrupted her. The scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, the way she so futilely used her hand to try and push you from her as your thick cock plowed through her.

Your secret relations kept on through the years, past the birth of Ageon and the rest of the children. The both of you knew that all four of them were yours, words not needed to be spoken to know that you were the one to sire the king's heirs and not the king himself.

As everyone grew, so did the tensions concerning the birth of your niece's sons. You had to laugh when you first saw Jace’s brown tufts of hair. How could she be so transparent about her infidelity? It was Rhaenyra’s actions that truly caused the hatred to stir within Alicent. You knew as well as everyone else that it was only a matter of time before things grew too large to keep a blind eye to it all.

The day that Aemond was maimed was one that nobody could ever forget. It was truly just a blurry haze of squeaky voices, deep insults, and the sound of a sheathed blade. The royal blood that covered the pavement that night would never be forgotten. You were the one that escorted the queen back to her room that night, providing an environment where her tongue could be as loose as need be. You shut the door, the creakiness that shows its age filling the silence. “That vile woman and her, her…” She couldn’t even get the words out, she was so furious. “Bastards? Say it Alicent, we all know it to be the truth.” You say, leaning against the stone wall. She groans, hand running over her face as she goes back to her habit of pacing the room. “The king is so shielded by the love he has for her, he can’t even see the vile things she has done.” She says, pupils so dilated with rage she can’t see straight. “Must I remind you that we are in the same boat as her, only that her’s has started to sink while ours stays afloat?” You say, quick to point out the sins she has also committed. The words catch in her throat, taken aback by your sudden correction. “Are you taking her side?” Her voice trembles with stress as she picks at her nail beds. “Do you not remember how I to this day sneak into you room through secrets passageways to fuck you to sleep every night? How I’ve filled your womb with so much seed I’ve impregnated you four times? Or have you forgotten how all our children are bastards as well?” You say, your voice sarcastically sweet as you grip her waist, pulling her backside flush to her chest. You lay kisses on her neck and shoulders, soothing her tenseness almost immediately. “What happened to our son is a tragedy that may never be avenged. But as he said, the reward for losing his eye was much greater than the pain he suffered.” You whisper in her ear.

She is a good queen, she thinks to herself.

She is a good queen, even as she lets you fuck her up against the bed posts, mouth cover by your calloused hands once more to keep her muffled sounds of ecstasy hidden from the outside world

-Nene

#nene #x reader #alicent #alicent x reader #alicent x male reader #alicent x male! Targaryen reader #alicent x Targaryen! reader #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x male reader

38 notes · View notes

lisbeth-kk · 14 hours

Text

Sherlock fandom.

Warnings: mentionings of torture, injury.

Don’t Tell Him

The pain is greater and more agonising than all the beating he got in that filthy cell in Serbia, because this pain isn’t just physical. Sherlock knows that if he answered John’s insistent questions about who the shooter was, it would break John’s heart, despite what Mycroft says.

“Tell him, brother mine,” Mycroft urges. “John is far more resilient than you give him credit for, and his feelings for you…”

“Don’t!” Sherlock snaps. “The love of his life shot me in the heart. I refuse to add that burden to his confused mind.”

“I agree that he is confused, but not for the reasons you think, Sherlock,” Mycroft says cryptically.

Sherlock closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. He’s not only in constant pain, but he’s also exhausted with all the emotions that this whole business regarding Mary Watson throws his way. It’s so much harder to stay focused and aloof when the painkillers leave his brain all foggy and relaxed. His pining for John comes to the surface, tugging at his heart.

“Go home to Mary,” Sherlock urged John before Mycroft arrived. “She needs you more…”

“I’m staying,” John interrupted in his stubborn tone. “Just fetching some clothes and stuff before I’m going with you to Baker Street tomorrow. Non-negotiable!”

He had lifted his chin in defiance, daring Sherlock to protest. His last words are a puzzle Sherlock still hadn’t been able to deduce.

“You need me, and I need…to…”

***

John has gone to Asda to buy milk, bread and eggs, wile Mycroft stays to keep an eye on his brother, with strict instructions from the good doctor to call if anything changes regarding Sherlock’s pulse, heartrate, temperature, and several other unnecessary trifles. (Sherlock’s words)

“John, for Christ’s sake, go!” Sherlock says exasperated. “I’m fine.”

John looks sceptically at him, grabs his wrist and takes Sherlock’s pulse. When he’s satisfied, he hurries out of the bedroom and descends to the front door, probably running all the way to the shops to reduce his absence to a minimum.

“Are you still convinced that he only has friendly feelings for you?” Mycroft asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Don’t tell him, Mycroft! He can’t know. If he’s ever to realise how much…I…I wish she had finished…”

“Sherlock!”

Mycroft rarely raises his voice but when he does, it speaks volumes.

“I would not survive your demise, brother mine. She can count herself lucky that she didn’t kill you. Even John’s plea for her life would’ve been in vain, her pregnancy notwithstanding.”

Mycroft’s voice trembles with emotions, which is odd to witness.

***

Sherlock has no sense of time anymore, but he thinks it’s been days since his conversation with Mycroft. Something is being delivered, and John’s steps are heavier than usual when he ascends the stairs.

Carrying something. Not groceries. Two bags. One over each shoulder.

When John brings his meds later, Sherlock observes that something is different. John’s face is displaying a variety of conflicting emotions. There’s determination and insecurity, sorrow and relief, anger and hope. The last deduction does something to Sherlock’s shattered heart.

“What’s happened?” Sherlock asks calmly, although he’s terrified of the answer.

John’s voice sounds mechanical, as if he’s rehearsed what he’s about to tell Sherlock.

“Mary left a note. She’s gone. The baby isn’t mine. Her name isn’t hers. She’s apparently an assassin. Worked for Moriarty. She shot you. You knew, and you wanted to shield me. I want you to stop doing that.”

He sheds his clothes down to his pants and tee and climbs carefully into bed. Sherlock’s breath catches in his throat.

Is this real, or a hallucination?

“It’s real, Sherlock,” John tells him, as if he’s the one who’s become a mind-reader.

He lies down beside Sherlock, letting his palm rest over the wound, over his heart. The heart that beats solely for John.

Does he know? If so, how?

“You’re not as subtle as you think, Sherlock. What I saw traces of before this, became clear as day when your brain function was compromised by painkillers. Am I wrong?”

Don’t hide. Tell him.

“No, John. You’re not,” Sherlock says and places his hand over John’s.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @calaisreno @keirgreeneyes @raina-at

@helloliriels @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear

@meetinginsamarra @topsyturvy-turtely @phoenix27884 @jolieblack @221beloved

#flash fic friday #sherlock fandom #sherlock #john watson #mycroft holmes #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #johnlock #FFF255

53 notes · View notes

itmeblog · 2 days

Text

Random Audio Drama Writing Tips

The more characters you add to a podcast the more time it's going to take to do anything.

Details: In order to make characters matter, people need to care for them. The more characters you want people to care about, the more people your audience has to meet, grow attached to, and fortunately (or unfortunately) people need time to grow invested. This means more scenes, more interactions, more information.

This goes twice as much for nuanced characters who aren't meant to be immediately likeable.

This is not mentioning that the larger the cast the more logistical issues you are going to face even if you are doing all the voices. Like... doing all the voices, or scheduling, stamina is a big one for me (After Keryth's voice I have to take a break). How much time can you demand of these people or yourself? Are you paying them or is this volunteer?

On a similar note, the more characters you have, the less nuanced you can make them, and the more important it is to give them distinct and memorable personalities.

If you are working on a time limit (due to budget, personal preference, or just how much time you can dedicate to the project) you should decide what story elements you want to prioritize.

