#braided fates au

[shadow-pixelle]

Here's a random DCxDP snippet!

Wrote this on Monday. Was gonna post it yesterday and then kinda... forgot. It's a completely disconnected snippet- that is, I have no context for what's going on here, what kind of AU it is, or much of anything else at all. Also currently have no plans to try and expand it, though I might mess with it in the future when I have time? We'll see.

Honestly 80% of the reason I'm posting this is because I sent it to Kali and absolutely devastated her with the worldbuilding, so shrug.

--

“I need you to understand,” Danny said, gripping the side of the table. Tucker put a hand on his shoulder for support, and he leaned into it slightly, being very careful to keep his focus on any Bat other than Hood. “And I mean really understand, that this isn’t just- a crime. It’s not that simple.”

“Phantom…?” Red Robin sounded confused, and slightly wary.

Danny couldn’t blame him, given the situation. Ancients, Danny had just had to give up his secret identity just to make sure he didn’t try and kidnap a Bat. Nothing about this situation was normal or reasonable.

“The Infinite Realms has a lot of beings in it.” Tucker said carefully, and Danny could kiss him for being willing to lead the conversation. “Like, a lot. And they’re all ghosts in some form. But the thing about ghosts is that they can’t be killed. They’re already dead, or- like, similar to dead? The only thing you can do to stop them is imprison them or End them.”

“And Ending someone is serious.” Sam took over, stepping forward to lean into Danny’s side. “Ending someone… nothing comes back for that. When we say Ended, we mean it. There is nothing left.”

“The previous Ghost King was a being called Pariah Dark.” Danny began, fixing his eyes on Batman for someone to focus on. “He was insane, a tyrant and a conqueror. Violent. Unwilling to compromise. Anyone who stood in his way was dealt with, one way or another. He wanted to claim everything.”

“No-one tried to stop him?”

Danny’s eyes flicked to Nightwing as Tucker laughed, raw and exhausted. “He was the Ghost King. He ruled the entire Infinite Realms. He carried the sort of power that gods dream of.”

“The Ghost King can force his word, his Rule, on pretty much every being in the Realms. As close to absolute power as you can get, in the end. Everything in the Realms is made from ectoplasm, and the Ghost King can manipulate that at levels most people can’t even start to believe. There’s only two types of beings that can even try to resist that.”

“One’s the Ancients. They’re old ghosts, the oldest you can get. Incarnations of gods, concepts, things like that. But the problem with that is that they’re also limited, kinda. They can disobey the Crown, no matter what sort of Rules it puts out, but fighting back? They can stop him, sure, that’s how Pariah Dark got sealed away the first time, but they can’t stop him being King. They can’t take the Crown, even if they win. They’re bound too much to the things they incarnate, the gods they were and are. They can’t be the Ghost King. Those ties stop them being as firmly Ruled over, but it means they can’t take the Crown away. All they can do is delay it.”

“The second,” Danny took over again from his friends, grateful for their support, as the various Bats around the room looked horrified. Afraid. And for good reason, really.

It was only going to get worse.

“The second were beings called Halfas.”

A breath.

“Halfas are the only beings in the entire Infinite Realms that aren’t entirely ecto. Not alone. They’re… well. Half.”

“Half beings.”

“Half living, half dead.”

“And because of that, they’re the Balance.” Danny leaned into Sam, letting Tucker step closer again. “Equally alive and dead. Equally bound to their ecto and not. Halfas were the Balance because they cannot be Ruled.”

“From what we understand, Halfas were created by the Realms itself.” Sam said quietly. “They existed to be the Balance. Slipping from living to dead to living whenever they wanted, all the powers of a ghost and all the benefits of a living being mixed into one.”

“They were rare, because they couldn’t be killed. Kill the human side, and the ghost half keeps them alive until they recover. You can’t kill a ghost, and anything that could contain a ghost, the human side walks right out of. They were there as Balance, between the living and the dead. Advisors to the Ghost King, helping to keep things smooth between the living and the dead whenever they had to interact. Balance. Beings that couldn’t be Ruled by the Ghost King because they were as much alive as ecto.”

“They were there to stop tyrants.”

Tucker nodded at Robin’s quiet voice, and paused. It was an offer to Danny, he knew, to take this part as well. He and Sam knew everything about this. Danny didn’t need to be the one to explain.

He spoke up. “From what records say, there were around six thousand Halfas at the start of Pariah Dark’s reign.” He told them. “They were the Balance. They saw what Pariah Dark was doing and had a duty to stop it. Up until ten years ago, there were no Halfas in existence.”

The group seemed to pale.

“Halfas can’t be killed, but anything can be Ended.” He said quietly. “Pariah Dark went around every single Halfa that came to stop him, and he destroyed them so utterly that they cannot exist any more. Not as ambient ectoplasm in the Realms, not as shades or smaller spirits, not as a being in the reincarnation cycle waiting to live and die. Every single one of those Halfas no longer exists, because he destroyed everything that made them them and then destroyed all the remaining pieces as well.

“Dark Pariah was a tyrant. And he was the reason that I learned everything about my entire species from second or third hand knowledge. Everything that I know about myself? I either figured it out myself, found it in some of the few books that still exist about Halfas, or heard it from the Ancients. And those last two didn’t know much at all, in the end. Halfas were so rare that the only thing most beings got were rumours, and the Ancients weren’t an exception to that, and not many Halfas ever bothered to write things down about themselves and their powers. They couldn’t die, after all.”

Danny shivered, a little. Sam and Tucker leaned in more on either side, keeping him upright as much as the table was. None of the Bats were moving.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he said again. “Pariah Dark was a tyrant. A nightmare. The worst thing to happen to the Realms ever. He committed so many genocides that there aren’t records of it any more, and the only silver lining,” he spat the words, mocking, because there is no silver lining in senseless slaughter, “Is that all but one of these were against the living. They were allowed to exist as ghosts. Pariah Dark was a monster.”

Danny wrenched his eyes away from Batman and looked directly at Red Hood. He pushed down the impulse to take him away, to hide him, to get him to Frostbite for help and maul and destroy anyone who got in his way, who tried to threaten him-

He pushed down his shudder, and looked Red Hood directly in the eyes.

“Pariah Dark was a monster, and even he would consider what was done to you unforgivable.”

Hood jolted. So did the rest of the Bats, looking for all the world like they’d just restarted breathing again, no longer frozen in time.

“We can’t explain to you what we’re seeing.” Sam said from his side, and she sounded almost apologetic. “It’s- literally, there are no words in any living language to explain what it looks like. And we’re only Liminal, a little bit dead. We don’t see as clearly as beings like Phantom do. But it’s-”

Words seemed to fail her, and Tucker reached around Danny’s back to squeeze her shoulder in comfort.

Danny tried, pulling his eyes away from Hood again so he could think past the urge to steal him away and hide him somewhere safe. “It’s like I’m looking at a baby.” He tried to explain. “Or- I don’t know. A puppy? Whatever cute little thing you want to go with. Something small and delicate and needing to be looked after. Something that shouldn’t be on it’s own, because it’s too young to survive. Like someone took a premature puppy, and then just.” He paused. Gestured. “Just mutilated it. Whatever horrible things you can think of, the most evil things you can imagine at all, just. All of that. And then left it crying in the trash to rot and die, except it can’t die.”

None of the Bats that he could see out of the corner of his eye look well. Hood was-

His core, the half-mangled thing that was barely there, barely able to exist and yet still trying desperately to survive, was shrieking in horror.

“Phantom’s a Protection spirit.” Sam murmured, into the silence of that. “He’s a guardian, every instinct he has is aimed at keeping people safe.”

“I can’t look at you right now.” Danny confessed to that tiny lost child. “If I look at you too long, I just- Every instinct I have is telling me to get you away, to take you back to the Realms and hide you somewhere safe while I get a doctor or twelve, and that if anyone else gets even close to you they need to be mauled. I transformed because those instincts were even worse in ghost form, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone who wasn’t responsible for this.”

“I want to wrap them up in vines and strangle them.”

“I’d kinda like to suffocate all of them in sand and then mount them on a wall or something.”

“And they’re Liminal.” Danny added. “They’re not even fully dead, barely even dead at all. Any being of the Realms that sees you is going to want to help, or at least get vengeance, because it’s-

“It’s not even something Pariah Dark would do, and he committed a genocide of an entire people just because he didn’t want to be held accountable and couldn’t stand having people he couldn’t control in the Realms.”

For a long, long moment, no-one spoke. None of them even seemed to be breathing.

Danny flickered his eyes across Hood one more time, then focused on Batman again.

“So,” he said, as firmly as he could. “I’d quite like to know who did that to him. Because my next step is going to be to call the Council, get war declared on them, and then erase them.”

#dcxdp #fic writing #my writing #random scenes from the abyss #danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #bruce wayne #jason todd #like i said might poke this some more #cause i really *do* kinda like the worldbuilding going on here #it's pretty neat and i could do some interesting things with it i think #but that means i need some free time lol #so for now enjoy this #braided fates au

[demonslayedher]

It's the heroic return of Mui-kun in a ponytail! But while I was drawing that, I was reminded of how much I liked having Shinobu wear Tamayo's hairpin in this AU. In either AU I have enjoyed cropped-hair!Mitsuri and wanted to see how she might do braids with her new style.

#I was starting to feel ill from a week or so of not drawing #I am healed now #Mui-kun was the one with braids and flowers in his hair in that fate-swap AU #but I rather like this simple ponytail look for him #he's and genius and can figure out how to do it one-handed #he can prove he's more talented than Giyuu #and not a copy-cat #even if Tengen was the trendsetter for a cut of a different kind #anyway #my nice art #tokito muichiro #tokitou muichirou #kanroji mitsuri #kocho shinobu #kochou shinobu

[notllorstel]

How long/when/how does cannon Layton find out about the stuff that's going on? Imagining him just finger pointing at AU Luke and yeah.

still deciding on the timeframe but something like over a few days and a road trip.

he points a finger both at Desmond and canon Luke to fess up

YEAH TRY EXPLAINING THIS LAYTON *foghorn sfx*

Bonus

#professor Layton #pl twisted fates au #asks #tf au qna #llorswip #Desmond: actually one would say I WAS KIDNAPPED #also deciding on if des should have the classic buns or braid in au #tf au art

[the-rambling-fatebender]

#turned out i just turned 34 wtf #had no plan and was raining all day so why not cosplay Azuriel #red madness AU #that's why the red eyes are in #i like to picture her hair very straight just in the game this wig is a lil bit animey-waifu-ish #vynblr #nehrim #nehrim: at fate's edge #azuriel #shadowgod #tel'imaltath #oc #shadowborn #aeterna #rogue #yes im old and cant do anything about it #also i cant do the braided hairstyle with this wig

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You

Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!

Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.

It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.

That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.

“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.

“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.

After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.

You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.

You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.

“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.

The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.

You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.

Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.

You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 

#poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #scream au #poly!ghostface x female reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream x reader #scream

[randomdragonfires]

Pieces of a Woman | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Even when his life takes a turn for the worse, Aemond Targaryen endures.

WARNINGS | 18+; Canon Divergence AU; Smut; Insanity; B&C; Gore; Delusions; Miscarriage; Yearning; ANGST

WORD COUNT | 7.2k

A/N | This is my personal favourite out of all the stories I've ever written, reposted with a new header and all that fun stuff! Beta read by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs ❤️

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins. 

They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment the madness had sunk its claws into his wife. He had watched as her once bright and hopeful eyes became empty and devoid of emotion. He had watched as she was pulled into the darkness completely, becoming a shell of the woman she once was.

As much as he wished he could turn back time, he had accepted his fate. He accepted that he would never have his wife back. He would never hold her in his arms again and never get to lay his head on her lap as she embroidered. She would never read to him in her mellifluous voice ever again, despite the fact that he would give everything he had to have her with him once more. 

What good was all this power and wealth, if he could not protect his own family? What good was his title as Prince Regent, if he did not have her to stand by his side? If he could not protect his little boy?

His hair, once braided to the side by her deft and nimble fingers with love, remained uncared for, left loose in all its glory. Training his one dark-rimmed, tired eye at the crypt that held the ashes of his heir, Aemond Targaryen let the sadness take him - for when his son’s life was brutally snuffed out, his wife’s very soul had been too.

There was nobody to blame for it all apart from himself.

Ever since their wedding, she had been a steady and calm presence in his life. She was the quiet to his rage, the water to his fire. He had always been a sullen and lonely child that harbored resentment for those who had wronged him, but he felt his heart steadily calm down with every moment he spent in her presence.

It wasn't until he met her that he realized he was lacking love and consideration, both of which he believed had never received before - not like this. She gave him an opportunity to be a better man; one that he took eagerly with both arms. 

In return, he was a respectful husband who did his very best. He wasn’t adept at great gestures of love, but he always made sure that his wife woke with a kiss to her hair and his arms enveloping her body. He wanted her to never know loneliness for as long as he lived, he would make sure of it. 

For all his reading and knowledge, Aemond was not good at making his appreciation known verbally. Instead, he would bring her huge tomes from the library so he could read to her. These books covered topics that he was passionate about, so everytime he brought one, he was offering up a part of his soul. Who better to give it to than the woman he has sworn his heart, soul and loyalty to? 

He needed her. He needed her from deep in his soul, and he needed her carnally, always. She was all that was missing in his life, and now that he had her, he would always need her. 

But right now, as her screams erupted through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, Aemond’s heart lurched in his chest, becoming heavier with each passing moment. The babe was arriving, and it would seem that the child was taking her for all that she was. Everytime she groaned in pain, he held onto the railing tighter than ever, as though it would make her pain go away.  

They would not let him in, no. Childbirth was a woman’s fight, and the men would have to wait outside - much like the women did when the men went to battle. There was nothing he would not give to hold her hand right now; to tell her that she would be an absolutely beautiful mother, and that all she had to do was summon all her strength and emerge victorious. 

As though she had heard his thoughts, her pained wails slowly died down, replaced by the first cries of a newborn. Boy or girl, the babe had an incredibly strong pair of lungs on them, their mighty cries could overshadow even the loudest of thunderstorms. The cries echoed through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, and the servants outside immediately jumped to work. A new royal babe had been born after all - there was work to be done, celebratory feasts to be organized, chambers to be prepared, nothing but the best for a Targaryen.

His mother stepped out of the chambers and laid a hand on his back in comfort. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled in congratulations. “Mother and babe are well, my son. She has made me so proud. The little one is beautiful, he would go on to achieve many great things. Just like you.”

A son. She had given him an heir to carry his bloodline. How would he ever repay her? 

He walked into the chambers with speed that he did not know he possessed, his purpose made clear with each stride. The midwives and maids moved to make way for the One-Eyed Prince, and in he went. 

She laid in the middle of the chambers, looking like she had braved the worst experience of her life. Her hair was askew, with sweat coating her entire body, her fatigue was palpable. Blood and waters coated the floor, and the chambers smelled like death. The bloody spots on her shift alarmed him, and it concerned him to see his usually happy and energetic wife look so thoroughly worn out. But then she smiled. 

Through all her weariness from the challenges of the birthing bed, she had meekly smiled at him - and all was alright in his world again. He held her cheek in his palm and kissed her forehead, heart full from knowing that she was alright. She reached for his other hand, holding onto it like it was the last thing that kept her tethered to reality.

“Are you well, wife?” 

The seemingly simple question certainly did not project the waves of concern that had plagued him outside while he waited with bated breath, but she knew. She saw it in the crinkles on his forehead and the widening of his good eye.

“I am now.”  

She had braved battle, and had never looked more beautiful to him than she did now. Her voice was hoarse from all the pained screaming, and she certainly had no business being awake right now - but by the Gods, he was the happiest man in the realm. 

The maids were done with wiping the blood off of the babe and had handed the boy to her. Aemond knew right then that he would have to compete for his wife’s attention from then on, for his little son had clearly stolen her heart, and his, within moments of his birth. 

Her weak voice called out to him once more. “Aemond, husband… look what we made.” 

He was exquisite. Aemond reached out to the babe, his son, and his son's pudgy rose finger latched onto his long, sturdy one as he continued to cry. “He has a strong grip. He shall be a storied warrior." She smiles at the possibility, and he cannot help but kiss her hand once more.

"You’ve given birth to a boy as strong as you are, wife.” He watched as she nudged her nose to the babe’s and smiled, her face glistening from sweat and tears. His newborn son’s cries got louder with each passing moment, but despite being a man of silence and solitude, Aemond had never felt more at peace.

“Thank you.”

Aemond would be the first to deny that he was a doting paragon of a husband that the bards would sing about, but he certainly was a good man who loved and respected his wife. 

In the days that followed the birth of his child, he had spent every waking moment that he could spare with the pair of them. Both mother and son had the fierce One-Eyed Prince wrapped around their fingers. Between sparring sessions and battling his family’s idiosyncrasies on the daily, his little family had given him quite the reprieve, one that he was infinitely thankful for. 

But now, his son is gone, and his wife is too.

“The heirs need to be kept safe. The twins, little Maelor, all three of them,” his mother said.

He may be in the middle of a war, but it was moments like these that seemed hardest to him. Aemond sat quietly by the hearth, in the very same chair where he always rested. His wife used to sit by him or at his feet as she embroidered. Now, her absence was a gaping hole each time he sat.

“Aemond…”

He turned to the sound of his grandfather calling out his name, looking cold and calculated.  It did not escape Aemond that he was discussing the safety of his brother's children while he had lost his own child. The irony of it all was stark and jarring.

“Yes,” he curtly responded.

“It is in our best interests that you…” His grandfather paused midway through his words, and Aemond knew well that the man did that only when unsettling news was to follow. “...that you take a new wife. We’re in need of an alliance, and she can be sent to the motherhouse at Oldtown. She will be cared for, she will be fed-”

He saw red. “My son is dead!” The words tumbled out of Aemond’s mouth like shards of glass before he could even comprehend the gravity of his grandfather’s heavy, cutting words. 

"My son’s death is on my conscience, his blood is on my hands. I did not do the deed myself, but it certainly feels like I was the one who wielded the knife that killed him.” The people had taken to calling him a kinslayer, and Aemond felt it in his bones everyday - not because of Lucerys Velaryon, but because of how his rash actions had resulted in the death of his little boy.

“My son is dead, and my wife has not been the same ever since. How do you think I can start a new family, with a new woman, when I know very well that I have caused all the grief that has driven my wife to madness? When I caused the death of my own child?” 

Aemond Targaryen always made for a menacing sight, but his grandfather was not prepared for the kind of anger that his grandson had kept stored in him - for himself, his wife, and his son. They were not here, and he was angry enough for all three of them.

The Dowager Queen watched the entire conversation unfold, and she held her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat become frantic with each moment that she saw her son in distress. She knew how content he was in his wife's presence, and how much he loved her. To watch a child grow and fester in his own resentment - no mother should have to witness it. And yet, the Gods saw fit to give Alicent Hightower the closest view to her son's heartbreak.

“Get out,” he seethed. Otto Hightower took Aemond’s raw and angry words in stride before walking away, his head still held high. 

His mother stood in front of him, held his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, my boy. I’m so sorry…”  

She wept until she could not, and it took everything Aemond had in him to not do the same.

When he tossed and turned in his bed in the middle of the night, he would always reach out for her. 

She would always welcome his touch and curl into him, her forehead resting on the smooth planes of his chest and her warm breath making goosebumps rise on his skin. He would hold her tight until neither could ascertain where one ended and the other began, and sleep that normally eluded him would come to him faster than anything else.

Tonight, her spot on the bed is empty.

When he woke in a hurry, he noticed the crumpled sheets and the pillows left askew, the only evidence of her having retired to bed alongside him. He quickly rose from the bed and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, wondering as to where she could have gone at this ungodly hour. 

Gods, was she hurt?

He did not have to wait for the divine deities to answer, for his answer came in the form of the sweet humming sounds that he had grown to love. He followed her voice as he walked through their apartments, and it led him to the chamber where his son’s crib was kept. She was sitting next to it in her white shift, her head peeping in as she let her hands rest on the crib. She hummed softly and happily, marveling at how beautiful her little boy looked as he slept - looking much like the man she shared her bed with.

Aemond wanted to ask her to come back to bed immediately. The maesters had advised lots of rest for his wife, given the stress of the labors and the damage her body had taken. But as he watched her and his boy, he knew he couldn’t. He needed a moment to drink in the sight of his wife and son - his entire world, all in one chamber.

He held so much love in his heart for them both despite seeing them only with one eye. Perhaps he’d be able to love them more if he could see them with two.

“He’s going to be there when we wake, wife. Come back to bed.”

She turned to him and smiled, a warm smile that he wished he could brand into his mind for all eternity. “Did I wake you?”

“You did not. Your absence from our bed did.” 

She chuckled softly, and he walked over to her. He positioned himself behind her chair and kissed her temple, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. “I don’t think I shall ever tire of looking at him,” She said.

“Hm.” His gaze rested on the sleeping babe, tired from all his crying throughout the day.

“My son, a dragon prince,” She mused. “He’ll be charming, strong and intelligent, just like his father.”

At that, he chuckled darkly and she rose, turning around to face him. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into her touch, leaving a light kiss on her wrist as he held her hand in place. “What’s so amusing, husband?”

“Charming is not the first word anyone would use to describe me, wife.”

“Well, you are. To me.” Her whispering siren-like voice was like music to his ears. 

She reached up on her toes and left a light kiss on his brow, and Aemond was quick to hold her to him by the waist, wanting to have this - this quiet solace - all to himself for a time.

Who was he to argue with the woman around whom his entire world revolved? The very one that held his heart in her hands?

He stands in the middle of what used to be their shared chambers and sighs. 

The entire room is covered in pieces of her - fragments of her that he desperately clings to for dear life. Robes and dresses that she had not worn in a long time, but still manage to somehow retain her scent. Quills and ink that she used to write her correspondence with, now left to gather dust. Ten Thousand Ships, her favorite book, one that he had given to her as a name day present, laid abandoned on the bedside table. 

This was the very same chamber where he had claimed her. This was where he had first admitted to loving her. This was where she had told him that she was with child. This was where they had spent countless nights talking well into the night, their bodies entwined and voices coming out in hushed whispers and low giggles. This was where they had discovered and learned of the passions of the marital bed, together. This was where their marriage had grown and bloomed.

If he walks a little further, his feet will take him to the adjoined room where his son used to sleep - but try as he might, he does not have the strength for that. Not yet.