Details: Plot, characters, personal arcs, worldbuilding etc. Are all important parts of a story, but they all take time to express. Now you can have a big cast in a limited series but know that you may have to sacrifice bits of lore for character moments (to show/hit emotional beats) , or straight up tell (rather than show) people what the characters are about, in order to move a plot forward. This tradeoff becomes less likely the fewer characters you have or the more episodes you can create. There's probably always going to be some sort of tradeoff somewhere regardless of the set up you choose (I am sitting on so much lore because I tend to prioritize character beats and plot... not necessarily in that order)

Decide how you're going to use sound! (preferably before you even put pen to paper but that might just be a personal preference)

Details: Of course sound is very important in audio drama but how you use it is going to impact your script and the descriptions you have to provide.

I use sfx to represent a set. As in my characters are there, they are interacting with the environment, I have floor plans and objects they are holding/fiddling with, I know the texture of the ground, I know if they fling their arms they might hit a wall, etc. This means that I can often get away with cursory descriptions in dialogue that can come across fairly naturally. "Oh look the beach!" I don't need to describe the way the waves hit the shore or that the sand looks like this or that, because in the background you can hear the waves, and hear the characters in the sand and I can let people fill in the blanks on their own.

Frankly, I'm an extreme case. This takes a ton of time and makes my podcasts a bit difficult for people with audio processing issues.

Other podcasts use sfx to direct listener attention to important objects or places in the story.

An important rattle, the sound of a body hitting the floor, the clicking of a keyboard, music to indicate emotion. It's less about setting and more about overall vibes and keeping track of plot relevant objects. These tend to require a little more description in the dialogue and there's usually some sort of framing device that facilitates this (they're talking over intercom, they're making captain's logs, they're describing something to a friend, they're making a podcast, they're three narrators in a trench coat, the character just likes to talk to themselves, etc.)

And other podcasts just use music, a set soundscape, or a tape recorder background

These tend to be single narrator and they tend to read like prose! Descriptions are often lush and in depth, usually limited POV. They generally have to describe or tell you everything you need to know!

Each one has its merits and there's no rule saying you have to stick to one for the entirety of a project, or that you can't land in between! And these are relatively broadstrokes.

#random okay-ish writing advice from someone in the trenches

33 notes · View notes

mrsjobarnes · 2 days

Text

Not the Only Cowboy - Chapter 5

Summary: Jake had never been the type of guy to fall first, maybe you’ll be the one to change that.

A/N~ Sorry this took so long guys, I had writer's block, and then uni started and it got put on the back burner! However, I’m back and ready to finish this story! Also a huge Thank you to @angel-0f-verdun for helping me with this!

Jake Sersin x Nurse!reader

Word count: 1,172

Warning: Abuse, Angst, Violence

Likes & comments are welcome!

Please do not steal my work!

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

2 weeks. It took you two weeks for you to leave the guest room. You requested time off and were granted 2 weeks but after that, you’d have to go back, back to the place that no longer felt safe since Blake had found you.

He had crossed the country to find you, he didn’t care about the restraining order or that you had only packed the essentials and moved. No, you were still his, his to control, his to break, his to own till death, and even after that. You were his baby, his honey, his sugar, and he needs you back home. Your love hasn't always been like this. He was your college sweetheart, you were his tutor. His smart, kind, patient, and outgoing Y/N/N. After he graduated he went into the Navy to be a navigator and you continued your nursing school. Once you had graduated you became a civilian nurse serving on base. It was picture-perfect if you ignored the screaming matches and the occasional pushing and shoving. It didn't get bad until you were treating some of the naval men and he saw them flirting with you.

That's when the abuse started, he’d beat you within an inch of your life in places no one could see. He’d even threaten to shoot and kill you if you ran away. No one noticed till you were wearing long sleeves in a Virginia July. That's when your charge nurse Maggie asked you. You tried to lie but the 55-year-old saw right through you. She slipped a paper in your locker later that night with several phone numbers to call for help. You knew that she was just looking out for you but, at the moment you felt hurt and angry. Thankfully, the calm part of you kept that note and hid it in your locker. After six months of plotting with Maggie, the clouds parted and Blake was given orders to be deployed for 2 months. You took that as your chance to run. After saying your goodbyes, you sold your car and changed your phone and phone number, opened up a new bank account and purchased a plane ticket to your new haven.

It was your haven until he showed up. Destroying all you had built up, all of the work you’d put into making this place feel like a safe place had just been squashed by him. So here you are lying in Phoenix’s guest room, scared he’ll break through the second-story windows or the door. He’d threatened to kill you before who’s to say he won’t kill Phoenix to get to you? You need to start over again, how far would you go this time? Coast hopping didn’t work, maybe you needed to go to a northern state, he did hate the cold. Maybe in a small town in Montana, get a job at a hospital this time. Yes, that should work. You’ll just choose the smallest town possible, maybe ditch your phone and switch to a pager, they still had those right? You hear a knock at the front door. Your blood runs ice cold, and quickly you run into the ensuite bathroom and lock the door.

“Hey, Y/N it’s just me,” says Phoenix. “I bought groceries, what do you want for dinner?” she asks from the kitchen. You slowly exit the bathroom and start to head to the door, placing your hand on the handle you stop. Maybe you should just run at night and just take what you had here, grab your car, withdraw most of your money from the bank and run. By not telling anyone it would keep them safe right? Turning around, you text Phoenix that you’re not hungry and ask if she is going out tonight. She replies that she is, unless you want to talk. You tell her to enjoy her night and start researching on a private browser about where to go, maybe Sidney, Montana. It seemed small enough that no one would think to look there, now to look at apartments. After googling for about 30 minutes, Phoenix shouts that she’s leaving. Walking over to the window you peer out waiting till she leaves. Once the coast was clear you quickly started packing a bag and making a mental checklist of what you needed to do.

Pack

Shower

get food

Leave a note

Call Uber to the base

Bank and gas

—

25 minutes had passed and all you needed to do was get food and gas then stop at the bank, but first, you needed to get your car. You bring all of your things to the door. When all of a sudden you hear someone knocking at the front door. “Fuck” you whisper under your breath. Quietly you grab a kitchen knife and look through the peephole. When you are met with the most perfect green eyes. It was just Jake, you sigh and put the knife down. “Go away Jake,” you say through the door.

“Phoenix gave me a key, I’m coming in,” he asks.

“No, go away,” you say. He doesn’t listen and slowly enters the apartment. You grab the knife and point it at him, enraged he didn’t listen. “I said don’t come in Jake,” you say, clenching the knife for dear life. As he crosses the threshold, the two of you make eye contact. He has never seen someone so broken and scared, it breaks his heart.

“Hey Y/N” he says slowly approaching, you clench the knife trying to push back the fear. It's Jake, he’s not going to hurt you, but you thought the same thing of Blake. How could you have been so stupid? “Y/N Imma need you to put the knife down darling, I just want to talk okay?” he said, itching closer to you.

“Jake please leave, I don't want to talk. I just want to be left alone”

“No it looks like you're trying to run” he says pointing to the suitcase and backpack next to the door”.

“Why does it matter if I do? I have only brought trouble into the team's life. I've taken over Phoenix house and probably have a write-up at work for causing a scene. So just let me go, you’ll be fine without me.” you say hesitantly placing the knife down.

“No”

“No? What do you mean, No?” you say looking into his eyes.

“No, what about me? I know that’s selfish but you can’t leave me. I was an ass before I met you, I didn't care if I died on a mission as long as I went out in a blaze of glory, but now you’ve given me something to care about, someone who wants to come home too. So please stay, we can get you help. Cyclone says he could look into it, he just needs your permission.” Jake hesitantly walked up to you and cupped your face.

“Can you promise that you won't hurt me? '' You say as your eyes glisten with tears.

“I promise,” Jake says, pulling you into a hug.

Taglist-

@alana4610

@taytaylala12

@lonelywitchv2

@junegrey2

@novagreen04

@pookie-cleary

@emma8895eb

@littlebadariell

@djs8891

@loving-and-dreaming

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #Jake Seresin x Nurse!reader #top gun #top gun maverick

27 notes · View notes

emilykaldwen · 11 hours

Text

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Eighteen

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

Tropes: Childhood Sweethearts/Friends to Lovers, Generational Trauma and Cycles of Abuse, It's All About the Character Development, Unreliable Narrators, Multi-POV, Canon Divergent, Bisexual Aegon II Targaryen, Book/Show Mash Up, Fix-It Of Sorts, Stopping the Cycle of Abuse before it gets us all killed, Team Neutral, fairy tale vibes meets victorian medievalism meets grrm

No tag list. please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications for updates or subscribe on AO3

Tumblr Masterpost

AO3 LINK

Author's Note: All my love and many thanks to @vampire-exgirlfriend for being my cheerleader, for taking my face in her hands and telling me that I word good, and that the story I'm telling is one that's valid. We all need a cheerleader like her.

EXPLICIT CONTENT

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - She'll Still Be Mine

Aegon distracts himself from his woes with some physical healing, weird talks with both his dads, and a night out with his best friend.

Emotions were a tempest inside Aegon Targaryen as riotous as the churning waters of Blackwater Bay. He slammed the heavy bedroom door behind him, the fury of it shaking the candles in their holders on the small table inside the door. Sunfyre was a growling, heated presence inside the cage of his ribs, pulsing in time with each beat of his heart. How he craved for fang and claw so all would feel his fury.

Too hot. His skin felt too hot, too tight, too much.

Aegon tore at the buckles of his doublet, peeling off the rich, green brocade and tossing it aside. It did little to assuage his feelings. Sick curled in his gut; an impotence he could do nothing about. He yanked at the ties at the throat of his linen shirt and his eyes landed upon the bottles on the table, where they’d been residing for the past few weeks.

‘Mother wishes you to dry out’, his siblings had said the night after him and Aemond had been dragged back to the keep, the betrothal announcement and his brother’s words swirling around his head. No more wine, no ale, no beer. Only ciders, or the watered wine they’d break their fasts with.

What good did that do him now, when nothing was at the ready to distract him anymore? Besides, it would be a shame for all these nameday gifts to go to waste.

Aegon cocked his head as he approached, swiping up the first bottle. He ran his thumb along the waxed cork, the familiar Arbor seal pressed on top. Thunder rumbled outside as Aegon worked his dagger along the seal with practiced ease, bits of wax falling to the floor like petals as he leaned against the window pane. The cool air that accompanied the end of the harvest season felt good on his heated skin, the spray of rain just outside a balm even if it was not quite what he needed.

What kind of man was he who could not protect who he loved the most? Over a moon had passed since his nameday, since Abby’s horrible scream ripped through the night. All Larys Strong had found in his investigation was that the bastard had worked in the kitchens for the past year. No family, a “quiet fellow”, with a few dalliances with the serving maids.

Nothing.

What cold comfort it was to his hunītsos, who could not sleep alone and had taken to his sister’s bed or pulled Wylla into her own. Few nights she’d even crept into his bed, mouth wet against his throat as he distracted her from her nightmares and fear, to replace everything with the thought of him and only him. How he could lose himself in her, the scent of the heady, dark rose and currant soap that clung to her skin, to forget about his lacking when she mewled his name, rutting against his cock separated only by her small clothes, his teeth worrying at the bite he’d left on her shoulder back in the tent, refusing to let it fade. How easy it was to be there, with her, than some stinking brothel with bought comfort.

Aegon gasped for air as the red dribbled over his mouth and down his chin, staining his shirt. Without thinking, he’d taken several pulls from the bottle. It was perfectly dry as it snaked down his throat, a familiar feeling of relief, and the taste of plum and cherry far more enticing than the ciders he’d been restricted to. He watched from behind the silver hair that fell into his eyes as lightning illuminated King’s Landing before a crack of thunder boomed, loud enough to startle him even though he’d been prepared for it.

Dragging the back of his sleeve over his mouth, he leaned against the ledge and shut his eyes, letting the storm mist across his face - the wind blowing north and thus, his room had avoided getting soaked. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Theraxis' great, gray bulk come slinking out from behind the wardrobe, watching him with large yellow eyes as he promptly flopped over onto his side and turned, looking at him upside down.

“The lords tell me should I need anything, I have only to call upon them,” he told the cat, putting to voice what he’d held inside him these weeks. “So ready they are to give me my sister’s birthright, I do not even have to ask them for it.” He shook his head, another pull to ease the rumbling ache. “What kind of man do they take me for?” Theraxis had the courtesy to blink at him, pawing at the air and he snorted softly.

“They take you for potential.” Aegon startled at the unexpected voice. Theraxis let out a pleased meow and scampered up, prancing on deceptively light paws towards his mistress. She was lovely in the firelight, the glow of it catching along the edges of her hair, her long braid slung over one shoulder. Gone were the light silks and fluttering linen of the warm months. She was clad in a dressing gown of cream, embroidered with vines and flowers, the sleeves slashed from her elbows, the lavender lining reminding him of the flowers she had in her room the other day. “Oh, hello my darling,” she cooed, dropping to her knees to greet her cat - the animal the size of a hunting hound, seemingly larger as he tried to crawl into her lap while she laughed. The gown she wore was a deep v at her neck, and he could see the ties and lace of her nightdress beneath.

Her delicate fingers scratched around Theraxis’ ears as he pressed his cheek against hers and finally, her eyes met his. “We haven’t talked about it. Is that why you were so upset just now?”

Aegon took another pull from the bottle and went to the table to grab one of the goblets resting there. “Your brother has no more news,” he said, not hiding the truth from her, but guilt spurred him to take another drink. Abby’s lack of response indicated she had either already been told or was not surprised. Or a dozen other things involving how she didn’t indulge in her far more unpleasant emotions.

She pressed several kisses to the top of the cat’s head before he padded to the door and she followed to let him out, shutting and locking it behind her. He said nothing, giving her time as she rested her head against the wood to gather herself and splashed wine into a goblet like a good betrothed. It was easier to make sure he didn’t drink all of it without letting her share, and surely some wine would loosen her anxieties, if not her tongue.

There were times he wondered if she would ever trust him with all the things she left unsaid - if she would ever trust anyone with them.

Aegon approached, boots thumping softly on the rich rug. She turned at the sound of his approach, watching him as he took a sip from the goblet before holding it up to her lips for her to have a taste, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “He has no news. Cole and the whole fucking Kingsguard and the City Watch captain have found nothing.” Abby’s hand wrapped around the goblet to take another sip, and she looked so fragile, half in shadow with her back against the door, that he wanted to scream, to throw the bottle and demand the heads of the watch who were meant to be guarding the camp.

He took another swig from the bottle instead, drifting further into the room so she could not see his anger. Futile, he knew, but he’d not have her fear him, not when he was like this. Not when he feared himself.

“You wondered what kind of man the lords took you for,” she finally said and he knew a subject change when he heard it. Aegon scoffed and Abby tutted. “I said they see potential for someone to curry favor with. Your sister may be your father’s heir, Jeyne Arryn rules over the Eyrie, but your sister’s rule puts in doubt their own holdings. Should their sisters and their sister’s children then come before them, or the eldest daughter who married the heir to another keep? Not to mention a woman? Sitting the Iron Throne? Ruling over them when they would not even let their own wives do so?”

“It’s an ugly fucking chair,” Aegon complained.

“So you would not mind your wife ruling you?” was her teasing reply. Warmth spread through his belly - whether from Abby’s words of ruling him and the images that conjured to mind, or the reassurance she was not going to press him to ‘at least think about it’.

“I would not mind, for my wife is far cleverer than I.” The words were easy, calling her wife, that it nearly caught him off guard. Abby paused, teeth scraping over the pout of her lower lip, stained dark with the wine. He took the goblet from her to take another drink. “I do mind that they think me willing to steal my sister’s birthright - something made abundantly fucking clear that is not, and never will, be mine as long as our father lives. If her marrying Daemon did not cause it among-” He caught himself and shook his head. “Nothing will knock her from that pedestal. I mislike them thinking me such a monster.” It did not matter if he and Rhaenyra were close. They were far from it, and the war of jealousy, of anger and frustration towards her, did not mean he would take the throne from her in retribution, first born son or not.