He sits by the edge of their bed, the sunlight passing through the windows in streaks of yellow gold. He closes his good eye, hoping for a little time to adjust to the light. Perhaps if he closes it hard enough, he will be able to picture her sitting by the window with her focused eyes trained on her embroidery or one of his books, waiting for him to come back to her after his daily duties. 

His nose flares at the unearthly reminder that his wife is no longer his by side. She had been full of happiness and life, and she had brought light into his life. He welcomed it for as long as she was around, but now that she was gone, he closes his eye and avoids it like the plague, much like he does with the sunlight that now warms his skin.

Her world has become dark because of him. How can he sit in the light in good conscience, when he knows he has lost all right to it?

The waves crashed by the shores of Blackwater Bay and she sat on the sands, watching them. She had a book in her hands, and a basket of food that she had the maids prepare for them to take.

Her eyes closely followed her husband as he held their baby son’s hands upright, his little pudgy feet resting over his huge boot-clad ones as he led them forward. The little boy’s gurgling and laughing echoed through the wind, and she took a bite of a juicy apple while holding a book in her other hand. 

They were the picture of a happy family, the stories of whom may be immortalized in songs for years to come.

He had not yet begun to walk, and his words were all a blubbering mess - but Aemond Targaryen was not known for being patient. He insisted on guiding his son to his feet so his first steps would come to him quicker, and spoke to him in High Valyrian in hopes that his first words would be in his native tongue.

Her boys had walked all the way toward her with her baby’s toes pressing onto Aemond’s feet harshly. He picked him up and held him then, and his son’s hands landed on his eyepatch. It had become his favorite little plaything these days - the boy took to wrangling it off his father’s head and swinging it with his two fat fingers until he grew tired - that was if he did not notice the sapphire first. By the Gods, if he did, he would insist on taking that off to play with too. His son, like him, had a taste for the finer things in life, it would seem.

“He’s taken well to the waters, I think,” she said. Her fondness for the little lad and her husband was evident in her face as she watched them. Her son had taken to swinging his arms in all directions, occasionally hitting his father’s face.

“Water does not mix with fire and blood. He should not be taking so well to the waters.”

“Suppose he can embrace it all then. Perhaps he’s… special.” She rose to meet her son’s eyes, leaving a kiss on his cheek. The boy smiled, a handful of his father’s alabaster hair in his hands as he pulled. Aemond winced, and she giggled. 

“Zaldrītsos…” Aemond murmured, a quiet plea to his son to stop. It fell on deaf ears, but he did not mind. [Little dragon]

A maid had come to inform them that their presence was requested in the keep, and Aemond handed the boy over to her before walking back to give his wife his hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and rubbed her hand with his before leading them away, their steps slow and relaxed.

“We should have another,” she said. Her smile, the source of all his content, was as bright as the sun. “You should take me tonight,” she murmured then, eyes quickly blackened by lust. He watched as the girl with childish wonder transformed into a seductress, and he lost even before he tried - defeat had never felt sweeter.

He could never deny her anything she wanted.

“Do you want me, wife?” He muttered darkly as he halted his steps, turning towards her. He held her by the waist and kissed her brow, waiting for her to respond. 

“I always want you,” she murmured, eyes fluttering at the closeness of his lips. Her bright eyes sought his lilac one as the sound of the waves rippled through the air. “I also want to bear you another child. Would you like that, husband? Another little babe for us to love…”

He nodded and kissed her, pouring all his passion into it as he devoured her lips. “You do look beautiful, belly round and full with my child.”

That night, he choked her name out like an urgent prayer while he spilled into her, his peak following soon after hers. He then peppered kisses across her face and neck as the smell of sweat and coupling engulfed them, while she held onto his hair and let her hand wander over it in a soothing manner. He rubbed a hand over her belly, praying that his seed had taken. If not, he would seek her out and touch her everywhere once more - he would never be tired of her.

If another child was what she desired, then she shall have it - for how could he ever deny her?

The burns and injuries had ruined any spirit Aegon may have had as King.

He had watched his brother as he grew into a fierce protector of his family soon after being crowned. Ser Criston had made clear the dangers that they posed to Rhaenyra with their very existence, and it was all Aegon needed to grow into his role as the rightful monarch. However, he had gotten ahead of himself and underestimated his skills as a dragonriding fighter and gotten himself hurt.

Aemond’s role as Prince Regent was something that he slid into seamlessly - he had always known that he was the better fit for the throne after all. His first action was to ensure the safety of his own wife, Helaena and her three children.

“They’ve been moved to our father’s old chambers. Deep in the Holdfast, far away from any possible intru-”

“I know where the chambers are, Aemond. Will you shut up? You’re giving me a headache.” Aegon interrupted, words slurred as he sipped on Arbor Red. The wine sloshed in the cup as it moved in his unsteady hands. 

His eyes were trained on his brother, a tired and tested man who was now incharge of running a Kingdom. Aegon knew that the crown was heavy, but it did not compare to the weight of the world that Aemond always carried on his shoulders. It only seemed to have gotten worse since his son’s death and his wife’s isolation.

“Does she fare any better?”

“No.” It is all Aemond wishes to say on the matter.

While he may not want to speak of the family he had lost, Aemond knew that he would protect those he was left with every breath in his body if need be. He may not have been there for his little boy, but he would die before he let a hair on any of his remaining family members’ heads be touched. The regret of being an inadequate husband and father pricked at him like the heat from the bright blaze of the fire in the hearth, and he walked out with purpose.

He knew where he was going next. After all, his feet always carried him to her at nightfall.

When Aemond came home dripping wet from the rain that had drenched him at Storm’s End, he was convinced that he had ruined everything good that he had. He could not imagine a simple scratch on his little boy without feeling angered - how could he expect Rhaenyra to simply accept her son’s death? 

He had to get them safe. He had to keep them safe. He had to keep them safe. Safe, safe, safe.

She had just left the babe with the nursemaid and come to their chambers to find a moment of quiet before her son’s inevitable crying began again. Her eyes widened when she opened the door to find her husband completely drenched, looking like he was inviting death with open arms. He may as well have.

“Aemond..” She rushed to him immediately, hands going to his damp hair and clothes. “Gods did it rain on your ride back home? Let me fetch you some clean clothes and something to dry yourself with.” He reached out to her before she could go too far, and she gasped at how cold his touch was.

It was always warm, and tonight it was not.

“Stay, please.”

“I need you to put on something warm first, Aemond. You’ll catch a chill.”

She was too distracted by his wet state to notice the tears mixed with the raindrops. He said nothing as she walked away and brought back fresh garb for him to change into. She quietly bade that he raise his arms and he obeyed, not having the strength to do anything else. Slowly, each garment fell with a wet thwack to the floor and she took to wiping all the water off of him. 

His grave silence unnerved her immensely, and she knew something was wrong. She would wait for him to say it.

She dressed him in a linen undershirt and breeches and took him to his beloved chair by the fire, in hopes that it would warm him up and encourage him to tell her of what plagued him. He sat in silence for a long while as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her forehead leaning on one of his thighs while her finger drew mindless patterns on the other. 

His hand always reached for her hair when they sat like this, but tonight, that was not the case. She looked up at him with inquiring eyes, and as he caught her vision with his one eye, he did not have the heart to tell her what he had done, but he had to.

“I killed Lucerys Velaryon.” His voice is hoarse and the words are choked out with difficulty, and while the weight of his actions hit him hard, it was harder to watch his sweet wife’s concerned face morph into something else entirely.

“What?”

“He was sent as an envoy. I only meant…” He gulped, and the tears fell freely once more. 

She quickly lifted herself up and straddled him, holding his face in both her hands. Her fingers caught every tear that fell in quick succession. “Tell me, go on.”

“I only meant to scare him. I need you to believe me, I did not mean to kill him.” 

Her husband was a proud man, and it made her stomach churn to see him sound so broken. She feared that she may not like what she was about to hear, but she had promised to be his other half for all his life, and now he needed her. 

He may be fearsome, but he was not a cold-blooded murderer. He did not mean to kill him - but how much weight did his intent hold, now that the boy was dead?

“I believe you. Go on.”

“The dragons…” He let out a hoarse breath and she continued to wipe at his tears with the tips of her thumbs - softness that he right now felt very undeserving of. “Arrax breathed fire at Vhagar and she retaliated, she bit into the dragon’s neck and Luke fell, so did Arrax.” 

She felt light headed with worry. How could she stomach the thought of a young boy falling to his death from the skies? How could she, when she was a mother to a little boy herself?

His uncle, Daemon, was going to come for them, Aemond was sure of that. But he could not bring himself to think of much else as he watched his wife digest all that he had told her, never once ceasing to remind him that she believed him, even if nobody else would. 

When they rose, Aemond’s anger knew no bounds. The possible consequences ran through his mind as he pushed his desk onto the floor with brute force. The sharp edges of her vanity had drawn blood from the back of his hand as he moved in frustration, and she was quick to hold onto him and remind him of her presence. He was not alone, he had her.

“Take me. Take it out on me.” Aemond could not think straight, and she could not bear to see him hurt himself, any more than he already has. It is this very thought that drives her to take his hand and lay it upon her clothed chest.

He took her from behind that night, hands clutching onto her bouncing breasts. Every string that was stretched had snapped with each rough thrust into her, the sounds of skin slapping skin somehow seeming too rough that night. “We’re going to be fine, wife,” he groaned - and she did not know whom he was trying to placate - her, or himself? 

“I will keep you safe, the both of you.”

When he was done with her, she was left looking ragged with dried tear tracks on her face. He wanted to apologize - it seemed as though he hurt everything he touched, and after his now dead Stong nephew, his own sweet wife was his latest victim.

She held him between her breasts that night as they both wept, at a loss for words at what he had done. She did not know how to comfort him or rid him of the guilt or paranoia that his mind now played host to.

What she did know is that her husband needed her, and that she was not going anywhere. So when he suggested sending her and their son away, fearing for her safety, she begged him to let her stand by his side.

“If something were to happen to me, there would be nobody to protect you and our boy.”

“If something were to happen to you, our son and I would much rather follow you than brave many years alone.” 

He reluctantly gave in, thinking that an increased guard and his constant presence around them would be enough to keep them unharmed. 

How wrong he was.

He had walked away only for a moment. 

His wife had wanted to eat some cake during the night - he suspected that she was with child again. Little did he know that it was the last moment of their happy marriage. The sight that he had walked back into was something that would never fail to haunt him.

Dead guards, a whole litany of them. His wife in her bloodied white shift, holding onto their son’s decapitated body. All the light in her eyes had dimmed as he stood frozen in place, his eye widened at the harrowing sight before him. 

She wailed as she clutched the corpse to her chest, with no care for the injuries on her own body, or the blood of their babe that was now mixed in with her own.

“My boy, my precious boy…”

The rest of the royal family soon followed and his mother pulled her away from the babe’s lifeless body. He fell to the floor with no one to hold him, and Aemond could do nothing but watch.  Aegon’s angry calls for his nephew’s head to be brought back along with the killers slipped into one ear and slipped out the other, and he went numb as he realized that the consequences of his actions had caught up to him. 

Him, he could understand. But his sweet wife, his little son? What had they done?

A son for a son.

The rational part of his mind would have argued that Luke’s death probably left Rhaenyra feeling the same tragedy that he was faced with - but he was anything but rational in that moment. His fists clenched as his knuckles met the wall, and Aegon had to physically restrain him from walking out to catch the rats himself.

“She needs you. She needs you. She needs you. Listen to me, Aemond!”

Helaena had collapsed onto the chair entirely, repeating ominous words that he did not register at all. 

“Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese.”

Aegon had gone to join in the hunt for his nephew’s killers, and she kept rocking herself back and forth at the sight of the blood that now painted the walls and floors of her brother’s chambers until she was led away. Aemond stood, all alone in a pool of his son’s and wife’s blood. 

When the Silent Sisters were led into the chamber by his grandfather, Aemond froze. His wife had held their lifeless son to her breast as she cried, but he could not bring himself to look at him, much less touch him.

Hours later, with patches of his own son's blood soaked through his clothes, he had gone to see her. He held her in his arms as she sobbed through the night, trying to push him away with each firm hit to his chest. Aemond shushed her over and over to no avail, holding her closer each time she tried to separate herself from him. Sometime during that night, her eyes had become lifeless; a deep abyss. The sight of it finally drove him to tears too, with his good eye becoming a glistening violet ring floating in a sea of angry red.

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins. They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment when the madness had sunk its claws into his wife. 

It was right then as he held her, comforting her and apologizing like a madman for tainting her life with his presence. 

The moonlight diverged through the stained glass windows that directly faced the room where she now resided. She had been kept in these chambers before their wedding, and she often spoke of how beautiful the lights were when they fell directly onto the corridors, reflecting the colors of the glass that they slid through. He wondered if she still thought the same. He wondered if she even looked.

In the day that followed their son’s death, they had burned their little boy and watched as his body was wheeled around the streets of King’s Landing for their benefit. Aemond had wanted to retch then, but he held his wife tight as the people empathized with the kind princess whose time as a doting mother had been brutally cut short. 

She fared worse - she looked dead in her eyes, and he was sure she was lost on the inside too. He did not know if she even sensed his hold on her as she kept muttering their dead boy’s name in a series of weak whimpers.

Two days later, she had lost their second child. He held her from behind and rocked her gently as the blood flowed from between her thighs for hours, the babe coming out in clumps of bloodied skin, having never drawn breath. Every moment of his wife’s torture plagued Aemond’s existence, and he questioned his abilities as a protector while grieving his son and his unborn child all alone. 

The Gods were cruel to him in their games. They made him watch as his son’s life was taken, and they took bits of his wife’s mind and soul with each passing day. He supposed that this was the hand that kinslayers were dealt.

It was a slow death for Aemond, and it had begun the day his son was killed. Now he had to watch as his once vivacious wife completely lost hold over all her senses, and lived in a world where he could not reach her.

On some days, she would receive him with love, as though his presence in her life had not destroyed her completely. He would be able to revel in her touch once more, if only to simply be able to remind himself that she was still alive - in body, if not soul. He missed her, his wife, his woman, his entire heart. But his actions had killed her from the inside - did he have a right to his yearning anymore? He did not want to know, for he feared that he may not like the answer.

On other days, she would be the complete embodiment of madness. She would fight the maesters and scream at them, begging for them to let her die and throw herself off the window. She would pull at her beautiful hair, blame him continuously and shriek, mourning the loss of their child. 

When she was done, she'd lower her voice and murmur words into the air. Speaking to no one in particular, almost like a ghost, she'd fidget with her dress and say, "His body twitched after they hurt him. My baby boy suffered. Oh, my boy!"

He may not have wielded the knife that removed his head, but his actions caused it. He may as well have killed his son himself. Guilt was not an emotion that Aemond Targaryen knew well as a boy, but it was all he now knew as a grown man.

She would bawl and cry at him to go away. She would scream at him to leave her alone, and blame him for killing her children - and rightfully so. And though it pricked at his heart, he would come back every night. 

He wonders how she is feeling tonight. He wishes she was ignorant and unaware, for he is desperate for her touch, her company. It has been weeks. He is brought back to reality when the Maester’s gown billows behind him in the night wind. 

“Your Grace.” he bows. 

“How is she?”

“Somewhat calmed tonight and not lucid, my prince.” The old man sighs before continuing. “The Princess continues to ask for her little prince. We have given her milk of the poppy, so she may fall asleep soon enough.”

 “Hm.”

He is mildly relieved to hear that she is not herself tonight - for it allows him to relive some of their happier days. 

In his hand is a book - Ten Thousand Ships, the very one that he had gifted her. He dismisses the maester and his stewards follow behind him. Aemond walks into the room with his mind steeled, ready to be brave - for himself and for her.

“Husband! Come, come!” Her cheery voice is not quite hers, and it unnerves Aemond - her words are not from her heart, and it takes everything in him to not fall to his knees and apologize once more for what he has done to her. “The Maester said our boy’s learning to walk! Did you see him? I was promised that you would bring him tonight! Where is he?”

Gone, where we cannot see him, he wants to say. But how could he, without wanting to throw himself at her feet in regret? “He is tired. All that walking has exhausted him.”

“I suppose, yes! They tried to force me to take that vile concoction once more tonight, I managed to push it away and evade them! Look!” His gaze follows her hand and sees the spilled milk of the poppy on the floor. His wife was a calm and steady woman, and now she was behaving like a child and mistreating maesters.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You should not do that, wife. It is not proper.” 

He holds her hand and kisses her knuckles, before leaning his head back to look at her. Her hair has not been combed today, and he gently turns her around to run his fingers through her hair, digits trembling at touching her once more. She could come to at any moment and remember who had caused her such distress, and then she would cry until he walked away - the very real possibility rakes at Aemond, so he remains prepared for her to push him away any time now.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

"I know. I drank it the second time. I'm sorry."

He then turns her back to face him and notices the dark rims around her empty eyes. He sighs and lets out a long, heavy breath. If he was drunk enough and she was unaware, he would fool himself into thinking that they were alright. But they aren’t. 

“It is time to go to bed, wife. Will you come with me?”  I love you, I miss you and I am sorry. Will you come back to me? Please?

He kisses both her eyelids and leads her to the bed in her shift. He gently helps her lay down, following her immediately as he lays next to her. She leans into his hold seamlessly and he tightens his arm around her - it hurts him how despite her madness, her penchant to seek out his touch never changes.

He takes the book from the bedside table, and she squeals. “Will you read to me tonight, husband? I do love it when you read to me. Perhaps a quiet moment between the both of us before the maids bring our son back? You know how he makes a fuss and refuses to give us a moment of quiet!” She laughs, and Aemond holds his tears back once more.

“Of course.” He kisses her temple.

He begins reading and the dry sounds of his throat lull her to sleep in his arms as he rakes his fingers through her hair. When she has completely drifted away from him, he allows himself a moment of thought and kisses her on the lips - watching as she murmurs his name.

He had taken her to wife, and sworn to protect her from any harm that may come her way. In the end, the only one she had to be protected from, was himself. He failed her, and now, he would not rest until he picked up all the pieces and put her back together.

When morning comes, she may still be unconscious of her surroundings and allow him some more time, or she may be lucid and scratch at his face until he leaves her alone. The uncertainty kills him, but he will allow himself to enjoy her tonight. 

It was on this very day that he had kissed her for the first time, in the Sept, between the statues of the Mother and the Father. On this day, four years ago, they were married. 

And on this day, he continues to read to her because she had asked, even when she had fallen asleep - for how could he ever deny her?

BONUS CHAPTER FOR THIS FIC, HERE.

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MASTERLIST

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond fic #aemond #pro aemond targaryen #aemond stannies #aemond angst #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fanfiction

[paperultra]

candy stripes.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5,048 words Warnings: Swearing, hospital setting [A/n: Soulmate AU. :)]

sortiger (adjective): delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular

Nobody else can see the string but you.

You wish you didn’t. It has no texture, no weight, so you can’t understand why it can’t be invisible too. But the string demands attention with every use of your hands, seizes your eye when you wash dishes in the morning and brush your teeth at night, a garish and bloody red that matches the stripes of your uniform.

You hate your string and you hate the color red.

Miss Xinyu, the old lady in Room 30, has one too. At least, that’s what she had told you when you gained the courage to mention yours one day, not knowing what it meant and how much you would come to dread it.

“It’s your red string of fate,” she had explained. “It connects you to the person who understands you more than anyone else in the world.”

In other words, your soulmate. Your one and only.

Miss Xinyu says you’re a lucky ducky, knowing what your future holds.

Her string goes into the ground now. You don’t think being reminded of a dead person whenever you look at your pinkie is very lucky.

The biggest reason why you hate the string so much, though, is because you’ve always had a problem doing what you’re supposed to unless you want to, which causes a lot of trouble for a nine-year-old girl. You already have trouble being nice to patients who are mean to you, so how can you love and wait for someone you’ve never met? It makes you feel icky.

Why can’t you choose? How come you have to have one at all?

Your only source of comfort is that your string is very, very thin and runs out of the hospital. That means your soulmate, whoever they are, is very, very far away. You’d very much like it to stay that way.

But it doesn’t.

—

Nurse Taoh wants you to watch the patients in Room 8 while he finishes his charts. You don’t really want to, if only because it’s Nurse Taoh asking – he likes to order you around more than Dr. Gu – but you don’t want to get into trouble again, so you go.

(… And okay, you are just a little bit curious about the new inpatients. You only know three things about them: one, they were brought in together last night while you were in your room poking holes into your paper instead of correcting it; two, they’re a man and a boy, presumably father and son; and three, everyone says it’s a miracle they’re still alive.)

(Then again, you’ve seen many miracles here.)

The unit is quiet as you walk down the hallway. Quiet, but not silent, as your polished shoes squeak like little mice against the floor and you whisper the room numbers as you pass by them. Two, four, six – eight.

You stop and knock, three sharp raps against the brown wood.

“Hello?” You open the door and poke your head in. “My name is –”

The squiggly-patterned curtain that often separates patients for privacy is drawn, and you clamp your mouth shut as you realize the patient closest to you is asleep.

Shutting the door silently, you creep closer to the foot of his bed. The man underneath the sheets lies quietly; he is little more than a skeleton, eyes sunken and bones sticking out underneath blistered skin. His beard is long and scraggly, but it pales in comparison to his mustache, each side braided and sticking out to the sides.

He looks angry, even though he’s sleeping. You hope he’s not the type to wake up and yell at you as you tiptoe past to check on the boy.

You pass the curtain, catch a glimpse of the bed sheets, and see –

Red.

Your feet root themselves in place, the room suddenly devoid of air.

You stare. Blink hard, twice. Look again. Then, trembling, you look down at your hand.

Your eyes trace the string around your own finger, following down to the dip of it that barely touches the ground and back up over the blankets until it ends in a red loop around the boy’s pinkie, tied off with a little bow.

Your stomach turns.

Stumbling forward, you make your way to the visitor’s chair in the corner. You slump down into it and stare straight ahead at the curtain, refusing to look at the boy’s face.

He continues to sleep.

You don’t want him to wake up.

—

The boy does not stir during your first meeting, but that small mercy is quickly eclipsed two days later by a single bowl of chicken broth.

The look on your face is sour as you walk down the hallway again, the broth splashing up against the lid with each step. Because most of the patients in the hospital you live in are elderly, the staff have somehow gotten it into their heads that you simply must spend time with the boy in Room 8 because he is your age and you need to socialize with other kids. You very much don’t want to. Not with him, at least.

Dr. Gu is just leaving the room when you arrive. She gives you a quick smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling, and pats your head.

“So you heard that the boy woke up, huh?”