Setting the bottle down on the low table before the fire, he lifted his arms, pushing up on his toes until his spine and shoulders popped deliciously. He groaned, tucking his hand beneath his shirt to scratch his belly and growled as he felt a cool hand join his, nails slightly sharper scratching against his skin and the fine hairs running along his skin, vanishing beneath his waistband.

“Decided to pet me instead?” he groaned happily, nuzzling his nose against the crown of her head and inhaling the bright scent of her hair. The distraction she provided was a good one and he let out a snort of laughter when she pushed him back onto the couch.

“You are most certainly not a monster, nor as awful as they try to paint you with such ambitions,” she said fiercely, immediately, and he held onto her defensive words and reassurance, let them be a balm to his wounded soul and the space where Sunfyre purred, content with the sweet and fierce words.

Aegon let his head fall back on the back of the couch and enjoyed the way she looked above him. Her face was slightly flushed from the wine, mouth stained red as a rosebud, small and plump and begging to be kissed. She was covered up in her dressing gown, no erotic enticement that he was used to seeing and yet she stirred his blood and his arousal all the same. ‘Lovely’, he thought, reaching a hand up to tug on the end of her copper braid, demanding her closer.

“I would devour you,” he murmured, licking his own wine stained lips. He’d tasted her off his fingers, but had yet to truly indulge the way he wanted. To escape into her was all he wanted, better than the wine that coursed through his veins. This was the vice he wished to indulge in, to lose himself in, and all the better with his Abrogail, his love.

Abby raised her eyebrows at him and pressed her hand to his knees to make room before lowering herself before him. His mouth immediately went dry, his lilac eyes widening as he took in her adorably focused look. First, she went for one boot, tossing it away, then the other followed and he settled in to be taken care of. Fingers, delicate with a needle, needy and demanding when in his hair, perfect when tangled with his own, began to work on the lacing of his trousers. His cock twitched, half hard already from her touch, and the groan Aegon made when she touched him had his toes curling against the rug.

Her giggle was sweet, as everything about her was. It was by no means the first time she’d taken his cock in hand, fingers struggling to wrap around his girth in a way that made him see stars, that begged to see her stretched around him, whimpering and whining to take him. This was no different. She drew him out, moisture already gathering around the head and her thumb immediately swiped to spread it around, a gentle squeeze following.

“Missed you,” he murmured, wrapping her braid around his hand once and tugged her closer. Abby’s pupils were blown wide and the flush of her cheeks was deeper, and he knew she liked the gentle pulling of her hair. Aegon had been delighted to discover how much she liked it when he handled her in such a way. “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Abby smiled, a shy look of a blushing maiden, before she leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip of him his mouth jealous with need of her. He jerked at her braid in surprise and she yelped, shock rather than pain and an apology fell from him. Her eyes narrowed at him, assessing.

“Did you like that?”

No longer soft. No longer guileless. No longer his little rabbit; this was his kēlītsos, the little lion batting about its prey. Her thumb was idly stroking the underside of his cock in the way that sent him to shivering, balls aching, and he nodded. He lifted his free hand to cradle the soft curve of her jaw, thumb pressing against her lower lip. His heart was thudding. He’d wanted this for so long, had dreamt of it, but hadn’t asked, unwilling when she was so new to all of this.

Her mouth opened more, and he looked at the sweet pink inside, and Aegon released a long, shuddering breath.

“Please,” he whispered.

Abby’s teeth nipped at his thumb and he let her go, shifting around to give her more room. His fingers danced over the little buttons holding her dressing gown closed, tugging idly at one. Aegon wanted to tug at her collar, take a peek at her breasts, but the angle denied what sight was his. Another snort of laughter escaped him when she reached up to his chest to push him back. He watched, enraptured, as she opened her mouth once more, resting the salty, warm tip of his cock on the pillow of her tongue and wrapped her pretty lips around him.

“Jaw soft,” he told her through his groan. “Do not force yourself to take more.” She wouldn’t be able to, and he did not want her to hurt herself or him. Just as her sweet words soothed his woes, her mouth soothed him as well.

Aegon let himself fall into the warm tingle of wine and arousal pumping through his veins, gaze heavy lidded as his Abrogail pleasured him. The vision she was to him had him aching and it took everything not to force himself further into her mouth the longer she continued, to use his grip on her braid to guide her down. He would be good for her. A good teacher. He felt her sigh and moan around him, and praise fell from his lips.

“That’s a good lass… you’re doing so well,” he reassured her, delight settling into the heated knot in his belly with each happy wiggle she made. Even as the pacing of her mouth left something to be desired, or the moment where he felt the tease of her teeth before she adjusted and left him wanting more of that sharpness that had his breath catching, he still could not imagine a more intense experience. What she lacked in experience and technique, she more than made up for in exuberance and the simple fact it was her on her knees for him. Cassandra Baratheon might have had a mouth that could take him down, but his precious girl wanted him.

He desired nothing more than to be truly wanted.

Her mouth popped off, strings of spittle clinging from his cock to her lips as she gasped for air, eyes wet with the tears that came from taking him, and he hushed her, reaching up to stroke her cheek and smiling as she nuzzled into his hand. His thumb stroked over her mouth, spreading spit and his own essence until her lips shone with it, glossy and inviting. “Easy now, you can use your hand for a bit.” She was good at that. Abby nodded, eager, and tugged at the waistband of his trousers.

“Up,” she ordered hoarsely, and he complied, helping her work them down and off so there was no barrier. Aegon reached behind his head to tug off his shirt and lifted a foot to rest on the table behind her, lazy and languid, balls tight and aching. A whine stuck in Abby’s throat, those depthless eyes looking up at him as she leaned down, tracing her tongue along his balls, her hand sliding down to cup them the way he’d taught her. Long licks, kisses, each different affection, had Aegon feeling as if he’d spill all over her and ruin her pretty gown. “You are being so good for me,” she told him when she lifted her head from him to smile up at him.

“I want to be good for you,” he swore with a frantic nod. “I will be, I promise. Please don’t stop.”

Abby had the gall to giggle at him. It was then that Aegon noticed that one of her hands disappeared and he realized that it had slid beneath the gap of her dressing down, her nightgown beneath bunched up. A fresh wave of heat washed through him at the idea of her own arousal so demanding from this that she needed to find relief.

Oh, his poor kēlītsos.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered, and he could hear the catch in her voice, just there when he knew her arousal was growing. Abby’s hand worked him, slick and perfect with that slight twist of her grip and he nodded.

“Please,” he begged again. “Clever girl, you’ve learned so fast, you can do it. I know you can.” He tugged on her braid again, hard enough for her to feel it, and it drew a moan from her, the arm that was tucked beneath her gown moving a little faster. “Open up, you’re almost there.” His words were catching with his anticipation as he fed her his cock once more and Abby took him with an eager whine that vibrated up from the base of his spine. His hips jerked towards her, unable to help himself, and she choked as more of himself forced inside but she didn’t stop, taking him with greedy, needy sounds. Then, her other hand joined and the sensation of her wet fingers stroking against his balls and the soft skin just behind had him seeing stars.

It was over nearly as soon as it had started and he was falling into his end like he was still a green boy, the pressure at the base of his spine imploding, pulling him farther and farther down until he was pushing her away, attempting and failing to warn her of what came next. Abby's eyes were wide, wet and blue and endless, as he came, her name choking off in an almost pathetic cry. She was not deterred, the first of his spend catching along her cheek before she was taking him in hand, continuing to stroke him as he caught along her chin and mouth, over her pretty dressing gown that he got to ruin after all.

Aegon did not care, his vision blurry, everything focused on the feel of her hand, the pleasure of his release, the way the milky white spend decorated her. There was a strange sense of waste in the back of his mind that he did not give more thought to but knew where it came from. That time would come soon enough.

He fell back against the couch, limbs soft and tingling, his own mouth wet, his skin heated in that satisfying, post-peak flush even more the better for it was Abby that brought it on, because she loved him. Gods, he loved her. He loved her so much he could not find all the words for it.

“I love you,” he panted, head lolling over to his shoulder as he gazed at her, fondness, affection, everything he could not put into words heavy in his tone.

“I love you too,” she returned, voice rough and weighted and just as sincere, meeting him in the place between them. Affection surged through him and Aegon tugged at her braid again before dropping it, hands reaching for her arms to draw her up his body, his eyes dark and heavy as her tongue swiped against the silkiness of him against her mouth. In a daze, he reached up to push more of it off her chin and into her mouth, and she noisily sucked the taste of him off his fingers.

Eager and adventurous, Abby was not some soft maiden, frightened of a romantic touch. Nay, Abby was an eager lover, excited to be with him, wanting to be with him. How many years had he spent chasing a peak that he could not name, throwing money at women, men sometimes, trying to find the piece that he craved. He was far more experienced than she would ever be, and how he desperately wanted to take her, to bury himself in the home of her body.

How easy it would be, and yet it was the knowledge that it was expected of him to 'ruin' her before their wedding that stopped him. To get her fat with his child, to take some kind of advantage of her, to only sate his own desire. The way the bitter bitch of a septa had grown horrified at their needy kisses in the gallery, to Aemond's angered remarks in the library, to Mother's hawk-sharp stare every time Aegon drew close, the reminders to Abby about 'virtue' in his mother's solar in the evenings. The idea that he was seen as some insatiable, lust filled creature who could not be trusted to control himself, raked hot against his insides. The way he was judged, and the way he knew she would be judged, left him feeling just as strange and raw as the assumptions that he coveted his sister's birthright.

To deny himself the full pleasures of his body allowed him to shake away his own past; to discover in the slow build up of all that brought her pleasure was a new experience and one that he would draw out - to deny himself the pleasure just as he denied her the full experience of him - to build up the anticipation was too enticing.

He kissed her then, the taste of wine, of her and him, making his belly burst into excited moths like the ones pinned to his sister’s collection boards. Abby was shivering and filled with tension as her own peak had not yet been realized, but she came into him eagerly, a needy thing in heat, and he would sate her as she had so kindly and sweetly done for him.

“You are a mess,” he chuckled, and Abby’s flushed skin burned deeper once more. He pondered for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and rising from the couch.

She squealed, a delighted sound, and clung to him as he took her to the bed and deposited her amidst the soft blankets. He braced his arms on either side of her, capturing her mouth for another kiss before he pulled away to get a clean cloth to wipe the rest of her face with. The water in the basin was cool, and he took his lady firmly by the chin to work on wiping her face. Even as Abby’s giggles filled the room, she remained pliant and well-behaved, teeth worrying on her lip as he cleaned her up.

“Ticklish, are we?” he teased her, fingers fiddling with the buttons on her dressing gown. There were only five of them. Five annoying little bastards kept him from her perfect breasts.

“How dare you tease me when I performed so well,” Abby replied with her nose tilted in the air haughtily, which bared her throat to him and the slick shine of spend clinging to her skin. He dove in, licking it up with the flat of his tongue, pushing her back onto the bed as he hovered over her, devouring her neck with exaggerated sounds as if he were Sunfyre feasting upon a carcass. She shrieked, giddy and squirming, his captured prey, and he growled and hummed against her throat and lost himself in the sound, in the scent of her. “Oh no! The dragon is going to eat me!” she cried, pushing at his shoulders as fiercely as she clung to him. He groaned, grinding his hips against her as he felt the bite of her nails in his skin, the edge of pain soothing amidst the pleasure.

The dragon was, indeed, about to feast.

He would be as good of a boy as she had called him and not tear the dressing gown. Aegon took his time to undo each of the fastenings, easing her out of the pretty fabric before tossing it blindly behind him.The nightgown beneath was simple - cream colored linen with pink ribbon laced through the neck, little ruffles along the ends of her sleeves. Nowhere near the near sheer gown he was used to seeing her in. There was something sweet in this, something that called to the dark thing in him that demanded he ruin, and he nuzzled between her breasts, tugging at the pink ribbon with his teeth to hear her laughter again. How much better to have wine in his blood and the sound of her in his ears to chase away all the dark thoughts that haunted the corners of his mind, chasing endlessly, predator to prey. Aegon’s teeth snatched at a nipple, peaked beneath the nightgown, the damp of his mouth soaking into the material.

Abby’s fingers dove into his hair, her other hand grasping desperately at his shoulder as she arched into him. There had been no sweeter experience than discovering all the ways she found pleasure, and Abby was deeply responsive. Not in the way the others had been - responding only to what he sought regardless of the pleasure, only for what he paid them for. Abby was a taut string, full of ticklish spots and places that made her whimper and writhe. Aegon wondered if he could make her peak from toying with her breasts alone - he’d heard for some that was possible, and he was curious if it would be the case for his love.

He kept her clothed, the need inside him thrashing against the restraint, wanting to devour her, to take her and make her his without question. Aegon’s mouth continued to focus on the ripe swell of her breasts while his hand reached down to tug her gown up over her thighs, reaching beneath the fabric to tug her smallclothes away, fingers working at the tie. She was a clever girl, reaching down and helping him remove them until he could touch her freely. Aegon sighed, long and low, vibrating at the feel of her silky and warm against his fingers. A final nip at her breast and he slid down the bed between her thighs. Aegon laughed as they spasmed, and Abby tried to close them around his head.

“Let me,” he coaxed her and she squealed, softly, wriggling against the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked, voice hushed, and he pressed her thighs apart, Abby letting them fall as he hooked a trembling thigh over his shoulder.

“Kissing you.” Aegon stroked her thigh soothingly and nipped along the soft skin of her thigh. She jerked beneath him with a needy whimper and her fingers found themselves in his hair once more. With a content sigh, Aegon leaned forward to stroke the flat of his tongue softly along the seam of her, the taste of salty and sweet bursting on his tongue. Abby gave a choked cry before it turned muffled and he lifted his head to see her shoving her nightgown over her mouth to muffle the sound. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the warmth of her, humming so she could feel it and how she squirmed and wriggled at the sensation. Aegon wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t muffle her sounds - he desperately wanted to hear her, every sound, every sigh, to hear his Abrogail whimper and beg for him.

Though he knew how loud Abby could be and the last thing he needed was his mother finding out about this.

Aegon kissed his way back down, avoiding the place where she ached the most and tending to the rest of her. Spreading her with his fingers that knew her so intimately, and allowing his tongue to do the work, kissing her here as well as he kissed her ripe mouth. Seven help him, all he wanted to do was feast upon her with abandon, to hold her down as he brought wave after wave of pleasure over her. Not now though, not yet when he’d never touched her like this, and there were so many new things to learn about her, and what brought her the pleasure she so deserved.

It was so simple to fall into it, the enjoyment in the tasting of her, his hands stroking along her thighs, along the tender flesh behind her knees, reaching up to stroke her belly and feel her desperate hand grab his, clinging to him as she rolled her hips into his touch with a growing insistence. When he wrapped his mouth around the tender bud, another sound ripped through her, back arching, sound muffled behind her attempts at quiet. Her fingers pulled in his hair and he felt it shoot straight through his cock, feeling the stirrings of his arousal come back. He growled softly, nipping along her thigh near the crease, the little mole there a hidden thing only for him. Teeth nipped harder, curiously, and Abby cried out again, fingers pulling at his hair and something dark and molten stirred in his chest. The need to bite her, to break her tender skin, leave a scar of his teeth there for him to admire, for her to touch when she needed him, coursed through him, the needy, feral thing inside of him demanding it. It could match the mark he’d been deepening along her shoulder, that filled him with a heated possessiveness every time he touched or saw the evidence of his claim.

Not yet. He couldn’t yet, not here, not now. But he could leave a bruise, mouth worrying at the soft skin of her left thigh as he left numerous marks along her collarbones, places she could hide and cover. When they were free at Harrenhal, he would not let her hide them. Let them see how much he loved her, how much he craved her.

How Abrogail belonged to him.