You grunt, looking away with a pout. “Can’t you give this to him, Dr. Gu?”

“Nope. I have to finish my rounds,” she says. “Go in and have a chat. His name is Sanji. You’ll like him.”

“I doubt it,” you mumble underneath your breath.

Dr. Gu probably hears you, but she doesn’t scold you, merely patting your head one last time before you enter Room 8.

The dividing curtain is drawn this time. The window curtains are pulled back, too; it’s a somewhat cloudy day outside, but bright enough to sharpen the shadows on the walls and make the boy look even paler than you remember.

His eyes are closed as you approach. A sprout of hope that he might have fallen asleep again blooms in your chest – you’ll just leave the broth on the table, you think to yourself, and go about the rest of your day. Nobody said you had to watch him drink it.

You get about five feet away, already planning to drop some books off to the other rooms, when the boy’s nose suddenly twitches.

His eyes open to thin slits. Your hope shrivels like a weed in the desert as he speaks.

“What’s that?” His voice is quiet and raspy.

Your eyebrow twitches. “It’s just chicken broth,” you say tartly, setting the tray down on the overbed table and turning it around so that it’s over his lap. You take off the lid and steam bursts from the bowl.

The boy reaches up to rub his eyes. The red string dangles from his pinkie, and you quickly look away with a scowl.

“Who are you?” he asks, scooting back to sit up more as he gradually becomes more alert.

Reluctantly, you give him your name. “Will you need help with the soup?”

He shakes his head. His gaze latches onto the contents of his bowl, and he stops, transfixed.

You scramble to stop him as he suddenly grabs the bowl and attempts to gulp it all down in one go.

“Don’t do that! You’ll throw up!” Without thinking, you seize his hands and pry the bowl away from his mouth. A few drops of broth splash over the blankets and his gown, and your irritation grows. Now you’ll have to fix that. “Drink it slowly.”

“I haven’t eaten anything for weeks,” the boy complains. “What do you know?”

“I’ve been studying medicine since I was a little kid,” you retort. “So I know a lot.”

He frowns. “You are a little kid.”

“I’m nine years old!”

“No, I’m nine! You don’t look as old as me!”

There’s no way this … this brat is the same age as you! Fuming, you let go of the bowl and jab a finger at his face. “I am nine years old and I know more than you! You can’t drink the broth like that!”

You’re met with silence. The boy’s eyes are wider than saucers. Pride wells up inside you at your ability to shut him up.

But then he puts the bowl down and seizes your hand, and your pride gives way to horror as he folds down your index finger and lifts your pinkie – the pinkie with the red string wrapped around it.

He lifts his own pinkie, the rest of his fingers folded. Your jaw clenches when you see how the string has shortened to mere inches, bridging the space between his hand and yours.

“Holy shit,” the boy says. The largest grin spreads across his face, and it’s blinding and scary and you hate it, you hate it. “It’s you! You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?!”

“No,” you reply quickly, whipping your hand behind your back and backing away. “No, I’m not!”

“But you see the string too! I knew I’d meet you some day. How come you’re”— he pushes the table away, eagerly but just gentle enough so no more of the broth spills—“how come you’re hiding it behind your back?”

“I’m not your soulmate,” you bark, panic rising in your chest. “Don’t you ever say that!”

You only catch a glimpse of the hurt that flashes across the boy’s face before you turn around and dash out of the room.

Mrs. Hong finds you in the storage closet later, curled up behind the shelves of gauze and IV tubing. She coaxes you out with a promise of rice balls and no questions asked. You wish all the adults were more like her.

—

The next day, Miss Jaylee hoists you over her shoulder like a human sacrifice and brings you to Room 8.

“I don’t want to see him! You can’t make me!”

“He’s refusing treatment and food unless he sees you,” the woman answers briskly, each of her steps jostling you up and down. “You don’t want to be responsible if Sanji dies, do you?”

“I don’t care if he dies!”

Miss Jaylee clicks her tongue and walks faster.

You flail, feeling a little guilty for your cruel words but too proud to take them back. Sanji couldn’t have heard you, anyway, and nobody here is going to let him die no matter what he does or what you say.

You hear a door swing open. Miss Jaylee walks into Room 8 and turns around, and you lift your head, glaring at Sanji as his face lights up and his cheeks turn rosy.

“[Y/n]!”

Your own cheeks burn in embarrassment at the position you’re currently in. This, you only now realize, is way worse than walking into the room voluntarily.

“How come they’re carrying you? Are you okay?” he asks.

“Let them treat you,” you snap, arms limp and dangling. “And eat your stupid food or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay.” You nod, opening your mouth to speak again only for him to continue, “But only if I get to talk to you afterwards.”

What is he, a prince?! What makes it so easy for him to demand such things?

“That wasn’t what you told them,” you protest, squirming, but Miss Jaylee only tightens her arm around your waist.

(“Be nice,” she warns. You growl.)

“It’s important,” Sanji stresses, looking pointedly down at his hand and then back at you.

You bite down on your tongue as the red string glimmers in the light.

Dr. Gu and Nurse Taoh stare at you expectantly. Your neck is starting to ache from craning it, and there’s a feeling that you’ll never stand on your own two feet again unless you do what he wants.

“… Fine,” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Only once you promise to stay does Miss Jaylee let you slide off her shoulder. You stand to the side, arms crossed impatiently as they take Sanji’s vitals and ask him some questions. He’s only half paying attention, head turning to look at you more than once, which you merely turn up your nose at.

“All right, we’ll leave you two to chat now,” Dr. Gu says. “If you need anything, just let [Y/n] know, okay?”

“Okay,” Sanji says.

With that, the three adults leave, and you and Sanji are left alone once more.

“I’m glad you came. They were starting to get mad at me,” he says, then cuts straight to the chase. “How come you don’t want to be my soulmate?”

“Because I don’t want a soulmate,” you immediately reply.

“But why? It’s nice, isn’t it? Being special to each other?”

“You can’t be special to me. We’re not even friends.”

For the second time, Sanji looks hurt.

“…We’re not?” he asks. You shake your head. “But … you brought me food.”

You’re befuddled. “Because Dr. Gu made me,” you say, trying to ignore the disappointment on his face. “Besides, I yelled at you yesterday. Friends don’t yell at each other.”

“I thought that you were maybe just really surprised …” His voice gets smaller and smaller. “Some people get mad when they’re just surprised …”

“I wasn’t surprised. I saw it when you were still asleep.”

“Oh,” Sanji mumbles. He looks down at the sheets, scratching at the wrinkle in the thin white fabric. “Okay.”

He says nothing more. You fidget, wondering if he’s pretending to look like he’s about to cry or if he really is trying not to. You’re not good with people who start crying.

You chew on your bottom lip. Sanji tucks his hand with the string on it underneath his bed sheets, his eyes disappearing behind his tangled hair, and fine, you feel kind of bad whether he’s tricking you or not.

“I’ll only be friends with you if you don’t talk about being soulmates,” you finally tell him begrudgingly. “Not ever, okay?”

His head shoots back up. “Really?!”

“Only if you don’t talk about it! I’m serious.” You huff at Sanji’s sudden change in mood and click your tongue. “If you stay sad you might not get better.  Don’t get the wrong idea!”

He nods, grinning bigger than ever.

Oh, dear, you think as he promises that he’ll be a really, really good friend, you might have made a mistake.

—

By the fifth day, Zeff, the man who was brought in with Sanji, is awake.

You hear them arguing before you see them, pushing a cart of books for Sanji to browse through as per your agreement the day before. They’re loud, and Sanji calls the man an old shitbag right as you knock and push the door open.

“I’m here,” you announce, and the two quiet down to look at you. You give Zeff a polite smile. “Hello, sir. I’m [Y/n].”

“Hello, little miss,” Zeff says, his features softening from the angry expression he’d directed towards Sanji a moment before.

“Why are you being nice to her and not me?” Sanji pipes up from his side of the room, all puffed-out cheeks and petulantly crossed arms.

“Because she don’t make my ears ring with nonstop whining,” the man answers sharply. “Now get a book and read so I can finally have some peace and quiet.”

“You get a book and read,” Sanji grumbles.

“What was that, boy?”

You cut in before they start bickering all over again. “Do you want a book too, Mr. Zeff?”

Zeff’s gaze flicks over to you once more, and your shoulders tense. The man takes a deep, calming breath, and then he sighs, reclining back into his pillow and closing his eyes. “No, thank you, little miss,” he mutters. “Reading’s no good for my head right now.”

“Do you have a headache?” He grunts in affirmation. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

“No, no, don’t need any of that.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a headache,” Sanji accuses.

Zeff’s mustache twitches. “All you need to know is that you oughta stop yappin’ when a man wants peace and quiet!”

(Not again.)

As you give up and walk over to draw the curtains, Sanji says your name desperately. “Can we read somewhere else?” he pleads when you glance at him. “I don’t want to be stuck in here with him right now.”

Narrowing your eyes, you appraise his weak-looking frame, pointedly skimming past the red string that snakes over to you. “Can you even walk around yet?”

“Yeah,” he says defensively. He wriggles out of the bed sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Holding onto the side rail, he stands up and grips the IV pole for support. Though he’s a little shaky, he shuffles a few steps towards you and smiles when he manages to do so. “See?”

Well, you think, if you and Sanji stay here, you’ll need to have some light in order to read. But it will probably help Zeff if the room is as dark as possible, so if you guys go somewhere else, Sanji’s lamp won’t need to be on.

“Okay,” you agree. “Wait here. I’ll get some slippers.”

Ten minutes later, with Sanji shuffling along in his slippers, IV pole in one hand and your arm in the other, the two of you arrive at the common room and find chairs in the corner to sit down in.

“These’re mostly history books and stories for old people,” you explain as you pull out the one cooking-related book you could find from the top basket of the cart. “This was the only food one I could find.”

“That’s okay.” Sanji takes the book from you and begins to flip through it. “Oh, this one’s about seafood in the South Blue! Have you ever had any?”

“No.”

“Me, neither. I’ll try it someday, though … hey, this fish looks like a fried egg!”

Against your will, you perk up. “… Really?”

For the next half-hour, Sanji fawns over the spices used on grilled Sea King meat and how to cook wine clams and the best fish for South Blue-style sushi. And it’s … not boring. He doesn’t hog the book, and the pictures are cool, and he asks you which ones you think are the coolest or would taste the best. Looking at a book with another kid is different from reading with an adult. It feels like you’re sharing, not like you’re being tested on your comprehension or how to pronounce long words.

Hanging out with Sanji is okay when the string doesn’t sour it.

“So you want to cook all of these one day?” you ask after scanning through a full-color page of steamed Ocean Hawk feet.

“I want to cook things from all four seas,” Sanji says. His legs bounce with excitement. “That’s why I’m gonna find the All Blue.”

“What’s that?”

The boy glows.

“It’s where the North, East, South, and West Blue seas all meet. Think about it – fresh-caught fish from all over the world all in one place! I’ll be able to cook dishes no one’s ever cooked or tasted before.”

You’ve never heard of such a place. But Sanji talks about it with such conviction, such resolve, that you figure the All Blue could really exist.

“I hope you find it,” you say, and you mean it.

“I will.” Sanji closes the book. “And when I do, I’ll cook something just for you. A-As a friend.”

He peeks over at you, his eyes even brighter and bluer than before, his cheeks flushing a familiar red. And you find yourself believing him, just a little bit.

—

Sanji keeps his promise.

You know he still likes you (blech) and so does most of the staff (double blech). Nurse Taoh thinks it’s funny and teases you about your little boyfriend in Room 8 who always asks where you are. Mrs. Hong reminds you to be sensitive whenever you stop by to pick up meals. Dr. Gu tells you to tell her right away if Sanji ever does something that makes you uncomfortable.

But he never does. Sometimes his words spill out clumsily like a broken faucet and other times he blushes and stutters, leaving you to wonder what he’s going on about, but he doesn’t try to kiss you or hold your hand, and he doesn’t say a word about the red string that is very much still there. If anything, he just annoys you at times, with how nice he is to you and how sunny he gets when you eat lunch with him sometimes.

You’ve never seen somebody so happy to be in a hospital before, even if it’s just because he wants you to like him. It’s weird.

It’s on the eighth day of Zeff and Sanji’s stay that you learn not everything is how it seems.

You’d gotten in trouble the night before for digging holes in the garden – you had kept the seed from your dinner plum and wanted to see if you could make it grow, but Miss Jaylee had caught you while taking Mr. Hu out for some air – so you’re somewhat grumpy on your way to Room 8, two notebooks in hand.

One of them is blank for Sanji. He wants to record all the meals he’s gotten and write down how he would make them. The second notebook is full of your notes that you need to study for your quiz tomorrow.

Zeff is sleeping again when you enter. You move quietly across the room to where Sanji is lying with his back to the door.

“Sanji.” You can see his shoulders tense underneath the sheets, but strangely, he does not roll over to face you. “I have your notebook.”

No answer. That is even stranger.

Frowning, you walk around to the other side of the bed. Sanji moves to bury his face into his pillow, but not before you hear a very soft, wet sniffle.

“Sanji?”

“Sorry.” His voice is high and so muffled you can barely understand him. “You can just leave it on the table.”

“Why are you crying?” In the back of your head, you know it is not the most sensitive thing to ask. But for some reason, you need to know. “I won’t laugh or tell anyone.”

You hear another sniffle from the mop of blond hair. It takes a long time for Sanji to answer, but he eventually does.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

Your brow furrows. “Oh,” you say, somewhat surprised. Most people don’t like being in a hospital, you’re pretty sure of that, but you didn’t know Sanji didn’t like it this much. “Why?”

Maybe he’s tired of getting poked all the time, or the bland food, or the hospital smell. Nobody here can change that. Maybe he’s homesick. The hospital can’t fix that, either.

Sanji turns his head slightly and takes in a small, shuddering breath. “’Cause it … it makes me remember my mum … when she was sick,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

“… Oh.”

You had assumed, upon learning that Zeff and Sanji were not at all related, that Sanji was like you and never knew his parents. He’d never talked about having any before, only his time on the Orbit and with Zeff. But he does know them – his mother, at least. And she was sick. The memory is what’s making him so sad, and it’s yet another thing that the hospital can’t help.

You don’t want him to be sad. You did make him your friend, after all, even if he does annoy you sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, standing awkwardly with his notebook still in your possession. You remember what Miss Jaylee has told other patients before. “That, um, must have been really hard for you.”

Sanji squeezes his pillow more tightly.

Should you go? Should you talk to him some more?

“Please don’t tell anybody,” he whispers before you can decide. “Especially Zeff.”

“I won’t,” you reply firmly. “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry I can’t hang out today. I really wanted to, but, um …”

“It’s okay. We can do it later.”

“Okay.”

You set his notebook and a pen on the bedside table. After some thought, you refill his water and, after even more hesitation, fix the bed sheets on him a bit so they’re not as twisted up. That is the best you can do.

The red string follows you as you quietly leave Room 8, and you don’t think about it at all.

—

“How do you spell necessary?”

“N-E-S-E-S-A-R-Y.”

“That doesn’t look right. I think it’s S-S-A-R-Y.”

“Maybe you can find it in the book,” Sanji suggests, kicking his feet as he lies on his belly next to you.

“Yeah, maybe.” You flip through the pages of your textbook, searching for the correct spelling lest you get marked off again.

It is the tenth day. Sanji is doing alright, and Zeff is up and about with his new leg. Dr. Gu says they’re good to go, so they’re leaving after Zeff finishes breakfast. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

In the meantime, Sanji is helping you with your essay about scurvy. He knows quite a bit about it, which makes sense since he’s lived at sea, and you hope the perspective he’s supplying will impress Dr. Gu.

(“That’s why every ship needs a good cook,” he tells you proudly. “We make sure everyone eats right so they stay healthy.”

“That’s why you and Mr. Zeff are going to have a restaurant ship, right?”

“Mmhm.”)

Sanji rests his face in his hands, cheeks squished against his palms while you continue to scan through your textbook. You finally find the word in a photo caption and, with a triumphant noise, jot it down correctly.

Someone knocks on your door. The two of you turn to face it simultaneously.

“[Y/n]?” It’s Mrs. Guo.

“Yeah?” you call, already slightly irritated.

“Is Sanji there? It’s time for him to leave.”

A frown presses down on your lips. Sanji sighs and gets up as slowly as possible, taking his notebook with him.

“Coming,” he says.

The two of you dawdle on your way to the hospital entrance. You pet Cabby the dog when you run into him and his handler and stop by the kitchen so Sanji can thank the cooks. There’s no rush, not really, but an uneasy feeling continues to well up in your stomach anyway.

Upon arriving at your destination, Zeff waiting at the double doors with a giant bag of treasure slung over his shoulder, Sanji stops and turns to face you.

“I’m – I’m going now,” he says, as if just realizing it.

“Okay,” you say.

You and Sanji stand in silence for a moment before Sanji’s bottom lip starts to wobble.

Yours starts to wobble too. The uneasy feeling in your stomach bubbles up into your throat and behind your eyes.

“I’ll write you,” he blurts, voice cracking. “You’ll come visit, won’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You don’t know if they’ll let you. The hospital is busy and the ocean is big, bigger than you, and you don’t know it at all like Zeff and Sanji do. “But I’ll write back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You are crying now.

For the first time, your arms wrap around Sanji, and he clings back as both of you bawl. Your tears and snot stain the shoulder of his brand-new clothes. Your uniform grows damp at the collar. It doesn’t matter at all.

“I don’t know if I’ll see you again,” you croak into his shirt, face hot and eyes blurry.

His grip tightens. “You will,” Sanji replies in between sniffles. “I know it. Even if it’s when we’re really old, we’ll see each other again.”

“Okay.”

You believe him. Not because of fate, but because you want to.

—

You write to each other every single week for the next ten years. You tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

—

“You seem nervous,” Nami says. “Don’t tell me a little bribery got under your skin?”

“No, no.” You wipe your hands on your thighs and try to relax against the back of the booth. “Just … not used to places like this, that’s all.”

The Baratie is nicer than you imagined. Sanji had kept you up to date over the years, sending newspaper clippings and recipe drafts as the restaurant he and Zeff founded grew in staff members and reputation, but seeing it in person is a whole different deal. You’re telling the truth when you said you’re not used to a place like this.

But it’s not why you’re nervous.

“Hey, look!” Usopp exclaims, pointing across the room. “I think those guys are gonna fight.”

The rest of you look. Near the kitchen, two men are arguing, and the pink-haired man sitting at the table stands up when the pirate shoves his food onto the floor.

Usopp sucks his teeth. “Yikes.”

Luffy leans forward in interest. Zoro simply stares, and Nami rolls her eyes.

One of the waiters approaches them. You watch as he tries to deescalate the situation, but neither party is having it.

The pink-haired man draws a gun.

Within seconds, the gun and both would-be brawlers are on the floor.

The waiter shoves his foot into the pink-haired man’s back to keep him down, then picks up the plate of bread rolls again, stepping over both groaning bodies with the ease of one who’s done it before.

He reassures the other customers as he approaches your booth. You’re not concerned about the fight so much as you are about the way that you know.

It’s been ten years, but you just know, even before he gets close enough for you to see the red string that trails up and disappears into the black of his pants pocket. Even before you see the blue of his eyes and the annoyed set of his brow, exactly the same as you remember.

He places the rolls down onto the table, and for the first time, you wonder what you want.

“Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?”

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #soulmate au #woefully inaccurate portrayal of patient treatment and progression of recovery i'm sorry #usually i'd be more of a stickler but this is one piece where people don't die after 85 days eating nothing but their own leg #zeff and sanji definitely aren't ur typical patients anyway even in the opla universe lol

[amaea-jewels]

THE CONQUERORS | LEVERAGE

—— summary: In a world where soulmates exist. Your fate has been sealed to the dragons who burned down your home.

—— genre: Dark!au, soulmate au, yandere

—— warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, some very light angst, smut

—— pairing: Aegon Targaryen I x female!reader, Visenya Targaryen x female!reader, Rhaenys Targaryen x female!reader

—— word count: 5k

*no beta we die like bruce wayne's parents * first-time writing, english is not my first language

Never before had you experienced such overwhelming terror. You were a collected person by nature, content with allowing chaos to unfold for others, more so even when you had a hand in creating the chaos. Yet, tonight, it appeared that the karma of all of those nights of "fun" had finally caught up to you.

You found yourself being dragged by two strangers, being forcibly led toward the direction of one of the larger tents positioned at the farthest edge of the camp. You had known you were fucked from the moment your eyes had first locked with violet ones. You had felt the bond snap in place. Those violet eyes, the ones that had burned ypur home to ashes, now held you captive. Your life was now entwined with those haunting eyes that had taken your family from you.

You briefly entertained the idea of ending your life. The tent that they were leading you to was situated relatively close to a cliff. Though you were unsure whether the height would prove itself to be fatal, you felt more than ready to take the risk.

Choosing to end your life would be much more honourable than warming the bed of those who had caused your family's demise.

Newly formed soulbonds were meant to be consummated, and you were well aware that the longer time you spent with them, the more inevitable it would become. You knew that it was only a matter of time.

Ending your own life would save you from that fate.

The thought quickly leaves your mind, as you finally arrive at your destination. A sense of relief washes over you upon seeing that the tent is empty. However, that relief swiftly fades away as you are pulled toward the large bed situated in the room's centre. Your arms are tightly bound by sturdy metal chains, anchoring you to the master bed. You sigh, leaning your head against one of the pillows, attempting to find some rest.

The next several hours pass like a blur.

New guards take the place of the former standing right outside the tent. One usually remains on guard while the other leaves — you're not sure why. The idea of you actually being able to escape or cause any kind of damage is laughable at the very least. How would you be able to run whilst tied to a bed with metal chains?

You know it's late when one of them finally shows up — the darkness that fills the room is more than enough of an indication — it's the older one you realise after a few moments of watching her. Her hair was beautifully braided into intricate patterns. She was beautiful but there was an air of darkness that seemed to cling to her. She swiftly took off her ringmail, not even sparing you a glance, as she started undressing.

You did your best to avert your gaze, as she undressed herself fully. She turned toward you, recognising your presence for the first time since entering the tent.

She sauntered toward you. Her cold harsh unforgivable violet eyes digging into you. You're keenly aware of the fact that she's still not wearing anything, as you keep your gaze toward the side. Attempting to hide yourself from her.

She seizes hold of your jaw, redirecting your gaze toward her, eliminating any possibility of evading her. With a firm touch, she runs a finger across your face. The bond hummed at her actions.

"So you're the one."

Eyes still cold as she studies you carefully. Her hand which was previously caressing your cheek, start travelling down south. Stopping briefly at your throat, giving it a light squeeze before moving on, her hand stops when it reaches down to your waist.

She presses her naked body closer to you, keeping the eye contact as she dares you to do something. An amused smirk crept onto her face, at your obvious discomfort. The both of you stay there for a few minutes. Neither speaking, as she continues to study you with those violet eyes of hers.

Simultaneously, she seizes both of your hands, releasing her grip on your jaw and waist. She brings both your hands up to cup her breasts, as she brings herself closer to you. Both of your bodies pressed tightly up against one another. She slowly starts grinding herself against you. Disregarding you completely.

You start thrashing against her desperately attempting to move your hands away from her body. Suddenly, her grip on your hand loosens, and one of her hands swiftly flies up to encircle your throat, exerting firm pressure to keep you in place. You look up to study her facial expression, to see every ounce of amusement had disappeared, instead replaced by a serious demeanour. She leans in intimately, bringing her face close to your ear.

"You fight so viciously, just like your family. What a shame that couldn't save them from their fate," she speaks venomously, "but there's still some of them left, aren't there?"

She looks down at your horrified expression. A smile starting to bloom across her face.

"Your nephew, what was his name now? Was it Flammin? Fliden? No, it is Florian, is it not? Such a sweet young boy. Just passed his fifth naming day hasn't he?" she taunted a wicked smile still present on her lips, "it would be such a shame if his life was to be cut short now, wouldn't it?"

Tears welled up silently in your eyes as the weight of her words began to settle in. Florian, a young boy, was the sole family you had. His mother had succumbed to childbirth, and his father had fallen victim to those ruthless monsters. Florian had always been a frail and sickly boy. Without proper attention, he wouldn't survive even a fortnight. You had dedicated countless nights to his care since his birth, nurturing him in the absence of your older brother. Who always had matters of the court to attend to.

You felt guilt prickle away at your chest. You had completely forgotten about him. In your defense, you hadn't even been sure he survived. Most had suffered the cruel fate of being burned alive by dragon fire. But surely if Queen Visenya knew of his existence, that must've meant he was still alive?

You didn't answer. There was nothing to be said. She had won. And you could tell she knew that too from the smirk that was covering her face. Slowly her hand started slipping down your body again. Coming to a halt when she neared your breast. Keeping the eye contact, she started palming them. Realishing in seeing you melt. As the bond started to hum even stronger.

"Visenya" a female voice called from behind, halting Visenya’s movement, "playing your games again, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you refer to," she snapped, keeping her back turned toward the woman, "I was simply familiarizing myself with our bonded."

The woman standing behind Visenya was beautiful. With silver hair that swayed openly down her back. It took you a moment, to recall her name; Rhaenys. The youngest of the three conquerors.

You continued to stare at her shamelessly. She was beautiful, both of them were. You absently noted, that her violet eyes were lighter than that of Visenya, there was also a sense of playfulness in them. You presumed that made sense, from the rumours you had heard, Rhaenys was supposed to be the more kindhearted and playful of the three.

Rhaenys' eyes flicked down briefly to meet yours. You were met with a comforting smile, as her eyes flickered up to meet her the older again.

Her lips parted, and unfamiliar words flew from her mouth, a language entirely unknown to your ears. Amidst the unfamiliar words, you faintly understood the mention of the name "Aegon."

Aegon. You're body subconsciously shivered at the mention of his name. It had been him who had discovered you. After the burning of your home, the survivors had been brought before their new king. They were to bow and hail him for his mercy. It was at that moment when your eyes had locked with his, you both knew.

Words had not been exchanged. He had simply walked through the crowd and grabbed a hold of your wrist where your mark was located. With one simple glance at the three-headed dragon symbol marked into your skin, there had been no point in denying it. King Aegon had motioned for his men to take you, as you stood frozen to your spot. He started barking orders for his men to follow, but you could barely make out any word he was saying. Head still reeling from the revelation.

You could feel the irritation radiating off of Visenya as she completely let go of you. The two continued to speak in a foreign language, as Visenya dressed herself once more. The two seemed to be on the verge of arguing before they both left, leaving you alone once again.

You lay sprawled across the bed, sleeping peacefully until the gentle touch of an unfamiliar hand caressing you, caused you to startle awake. Your eyes were still drowsy with sleep, and it took you a minute to fully recognise the person sitting in front of you.

"Aegon," you whispered in shock.

You had only just spoken the words when you jerked away harshly, your body moving on its own accord. You were unaware of when you had fallen asleep last night. You must've drifted off the sleep while lost in your own thoughts.

"Hello," he greeted warmly, edging closer up the bed toward you. You didn't answer. To dazed by sleep to fully comprehend what was going on.

"You must be cold," he tried again. You could feel he was attempting to start up a conversation and unlike Visenya, you had an irking feeling he would want you to respond.

"I'm fine," you responded meekly.

He hummed, seemingly not convinced. He inched himself nearer toward you, aligning his thigh with your reclined figure, the pressure causing the bond to hum. Encouraging you to move closer toward your bonded. You relented. Despite whatever desire that remained inside of you to give in to the bond, and allow for them to do whatever he wished to you. You could not forget the screams of your people as the dragon fire consumed them. How could you ever forget? When their screams would haunt you to the night you die.

“I apologize for Visenya’s behaviour. She can be very . . . . forward to say the least.”

You nodded, accepting his terrible apology and excuse, so you could move on to what was important.

You sat yourself straight up. “My nephew, is he well?”

“He is well,” Aegon confirmed. His finger returned to your face once more, as he started trailing your features. “I can assure you no harm shall come to your nephew, as long you as you remain with us.”

While his words were meant to be comforting. The underlying threat was not lost on you. The message was clear: attempt to run and your nephew would suffer the price for your foolishness. Instead of arguing with the man who held your nephew’s life in his hands, you opted to change the conversation.

“What time is it?”

His reply came instantly. “Late at night. By now most, if not all, have retired to their tents.” His finger continued trailing over your features, now reaching your lips. He applied firm pressure, eyes keen on your every expression, as he moved on to fiddling with your hair.

“Where are your wives then?” You had not meant for the words to escape as bitterly as they did. But at the very thought of Visenya and her complete disregard for your discomfort and family. You couldn’t help the root of anger that was settling over your heart at the mention of her.

“In their tents, resting for the night.” If he had heard the bitterness in your tone then he was certainly ignoring it. He kept a comforting smile on his lips. You furrowed your brows at his answer. Should the Queens not be on the side of the King? While it wasn’t fully uncommon for spouses to have separate rooms, you would’ve assumed bonded like them would remain together.

He seemed to be able to tell your confusion for a moment had not passed before he started explaining himself. “My sisters enjoy having their own separate beds. I fear they would argue far too much about the other stealing all their space. Though I suppose that may perhaps change with your arrival.”

Sisters. They were siblings. Right, you had completely forgotten. The Valyrian custom you had heard so much about. It had completely escaped your mind that all three conquerors were of the same blood and of the same father. Disgust crept its way through you at that revelation.

“Should you not be sleeping?” You quickly said after realising that you had spent far too much time pondering about the strange Valyrian custom. “I much rather spend my time with you,” he replied smoothly. Eyes flickering up to meet yours again.

“And how fun that must be, staring at me sleeping.” You bit back, before realising you had spoken back to the King. “It is indeed,” he replied back rather amused, “especially with my name rolling off your mouth whilst you slept.”

Heat begin to prickle at your skin at his words. Surely you did not?

“What were you dreaming of?” He asks.

You're aware that he’s only asking because he already knows the answer. And despite you not remembering the dream, you're also keenly aware of the sheet of sweat that covers you and the way your undergarments seem to cling to you. You internally curse yourself. You recognise it to be a symptom of not having the bond consummated immediately after your initial meeting. The heightened sense of arousal, the sexual dreams and the need to be in one another’s presence. Direct symptoms of the bond. You remember your mother’s stories of bonded ones meeting for the first time. They usually consummate the bond at the exact moment they meet, the frenzy of the bond simply too strong to resist.

“I don’t remember.” Only a partial lie, you truly did not remember, however, you had an irking suspicion toward what that dream contained, as did he.

He laughs a quiet yet dangerous sound that strokes a fire inside of you. “Perhaps then, I could help you remember. It was after all me you were dreaming of.”

The meaning of his words caused your body to grow fully warm. “You’re flattering yourself far too much,” you lamely attempt.

He moves closer toward you at those words. As you started slowly crawling back from him. A large smirk grew on his face. “I’m sure you like to think that, wouldn’t you.” He drew himself nearer, standing so close to you, you’re faces were merely an inch apart, “but I heard the way you called my name, so sweetly.”

“I did no such thing.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice drops down to a sensual tone, “I myself have to admit that I have found myself dreaming of you plenty of times throughout the day,” he closed his eyes momentarily. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He begins, keeping his eyes closed as if he was imagining it right now. “Or I see you laying on this bed, my sisters between your legs, worshipping you with their mouths, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart starts pounding fast. In fact, you’re not sure if your heart has ever gone this fast before. You feel warm. Too warm, despite the coldness of the night seeping into the room. You can feel your pulse in your throat and the dryness that has settled over your lips.

“So tell me once more, what was it that you were dreaming of?” He asks in a hushed voice.

“Nothing.” You reply quickly, averting your gaze toward the exit. The idea of running away from this entire situation seems suddenly very appealing.

“So you don’t wish for my help?”

This time you don’t reply too afraid of giving the answer that you truly wish to say. After a moment of pure silence. With you ignoring his longing eyes, he decides to change his approach.

“You must be feeling so desperate.”

You don’t respond too afraid to say anything anymore. He leans toward you. You can feel his breath in your ear. You can feel the ache between your legs growing stronger.

“We’re not meant to go this long without each other,” he whispers delicately against you, “you know that. It’s only been a couple of hours. Yet, your body is aching for me, just as I am for you.” He glides his tongue against your cheek. Fire spreads everywhere he touches you. “Poor Visenya could barely contain herself from want. I had to order her and Rhaenys to leave you alone or else I fear they both would’ve ravished you the moment you entered our camp. But I convinced them it would be best if I warmed you up to us first. That all of us at once, forcing your attention upon us. Whilst your mind was still reeling from loss would be far too much.”

Your breath comes out shaky as you struggle to contain your own wants. It would be so wrong to give in. They had murdered your family. They had even threatened the only one that remained. Briefly, you wondered how things could’ve been different if you had met under normal circumstances. Telling your mother how happy you were at finding your bonded, asking permission to court you properly once the frenzy of the bond had passed. How different it all could’ve been. Instead, it was them who had robbed you of all of that. Your mother was dead, and so was your father. There was no need for a courting period for there was no one alive for them to ask permission for your hand from.

“Give yourself to me.” Aegon’s voice is rough with wanting like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, let me ease that ache you feel. Give yourself to us, and in return, we shall give you whatever your heart desires.”

“My heart desires for my family to be alive, tell me can you make that happen.” You snap back tears brimming into your eyes at the mention of your deceased family. A full night had yet not even passed and here you were dishonouring them all by giving yourself to the man who had killed them.

Something shifted in Aegon’s eyes at those words. Violet eyes growing stern much like Visenya’s had. His hand grabbed at your jaw bringing your eyes up to meet his. The familiarity of the situation was not lost upon you. As you stared up into his beautiful violet eyes.

“What happened to your family was their own fault had they simply bent the knee as I had asked of them. There would be no need for the pointless slaughter of your people,” his grip at your jaw tightened, “but I have been merciful have I not? I could’ve burned the survivors in dragon fire as well, but I did not. I could’ve killed your pathetic nephew who continuously begs my guards to be brought into your presence. But I do not. You know why?” He rubs the tears falling from you eyes away, “for I am a merciful King, but that does not mean, I shall remain one.”

“What is merciful of you burning my family alive? It was our King who made the decision to not bend his knee, not us!” You shouted back, jerking yourself free from his hold. "You say it’s mercy letting us live. Very well, then go ahead kill me. Give me the solace of being united with my family once more.”

He laughs, coldly at your little display of anger. “Very well, but remember that you asked for this.”

He backs away from the bed, grabbing his sword on his way out. “Wait! What’re you doing.” You desperately yell after him, “I told you to kill me, to punish me! Wait!”

You struggle against the metal chains keeping you tied to the bed. Your screams for Aegon to stop echoing through the night. Soon those screams are replaced by those of others. Dread fills your being as you realise what was happening.

Tears stream down your face your throat becomes sore from your sobbing. Eventually, you fell asleep, tears still streaming down your face.

Upon awakening, a throbbing headache greeted you—a consequence of having cried yourself to sleep. The light streaming into the tent suggested that it was now daytime. You glanced down at the blanket enveloping your shivering form. Vaguely, you remembered someone entering the tent late at night after you had drifted off. Whether it was Aegon or another you weren't sure. Exhaustion had overwhelmed you to the point where the mere thought of opening your eyes and checking was too much.

After throwing the blanket on you, the person joined you in bed. But remained at a comfortable distance so as not to disturb you. As you stirred around, you became aware that the person had left.

You sighed, running a hand through your face. The metal chains still digging painfully into your wrists.

The events of the previous night played back in your mind on repeat. A sense of dread fills you. What would the consequences be if you continued to reject their advances? How far would they go to keep you in line? How many would die as a consequence of their anger? Would they kill you if you continued to deny them?

You remained sprawled on the bed for several hours, unable to free yourself from the metal chains that bound you. Eventually, tiredness overcame you, and you slipped back into slumber. When you stirred again, it was to the sensation of someone shaking you awake.

"You must be starving," the voice observed. You recognised the voice; Rhaenys.

Before you, she stood, as breathtakingly beautiful as you remembered her to be. It took a moment for her words to fully register, and then you nodded in agreement. The audible growl of your stomach served as a reminder of the prolonged time you had gone with the absence of food—it had been two full days. Rhaenys smiled, offering you a plate of food. Without a word, you accepted the plate and began to eat. Rhaenys remained silent, unabashedly observing you as you ate.

After finishing your meal, you silently set the plate on the side table. The room fell into a hush as the two of you sat in silence, you with your gaze fixed on the floor, and Rhaenys studying you intently. Suddenly, she rose and positioned herself directly behind you on the bed, your back pressed against her chest. A surge of fear gripped you—what was she planning? Would she force herself on you as Visenya had done, or would she threaten you much like Aegon had done?

Surprisingly, she did neither. Instead, she pulled a brush and began running it through your hair. You started relaxing under her gentle ministrations. Eventually, she transitioned into braiding your hair skillfully. Two large braids took shape, and she proceeded to pin them up into an elegant updo, her actions gentle and kind.

"You shouldn't have said those things to Aegon, you upset him."

Her words sent a sudden jolt through your body, erasing any trace of comfort that had briefly settled into you. Instantly, tension gripped your frame.

"Your continued denial of the bond shall only bring pain to us. Embrace it. Acknowledge your destined path. You belong to us now," the calmness Rhaenys exhibited while speaking, caused shivers to run down your spine, "should you attempt to escape with your little nephew, our forces will inevitably hunt you down and bring you back. Half of Westeros has fallen to our whim, the rest shall soon follow. Tell me, who shall risk their lives and those of their kin to shield you from us? Last night, you incurred only a speck of Aegon's wrath, forcing him to unveil but a fraction of our might. Imagine the repercussions should you provoke us once more."

With that final word, she left. Leaving you once more in a state of fear.

Days pass before someone attempts to visit you again. Each day, a new guard came to attend to you, delivering food and bringing you to a nearby lake to clean yourself.

As days pass you begin to fight your own instinct. Begging for you to be near your homicidal bonded. Each night you were haunted by dreams of them, each dream leaving you more frustrated than the last. The fact that you know that they have been visiting every night while you pretend to sleep doesn't help.

It is on the fifth day of this behaviour continuing that you finally snapped.

A gentle hand traced along your back as your consciousness began to return. Most of your nights since entering the camp had been spent sleeping, daydreaming or reading. The familiarity of the rough hand hinted at Aegon's presence, a revelation that didn't surprise you. Although all three had taken turns visiting you every night. Aegon was the one that usually ended up curled next to you sleeping at night.

Upon feeling you stir, he retracted his hand from your back. Instantly your own shot up to stop.

“Wait,” you all but begged, “don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

His voice was rough, just like you remembered it to be. He hadn’t spoken to you directly, not since that night. You had heard him bark orders at his men and seen him conversing with Orys Baratheon. But he had refused to speak to you ever since you had snapped at him.

“Touch me, please.”

The pure desperation in your voice wasn’t lost on you. And though you felt heat creeping up your skin at your confession, you couldn’t deny how badly you needed him. After all, Rhaenys had been right. You were only causing yourself misery by refusing yourself what you wanted. At your request, his hand rubbed down the side of your waist. Your breath becomes shaky as you turn to lie on your back to face him. Aegon was staring at you intensely.

You didn't know what to say to him. How to voice out the desire building in your chest. So you settle for calling out his name. Your voice is dripping with desire and desperation. Gazing into those violet eyes, you catch a glimpse of the fire so characteristic of the Targaryens just before his lips meet yours.

There’s nothing gentle about the kiss shared between you two. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of their true desires for far too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. His hand grabs a hold of your hair and keeps you in place. The bond hums loudly in approval of your actions.

Aegons draws himself back slightly to look at your expression, his free hand moving to palm your breast over your nightgown. You moan at the feeling. His other hand lets go of your hair to slither down your body and press against your core.

“You’re drenched,” he mutters breathlessly, slowing down his movements as he starts to tease you, “I could make you cum from this alone.”

“Please” you beg, your hips bucking up to meet him.

“I should make you beg me for it after everything you put us through.” His eyes are dark as he speaks, his thumb pressing hard against your clit, making you moan. “Luckily, I am a generous King. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod wildly, as he inserts a finger into you, pleasure pulsating through you.

“You’ve been craving this, waiting for this very moment,” Aegon murmurs against your ear with a wicked smile. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper pathetically, your hips rocking wildly aganist him. “Say it,” he demands, pushing another finger into your dripping core.

“I need you to make me come, Aegon. Please, my King, I need you so badly.” You purposefully empathize with his title, knowing what button to press to make him give in.

His violet eyes darken even further as he pulls you towards the edge of the bed, getting down on his knees in front of you. He makes swift work of removing your clothes. Before his lips descend down on you. You moan loudly your hand moving to entangle yourself into his hair.

Aegon mumbles something against your clit that you can’t hear, before teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing it in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers moved to find that soft, aching spot inside of you and he purposefully pressed against it in slow, firm thrusts that made you tremble.

“Aegon, please” you moan, partly as encouragement for him to continue and partly because you want him so badly. You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release. You’re so close.

“Aegon, please,” you plea again, truly desperate now. “Please my king. Please.”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or if it’s just pure coincidence, but in that moment. Aegon shifts his rhythm, bringing you closer toward your peak and over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you hard. You have never felt anything like this before. You feel satisfied but also feel the ache growing stronger than ever before. He looks up at you a smile displayed on his beautiful, handsome face. He crawls up to you, pressing a deep kiss into your lips. He continues kissing you as he slides a hand down to your core again. Firm fingers pressing against you. “There you go, feels good doesn’t it?” He murmurs into your temple pressing a kiss against it, “I wanna see your expression this time. You can come for me again. Can’t you my sweet girl?”

He speaks as if it’s a question but from the way he’s pressing his finger into you. You know, you have no choice in the matter.

“Oh, dear, Lords,” you gasp loudly.

You’re doing so well for me,” he kisses you again. He lowers his voice to a sensual whisper, leaning in closer to your ear. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over me like the sweet girl you are.” It’s the combination of his words, his voice and his perfect hands that bring you over the edge.

“Yes, that’s it,” Aegon mutters encouraging, as he watches you. “You are so beautiful when you come undone like that.” He kisses you slowly. It’s only then you realise that he's still fully clothed while you lay naked underneath him.

You don't have time to complain. All of a sudden, he grabs hold of your body, manhandling you around so you now lay on your stomach. He pushes your head into the bed harder as he scoops a hand underneath your hips, lifting your bare ass into the air, exposing your drenched pussy to the cold air.

He lands a hard smack on your ass.

"If you hadn't been so stubborn, this could have happened much earlier" Aegon spoke in a hushed voice, hands trailing down your waist. You said nothing. Entirely too breathless to defend yourself. Aegon placed himself at your entrance and allowed you no time to adjust to the massive length of his before he slammed into you. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You gasped as he picked up his pace, fucking you with wild and reckless abandon.

"Come on, my sweet," he taunted, "tell me how much you hate me now."

Aegon slammed into you so deep it really felt like he might kill you after all. You felt yourself pulse around his cock, your pussy trying to somehow pull him in deeper.

"So. Fucking. Tight," he said through gritted teeth. His hands gripping your hips with such force you knew they would bruise. Part of you beamed internally at the idea of being marked up by your bonded. Heat exploded inside of you. Your eyes were momentarily blinded as you felt yourself reach your climax.

"Please, fill me, Aegon," you begged, head still shoved into the bed. Aegon groaned at your words, holding your hips tightly as he pulled you back up against him to fuck him. He picked up his speed, thrusts becoming messy and sloppy as he chased his own peak.

He thrusted in roughly a few more times before he finally stilled, pushing inside of you as far as he could. He stayed inside of you for a few moments more before slowly pulling out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. The loss of him being inside of you, causes you to whimper, feeling empty.

"That was truly a spectacular show," Visenya's voice sounded. Turning to your right, you beheld the sight of both the sisters standing there, a hint of amusement evident in their expressions. "I certainly hope you're not too tired for another round," Rhaenys quipped. The two women sauntered closer toward the bed where the two of you were situated. Crawling over the duvet toward you.

"Not that it truly matters if you are," Visenya smirked. Planting her mouth at your shoulder blade, she started sucking. Rhaenys copying her movement on your other one. You hummed in delight, completely unaware of the massacre that was befalling your people outside the tent, as your bonded made sure to keep your undivided attention on them.

They couldn't afford the possibility of your focus being split between them and the well-being of your people, especially when you were destined to belong to them. And with the bond now finally complete, you would never be able to leave. The strategy of isolating you without their presence played out flawlessly, leveraging the bond into compelling you to yield.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the conqueror #aegon the conqueror x reader #house targaryen #rhaenys the conqueror #rhaenys targaryen #rhaenys the conqueror x reader #visenya targaryen #aegon i targaryen #visenya targaryen x reader #visenya the conqueror #game of thrones #house of the dragon #got #hotd #hotd fanfic #got fanfiction #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #yandere #soulmates #soulmate au #house of the dragon x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #game of throne x reader #hotd smut #got smut #aegon targaryen smut #smut

[railingsofsorrow]

day-off

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: dad!spencer spends his day off with his daughter.

pairing: s.reid x reader (ft. eden reid)

w.c: 721

warnings/content: no warnings; father-daughter moments; fluff; tw!braids!! (solely because I suck at making them)

A/N: one standalone drabble for the eden reid collection (I think I'm gonna do a masterlist for that, we'll see)

want to read more works about this au?