Aegon picked up his pace as her hips grew insistent, her fingers tugging harder on his hair, wordless mumbles and whimpers peppered with her gasping, “Please,” and “Aegon,” and even something whispered in her mother tongue, the words giving her a twist and lilt to her tone, “Mo realta geal.” It took only two swipes of his tongue over her clit to have her crying out, slick gathering along her folds, her body trembling at the newness of the sensations, and the familiarity of the peak he gave her. He moved back to press kisses along her thighs and up to press more of them along the clenching muscles of her belly.

“I’m not done yet,” he told her, watching in delight as she managed to prop herself onto her elbows, face flushed and her beautiful eyes heavy lidded. Before she could say anything, his tongue swiped at the fresh rush of arousal once more, insistent this time, the pressure increasing from his more exploratory efforts earlier.

He let the need take over, the touch of his teeth nipping at her skin, the way the tip of his tongue danced Valyrian letters over her to find which motions drew her desperate and frantic. After her second peak, Aegon pressed two fingers inside of her, giving her the sensation that he knew she instinctually craved by the way her moan was full of relief, and the shocked cry as he carefully pressed a third inside of her. His mouth and chin shone with the evidence of her, his other arm banding over her stomach to keep her frantic hips steady as he feasted on her, his thank you for her eager display at pleasuring him from earlier. After the third wave crested, Aegon withdrew to press his wet mouth against her belly, working his way up to settle further between her thighs, cock aching as his arousal returned. When he brushed against her, he whimpered, and beneath him, Abby’s hips rolled up trying to catch him. He knew that motion, the way she angled her hips, the way her eyes, blue and wet and blown black, gazed up at him.

“Aegon-”

He cradled her jaw with damp fingers, his eyes focused on hers, the little freckles sprinkled along her nose and cheeks. A harsh swallow, his throat bobbing, and he let her rock her hips up against his, feeling the slick warmth of her body against him, knowing that after her peaks, she’d be ready for him. It would take little to settle himself and bury his cock inside her sweet cunt.

Their breaths came out in tandem. Heavy gasping filled the air as he lowered his head to press his forehead to hers, noses touching, breathing in each other’s exhales. While he cradled her jaw, Abby reached down between them to wrap her fingers around him, guiding the tip of him along her folds.

“Careful,” he warned her, thumb pressing lightly against the pretty, fluttering pulse in her throat.

“I will,” Abby whispered, voice little and delicate, a mewl as her eyes fluttered, his cock rubbing along the seam of her, bumping along the apex of her. “I need you… I hate waiting…”

He kissed her softly, the arm he was propped up on shaking. “I know, hunītsos… soon. We won’t leave our bed for days, I swear,” Aegon promised her. “I’ll tie you to it, have my way with you. Hells, you can tie me down and have your way, darling.”

“And I’ll say thank you,” she gasped and he could feel the clenching over her body, the fluttering of her cunt against his cock as she peaked again, a little ripple compared to the waves from before but all the same. “As I thank everything I ride.”

It wasn’t more than a moment before he spilled over her for the second time, his spend dripping across her cunt and slipping across the back of her hand. Their moans were soft, muffled as she swiped her tongue in his mouth, and he gave himself over to her, settling into the softness of her body.

Soon.

Soon she would be his, forever.

The double doors to the king’s apartments had intimidated Aegon since he was a boy.

That was their purpose, after all - to be intimidating and guard the sanctum of the monarch. Aegon wondered if his namesake had wanted such doors, or if this was from the menace that Maegor had sought to employ. Were they modeled on the lord’s chambers on Dragonstone? He’d only been to the island a handful of times and had never made it towards those sacred apartments that his elder sister now kept. The ironwood imported from the North was dark and gleaming, the intricate carvings of snarling dragons flying through the knots and whorls of the deeply polished wood. The handles themselves were cast iron, the sinewy body reminding him of Sunfyre’s sleek frame, wings splayed out to press against the door.

Sers Lorent Marbrand and Steffon Darklyn flanked the entrance, the elder Ser Lorent looking at him with his hand raised to open the doors for him but had paused at whatever look was on Aegon’s face. The man was not much older than Ser Criston, his auburn hair gleaming a shade of molten gold in the shaft of afternoon light.

If his father was dead behind that door, would the men standing here bend the knee to him, swear fealty to the king’s first born son? Or would they flee to Dragonstone to throw themselves at Rhaenyra’s feet? Would the blood of he and his brothers still coat their blade?

‘You are the challenge, Aegon. Should Rhaenyra take the throne, your life may be forfeit.’

Would it really? If he didn’t matter to this man?

‘But you do matter,’ a little voice stroked at his thoughts. ‘Near a full moon’s turn, this castle was filled with the expectation that you would be named heir. Finally acknowledged. The rights as first born son finally, finally extended to you. Finally, Sire would have to acknowledge that he beget you, could no longer ignore and wish you were a dead child born to a dead woman.’

The people had cheered for him. They had called for him.

Would being king make that worth it?

Aegon tugged at his left cuff, tucking his fingers inside where the favor was wrapped comfortingly around his wrist over where she had scratched him all those weeks ago. Warmth flooded through his veins, and the knots in his chest eased, and the scent of her rose and currant perfume oil danced through his memory.

It didn’t matter. None of this mattered; the king did not matter, not anymore. For once, Aegon found himself relieved to greet the day, one step closer to escaping this city and leaving the machinations and the ghosts behind. The future was no longer a dim, necrotic thing, a looming noose waiting for him to climb the gallows. His mother and the Tower’s ambitions, once smothering and all consuming, now felt like something he could finally escape. He had dreamed for years of fleeing across the Narrow Sea to the pleasure houses of Lys, or the once secret city of Braavos, and to know that the Riverlands held such an escape for him, away from the legacy of his forebears and into the life of a country lord, allowed him to finally breathe.

Ser Lorent opened the door and announced his presence. “Prince Aegon, Your Grace.”

It took everything in him to not wrinkle his nose at the medicinal scent that clung to the cloying drifts of incense as he stepped into the room, the great door shutting behind him with enough of a thud that he fought not to flinch. It reverberated through his bones, and Aegon had the mad thought that it was the stone door of a tomb, trapping him inside with the shambling corpse of his sire.

Whatever new concoction Maester Orwyle had been giving him appeared to have staved off the rapid decline he’d been experiencing beneath Mellos’ care. The rot had eased somewhat, and the king’s mind was clearer. He sat beside his table, a great book before him making notes about a new expansion, no doubt. Aegon approached quietly as his father did not acknowledge him right away, and for the first time in some years, he took stock of the Freehold.

The scent of stone dust in the air struck another memory. This was one where he was smaller, mother preoccupied with Daeron’s first steps. He’d slipped in behind Lord Lyonel to lay on the cool stone beneath the table. His father had found him later, surprised, before Aegon had explained that he was too hot and the ailing king got down on the floor and lay beside him. He’d been so surprised that his sire had joined him that he froze, uncertain as to what to say. The king had filled the silence, speaking of how dragon’s blood runs hot in their veins through the bond they have with their mounts. He’d spoken of the theories of the magic that created the dragons, that made them, the Valyrians, different from mortal men so they might ride in the skies.

His breath caught in his throat as his sire patted his hand.

“You’re a good boy, Aegon.”

“Thank you, father.”

The Freehold had expanded further, nearly pressed up against the balcony doors if not for the slight gap behind it for one to get through to open the doors. His father’s quill scratched across the paper, fully occupied with whatever thought he was absorbed in. Aegon’s eyes rove over the buildings, and settled on the great dragon carving perched upon a platform on one of the buildings. The wings were broad things, beginning to spread open, its thick neck arched, its head a rough shape that reminded him of Vhagar. If only it were painted, decorated the way the frescos and murals of the Holdfast were.

Aemond would surely know more about what Aegon was looking at, what this district was meant to be, but Aegon knew that even his brother’s voracious appetite did not hold a candle to their father’s obsession. Aegon doubted even Gaemon and Daenys the Dreamer could recreate the Freehold in such detail. Had the warlord Aenar thought of teaching his grandchildren of Valyria? Or had the coming of the Doom and losing everything they’d ever known, the people and places that were once home, been too painful of a thing?