→ recharging

navigation

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“What are you doing?”

Spencer's hands halted in the midst of folding a pink skirt. The corner of his lips wavering as his daughter buried her small feet on his socks, which promptly swallowed almost all of her body up.

“Do I look pretty, daddy?” Eden twirled around to show off her new style. He couldn't stop the laugh upon realising they were mismatched pairs.

Spencer crouched down to her height, ruffling her untamed curls which causing her nose to scrunch up cutely.

“You look absolutely dazzling, princess.” He voiced his fondness while scooping his little girl up in his arms and sitting down on the edge of the bed. The unfolded laundry forgotten behind them as Spencer grabbed his phone, something he only recently figured out worked for everything, including selfies. How could it be that a small device was able to provide so much functionalities? He still didn't know how to use half of them. But he could do selfies.

That didn't mean they'd be good.

“C'mon,” Spencer nudged her closer, not that Eden complained, she only snuggled closer, her cheeks squishing as both made faces for the camera that was in selfie mode, then Spencer shifted to their wriggling feet covered by mismatched socks.

TO YOU

[10:03a.m] What do you think?

[10:03a.m] Recording.mp4

Eden giggled after he showed her the sent video.

“Let's see if your mom approves our new look.”

Eden didn't warn him before throwing her whole body on him. With a groan, Spencer dramatically fell on the bed, earning another high-pitched childish laugh.

“Ah! I've been struck.” She kept throwing pillows at him as he expressed his surrender by covering his eyes with his forearms, making sure to always keep one eye open to check if she was too close to the edge of the bed. When one of her feet got tangled with the bedsheets, he pulled her up to the opposite side. “Hey, hey, what did I say about jumping on the bed?”

Eden flashed her innocent puppy eyes at him and suddenly Spencer was actually surrendering. “Don't do that.” He warned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The warning went on deaf ears for a while but it bought him enough time to fold the rest of the laundry as she made a mess on the bed.

His phone pinged, letting him know of a new message. A smile stretched across his lips as your name popped up on his screen.

TO SPENCER

[10:20a.m] Love this <3

[10:20a.m] Now I miss the two of you :(

TO YOU

[10:20a.m] Eden's is asking for you to come home.

TO SPENCER

[10:21a.m] Don't tempt me!!!

[10:22a.m] Love, is that the “folded laundry” behind you...?

TO YOU

[10:25a.m] ( Picture attached )

[10:25a.m] It's folded now :)

Spencer brushed his daughter's strands back softly, pondering the variety of ways he could style her hair for the day. Eden was munching on her sliced apples as her morning snacks, pretty distracted in her own world and watching a cartoon about a ladybug and superheroes. Spencer could never recall the name, he'd just watch it with her.

“I want braids.” Eden spoke, not taking her eyes off of the TV but still pretty aware of her surroundings. “Like mamma makes them.”

Spencer had to hold back a laugh because no, he thought, my braids will never be as remotely good as your mother's.

Letting out a sigh, he pulled a chair in front of the couch so she could sit down and he could work on her hair without interrupting her entertainment.

“Okay.” Spencer said, accepting his fate. He had faced a lot of things in his life, but none were in the shape of braided hair. They could defeat him easily and he had admitted that a long time ago even if you say that it's just practice and that you'll learn eventually. He hasn't learnt yet. But if that's what Eden wants, that's what Spencer would (try) to do.

He wasn't able to say no to his tiny human.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

[moralesluvr]

Could I request a hobie x reader with a morning routine?

morning routine with hobie brown <3

♡ pairings & aus: hobie brown x spider!fem!black!reader ♡ summary: morning routine with hobie!! ♡ warnings: none ♡ a/n: this idea was literally the cutest ever! tysm for requesting amor ♡ got a request? | masterlist in the works! ♡

"HOBIE, IT'S TIME TO GET UP." You called out to your boyfriend as you slid a pair of shorts on in front of your mirror, stepping into your white Spider-Man slippers. You heard Hobie groan into one of your pillows, "Mmgh, five more minutes, love?"

"No." You sighed, "Unfortunately, there are bad guys we have to defeat today, just like every other day-- you know this. I love you, but you gotta get up."

Your statement earns another groan from your lover, but you ignore it as you walk over to your bed, pulling the covers off of Hobie. A string of loud curses leave his lips as you toss the comforter onto the ground.

"You're so annoying," He mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You grabbed his hand and pulled firmly, "Get ready with me?"

Although he pretended otherwise, Hobie loved when you shared your morning routine with him. That definitely woke him up out of his former slumber as he rose up off the bed, following you into the bathroom so that you could start your morning.

You opened the drawer next to you as Hobie flicked the light on, hands taking home on your hips as he stood behind you. He rested his head atop yours as he sighed, "'M tired...think I'm jus' gonna let some people accept their fate today."

"Hobie!" You snap, pulling your matching headbands out of the drawer. You reach above you and hand Hobie his black one, "You can't just say that. We're super heroes and we have to do our job."

"I was only joking," Hobie scoffs, sliding his headband on.

"Handsome, can you tie my braids back?" You asked him sweetly. He nodded eagerly and grabbed a thick hair tie from the cabinet, taking your hair in his big palms and pulling it into a neat ponytail. You thanked him as he stepped beside you, grabbing his toothbrush. You copied his actions as you brushed your teeth, singing the ABCs in your head a couple times to make sure they were clean. You turned the water on and spat, and you nearly felt Hobie shiver.

"I know spitting is necessary in this moment," He starts, "But I have to admit, doll, it is disgusting."

You ignore his statement and roll your eyes, grabbing your face wash. You run your hands under the water for a couple seconds and squirt some into your hands, massaging it into your skin. Hobie follows suit, although he washes his face for what seems like about five seconds.

"Now you know good and well your skin is not clean." You said, eyes screwed shut in hopes to not get the soap in your eye.

Hobie shrugged at your statement as he moisturized his skin, taking the headband off and laying it back in the drawer where it belongs. You finished up your routine quickly, following your lover into the kitchen for quick coffee and breakfast.

"I'm feelin' peckish," Hobie remarks, opening the doors to your shared pantry to find something to eat. You scoff at his use of British slang.

"Peckish? Why not just say 'looking for a little snack' you nerd." You laugh, grabbing one of your mugs from the cupboard. You pop a Starbucks pod into the Keurig, letting your mug sit underneath as you venture back to your bedroom to grab some clothes and your suit.

You slip on a pair of black cargos and a teeny white crop, something that you can easily slip in and out of if need be. You hear footsteps approach the door, Hobie's half-clothed body leaning against the doorframe.

"Wanna match outfits today?" He suggests, taking a bite out of a bagel that's filled to the brim with cream cheese. You nod, "Sure, if you wanna wear somethin' like this, 'cause I don't feel like changing."

"Mkay," He remarks, pulling the first two items out of the drawer that resemble your outfit. He grabs a spiky belt and pulls it through the loops of his pants, the waistband of his Calvin Kleins showing. You take the hair tie out of your hair and stuff it in your pocket, grabbing your keys-- "Are you about ready to go, Hobs? Don' wanna be late."

"Yeah, comin'!" He yells, but you're already heading for the door by the time he's even halfway ready to go. You scoop your coffee up from the kitchen, opening the front door, "Yo, I'm leaving!" You sing song, stepping through the door.

"Y/N, you idiot, wait!"

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown drabble #hobie brown blurb #hobie brown fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderpunk #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie x black!reader #hobie x fem!reader #‧₊˚✩ — 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒!

[shadow-pixelle]

The snippet continues...

Part one is here, and part two is here.

I've actually had this bit done for a while now, and I've got another couple of scenes ready to go. Plus I've started figuring out how we got here and some of the other worldbuilding stuff, too.

Might need to actually give this AU a name sometime soon.

Until then, though, enjoy the next chunk of things!

--

Danny felt a little bad for how quickly he relaxed once Hood was out of sight. It wasn’t like it was the guy’s fault that his core was fucked up.

But still, the pressure of not giving in to all his instincts calling for him to take the kid and run had been… difficult. Especially considering the atmosphere of the room.

He hadn’t been wrong earlier that kidnapping was a bad idea, right now.

Sam and Tucker both relaxed as well, which made Danny feel a little better about his reaction, and took their hands from where they were grabbing him. It wouldn’t have helped if he’d decided to say fuck it and lunge, but the pressure of them holding onto him had helped him remember not to phase into intangibility and portal out.

The tension wasn’t much better, though.

Nightwing was frozen, reaching out towards where Hood had ran like he could somehow grab the guy’s shoulder and stop him from bolting. The others in the room- Red Robin, Robin, Batman- were just as still; the two Robins staring at Danny, Batman staring at nothing.

Batman.

There was a twinge in the air, in their bonds, from Sam. She wanted to strangle him, and honestly, Danny wasn’t too inclined to stop her right now. That was probably the Protection spirit talking, really, rather than any sort of logic, but hey, sue him. He was a halfa and his Obsession was just as there as any other ghost. That meant keeping people safe.

And that was before he got into any of the Ghost King shit.

He felt Tucker reach around Danny’s back and grasp Sam’s elbow, apparently sensing both her wish for murder and Danny’s general lack of care.

“I think we should go.” Tucker said, quickly but quietly, in Danny’s ear. He huffed a little, but nodded, transforming back into his ghost form with a flicker. It would be a good idea to let everyone cool down after that, plus it would get Sam away from her current plant food target.

The shift seemed to snap the Bats out of it, at least a little. Nightwing snapped over to look at them, and Red Robin made a small sound. “Go?”

“And let you… process.” Danny said, wrapping his tail around Sam’s waist. She huffed, a sharp and violent sound, but finally relaxed entirely into him rather than preparing to snap, which was good. “I understand that there was a lot of information there, that you likely want time to think through.”

Tucker leaned a little forward again, a small nudge, and Danny nodded, knowing what he wanted. It was easier to focus on their Grief bonds now, with Hood’s core not in the room and making it hard to think beyond instincts if they weren’t talking.

“We’ll make contact with you again in a few days, or you can contact us.” He added. It wouldn’t be hard, Tucker had been working on figuring out some kind of link to them since they arrived here, and being in their home base would’ve helped. “But for now I think it would be best if we left.”

“But-” Nightwing glanced in the direction Hood had ran again, then back to them. Sam softened, a little, at the display of care, the air crackling with it.

“We’ll keep an eye out for him, and discuss the situation with our people.” She told him. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way to help.”

“Thank you.” Nightwing said, voice cracking. Danny waited a moment, to see if any of them had anything else to say, then cloaked both his Griefmates in invisibility and intangibility in the same moment, moving to grab a more firm hold of Tucker and tightening his tail around Sam.

The Batman still wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t even moving, and Danny would’ve been more concerned if he’d had the room, but-

It had been a lot, and he was tired. More tired than he expected, just holding back the need to run away with Hood bundled between them.

And he still needed to call the Council, too, which was always going to be a nightmare.

A portal would have been too obvious, so Danny just flew straight up instead, pulling both his partners with him, and passed into the rock. From below them, there was a faint echo of something being thrown, and Nightwing’s voice shouting, “What the hell, B-?!” Danny winced a little and flew faster, all three of them keeping silent until they were well in the air- above the massive mansion above the Bat’s base, which was a wild thing even when they were used to the Mansons- and starting back towards the lights of the city.

“I’ll go and look for him.” Sam said, after a few minutes of flying. “I don’t- it’ll be hard, but I’ll be able to handle it.”

Danny would be the best to find Hood, with his ghost sense and the few powers the Crown granted him sometimes, but he was also the worst, because of his status as a halfa and Protection spirit. Tucker could probably do it just as well as Sam could, but his talents meant bunkering down with their computer setup and searching that way would be better than him looking in person.

So Danny just nodded. “Alright. Let’s go back to the apartment, first, and we’ll get one of the whistles out for you. I need to go to the Realms, so I won’t be able to make portals for you, but you can call Cujo to do it instead.”

“You think he’ll want to come to the Realms?”

Danny shrugged, a little. “Maybe. I think… he’s scared, probably. And I don’t think this place is safe for him.”

“The city or the dimension?”

“Not sure, yet. We’ll have to look into it more. But I don’t think it matters, whether it’s the city or the dimension. I don’t think this place is safe for him, and I think he might be scared. Admittedly he might be scared of us, which is bad, but I’m hoping he’ll let us try to help even if he is scared of us.”

“I’ll try to answer his questions, if he’s got any.” Sam frowned audibly, and both Danny and Tucker chuckled. They knew full well how difficult it was for Sam to tolerate people for any length of time, and explaining things was a nightmare for her if people didn’t listen, so hopefully Hood wouldn’t end up on the wrong end of her patience at all.

“Drop me off at the apartment too.” Tucker put in. “I’ll man the computers and see if I can find Hood anywhere on the cameras in the city.”

“Thanks, Tuck.” She smiled up at him. “I think I can guess where he went? But having some kind of eyes in the sky would be good.”

“You do?” Danny asked, looking down so he could raise an eyebrow at her. “How?”

“You know we thought there was a Haunt here?”

“Yeah, that Park Row place.” Danny nodded slowly, then paused. “Oh. You think that’s it?”

“I mean, it’d make sense, right? A ghost’s haunt always feels a little bit like them, and with Hood’s core as torn up as it is…”

Tucker nodded against Danny’s chest, humming. “Yeah, that would make sense. I didn’t think of that.”

“That’s what we’re for.”

“Ok, so Tucker back to the apartment, Sam to grab a whistle for Cujo and then out the door, and I’m off to the Realms.” Danny sighed a little. “Great. You guys get all the fun jobs. I get to enjoy fighting with the Council for like a week trying to make sure they don’t declare war or something while we’re still investigating. That’ll be just our luck.”

“Eh, I’m sure you can do it. They like you, after all.”

Danny just sighed again.

The rest of the trip back into the city and towards the apartment they’d rented wasn’t long or difficult, especially not when flying, and Danny easily phased through the window into the building proper. The second he let go of his Griefmates, they were off; Tucker went straight for the pile of tablets and PDAs and laptops that he’d built up, starting them up all at once with a push of power, while Sam went for the bedroom and their lockbox full of ghost stuff, coming back with a silver whistle that she tucked down the front of her dress so only the chain was showing.

“Want a lift?” He asked, and Sam laughed.

“No, I’ll be fine. Get moving, your Highness, you’ve got places to be.”

“Fiiiiiine.” Danny sighed again, flopping backwards dramatically just to see them laugh, and opened a portal to his Lair.

The feeling of being at home again settled over him like a weight, and he took a moment to shake himself out and settle into the feeling before starting to move.

Luckily, there were protocols and stuff for this kind of thing. And even more fortunately, Fright Knight was nearby and not roaming like he could have been. Danny barely got the doors open from his portal room into the main Lair before the Knight was there, hovering not far into the hall.

“Fright Knight.” Danny inclined his head, pulling at his core. The Ring and Crown formed with only a small amount of fuss- his living half causing them to complain, he knew- though he didn’t bother with any of the rest of the regalia he’d created in the past for situations like this. As strange as it sounded, this felt like something he had to approach more as Phantom, the Protection spirit and halfa, rather than the Ghost King, even though he knew he needed the Crown and Ring with him.

Instincts like that were strange, sometimes.

“Prince Phantom.” The Autumn spirit replied, saluting him. “Is something amiss?”

“We need to call the Council together, Fright.” He said, a small sigh. Him calling the Crown and Ring would have already started that process, with some of them, but not everyone was going to be in a position to notice that stuff, so it was better to tell Fright Knight so he could help get things going. “We’ve got a really bad situation in that world, and it’s going to need a lot of work.”

“How so, my Prince?” Fright Knight asked, even as his core flickered to call the various underghosts of the Lair to attention.

“The sort of thing where we might be declaring outright war on some people.” Danny told him, and watched the Fright Knight freeze.

“I see.”

#dcxdp #fic writing #my writing #random scenes from the abyss #danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #at some point this will get a name i swear #braided fates au

[crp-low-quality-content]

Creepypasta coquette au 🎀

🔪 | Jeff the killer

He wears a light pink sweatshirt with bows decorating the sleeves.

His knife has pink bows on the handle.

He doesn't get blood on himself, that's not delicate

"close your eyes, darling 🎀"

🦇 | Jane the killer

She still has a gothic vibe so it's dark coquette.

She has white bows decorating her curly hair, and wears a ruffled black dress with white bows and long white tights with mary JANE shoes and a pearl necklace.

her mask has light makeup and is scented with the scent of roses.

"don't close your eyes, darling 🎀"

🫀 | Eyeless jack

He has long braids decorated with bows, to hide his scars he wears light makeup and takes care of his appearance.

His medical kit is pink and he performs surgeries as delicately and precisely as possible, and he eats kidneys on a plate with a knife and fork without getting dirty.

He usually wears pink and white and his mask is always clean. (He also painted it pink.)

"harvesting organs is so coquette 🎀"

🎮 | Ben drowned

Don't like violent games, that's not coquette.

He always plays a female character and wears pink gear.

The clothes are delicate and in light tones, his hair is long and braided with bows holding it back.

"you have found a dreadfully charming fate 🎀"

🕑 | Clockwork

She wears a pink vintage clock on her eye.

She doesn't swear and is rude, that's not a lady's attitude.

She wears a pink coat with white fur, a white skirt with ruffles, black shoes with white delicate lace socks.

"your time has arrived, darling 🎀"

🪓 | Ticci toby

Wearing a white wool coat and jeans decorated with pink bows and pink sneakers, he takes a shower every day.

Their axes have pink ribbons decorating the handles.

He is very polite and if he says something bad with a tic, he will apologize.

"why bother socializing when I have voices in my head for company? 🎀"

🎀 | Nina the killer

She has some light pink streaks in her hair and a big bow decorating the back. Wears pearl necklace and bracelet, delicate white coat with decorative bows with a light pink shirt underneath, light pink skirt with ruffles, white leg warmers with black shoes.

She likes light and delicate makeup in pastel shades of pink, her nails are French style and are always trimmed and painted.

She doesn't chase Jeff, she prefers to use her charm to attract men.

"let me take you to the dreamland, my prince 🎀"

🌲 | Slenderman

He stalks people and turns them into his coquette proxies.

Instead of a suit he wears a white blouse with a black vest with pink bows and tie.

When a person is infected by it, that person starts to feel the desire to take care of themselves and act in a more polite and delicate way, gaining a taste for pink things, bows and pearls.

"Humans must learn to be more coquette 🎀"

#creepypasta #creepypasta au #au #eyeless jack #jeff the killer #ticci toby #nina the killer #jane the killer #clockwork #slenderman #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcannons #coquette #jeff the killer x reader #ticci toby x reader

[blueparadis]

╰┈➤ MASTERMIND ✦ NANAMI KENTO.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ Nanami decides to pay you a visit on such an auspicious day to congratulate you but fate had other plans for him.

+

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader x (morally grey but ultra-soft)!nanami kento, canon+ fix it au, manga spoilers, mention of clan head!gojo, secret relationship b/w reader and nanami, mutual pinning, angst, scar worship, friends with benefits dynamic, s&d dynamic, mention of orgasm denial, orgasm control, love-hate séx (make-up séx ig) + unprotected, baby trapping. 2,6 k word count. half-based on this thought ( + I've a lot of hcs about gojo clan; one of them being that satoru had a half-sister whom he found accidentally while on a mission, so i used that here. ) | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |

Nanami walks through the porch of the Gojo estate while taking a call. It has been half a month since the grim reaper graced him with a peck on his cheek showing him a glimpse of the afterlife. He has been facing trouble adjusting back to his old life again despite healing himself through the reverse cursed technique. He has left behind the life of being a jujutsu socerer but partly. Besides, he now works as an advisor for all jujutsu socerers who are gradually making their way to earn their ranks yet deep down, a part of him wants to tell how bold farced lie is all this is.

But something is still holding him back, and deep down he is vividly aware that he wants to grow his roots rather than uproot them. He is just unwilling to admit it out loud. Nanami is still unable to untie his attachment towards a certain girl who is also best suited to be the head of the gojo clan, as per the strongest’s opinion, y/n gojo. He still remembers the night he spent in that cheap motel with you, talking and drinking, drinking and touching, touching and kissing; making promises to you while being inside you. He does not regret it per se, he is afraid for those wishes to come true. There is too much at stake.

When he got the invitation to the ceremonial celebration for you being bestowed with the title and authority to act as a clan head by Satoru’s side he did not know why he could not refuse or not bother to turn up. Maybe he needed an excuse to apologize at length for not being in touch with you. Maybe you would not be so angry if you knew death was knocking at his door but he had to come back, he had to make it through the tunnel to see you, to embrace, to kiss you, for one last night time.

With such thoughts clouding his mind, the sound of sliding a door almost did not reach his ears yet strangely, he turns back only to find none other than you. Standing five feet away from you, in his Yukata he looks more handsome than before, especially with those scars on his face. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll call you back.” With each fall of his words, his eyes move from head to toe. You are still not ready for the ceremony yet. Wearing a plain hakama, hair braided, a few loose strands kissing your jawline, and a mole near the corner of your lip that just unlocked the memories of that night.

“Nanami-san. . .” you murmur and bite your trembling lips. Tears threaten to flood your cheeks as you take a few steps towards him. He immediately backs away averting his gaze. But you can see him, his guilt, his silent sea of sadness. Nanami Kento is now nothing but a tapestry of quiet despair. A tug on one loose end of a thread and it will all come crashing down.

“Hey...” he states as soon as he realizes the gravity of his action but it is too late now. You have already turned around, started to stroll inside the room, and prepared to slide the door. Clicking his tongue he follows you but does not enter just stands on the other side of the wooden bar separating your room and the porch. His shadow is covering your whole body. He can only see your back, so he does not look up, just stills his eyes on the ground. “Congratulations on your succession —” His voice trails off as your haori drops on the floor.

“What’re you doing?” He raises his voice perking his eyes up at you. You turn your head slightly in his way and he notices bruises around your neck. Suddenly he can feel every bead of perspiration running down his spine. Have you been fucking other men while he was away? He has been wrecking his mind day and night thinking about how to let you down lightly, how to end this relationship without hurting you, what to say, and what not to say so that you can just move on with your life but meanwhile, but you have been seeing other men. How vile! How insulting!

“Why are you still here, Nanami-san?” You turn around without averting your eyes from him.

Nanami enters the room without a second thought closing it behind. “Is it what I think it is ?” He enquires curtly.

“I don't know. You tell me,” You murmur pulling up the sleeves of your nagagi, “what you are thinking. . .” There are certain wounds all the way up your neck in a particular pattern as if someone carved them on you. He does not budge. His brain cells do not finish the path of such thoughts.

Watching his contorted face you let out a disappointed sigh,“Yes. The answer is yes. I went through the ritual.” Nanami swallows, his eyes unable to avert from your body. He wants to see those marks, see each scar, and kiss them. That would be very unethical, wouldn’t it? “If tooru-ni would have been here he wouldn’t have let me go through it.” You walk away towards the window finishing that line of thought, “But I can’t always rely on him. Can I now?” 

Okay, that’s good. You have made half of his confusion clear. What about the bruise on your neck? With long strides, he closes the gap between you two. His strong muscular toned arms curled around your waist before his lips aligned with yours. “have you been seeing other men?” He rasps against your mouth. Your hand rests on his firm chest. It is possible actually, since you are going to be appointed as a supportive clan head, marriage proposals are going to lurk like wild animals amongst the shadows of celebration, especially Zenin Clan. They do not let any cursed energy bearer getaway.

“Why? Would that make you jealous?”

“Yes. definitely.” You can not help but ket out a short-lived simper that not only makes Nanami’s throat dry but also fills his bones with your pesky ignorant attitude. It makes him wanna loathe you. He lifts you a little yanking you by the window side, caging you between the wall and him. He has not let go of his hand from your waist and his other hand rests on the concrete. You look at him with eyes full of longing and lust. You know this is wrong, this whole thing of meeting him here, seeing him before the ceremony. It is wrong in so many ways. Your fisted hands unfurl. You could feel his heart rate being faster now. 

“Can’t we just run away?” you murmur so low and so meek that Nanami thinks he might just hear it wrong. Suppose he did run away with you. What then? People from the Gojo clan is going to hunt him until the end of time. He always has to run away and hide, like a coward.

“That wouldn’t be appropriate,” 

Another chuckle. “Yeah? Then, what’s appropriate? Are you telling me this isn’t inappropriate? you and me, locked in a room, so close to each other. anyone might think we are— 

“Then, let’s make their suspicion into something real,” He breathes against your mouth. There is just a thread of gap between his lip and yours before he opens his mouth with a ‘pop’ and you feel his warm, wet tongue along the column of your throat that makes you shut your eyes instantly, tears rolling down along your cheeks for holding back for so long, for waiting for him so long. Your arms slide along his shoulders slowly as he explores your neck and chest with his mouth making you almost melt in his arms. 

“No. No. No. No. we can’t be doing this again,” He moves away from you shaking his head so much, his breathing labored and irregular. There is that look in your eyes, that sad look of having to fight all alone with no one by your side, that look that has so much sincerity and loyalty underneath. 

“But Nanami-san, I’m not seeing anyone.” You mutter inhaling deeply feeling dizzy. Oh dear! Aren’t you a little too naive to be a clan head? Maybe there is no way out, day in and day out he thought about it but he could not find any. “what happened when you said you would take me to Malaysia?”

"You know we can't do that, baby." He shifts his gaze at you, rasping, "And, you know we were both just drunk and talking about what ifs...does that count? should it count?" You bite your lips looking at the robes scattered on the floor, him and yours, lifeless and entangled with each other. Nanami feels his heart constrict in his ribcage, as if someone had tied his heart with ropes and now both the free ends are being pulled like in a tug of war.

“Ahhh,” he groans. “Fuck it,”  with that he holds your face in between his big soft palms kissing your lips as long as he can. Your fingers clamp around his wrists as you feel his tongue go inside your mouth before he sucks your lips, one by one, fervently, as if you are the source of his oxygen, not the air surrounding you two. He guides your limbs around his nape breaking the kiss to breathe in before kissing down the column of your throat. 

“Take it off,” His husky whisper hot against your chest as he waits.

“But—” you try to protest making him more impatient. It is not like he does not get your point. You will have to go soon otherwise people might come searching for you. These fucking clan rules. Without any delay you let the upper wrapper cloth of your yukata fall down revealing your breasts. 

“You know, you shouldn’t be roaming around like this,” He tartly says before licking up from the base of your chest to the middle of your collarbone.

“Oh Yeah? was waiting… for you,” Nanami’s hand finds your mounds, firm and large hands massaging both of them simultaneously as he presses his hard-on against your waist. His hands now rest on your hips pulling you into his body, while his mouth peppers kisses all over your bosom. Your nipples are so taut, skin awake with goosebumps. His hands travel around your back pulling you into his embrace. Your breath hitches as his grips grow stronger while his mouth latches onto your boobs, sucking your tits and biting them making you moan shamelessly. 

Your constant tugging and fidgeting with the sash of his hakama has now paid off. It hits the grown revealing him in boxers. You take his cock out pumping, sliding the foreskin, and exposing the slick crown of his cock. Nanami grunts, taking his cock and pumping it by himself. “Look at me, look at me, baby”, he murmured while rubbing his nose against your neck, your skin glistening with sweat. He clusters your hakama around your waist and your hands hold them in place, around your stomach. He smiles at that gesture. He is impressed. 

Lifting you up by clasping around your inner things, he holds your back against the wall ready to push his cock inside you. You guide his cock at your slick entrance. As soon as the cock-head is inside he quickly scans your features. You are panting, sweating, mouth open, and eager to take him. He pushes his cock inside you with a deep strong thrust hitting your spot. His grip on your thighs becomes stronger as he starts to glide his torso, to and fro. Eyes flying back ripping off your sanity as he pushes his cock inside you as if he was not hitting the spot making you squirm underneath him.

The bridge of his nose grazes your pulse point as he groans right into your ears asking, "You good?". You stare at him through the corner of your eyes, mouth open ajar, panting rashly too sucked into delirium to form words, but you nod. Kento knows your melting point yet seeing you taking him so well, being so obedient, being so responsive his lips curve in delight. He hums weighing his thoughts about whether it is okay to pull out another orgasm from your heated overstimulated body or not since he has been fucking you nice and slow for what seems like hours. Every time you are close he diverts your attention by pausing and then putting his mouth to work, either on your lips or on your nipples.

His warm cackle reaches your ears as he jerks up towering over your body, fingers clamping underneath your inner thighs. "Oh Gawd!", you whimper earning a smirk from him. "Don't worry angel! I'm not gonna stop until you ask me to!", he declares as he thrusts his cock with a single broad stroke earning a gasp from you. Those chocolate brown eyes gleam in an insatiable hunger as he starts to move in and out, slowly, watching your cream leaking around his cock from previously denied orgasms.

"You're still clenching me so hard baby!", he utters with a chuckle slamming his cock inside you with brute force followed by a long pause and making you arch your body like a bow against the wall. It is euphoric. It is aching. It is maddening.

"So good! such sweet pussy.", he groans as he starts to thrust harder, faster folding your legs over his broad shoulders. You grab your boobs, squeezing, biting your lower lip, filling the room with trails of whimpering moans blessing his ears. With his throbbing cock still inside you he yanks you into his lap, lips never disconnecting from yours he takes you to the futon laying you down. The hakama is clustered around your waist covering your pussy but it is better this way. At least, you are not so coy-like that night.

Kento quivers, balancing himself on his arms against the futon and letting you relax your legs. "Fuck wanna cum in you already", he coos immediately crashing his lips onto yours not giving you a chance to register his momentary lapse, a desire to see you carrying his babies. Moreover, he loves the taste of your salt while sucking your puffy lips inside you. Curling your hands around his nape, fingers skimming through his hair you moan into his mouth breaking the kiss. 

His eyes blink as he feels your hands over his arms. While he is still feasting his eyes over your ravishing sex glow, you roll him along the futon without pulling out. Eyes soaked in surprise Kento is still taken aback by your strength as he gawks at your naked beauty with lust-blown eyes. “Your wish's my command, Sir”, you amend. As the words fall from your lips you start to glide, slow but steady strokes. He holds you by your waist, his lower lip being exploited in between his teeth as you bounce on his cock.

Seeing you bob like an animal, boobs bouncing at a steady rhythm he was in nowhere to decline you; after all, he wanted this too, to fill your womb with babies and those breasts with milk.“Oh yeah! Yea-ash baby!”, he mumbles as you keep jerking. He is close, you can sense it. He flinches feeling his cock twitch in pain but could not care less about it. All he wants is to fill you up to the brim. He sits up adjusting you in his lap.

“Say you hate me.” he huskily mutters.

“What?” you do not pause, just slow down.

“Say you hate me” he quips holding your waist and making you pause your movements. “Or I won’t let you cum,” When you do not believe him he quips with a smirk, “You know, I can do that, don’t you baby?” and strangely you remember how he felt you alone in the room when you made a move on him. You do not want that to happen now, absolutely not, especially with his dick inside you.

He starts to make you bob again, at this point so close to your orgasm that you do not even put up a fight. “Yes. yes. I hate you. I hate you nanami kento I hate you,” you whimper out those words as he thrusts you on his cock. Good, good, that is good; he can not have you admit those feelings out loud, just like him. Your legs quiver feeling the euphoric high approaching, marking his back with crescent indecent as he shoots his cum inside you. Warm, thick, and seeping along your thighs, soaking the sheets. He pulls out with a pop; a prideful glint smothers his face watching his marks all over your chest that run up to your pulse point on the neck. Kento shoots a look at you, your face. He maintains eye contact, puts his mouth around your nipple, and continues to suck until he feels your gummy walls clenching his cock again. “Ahhh—aH!”, you scream hands resting on his shoulders nails digging into his skin. He hates you, he hates you so very much.

Nanami hunches down a little more, kissing your temples, and before sitting upright again he whispers, “Yeah, let’s go to Malaysia. Let’s just run away, honey.”

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[selfishdoll]

❛anything for you...❜ ━━ ft. nanami kento | resident evil inspired au.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 SUMMARY. ━━ you, the precious daughter of an important scientist are rescued by the gentlemanly government agent, nanami kento. you’re a mission, nothing more.. right? (word count: 5248)

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING. ━━ messy plot i’m so sorry | reader is 22 & nanami is like 24 | resident evil ish | mentions of dead bodies & blood | angst if you squint | ooc! nanami (he’s still gentleman like he’s just stern cause reader is hardheaded asf) | pet names | oral sex (f. receiving) | multiple orgasms | etc. if i forgot something let me know.

⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 NOTE. ━━ this got much longer then i wanted it to, so the smut is towards the end— i’m sorry !! also excuses typos & grammar mistakes please.

“Nanami…. Nanami, my legs hurt.” The words crawled from your mouth in a long, annoying drawl— dragging behind the man that still walked tall and strong ahead of you. The two of you had seemed to walk for hours, clothes stained in disgusting substances that came from the bloodthirsty freaks that rushed towards you the second you entered their milky sights. You were tired, hungry, and felt disgusting. Your favorite flare jeans and pink top were ruined and you were sure the short, bohemian braids you had were caked with grime.

“My legs hurt!” You called again after the man’s silence, watching his shoulders fall in a sigh.

“Just a few more miles, we need to find somewhere to rest.”

You pouted, bringing your arms close. You definitely weren’t suited for this, this whole; staying alive while running away from the undead thing. You were fully prepared to drink yourself to death back at your hotel room, but unfortunately; fate had different plans.

You had to admit, it was courageous the way Nanami Kento burst into your room, shutting and securing the door behind him. With one glance to you he was mumbling something into the receiver situated in his ear, walking over and kneeling before you. In your drunken state he was carefully touching you, searching for injuries and asking if you felt okay. If you could stand, he was doting for a government agent.

After that you were stuck with him, or was he stuck with you? Either way, your father — the scientist that refused to replicate a cure unless his dear daughter was rescued — gave you explicit instructions to stay at his side at all, times. Doesn’t matter if you had to piss, shit, or change— you were to stay in his sight no matter what.

Overall, you would give your Osaka trip a solid two out of ten.

You groaned a bit as your face came in contact with his strong back, hurriedly placing a hand over your aching nose. “What’s wr—“ You moved around to see infront of your path, only for your heart to drop. There were three undead walking aimlessly between the wrecked cars, bumping into them on account of their lost senses. The smell was disgusting, let alone the way blood trickled from their mouths and other body parts. The way a human body still stood despite several bullet wounds in its chest was.. disturbing to you.

Your fingers came to clutch Nanami’s shirt, the man reaching an arm back as if to cover you. Whilst the other was placed on his hip, right where his pistol remained. “They haven’t seen us.. yet.” The man murmured, wary of being heard. His eyes peered around, searching for a way or some path— you quickly doing the same, fingers still crumbling his stained dress shirt.

Finally his body turned, glancing at you. “We’ll have to go around that building..”

“What? Nanami you have a gun! Just aim right—“

“I rather not risk alerting more infected nearby.” He spoke, watching you carefully. You sucked your teeth, arms crossed but nodding. That did make sense, you have to admit. No wonder you were the mission and he was the agent.

Nanami straightened his body, reaching for your wrist gently. “Come on.” He spoke, leading you slowly. With each step his and your eyes were darting in front of you and back to the three infected still walking around aimlessly. You flinched a little as your foot pressed against something far too squishy, far too wet— your hand pressing against your mouth to cover your small disgusted squeal.

A squeeze to your wrist quickly diverted your attention, spotting Nanami turned to you with a serious expression. “Focus on me, (Y/N).. It’s alright.” You slowly nodded at his words, coming even closer to his form as you continued towards and soon around the building.

Luckily there wasn’t any infected nearby, Nanami releasing your wrist once the danger was gone. Despite this the man was still wary, looking around every so often to assure nothing was sneaking up on you. You kept your arms wrapped tight around yourself, copying Nanami’s movements.

Though, your head began to hurt a little from the constant back and forth.

You turned forward, lips pressed together before speeding up to walk beside him. “So.. did you ever imagine this would happen? You know.. some type of apocalypse?”

Nanami glanced at you for a moment before his gaze moved forward, a soft breath escaping him. “No.” He spoke simply, continuing his powerful strides that you struggled to keep up with. You nodded slowly, glancing down for a split moment whilst simply caressing your skin.

“Ever thought you’d have to save a scientist’s drunk daughter?”

Despite how little it was, a breath of amusement escaped the man, shaking his head. “No.” He answered again. You gave a weak smile, arms falling to your sides shortly after.

“Do you.. regret saving me?”

No more words were spoken for a few moments, the only sound being your shoes pressing into the Earth below. You took this badly, heart beating hard against your chest as your teeth tugged onto your bottom lip. You’ve always spoke too much for your own good, a trait you’ve hated since it developed. Fingers twitched nervously, eyes dancing about the ground as if suddenly interested in the blood stained pavement.

Your eyes peeled away, however— the moment you heard Nanami release a breath.

“No.. and it’s not because I was assigned to rescue you.”

His words caused confusion to bloom within you, head tilting to glance at his expressionless face. You didn’t know this man, his goals or what he did before he came to save you. For all you know he could be lying.. possibly falsifying your father’s voice or something crazy. Anything for some cash. Yet his words, you could tell the man was genuine; simply from his tone and posture, he meant it.

“Why?.. You have no obligation to me.” A cynical chuckle escaped you, glancing down at your feet once more. “I doubt anyone would give you any grief if you left me on the side of the road.”

You flinched as his footsteps came to a sharp halt, body turning to face you. His gaze settled onto your features, a hardened stare that caused you to look away once it became too much. Finally, Nanami spoke; “If you’re looking for me to call you useless or a mistake, I will not. You are neither of those and thinking of yourself as such is counterproductive.” Nanami stepped closer, causing your breath to hitch and eyes to widen. “We will continue down this path, together— until I bring your father his daughter back in one piece.” His eyes softened for a split second, head tilted to the side as he took you in. “Okay?”

You slowly nodded, gulping thickly the moment his eyebrows rose. “Okay.” You murmured, watching him nod back and turn forward once more. Your shoulders fell, hand pressed against your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat. For the first time in days, a little genuine smile lifted your lips.

You two continued to walk for what it seemed like hours, taking short breaks between buildings; you seated on some random trash can or barrel whilst he stood against the wall— glancing to assure nothing popped out.

As the sunset the two of you ended up in a neighborhood, your eyes focusing on the houses; a small grimace taking over your features. The crashed cars, the bloody bikes.. it was all too much. You could just imagine the way families rushed to get away, only to not make it farther then their doorstep.

You quickly shook your head, deciding such thoughts will only depress you further. And whilst attempting to pull those thoughts from your mind, a single raindrop fell onto your skull.

Your head turned to the sky, watching as the clouds darkened and more rain began to fall. You groaned softly, hand rising as if to cover the pouring water. Which of course, proved useless.

“Nanami,” You called, catching up to place a hand to his back. “We have to find somewhere to stay, this rain will make it harder to see.” You heard a soft grunt above the rain, watching his wet head turn back and forth in search of secure shelter. Your tongue clicked however, annoyed by how long the search was taking.

You looked around, soon lifting your hand towards a small white house that looked untouched. “There!” You huffed, legs moving before the man could reply. You made your way over, Nanami on your heels; sighing once you made it on the porch, covered by the rain. When you went for the doorknob, Nanami’s hand covered your own— causing your eyes to snap over to his face.

“Don’t run off like that again.” He spoke, glancing down at you seriously. You slowly nodded, hand loosening from the doorknob as the man came to stand in front of you. With a deep breath he turned it, pleasantly surprised it was unlocked.

And another reason Nanami wished to go first.

Lifting his flashlight, the man shined it inside the house; scanning the area for any sign of danger. Despite how untouched it looked from outside, it was certainly different in the actual house. Dried blood was caked on the hard wood floors, decorative carpet upturned and a mess whilst the couches were angled oddly. A struggle had clearly happened.

You clung to Nanami as you passed through the threshold, the man closing and locking the door behind you. He breathed a bit, turning to you whilst passing you the flashlight. “The living room looks secure, but I’ll check the back rooms.”

“What, alone!?” You hissed softly, reaching for him the moment he turned to leave. “We have to stick together.”

Nanami carefully grabbed the hand holding him, lifting it away as he looked at you gently. “It’ll be quick, I promise. Just sit on the couch and scream if you need me.” He coaxed you slowly towards said furniture, watching you sink into the surprisingly soft cushion. Noting your discouraged expression the man gave a gentle smile, hand rising to squeezes your shoulder. “It’ll be alright (Y/N).”

You nodded slowly, watching as he grasped a much smaller flashlight from his pocket, heading towards the back of the house. You turned forward, standing from the couch and walking towards the fireplace against the wall. The bright light shined on the framed pictures, pretty decor, and knick knacks lining the top of it. Your eyes focused on the little family portrait, sighing softly. You imagined they got out, all of them; and they were somewhere safe, together.

But, of course, that was wishful thinking. There was no way they survived.

Your hands curled around the frame, pushing it facedown. You moved on towards the dining room, gaze zoning in the candles settled in the middle of the red decorative cover. You picked one up, hurriedly looking around and smiling the moment you found a lighter. Placing the flashlight on the table, you picked the last three candles and lighter, heading back to the couch.

You placed the candles onto the coffee table while sitting down, lighting them one by one. They weren’t too bright but it was enough, definitely better then the flashlight.

Once you heard heavy footsteps heading in your direction you turned, smiling up at the man who approached the couch. Your eyes zoned in at the pile of sheets and blankets, the man placing it on the cushion beside you. Once done he hooked a finger behind him,

“The first bathroom’s water is working. You could probably wash up.”

A shower! The way your eyes sparkled you would have thought he said a helicopter was coming to grab the two of you. But no, this was much better. The thought of ridding yourself of three day grime and smell was enough to nearly bring tears to your eyes. You didn’t care if you had to pull dirty clothes the following morning, you just wanted to feel a little clean.

You hopped to your feet, following the man once he turned to the back of the house. Approaching the bathroom, you pushed the door opened, sighing heavily and glancing around. There wasn’t much, a simple half opened bottle of body wash and a towel. But, it was enough.

“I’ll make some food for when you come out. Don’t take too long.”

“Okay!”

Despite his words you spent a good thirty minutes under the water. You didn’t even care if it was cold, it just felt so good washing it all away. The dirt, the smell, and much more. You nearly shed a tear, given this was the only peace you’ve felt in days. After scrubbing your body and rinsing for about the fourth time, you shut the water off, exiting the tub and wrapping the towel right around your body. You grabbed your pile of clothes, heading out of the bathroom and towards the living room.

Nanami turned the moment he heard your footsteps, eyes quickly falling to the ground when he noticed your state. “Your food.. it’s, right here.” He spoke, hearing you walk around — dropping your dirty clothes in a corner along the way — sitting on the cushion beside him.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t much, a simple plate of rice, beans, and unidentifiable meat. But, you were grateful. You grabbed the plate, scooping some in your spoon and taking a bite. It wasn’t that good, the rice a little undercooked and meat having little flavor. But again, you were grateful.

Nanami watched as you ate, coaxing you to slow down so you didn’t choke; a little smile tugging his lips when you didn’t listen, resulting in a few coughs to escape you. He grabbed a water bottle near by, passing it to you so you could take a few sips. During this the man stood, wiping his pants.

“I’ll go take a shower now, you should try to get some sleep. Also— I think the couch pulls out.”

You gave a small okay, watching as he walked around the couch towards the bathroom. You placed your water bottle down, leaning against the couch and gliding your hand across your towel covered stomach. A small sigh escaped you, lips curled. For once, you could actually get some nice sleep.

No leaning against dirty walls, the rain drowned out whatever groaning infected were nearby, and you were sure the couch would be nice and plush.

Rising from your seat, you pushed the coffee table closer to the fire place, turning to grab the cushions and toss them away from you. Your eyes zoned in at the bar, pulling it— turning the couch into a pullout with some effort. “Finally.” You breathed, walking over to the pile put to the side, grabbing a sheet and flinging it over the bed.

Once satisfied you grabbed a blanket, — leaving a sheet for Nanami — placing it on the bed. You glanced down at your attire for a moment before a small screw it, went through your mind; pulling your towel off and letting it bundle on the floor. Crawling onto the bed, you pulled the blanket over your body.