“I am not sure if that dragon will speak to you no matter how hard you look at it.”

The chuckle that followed was raspy and Aegon jerked as if caught doing something he shouldn’t, backing away from the table before he broke anything just by being too close. He looked up, his sire’s dark lilac eyes so like his own, cloudy with his illness that had prematurely aged him.

Aegon’s hands shifted, wiping his palms on his legs to keep from crossing his arms protectively over himself. He did not know how to speak to the man before him, and all thoughts and preparations he’d made that morning, going over what he’d say to him in his head had all vanished.

“Sunfyre is a good listener, but I don’t think dragons make the best conversationalists, stone or otherwise,” he said, his voice higher than he’d intended.

Another chuckle and a shake of his head. “No, they do lack that needed ability to carry on the other end of a conversation.” He hummed in the way that Aemond had. “The lords of the realm had nothing but good things to say of you, my boy. An impressive feat of might in the tourney. Lord Edmund came to beg for reparations for his injury. I told him he had fought well, but let us not mewl over being bested by someone better, hm?” A shake of his head and the king set his quill down, his full attention on Aegon in a way he had not experienced in some time.

A heated sensation coursed through Aegon and he couldn’t figure out where it had started. He felt it spread in his chest, along the back of his neck and into his cheeks, not quite embarrassment, not quite pride either, but something that felt in-between, as if being seen was both a good thing and an embarrassing thing.

“Everyone knows.”

“I imagine the man is sore knowing not only has he lost to me in front of the realm in combat, but the hand of my Lady as well,” Aegon said, fingers twitching along his wrist for the reassurance he needed once more. It was easier to speak of things not quite himself, than to figure out how to respond to his king’s approval. Even his grandfather had little complaint at how he conducted himself during the festivities. There’d even been approval as to the attacker in the camp as well.

Thinking about it still caused Aegon’s blood to boil, the ache in his hands to raise that bastard from the dead and tear him apart himself.

“You will do well, I think,” the king continued “in your own country house. I envy you the escape, in truth, and it will be good for you. Get out on your own.”

As if Aegon was being sent to a hunting lodge in a little village, and not the largest castle in the realm, beneath the eye of Lord Tully and half the banners displeased at Aegon’s presence, and the others who spent time vying for favor. Still, the king’s platitudes strangely bolstered Aegon and he straightened his shoulders, coming around the table slowly, lingering along the edges of what looked like a market.

“Thank you, father.” Aegon was pleased that his voice did not falter on the word. “I’m looking forward to it. Sunfyre will enjoy the freedom, and I know Abby is looking forward to creating a household.” Aegon was still trying to learn their names outside of the twins who had remained in King’s Landing with both Abby and Helaena, as well as the bubbling and babbling Ryger, who was helping Abby practice the River tongue, and in turn, she was practicing with him. Warmth spread through his chest and he finally met his father’s gaze. “I came to ask about the family jewels.”

“Oh?” The king settled in his chair, a curious tilt to his head as he waited for more.

Aegon swallowed. “Yes. Abrogail is to be my wife, a princess of House Targaryen. It is only fitting that she have her own pieces from the treasury, and I’d like to pick some for her.” He took a breath, forging on before he could lose his nerve. “I would also like to make some custom pieces, that would be hers to… heirlooms. I saw how pleased she was to receive some of her mother’s things. I’d like for her to have that for our own children.”

He imagined Abby’s belly, round with child, his child, their family. Abby, dripping in jewels that he’d chosen for her, that brought out the sparkle of her eyes, the red of her mouth, to glimmer around her throat and in her curls. Aegon’s fingers twitched beside him as if he could reach into his mind for her, to draw the vision in reality.

“Mmm…” That hum, again so like Aemond’s and yet so very not, broke through Aegon’s thoughts and he watched his sire nod, reaching for a piece of parchment. “True enough. Let it not be said that House Targaryen does not care for their own. Women do love jewels.” A dry chuckle. “You should be careful how frequently you give them to her. She’ll come to expect a piece for every minor inconvenience. What one must do to keep the peace.” There was a scratching across the parchment, a pause before it resumed. “One of the crowns, of course. And jewels for… two pieces. I think that is more than enough to supplement whatever House Strong holds in their own treasury.”

He held the parchment out and Aegon closed the distance, as close as he dared, to take it from him. “Take this to Lord Beesbury’s office. He holds the keys to the treasury.”

“They’re not held by your own office?” Aegon asked curiously, glancing down at the scratch of his sire’s hand. A tiara and jewels for two pieces. Aegon wanted to cry that it was not enough, that it would never be enough, but it was more than he had truly expected. To be given this so willingly had left him feeling lightheaded; he’d been prepared to defend his request and to not have to was a strange feeling.

It was not something he thought he should get used to.

“No, the treasury holds the taxes, which in turn goes back to the people. Wars, tourneys, the maintenance of the King’s Road. The servants here and at Dragonstone, the upkeep of the Red Keep. The allowance for you and your siblings to fund all that drinking and merrymaking that I know you like. Your mother’s ladies, the Kingsguard, the Dragonpit… Feeding dragons is not cheap.” The king laughed again and Aegon prickled at it, uncertain how to handle the man before him talking with him so normally, as if they were truly father and son. He ran his tongue over his teeth behind his lips as his sire settled back in his chair and the heavy, dusty book in front of him. “No need to pay double the guard to simply store our things somewhere else. Take that to Lord Beesbury, and do give him my regards, boy.”

Boy. At least it was better than Baelon.

Aegon looked at the paper in hand, permission so unexpectedly granted, before his feet moved and he knocked on the door for it to open. The heavy thing swung open, Ser Lorent giving Aegon a slight nod and…

“Ser Criston,” Aegon said, not quite hiding his surprise to see his mother’s man standing there. Lilac eyes searched the Dornishman’s face as Ser Lorent closed the king’s door behind them. If Aegon didn’t know any better, he’d think that before the man’s features smoothed out, he might have looked worried. Ser Criston? Worried? The thought didn’t seem to register with him. He’d seen Ser Criston look concerned when one of them took a particularly nasty blow in the training yard and blood was involved. He’d seen concern when Helaena was having one of her struggling moments where she needed to get away from everyone.

“Your Grace.” The knight’s voice was low as he fell in step beside Aegon, a half step behind as he did with his lady mother. Unlike the last time, all those weeks ago after the knight had tried to give him advice, there was no air of judgment radiating off the man. “Prince Daeron expressed his wishes for the pair of you to go flying.”

“Did he? Well, I’ll find him after this.” A smile stretched along Aegon’s face. Daeron had been incandescent with the prospect of going flying with his siblings now that Tessarion was big enough to take a rider, and Aegon knew Helaena had gone out with him already. Aegon tried not to feel guilty for it, since there would be plenty of time for the pair of them to ride together without Mother fretting all the while.

"Your Grace."

Aegon paused and turned to look at the knight, uncertainty raising the hairs on the back of his neck. 'This is it', he thought. This was when the lecture would start, when Ser Criston Cole, his mother's sworn shield and protector, the man who first taught him how to hold a sword, who had been there when he was frightened and afraid after Daeron's birth, when Mother was bedridden, when the maesters feared she would not make it, would take another piece from him, and Aegon wondered if it would be that one piece that would send him toppling into shambles.

Nothing he'd done would matter. Nothing would be good enough.

"I have not had the time to tell you how well you've done," came the words that Aegon struggled to register. "I must admit, I was uncertain how things would turn out given your long time away from training, but..." Cole shook his head, a smile crossing his handsome face. "That was an inspired fight, my prince. You took what I've taught you and what you've learned on your own and used it well."

A flush of heat rushed through Aegon, that sudden nervous flush that usually came from shame, but in this moment felt strangely optimistic. "Thank you, Ser Criston," he said, voice stilted, mouth dry.

"You've handled yourself admirably these past weeks, my prince," Cole continued. "I am proud of you, and the man you've shown yourself to be, and I have made that known to your mother." His dark eyes shifted away as his fingers drummed against the pommel of his sheathed sword. Praise was hard earned from Ser Criston, and something Aegon had thought he himself had long given up chasing, as Aemond received it so easily. "She worries for you, of course."