Using your arms as a makeshift pillow, you sighed a bit, eyes closing and sinking into the mattress. Maybe you could convince Nanami to stay for another day. You could probably find a vehicle amongst the many houses. More supplies? These thoughts lulled you to sleep, exhaustion covering your body as darkness took over your vision.

You don’t know what time it was when you woke up, or why you woke up exactly. You planned to sleep the entire night but your body unfortunately had different plans. Tugging your blanket closer to your body, you turned; spotting the candles still lit, wax collecting on the coffee table. Your gaze carried, jumping a little when you spot Nanami rested in the loveseat, chest uncovered with a sheet tied loosely around his waist.

That wasn’t the problem, his dark eyes boring into your own was.

“Have you been awake this whole time?”

Nanami seemed to snap out of his trance, adjusting in the seat as he nodded slowly. You pursed your lips a bit, sitting up whilst pressing the blanket against your chest. “You could have joined me here. I doubt the seat is comfortable.”

“That would be.. inappropriate.”

“How so?”

Nanami shook his head, glancing away from you as he again— adjusted himself in that damned seat. You bit the inside of your cheek, landing back against the bed with a huff. “There’s no way you can effectively protect me without sleep, Nanami. You’ll be dragging like those walking corpses outside.”

Your words lingered in the air for a moment, a silence covering the room before you heard a deep sigh escape the man. He lifted his body from the chair, waltzing over to you. You smiled a bit, scooting away to give him some room, feeling the mattress sink in beside you as he laid down.

You turned to face him, fingers clutching your blanket as you took in his form. You didn’t want to admit was a delightful sight, the man sculpted nicely; clearly a disciplined individual. Your gaze lowered, shamelessly tracing his v-line peeking out from under the thin sheets. Luckily his eyes were closed, or else you would be embarrassed.

“I can’t sleep with you staring at me, (Y/N).”

You flinched, watching his eyes blink open and stare at you. “Sorry.” You murmured, gripping the blanket a little more. A silence passed between the two of you, simply laying there and glancing at each other.

You finally broke the silence, “You know.. this is kind of romantic.” You watched him lift a thin eyebrow, feeling your chest pound and cheeks warm. “The candles, the laying together..”

Nanami sucked in a breath, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Yes, and the undead walking outside adds a nice touch.”

“Exactly!” You spoke, a soft giggle escaping you shortly after. You leaned your cheek against the back of your hand, smiling sweetly at the man. The warmth in your face traveled to your stomach as he continued to stare at you, discreetly stealing gazes to your covered form. “I think.. if we met on different circumstances, I would have loved to go on an actual date with you.”

The man blinked in surprise, eyes widening just a bit. You wondered if you made him uncomfortable, given he stiffened and quickly glanced away from you. You opened your mouth to apologize, only for the man to cut you off;

“I would have loved to take you out on one.”

You felt the warmth within you grow hotter, teeth pressing down against your bottom lip. Your eyes fell to his arm, reaching over; gasping as the man rose to grasp your hand. The distant between you shortened as Nanami drew closer, your body sweltering at this point.

“Nanami..”

“Kento.. call me Kento.” He breathed, leaning to plant his lips against yours in an experimental kiss. The moment you didn’t pull away he was all in, hand releasing your wrist to instead glide up your exposed arm to the back of your neck, collecting it and tilting you how he liked. Your hand clung to his arm, breathing softly as the kiss deepened.

You found yourself turning onto your back, the man hovering above you, large frame covering you. The kiss continued, you gasping softly the moment his tongue entered your mouth; delicately playing and sucking at your own wet muscle. Your hips rose, feeling him through the thin sheet still wrapped loosely around his waist. The man groaned in response to this, hand sliding around to gently hold your throat.

Pulling away, Kento glanced down at you, forehead pressed against you. “I shouldn’t..” Turmoil warped the man, struggling. He wanted nothing more to kiss you again, to make you feel better then you have in the past few days. And yet, he knew this was wrong. You were his mission, someone he had to protect, nothing more. Growing attached.. wanting more, would prove disastrous.

But, even as the reasonable thoughts entered his mind, they faded the moment he looked at you. Your lips pressed together, eyes shining up at him, waiting ever so patiently for his next more. Your warm hands were placed on his arms, gripping them as if afraid to let go. Nanami struggled, he did— feeling himself ready to lift away from you.

Unfortunately, a soft, sweet “Kento” escaped your plump lips, rendering the logical side of his brain useless. Without thinking he was leaning down again, planting his lips against yours harsher then before. The action caused a soft moan to escape your throat, nails digging into his skin whilst bliss covered your body.

Lips moving, hands moving; his fingers curling on the edge of your blanket, slowly tugging it down your form to reveal your naked body to him. Kento pulled back, a glossy string connecting your lips together as his eyes cascaded down your form.

Your face flushed, reaching to grab his cheek. “Don’t stare so much..” You murmured, gasping as his hand ghosted down your body, fingers sinking into your hip.

“Why not? Every inch of you deserves to be appreciated.” The man breathed, leaning back on his hunches, hands faltering to your thighs and spreading them to wrap around his waist. “You’re beautiful.. I thought so the moment I saw you in that hotel room.”

You shook your head with a small smile, glancing up at him. “When I was drunk and obnoxious?”

Nanami smiled at you, hand squeezing the inside of your thigh. “Yes.” He confirmed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your collarbone. The feathery affection trailed down your heated skin, arousing soft breaths and gasps to escape you. Kento’s lips found your right nipple, sucking gently, pushing closer when you jumped.

The pleasure trickled down between your thighs, his hand grasping your absent breast. His thumb pressed against your hardened nipple, tweaking it between his fingers all while continuing to suck and tongue the other. Your hips rose in search of friction, which Nanami rewarded, pressing a thigh between your legs for you to grind on.

Your eyes pinched close, melting into the bed as your hands gripped at his hair. As good as that felt you wanted, needed more. You ground against his thigh, fingers slipping through his previously washed hair. “Kento, please..”

He pulled away from your chest with a soft pop, all while his fingers continued to move on the other. “Use your words, princess. What do you want?”

“More please— fuck..” You hissed softly as his thigh pressed right up against your center, gripping him even closer. “Wanna feel you, Ken. I need you so bad.” You whimpered, glancing up at the man.

Kento swore softly, taking in your beautiful expression. You were so open, laid out for him perfectly and begging for him. Such an image got him hard, tip leaking with excitement. He released your chest, dragging his kisses lower and lower until he met your mound.

Despite how eager he was to give you what you craved, he refused to leave you unprepared. The thought of hurting you outweighed his lust greatly.

So, the man used two thick fingers to spread you open, tongue gliding across your little bud. The action caused a gasp to fall from your lips, thighs threatening to close as he continued the pleasurable treatment, rubbing and sucking your clit raw. Your hands gripped at his hair tightly, rising your hips to push your pussy into his face more, shamelessly moving your hips.

Nanami enjoyed it all, hands falling to your ass to grip, face flush against your heat. His tongue lapped up your arousal, dragging his tongue in places that made you see stars. The moment you felt two fingers prodding at your wet entrance however, you were lost; crying out as the thick digits sunk into you.

He curled them, pushing up against your velvety walls and hitting a sweet spot that made stars collect in your eyes. Desperately, your hips shook, moans rising in pitch as you felt your stomach clench from the pleasure. “Kento.. ah—“ You cried out, feeling his lips wrap around your hard clit and suck, harshly.

Little tears threatened to spill over, legs closing around his head as a string of moans escaped you. Moments passed before you came, clamping down on his fingers and painting his face with your mess. Nanami’s fingers continued to move through your high, wrist flexing with each push and pull inside your sweet cunt.

Your legs shook, back arching as a soft overstimulated cry escaped you. “Mm— I can’t..”

Nanami pulled away from your clit, thumb quickly replacing his lips. His fingers scissored inside you, stretching and prepping you carefully. “I know you can, almost there pretty..” The man mused, pace quickening, ignoring your smaller fingers clinging to his wrist. The soft squelches of your wet cunt would have embarrassed you if you didn’t feel so good, head pressed against the bed as melodic moans escaped you.

A few more thrusts of his fingers passed before you came again, tainting his digits in your mess. Only this time he removed them, hand rising to lick off his arousal as if your taste was a delicacy. To him, it was, having half a mind to dive back between your legs for more.

Instead, Nanami hovered above your body, forearm pressed above your head whilst his forehead rested against yours own. He warmed the moment your hands dragged to his shoulders, watching your eyebrows push together and a small whine escape you. He smiled at you, leaning down to kiss your lips, whilst his hand leaned down, tugging the thin sheet off his body.

Your legs rose to hang loosely on his hips, gasping as you felt his shaft glide through your folds. As you continued to kiss the man continued to rub himself against your pussy, coating himself in your arousal. You tried to wait patiently, knowing he wouldn’t listen to you even if you tried to rush him.

Once satisfied, Nanami leaning down to grab his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he sunk in; breathing as your sweet walls hugged his length. You whimpered from the stretch, scratching at his shoulders at the slight pain and pressure. Nanami was attentive, continuing to kiss you all while whispering soft words against your lips.

“So good for me.. taking me so well. Mm— relax.. fuck, relax— princess.” He stuttered a bit, eyebrows pinched close as his hips continued slowly. Soon enough he was all the way in, shuddering at the feeling. Nanami settled for a moment, allowing you to rest and catch your breath.

You huffed softly, eyes peering at where you two were connected and back to his face— him already staring at you. You gave a coy smile, warming the minute his hand brushed your cheek. Your hips rose to signal you were fine, Nanami breathing a bit but allowing his hand to fall to your hip.

Slowly, the man dragged his own back, allowing only the tip to reside inside of you. With a single thrust a sharp moan escaped you, bringing him even closer to your body. His slow, languid thrusts continued, allowing you to feel every inch of his length; dragging across your walls and splitting you open so nicely. Your eyes found the back of your skull, beautiful sounds escaped your raw throat, walls clenching with every single thrust.

Kento wasn’t any better, eyes closed as you consumed his body. You felt way too fucking good, to the point the man felt as if he would go crazy if he continued. The way you clung to him, your smell, and as he opened his— your expression, fuck.. the thought of you being nothing more than a mission left his mind quickly.

The man lowered, thrusting deeper as his gentle and slowness flew out the window, thrusts quickening. The new pace caused your eyes to fly open, harsh moans escaped you as your nails dug into his skin. “Kento, Kento—!” You whimpered out, feeling the man leaning down to press wet kisses against your neck. Your thighs locked around his waist, squelches of your messy cunt covering the room.

Your arousal trickled down his length, forming a sticky white ring around the base of his cock. Thrusting, ruining you, it didn’t take long for your stomach to clench, eyes glossy as you creamed all over dick. Your arms wrapped around his neck, breath fanning against his face as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Kento gritted his teeth, fingers digging into your plush skin. “So good.. fuck, you feel so damn good, (Y/N).“ He spoke on hushed breath, cock twitching as he felt his end approaching. Without thinking his hands were dragging under your thighs, pushing them up to press against your chest.

The new position pulled him deeper inside you, tip brushing your cervix with each thrust, the pain melting as the pleasure consumed you. You were rendered useless under him, trapped under his weight with no place to run. Like you wanted to anyway. Despite how sore you were, how absolutely fucked out you were, you didn’t care. Your eyes rolling back, incoherent babbles escaping you as he turned your brain to mush.

It was no surprise you were coming again, harsher then before; making a complete mess under you. Kento groaned at this, your pretty walls fluttering around him pushing him over the edge— driving himself deep and filling you up.

You whined softly, nails digging into him as he gave a few more pumps inside you, hips soon slowing down. Heavy pants entered the room, simply grabbing onto one another, as if scared to let go.

Soon, Kento regained his breath, gulping as the reality of the situation sunk into his mind. Not only did he have inappropriate relations with you, he finished inside. He should be upset with himself, pulling out and quickly cleaning up as if to elevate the consequences. Instead, as his eyes landed on your beautiful features; your sweet smile, how content you looked under him, his anxiety left. Any consequence he had to deal with, was worth it.

Kento, would deal with anything for you.

The man slowly pulled out, hissing softly as he watched his cum flow out of your pretty cunt. Hands smoothing across your thighs, Kento leaned down to kiss your cheek. “I’ll be right back.” He promised, lifting from the bed and walking to the back of the house.

You eased your legs onto the bed, shivering at the slightly sore feeling. Despite this, your smile grew, turning onto your side and giggling a little to yourself.

This wasn’t an ideal situation at all. You a mission, him a government agent— together surviving against the undead outside. But, you wouldn’t have it any either way.

reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

#mani writes ━━ ★ #mechahrt #black!reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x fem!reader #mdni #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x black reader #nanami kento x fem reader

[floydsglasses]

𝙑𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚-Jake "Hangman" Seresin (A Quiet Place AU)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x AFAB OC/Piper

SUMMARY: The world outside is in ruins, human being's are almost extinct, silence is now the key to survival. A family's seemingly happy existence in a bleak world is shattered by monsters.

Tags: Mention of blood/wounds, post apocalyptic setting, use of ASL, Alien creatures. Established Relationship, Implied Smut, (sorry) A LOT OF Angst, Swearing, Fluff, Parenting, self defense k!lling, child endangerment, men being creepy to a woman, first aid

A/N HOLY SHIT THIS IS LONG! Im telling you guy's that you wont hurt my feeling's if you dont read because I wouldn't

WORD COUNT: 9,103

⏁⏁⏁

THEIR QUIET FARMHOUSE almost seemed untouched from the horror’s of the world outside its fenceline. The both of them had talked about leading a quiet life, staying on farms raising animals and crops. Waking up to the sunshine each day and ending the day with a family meal, and falling asleep to the sound of wildlife. 

She was so sure that their late night talk would never happen. Not with the lives they lead, her working shift’s as a nurse, her hour’s never being consistent. And him almost always being on leave or another country away from her. Did not help when she took the fateful test that two pink lines showed up. 

Before the both of them did everything they could to spend time with their little girl, Piper would take every weekend off for her. Even though she and Jake were not married they would give each other day’s with her. Then day one of the end of normal happened, and they had to now fight to protect their little girl from harm more than ever. 

Today was their weekly supply run. Usually consisted of one of them staying behind and the other heavily armed packing as much as they can. Things were a little different, she had never brought Alice with her on a run, she knew she couldn't hide her from the world forever, they both knew. 

She gently pulls down a can of carrots from the supermarket shelves.  She looked down at the list in her hand, she had already gotten most of what she needed, she was bent on trying to find Alice something soft, and non noise making for her to play. The sound of her crayons scraping the floor catche’s her attention. 

Her lips formed a soft smile. She bent down to a height of five year’s height. Her green eyes look up at her mother. Almost the spitting image of herself with the exception of her father’s eyes and grin. 

“Good Job.” Piper signed to her, she grinned. She had been teaching her simple ASL thing’s when she was three, two years later she knows almost fifty word’s to sign, almost more than her own father. 

She picks up her yellow crayon beginning to fill in the sun she drew in the corner tile. A home drawn with dark blue, in the top a purple cartoon plane with a stick figure with yellow hair. 

“That’s you.” The little girl point’s at the stick figures with her auburn hair fiery orange. She drags her finger to the other corner.

Tapping a purple cartoon plane with a stick figure with yellow hair. “And that’s daddy.” She signed. 

“I love it.” She signed with a smile. She envied how innocent she was in their bleak world, she was always grinning and running around their home. Piper gets to her feet leaving her to her 100 crayola pack. 

It was hard to find activities to preoccupy the five year old, one’s that were silent the least. She still tried to educate her as much as she could, teaching her basic reading and which animal’s were which, one’s she would never see sadly. 

The little girl had been too young to recall the trip to the zoo the two of them had taken. 

She touches her braid, pulling her windbreaker close to herself. The calendar she kept read was the end of February and soon March would be approaching. She furrowed her brow, where the hell is he? She thinks.

She had given him the simple task of collecting anything that seemed edible, and batteries. It was a miracle that they even got a generator, much less a place to hold up. 

Her friend had bought the place and planned to make it a functioning farm; he had let her stay there till everything ‘blew over’, she wished he had been right. 

“Jake?” She signed, she shook her head. He can't even see you signing, she reminds herself.

Her heart dropped to her stomach at the flash of a brown jacket. She held her chest panting as she collected herself. He held his mouth, stifling his chuckle.

“Don't do that.” She scolded him, her eye’s hardened with irritation. He smirked his million dollar smirk. 

“I'm sorry.” He start’s off, his motion’s quick. He’s been learning, she thinks through her annoyance.

“I just like seeing your squirm.” The blonde teased. 

She shook her head, trying to contain her smirk. Even in a world where everything had gone silent, somehow it didn't silence him.  

“I hate when you do that.” She scolded him. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Well I love when you do that.” He says, leaning closer to her face. She sighed, she quietly cleared her throat stepping back. 

“What did you find?” She asks him. He turned around, stealthy removing five can’s from his bag, a bottle of jack daniel’s, a lighter and seasons. 

She furrowed her brow picking up the whiskey. She raised a brow at his shopping choice.

“Really?” She signed. He smirked mischievous, she shook her head, 

“How about this?” He challenged, she furrowed her brow, putting her hand on her hips.  He reached inside of his bag slowly pulling something.

His hand grips a small tanned stuffed animal, its beady black eyes stare at her, its hair frizzy with a mane that rounded its entire head and tail, fake white fang’s sewn into the side of its muzzle. 

Her frown slowly morphed into a warm smile. “This make it better?” Jake ask’s. She leaned her head sideways. 

“Maybe.” Piper signed, he smirked at her. He knew the world was starting to take its toll on her.

Night’s weren't easy, she would wake in cold sweat, panting trying to let out a scream, she knew she couldn't. 

“This keep me from sleeping on the couch?” He wondered, she shrugged her shoulders, stepping forward.

“No bet on that flyboy.” She teased him. He held his chest in dramatic fashion.

“Ouch.” He mouthed, she shook her head wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him closer to her. 

His green eyes studied her as she gazed into his. His hair had grown out in the two years of their new world, before he had it well groomed to meet the standard’s of the Navy, his face no longer clean, his blonde beard now similar to a cowboy of spaghetti western. She couldn't complain though, she liked how he looked. She just wished he would keep up with the hygiene.

“You need a shave.” Piper signed. He scoffed at her signals. “Are you gonna do it for me?” He asks with a smirk.

“Who else would.” She joked. He shook his head pecking the auburn hair girl on the lips, she smiled. The sound of a quiet gagging noise causes the two to pull away from each other. At the end of the isle stood Alice, pointing at her tongue at their physical affection. 

The two adults smiled at each other. She removes her arms from around his neck, walking over to the little girl.

“Are you finished drawing?” She asked her. She nodded her head, with a toothy grin.

“Get your stuff, don't go far okay.” She asked her. She patted her on her polka dotted puffer coat.

Piper looked back at the blonde man, looking down at her feet sadly then at him.

“Pack this all up.” She order’s, he mocks her. 

She rounded up smaller thing’s into her bag. The walk back to their home was going to be a long one, she had made sure to find duct tape for her tom’s. Jake had given her tip’s on how to not attract the creature’s attention. 

The three begin to exit the rundown pharmacy. Piper adjusted her beanie, tucking bit’s of her braid into the edge’s. Jake grunted bending down picking up the five year old little girl, placing her on his hip as they started their long walk back. Strolling past the abandoned building’s of what used to be the surrounding small town near San Diego.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SCRUBBED AWAY in the water at the dishes, one of her humane chore’s that she used to enjoy most of the time became a dreaded one. To keep thing’s silent in their household, she had to wash them in water in the sink. They did have running water, which they only ran for their shower’s,for their dishe’s they stuck to fetching it from a well five miles from the property. 

She adjusted her ponytail, wiping the sweat from her forehead.  A hand gently set a cup deep into the water, she whipped her head.

“Sorry.” He signed with thin lined smirk.

“It’s okay.” Piper reassured him, she didn't have the energy to be mad. He looked down at the dirty soapy water, she huffed running her green sponge through the lukewarm water. 

“Stop.” He signs. 

She furrowed her brow. “Why?” She asks him. His lip’s formed a thin line. “Because I want to.” He tells her, she raised a brow. 

“I want to help.” He sign’s to her mouthing the words. 

She sighed, handing over the green sponge, he smirked as she leaned on the kitchen island. She looked over to the living room, Alice sat on the floor, playing quietly with her doll’s near a gas lantern that illuminated her area with an orange glow. 

The sun outside had set, the sky filled with dark clouds and the star’s painted the night. Silent, like always, not for the occasional bird chirping, too high for the creature’s to kill, she guessed. He placed the final plate down on the towel. 

He turned around leaning on the sink, She stared off deep in thought. He stands in front of the auburn hair woman.

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

She shakes her head. “No.” Piper admit’s, her shoulders tensed as she leaned off the island.  His brows furrowed. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asked worriedly.  She licked her lip’s crossing her arms. 

“I saw those symbol’s again.” She signed to him, he raised a brow. 

“Where?” Jake asked her, she sighed heavily. 

“Back of the grocery store.” She tells him. She knew there were rumor’s on the radio of a group killing people they deem too loud for the new world. They had gained the nickname ‘The Bandits’, over parts of the town she would see on wall’s initials, SDB, written in dark brown ink or what she thought was ink. 

“They're getting closer to us.” She state’s, his eyes softened at her worry.

“They don't know we are here.” He reassures her, she shakes her head. 

“But what if they do.” She says, her brown eye’s beginning to welt over with tears in the corners. He shakes his head, stepping closer to her, taking her hands. 

“They don't.” He signed with one hand, she gulped looking him in his eyes.

“If they find out we are here–they will do something bad.” Piper admits to him, she looked over into the living room where her daughter sat playing, unaware of their conversation. 

She looks back to him. “What if they try to..hurt her.” She stumbled over her signing. He shook his head. 

“We won't let that happen.”  Jake reasure’s her. 

“Nothing else matters to me more than her.” Piper tells him. Her heart skipped a beat, she could see the fear flash for a moment in his face. 

“If something happened to her, I couldn't live with myself.” She signed. 

“I'm not gonna let them find us.” He swears, his fist balled as he signed to her. “And if they do.” He inhales deeply. 

“They will regret fucking with the wrong family.” The blonde stated. Her frown slowly turned to a soft smile. 

“What?” He signed, she covered her mouth, muffling her soft chuckle. “You sound like your old self, Flyboy.” She wrap’s one arm on his shoulder bringing him into an embrace. He smirks against her shoulder. 

She brings her nose into his black shirt that clung to him. She thought it was strange how the world had to end to bring them closer, more than the day their daughter was born. She had barely seen him when he was in the Navy, he was always busy. 