"Of course," Aegon said faintly, eyes burning and he cleared his throat. He was, much like in his sire's room, a boy once more, small in many different ways. The weight of expectation was looming and all he wanted to do was run from it, and how unforgiving the failure could be. Yet he yearned for it. "Thank you for your kind words, Ser Criston." Stilted. Unsure. Aegon felt foolish. He felt like something else was looming and it wasn't coming.

"Should you wish to continue training, I would be glad of it," the elder continued, peering back at him. "With your uncle, Ser Gwayne, coming with you to Harrenhal, you would also be in good hands."

"I will consider it, Ser Criston," Aegon said quickly, desperate to escape the strangeness of receiving praise. "Is this why you came looking for me?"

Cole was quiet, watching him for a moment before shaking his head. "I heard you had gone to see the king." There was more to the statement but Cole did not finish it, and Aegon was not certain how to take it. Had Cole been worried for him? "Your mother did express hope you would join her in the Sept after supper for evening prayers, but I did not think she would ask you outright. That task might be left to the Lady Abrogail.”

Aegon grimaced at the idea of it. He had accompanied his mother to her prayers over the years, had found his own sense of comfort not in the gods, but in the quiet time with her. The way Mother’s face would relax in the candle light, the whispered prayers, even stories of his grandmother who had died a handful of years before he’d been born. The moments were precious to him, were moments where the gulf between them did not feel more than a trickling creek, where Mother’s hand rested warmly between his shoulder blades or stroked her fingers along the nape of his neck as she did when he was small.

“I’ll attend with her tonight,” he said softly. “Thank you, Ser Criston. Please send my mother my wishes.”

“A round!” Aegon declared, hopping up onto the bench, his hand gripping Alyn’s shoulder. “For Alyn Hull! The best fucking man I know!” He giggled, pleased with himself even as Alyn smacked him in embarrassment, ignoring his protestations and dropping back down in his seat.

The Shallows was a tavern they had only recently become more acquainted with as Aegon drew further from the Street of Silk, and Alyn’s aunt and uncle ran the place at the top of the street from the main docks. It had become a comfortable place, all considered, and Aegon had found excitement in the stream of sailors and bards that frequented the place, often only in the city for a night or two, with tales from the Stepstones and the fighting, of far off Myr with their new inventions, Braavos and their clever fighting men.

“You’re ridiculous,” Alyn shook his head, shoving at his shoulder once more as stabbed a hunk of meat out of the stew.

“He’s not,” came the clipped tone, a northern burr tempered by the southern accent. Fresh tankards of the house ale were set on the table as Bri shook her head. The deep green of her kirtle looked nearly black in the low light of the tavern, her skirt tucked up in her wide black belt. “It’s what you deserve.” It was Alyn’s turn to receive a hit as she shoved at his shoulder, before Alyn grabbed her hand and pulled her into him to kiss her cheek.

“You just can’t wait to get rid of me,” he complained. “You’re so happy the prince is dragging me all the way to Harrenhal so you can finally run away with Beric Storm.”

Aegon reached for his tankard and quickly occupied himself while the pair fell into their bickering, and he was quite certain Alyn’s hand had made it to the wench’s backside. He rolled his eyes and turned to look out at the rest of the room from their vantage point at the back of the tavern. Below, the crush of small folk were cheering as the drinks were dispersed, shouts of ‘Hail Prince Aegon!’ in thanks and calls and well wishes for Alyn.

“I’d have no one else by my side, Hull,” Aegon said after Bri returned to her duties, grasping his friend by the shoulder.

“Who else would keep you alive?” countered Alyn with a snort. “I consider it a fine payment for my bodyguard services to you over the years.” Aegon prickled at how transactional Alyn made it sound, a frown crossing his face before Alyn’s hand gripped his shoulder in return, drawing his attention back to him. “We have had fun here, in the city, have we not?” he asked, a smile instead of his usual playful smirk crossing his face. “TIme for us to have a new adventure. How robust do you think the city life of Harren Town actually is?”

“Fuck if I know,” Aegon said shortly, still prickling but trying to shake it away. “You can bring your girl with you.”

“Nay,” Alyn murmured, taking a swallow from the fresh tankard. “Bri promised to stay with my mother until Addam’s back from the Stepstones.” Alyn’s elder brother was serving in the Velaryon fleet, fighting down south in Lord Colrys’ war. “She won’t leave until he’s safe and returned to us.” Aegon nodded, understanding. The Hulls were a close family, Alyn’s aunt and uncle having opened the tavern when Alyn was a babe, not long before Aegon himself had been born. His mother was one of many who wove fishing nets - a trade that could be easily found north in Harrenhal. However, Aegon had offered to put his mother up as well, set up and comfortable how he knew Alyn hoped for her.

“Word from your brother?”

A shrug. “Lord Velaryon won another battle - according to those merchants from Qohor that came in this week. Rumor is the Triarchy might be enlisting the Bright Banners.”

Aegon drummed his fingers against the tankard. “He’ll be fine. And when he comes back, we’ll make sure he’s taken care of.” Another drink to cloak it in the casualness rather than the seriousness of his words, uncertain how Alyn would take it.

“First you make me your steward, now you offer to make my brother another part of your new house?” There was a teasing quality in Alyn’s voice, but Aegon knew better, just as his friend knew his own tones masked his own truth. They had been through much together, things that neither of them would ever speak of, but knotted them together like the nets Marilda Hull wove with such care.

He snorted and shook his head, tearing off a hunk of the fresh bread Bri had brought, soaking it in his own stew. “Addam can do what he likes, and whatever I can make happen, I will. It’s not charity,” Aegon quickly added, because Alyn would rankle at times about charity until he learned not to complain about it. “He served the realm. Should he want to be a Gold Cloak, should he want to set up a tavern in Harren Town, hells, send him to Oldtown and become a Maester-”

“Aeg,” Alyn cut in, fingers gripping his shoulder and Aegon fell silent, eyes focused on the food before him. “I want to come with you to Harrenhal. I want to make a better life, I don’t want to raise my children in this stinking cesspool of a city, I want my mother to have the garden she’s always dreamed of.”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Aegon said, voice low, the frown pulling at his mouth once more. “I’d still let you have it for-”

“Aegon,” Alyn said. “As your steward, all I ask is for your respect.”

“And as your liege, all I ask is you tell me when I go wrong,” Aegon replied, finally meeting his friend’s eyes. They were bright green, like his aunt’s, and his mother’s. The silver hair was the only thing that hinted at his origins. His true origins. ‘As your-’ Aegon could not finish the thought and instead he hooked an arm around Alyn’s shoulder, pulling him in to smack a kiss to his silver head. “Here, steward. Give that bard a dragon and let’s get something good playing.”

Thank you for being here! I hope you've been enjoying yourself! It's been a hot minute since we had a chonky Aegon POV chapter and with everything having gone on, I thought it was a great time to revisit. Not to mention, I've been sitting on this Viserys interaction since Chapter 9. I've really wanted to dive into certain personality traits of his that often get understandably overshadowed by less than stellar qualities since he's on a different trajectory here. I understand that maybe that's not what some of you are expecting, and that's okay! But I really do love diving into his head and unwrapping him and shaking him in my snow globe, so those of you that enjoy that, again, many thanks for being here. Also I'm so glad to bring Alyn back! We touch a little on that parentage mystery as well <3 I'd love to hear your thoughts and theories! Let me know what you loved about the chapter! What are you looking forward to? Next chapter we have Alicent and Jace and then OFF TO HARRENHAL! OMG are you so excited? I'm so excited! Also omg who was behind the attack?? I hope justice is served one day :prayeremoji: Hope everyone is having a great weekend!!

#hotd fic #hotd oc #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen fic #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #house targaryen fanfic #my fics #oc: abrogail strong #otp: do not go far from me #aegon x abby #abrogon #fic: the maiden and the drowning boy

20 notes · View notes