A loud crash brings them out of their embrace. Jake’s head snapped in the sound’s direction, seeing the flame’s from the gas lamp starting to spread, he quickly ran grabbing the dark blanket, throwing it on top of the fire, patting down extinguishing it.

The young girl looked up at him, her eyes widened as the silence filled the room again. Piper’s heart skipped a beat as it began to race, she didn't dare to move as she anticipated the sound of the inhumane roar’s hell bent on ending their disrupters. Jake slowly gets to his knees, quietly as possible. 

Silence, dead silence. Piper glanced at her daughter, her eye’s widening as she looked to her father.He lightly got to his feet, looking all around at the farmhouse ceiling. His shoulders relaxed,He shook his head turning around. 

BANG!.  

She flinched, her heart dropping to her stomach. He brings his finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet. Alice’s breath shake’s as her eye’s darted between her parent’s, her mother stood frozen with her mouth parted, her father slowly making his way to the window. 

He leaned his head close to the cool glass. He looked to the roof, he looked down at the ground.

Cries of a wild dog interrupted the silence, the brown and tan coyote scampered away knocking down trash. The couple let out a breath of relief, Alice ran on her tiptoes to her mother’s side, wrapping her arms around her tightly. 

Her eye’s fell, as she looked down at her as she stroked her strawberry blonde hair. She wanted to whisper in her daughter’s ear that she was okay, that the monster’s were not gonna come back, that she was safe. Speaking was a grace that she had for three years of life, now it was all gone. 

⏁⏁⏁

GENTLY SHE walked down the stairs, the watch on her wrist reading half past ten o’clock. She ran her hand through her hair, messy with wave’s from being in a braid for so long. She clung to the oversized plaid shirt that engulfed her figure, his clothes some of the time made up most of her wardrobe.

She slowly walked to the sliding door’s of the basement bathroom, it somehow being an almost safe room for them to be in, the rushing of the shower water drowning out their voice.

The air smelt of cedarwood filled in nostrils as she stood leaned on the doorway. The steam from the shower still lingering as she watched him apply aftershave. His beard now reduced to a stubble, his hair though remained untouched. He wiped the condensation from the mirror with his fist, her silhouette casted onto the hickory wall’s.

He smirked softly, facing her. A towel wrapped around his neck, only clothes remaining on him being his black sleep shorts. “What are you doing up?” He wonder’s.

She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Couldn't sleep.” She signs to him, he nods his head.

“How is she?” He ask’s, she sighed.

“Fine I think..at least what you could be in this place.” She tells him.

He looked her up and down, she wore a dark gray shirt with US NAVY written in bold font, and striped sleep shorts, paired with his red plaid shirt that she once swore she would return to him. He smiled softly.

“What?” She signed to him, her lip’s forming a thin line and smiled. He runs his fingers across the front of his face in clockwise motion, his fingers and thumb end at his chin. Beautiful, Her face grew beet red.

He shook his head, still smiling. “Nothing.” He says. She nodded her head at his secretiveness, he sighed, opening a draw, pulling out black and blue hair dress scissors. He motion’s them to her.

“I’ll do it.” She tells him. She quietly slid the door behind her shut, closing it with a rag in the way. The auburn hair woman, sit’s behind on the leather bench with her legs. He held up his finger for her to wait.

He leaned over, reaching in pulling the handle for the water, purposely setting it to cold. He sits on the floor with his back to her, leaning back into her. She gently takes her fingers through his hair, finding the dead end’s to cut off.

She carefully snipped off bit’s onto the violet towel.

“You know you could do this yourself.” Piper speak’s up softly, he chuckled.“Why would I do that?" He ask's her.

"You do it so much better.” Jake admit’s, his tone haughty. She rolled her eye’s playfullying as she continued to work away.

“Sure Flyboy.” She teased him, he smiled fondly at his nickname.

“You know you really should manage this hair better.” She joked, he shrugged.

“Don't know if you know darling but the world has ended.” He reminded her, and she shook her head again.

“I don't think these alien asshole’s care how pretty you are.” He joked, she smiled at his cockiness.

She raised a brow. “Did you just call yourself pretty?” Piper jested, he patted her leg making her laugh softly.

“Shut up.” He says, smiling.

She sighed sadly, she continued to trim away at his hair. Memories of the world before had started to wash over her. She longed for the day’s of them together on the beach under the sun, laughing and teasing each other. Or when she had first met him, a bad night in the ER sent her to the Hard Deck, dying for a drink. Next thing she knew, someone had sent a whiskey neat, she looked up from her glass locking eye’s with probably the most handsome she had ever seen, straight from GQ magazine cover. Things stayed that way for awhile before she got the confidence to say ‘Hello’, and the rest is history.

“Are you still taking her tomorrow?” He ask’s her, his tone lacking any loftiness. She sighed as she cut his wet hair.

“I am, she deserves it.” Piper tells him.

“Are you sure?” He ask’s.

“Yes, she needs the chance to be a kid, I remember loving the beach when I was her age.” She recall’s. “We didn't have what she does remember.” He point’s out.

“It doesn't matter, okay, I want her to be happy.” She proclaims. He nod’s his head, he sighed looking down at the floor.

“I know you do, and I want that it’s just.” He stops him mid-sentence. She furrowed her brow, he gulp’s.

“I know you don't care what happens to you.” He continues.

“But I do.” He admit’s, her heart skipped a beat in her chest. His vulnerability came in moment’s of them finally being able to speak with one another. She knew he hated not being able to talk, talking was how he won her over, how they got the sweet little girl who slept soundly upstairs.

“I just want you….I want you both to be safe.” He admit’s somberly. She sighed, reaching her hand down, he raised his hand lacing his finger’s with her’s. The ambience of the running water filling the room.

“You're not gonna lose us.” She whispers in his ear.

"You're not gonna lose me." She promised.

His grip on her hand tightened as he blinked away the tears he knew were fighting to escape. She sighed against the side of his head, the tiredness weighing heavy on her body. If things could stay this way forever she would accept in a heartbeat,peace with him and her daughter.

She inhales deeply as she sits back up, counting to cut at his hair. “When are you y’all leaving?” He asks breaking the ice, she clears her throat.

“Some time after lunch.” Piper tells him. “Beach is about a one hour walk.” She says she takes a handful of the end’s of his hair, trimming around the edge of ear’s.

She had experience cutting her own hair, not being able to afford a salon during college.

“Hope you make it back before it rain’s.” Jake say’s. She furrowed her brow.

“It’s not gonna rain.” Piper state’s, snipping the scissor’s loud,he scoffed. “Yeah it is.” He declares, she shook her head.

“And how do you know this?” Piper wonder’s, he sits up straighter. “I can smell it.” He tells her, she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Don't give me that southern superpower thing.” She joke’s. He rolled his eyes at her teasing.

“You can't smell rain.” She chuckled.

“Yeah I can, tell me a time when I was wrong.” He challenged, and she bit her lip.

“When you were on leave when we first started dating you said it was gonna storm.” Piper recall’s, he smirked.

“And?” His tone condescending. “And it was dry all week.” She state’s, he rolls his eyes.

“No it wasn't.” He says offended. She shrugged his shoulders.

“You want to question me while I have a sharp object in my hand.” She threatened, she clicked the scissor’s close with a snip.

He put his hand’s up in surrender. She smirked at her own victory, she trimmed around the last bit of his long hair, getting it down to a short easy to brush cut.

She runs her finger’s through, getting rid of the extra bit’s she missed.

He moaned softly at the feeling of fingers through his hair. She removed the towel from around his neck shaking out into the trash. She brings her arms wrapping them around his neck and torso.

She ran her cold hand down his chest, he shuddered as goosebumps ran down each part of his body. He held onto her arms leaning his head back against her leg, looking up at her.

Her nails grazed across his skin as she brought her hand to his cheek. She inhaled deeply as she began moving her lips against his.

She felt his eye lashes tickle her chin. Kissing him upside down was not ideal, though she had to admit it was very hot. His fingers caressed her face. She exhaled as he pulled away, his breath peppering her mouth.

He rolled over onto his knees. She barely had time to catch her own breath as his mouth met her's. She closed her eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.

His hand trailed down her waist, thumbing the edge of her shirt. The butterflies in her stomach went crazy as his calloused fingers grazed under her bare skin. She shivered.

He slowly pushed her back to the wall, her leg uncrossing, placing one leg around his waist. He ran his hand up her thigh, his fingers playing with the elastic of her sleep shorts.

She opened her eyes as it clicked in her head. "Jake." She says breathless, pulling away.

He kept his mouth busy as he peppering kisses down neck. She bit her lip stifling the moan that dared to escape her.

"Jake." She speaks up. He finally pulled away looking up at her, his eyes meeting her's.

"What?" He whispered. She sighed looking away at the water that still ran, she would deal with the mess later.

She looked back at him. "The noise." Piper whispers back. He shook his head.

"I can be quick, if you can" He promises, his southern drawl coming out. Her heart skipped a beat, she nodded, both of them continuing what they had started.

⏁⏁⏁

THE MUD SQUISHED under her shoe’s, her grip on Alice's hand not letting up with each step they took. Piper had taken protection with them, a knife that Jake had given her for her birthday last year, carving her initials into the leather of her holster.  And a pistol, she knew there was a chance she wasn't going to use it because of the noise, but she knew with the bandit’s becoming a looming threat she couldnt be too careful. 

Alice sighed bored as they passed more tree’s, they had stuck to the hiking path laid down for them by the park service, nothing entertaining for the five year old to really look at. Talking wasn't an option for them. Piper could hear the cry of bird’s growing louder,the crashing of waves more prevalent as they walked. 

Before the world had ended, she had taken her to the beach plenty of time’s, only she wasn't old enough to remember it all.

Piper had grown up in Vermont, not even close enough to the ocean, she could recall when she first got to the beach, being twenty four and finally finishing nursing school it felt like she could take on anything that she drove straight into the freezing water.

The both of them come to a stop. She smiled softly overlooking the rocky cliff as the ocean wave’s crashed loudly below them. She turned to the strawberry blonde little girl, her jaw agape as she stared out to the shoreline. 

“What do you think?” Piper signs to her daughter, she smiles at her mother.

“It's cool.” She says, nodding her head. She turned her head to the path stairs leading down. She looked back at her.

“Want it to get cooler?” She asked her, she nodded her head, with a flick of her fingers she gestured for her to follow her. 

The wind whipped against her hair, throwing her braid all over. The cloud’s in the sky slowly turned gray as they walked down the cobble step’s. She was happy that the railing had not given way to the elements yet, as she hopped down after the last step, turning around and extending her hand for her daughter to take. 

“Careful.” Piper signed with one hand. The strawberry blonde girl slowly got onto the rocky path. 

The both of them in slow pace getting closer to the water that pulled in and out with a loud roar. She takes her back pack off, setting it on the dry sand, Alice following her lead. She puts her hand in front of daughter. 

“Wait.” Piper speak’s up. Her green eyes widened in fear as she whipped her head all around. She gets on her knees in the sand getting to her daughter’s height, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

She points at the ocean. “This is loud, they don't like it.” She explains to the frightened young girl. 

“You don't have to be afraid, you are safe here.” Piper reassured, her voice soft as she looked her up and down. The wind kissing her cheek, she looked out at the ocean to her mother.

“Let’s get these shoe’s off.” She says, velcroing her neon purple straps, sitting them next to their backpack’s.

She unzips her own jacket tossing it to the side, Alice slid her polka dot jacket off onto her jacket. 

Piper kicked off her tom’s, rolling up her pant leg to her knees. The two of them looked at each, she grinned as she picked her up by her arm’s running through the freezing water that stung at their legs.  She laughed loudly as she spun around with her daughter, her heart pounding with excitement.

“Think fast!” Piper exclaimed as she flung water on her, she squealed, flinging the foam from the wave’s at her. She yelped in surprise at her return fire. 

She looked up at the sky, the spring air cooled her as she extended her arms, taking in the moment of clarity. 

Alice wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, she sighed deeply as she place her hand on her shoulders holding her closely, the wave’s of the ocean pulling in and out around them as they remained in an embrace. 

The two of them did all they could to enjoy their time on the beach. Alice constantly challenged her to a race to the rock’s and back, Piper didn't have to bother with letting her win as the young girl was much faster than she had expected. She went around the sand looking for sea shell’s for the both of them. 

“Would daddy like this one?” Alice wonder’s holding up a gray and blue scallop seashell, she smiled.

“He would love it.” She tells her, she laughed as she stuffed her jean pocket. Piper imagined them filled to the brim. 

The one good day she could give her meant more than anything. She knew that the young girl couldn't have the childhood that either of parents had.

Running around in the grass and hanging out during the summer with friend’s. Staying out past curfew to be scolded, playing on the playground and seeing how high she could climb to see over the city. 

She sat at the edge of the shoreline, using a toothpick she had brought along to draw in the damp sand.

She drug the sharp wood across the top, letting her hand decide the picture she wanted. Alice sat criss crossed quietly digging in the sand.

Piper’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered. She walked over to her backpack, unzipping it. She walked back over, sitting in front of the strawberry blonde girl. 

“I got you something.” She says, she looked up, excitement in her emerald eyes. “What is it?!” She asked curiously with her toothy grin. 

“Close your eyes.” She tells her, her shoulders slumped annoyed.

“Why?!” She groaned. 

“Just do it.” She says. She rolled her eyes as she told her. 

“No peeking.” Piper state’s, she brought her little hands covering her face. She pulling the object out from behind her back, she gently removed her hand’s from her petite face, placing a soft brown toy in the palms. 

“Open.”Her green eyes fluttered, her grin widened as she looked at the fluffy mane of the cuddly stuffed toy.

“For me?” She wondered. 

“Yes, it's your’s.” She confirmed. She squealed in excitement as she held the toy close to herself in embrace. Her heart ached at her joy, she spun around on her heel’s landing on her knees in the sand. 

“Thank you Thank you!” She gushed. She wrapped her arms around her neck, she gasped in surprise, she bring’s a hand to her back holding her closely. Alice’s shoulder’s tensed up as she slumped against her mother.

She pulled away as she thumbed the of the snout of the lion, its beady black eyes staring up at her.

“Ally?” She say’s warmly.She doesn't answer, playing with the wet sand. Her green eyes softened.

“What’s the matter?” Piper asked in concern. 

“I’m sorry.” Alice say’s fiddling with a small sand castle. She furrowed her brow confused. “For what, baby?” She wonder’s. 

“The monster’s found us last night.” Alice admit’s, Piper shook her head, the five year old girl looked down at her bare feet.

“No it's not your fault.” She tells her warmly, she sits her toothpick down. 

“I made a noise..” She stammered as a tear rolled down her cheek. She shook her head. The woman slide’s over the sand, bringing her young girl into an embrace.  

“Alice, it wasn't your fault.” Piper whisper’s into her ear, softly stroking her hair.

“Don't blame yourself for anything like that, not ever.” Her voice was smooth, she pulled away placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulders. 

“This world is a scary place.”She tells the little girl. Her green eyes glistened with tears at the edges. She shakes her head gulping.

“But you are so..so much bigger and braver than it.” She stammered. 

“You are so brave Ally, and you are so strong.” She brings her hand’s to her face, gently cupping her cheek. Her pink little lip’s form a thin line smile, Piper’s used her thumb brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

“We should go.” Piper say’s getting to her feet,the cloud’s above grew darker, puffing up with each end. The sound of rumbling above in the darkness.

“Mommy.” She spoke up.

She turned her head at her, “Someone’s watching us.” she pointed. Her brown eyes widened in fear looking at the ridge.

The shadow of a stranger peeked through the fog that had begun to roll in with the storm above. 

“Alice.” Her voice stern with the five year old, she looked back at her.

“Grab your things, right now.” She ordered, she furrowed. 

“Why? Who is that?” The little girl wonder’s. Her brown eye’s stare down the stranger on the hill.

“No one good.” She answered. She hustled around grabbing her bag’s, pulling her jacket back on. 

Piper didn't waste any time with grabbing her daughter’s hand, her pace in walking faster then her own daughter. She held her hand on the little girl , she knew that anyone who wasn't her boyfriend or was someone she once considered friend was a danger to them. The alien’s were a concern but they weren't what scared her. 

Drop lits began to drizzle onto her coat, the dirt slowly turning into mud with each step they took. She eyed the tree’s on each side, scanning for danger’s each direction. Maybe she was being paranoid, and that she was wrong about the bandit’s. 

Thunder rumbled above them, Alice’s grip on her mother’s finger tightened at the sound. Should have left earlier, she thinks. Alice hated storm’s, Piper found it ironic as the night she was born a typhoon struck the coast of Southern California.

A storm so dangerous that it flooded most of the valley leaving so much debris, and destruction that it was like a wonderland. 

She panted as she continued to speed walk through the pines. Piper used one hand to pull her hood over her head. CLICK.

She stop’s dead in track’s extending her palm in front of her daughter. 

Her brown eyes drifted down to her ankle, a thin line of metal pushed right against her, hooked up to a tree. She didn't dare to move to find out what it was rigged too. She gulped looking down at the strawberry blonde girl at her waist, she shook her head. 

“Don't move.” Piper mouthed, her eye’s fearfully looking at her, nodding at her order’s.

The squishing of mud under feet catches her attention, she looks up seeing two men wearing black clothes and bandanas hiding their faces from them.

They smirked sinisterly at her, eyeing the young woman and the little girl. The blue bandana pulled out a knife from his pocket, shiver’s run down her spine seeing the dried brown on the blade.

Hair’s on her neck stood to attention as she felt the hot breath of another person breathing behind her. She lifted her hand’s up surrender to the stranger’s, the lack of sunlight couldn't help her determine how many were behind her. 

“Which one do you want?” The red bandana sign’s to the blue one, she guessed one of them was the leader of their group.

Red’s eye’s trailed over to the auburn hair woman, looking at her buttoned up henley shirt, the clothing around his mouth moving in a circular motion. 

“I like redheads.” He signs, her blood ran cold at their signing. Her eyes darted to her right, another man with a black bandana stood next to her.

Her chest heaved up and down as her heart began to race. 

She wasn't sure what they would do to her, but to her daughter she could get an awful image. There were no more law’s or legal systems, a perfect world for sick people like these men. 

“Take the big one to the hill.” Blue order’s, red’s brow’s furrowed looking at the little girl next to her.

Red bandana looked Alice up and down, he stepped up to her, getting down to her height. Her green eyes flooded with tears at the strange man. 

His dirty hand took the lion toy out of her hand’s. Piper’s hand shook with rage seeing his dirty nail’s touching the toy hand picked for her daughter from the man she loved. She knew what to do now. 

“This one is mine.” Blue signed, her little face shook frightened. 

Piper stepped forward with a click of the trip wire, a collection of bottle’s tied together collapsed down with a loud clunk, the men’s eyes widened at the sound. Piper growled as she plunged her knife into the jugular of the black bandana. 

“Run!” Piper whispered to Alice, she grunted as her feet kicked up mud running away. The auburn hair woman swung her fist into the face of the blue bandana before she ran alongside her daughter. 

The two of them panting as they jumped over bit’s of twig’s and green’s, sticking to the path they had followed and the one they had created. Piper looked over her shoulder, the shadow’s of the tree’s of people following right not far behind. 

Piper grunted, grabbing Alice’s shoulders, holding her closely in a bridal style.

Alice’s strawberry blonde hair whipped against her face, the rain had started to become less of drizzle and more of a sprinkle. She looked down at her feet, her footprints in the mud clear with each step. 

She duck’s behind a tree, setting her little girl down. She panted with her back against the tree as her mother set her backpack down on the ground. 

“You need to run!” Piper signed frantically. She shook her head. “No!” Alice signed. 

“Stay on the path, find your daddy.” Piper declared. Her green eye’s bore into her dark brown eyes. “No.” She repeated. 

“You have to run, or they will find you.” She orders her, she shakes her little head.  “I can't leave you.” She signed her lip quivering. 

“I cant– “Alice Seresin.” She whispered and interrupted her,  she held her face. She took a deep breath. 

“You are so brave..and sp strong, and I need you to do this.” She whispered. 

Fear flashing over her face. Tears falling from eye, twig’s snap her heart racing faster. She brought her lip’s to her forehead, inhaling her scent. She pulled away admiring her daughter one last time. 

“I love you so much.” Piper’s voice breaking,She pulled away admiring her daughter one last time. She sniffled, taking a deep breath.

“Now..RUN!” She ordered. Her hair whipped in the wind as she darted away from her mother. Piper gulped as her throat tightened. She removes her knife from her holster, huffing as she turned around marching through the tree

⏁⏁⏁

THE MEN STOOD PANTING. Blue bandana stepped forward looking at the three remaining men. He kicked the dirt in anger, pacing back and forth over the cliff that overlooked the beach.

“Where did the big one go?” Red whisper’s. Blue shook his head. “Who gives a fuck!” He signs. The three men flinched at his anger, he throws his cap off his head.

“The little one, get me the little one!” Blue order’s pointing his finger at the red bandana, he nodded his head turning around following the path. The two remaining men looked at their leader, he ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“What are you gonna do with her when you get her?” Yellow bandana wonder’s, he shook his head.

“That’s for me to know.” He tells him.

“What about the big one, are we gonna auction her?” Purple bandana asks. He rolled his eyes at his question.

“Fuck her, she killed one of our own.” Blue say’s, shaking his head.

“She could be more useful than the little one.” Yellow point’s out. Blue grabs him by the neck holding him tightly.

“I dont fucking want her..get me the little one.” He whispers in his ear’s.

A gurgling sound interrupts both men. They snapped their head’s seeing purple grabbing at his throat as blood drenched his coat as he fell to the ground. With a grunt she removed her blade, she stood up looking at both men. Her eyes burned with anger at the blue bandana.

She pointed her knife at him. “You.” She signed.

Yellow eyes the woman, he charged at her, he swung his fist at her. She huffed dodging it, hooking her arm under his, he groaned in pain at the fiery hot pain of the knife plunging into his shoulder blade.

She knee’s his gut shoving him onto the ground. Blue smirked at her, slowly clapping silently at her. She vibrated with anger at his mockery.

“Now what?” he signed.

“You die.” Piper signed. He smirked at her threat, he stepped forward in a challenging manner. “Are you sure about that?” He questioned. She grunted, swinging her blade.

He jumped back, she huffed, swinging her fist in his direction, missing again. She groaned as fiery pain spread across her face, the impact of his punch disorienting her. The rain began to become heavier as the two of them fought.

She grunt’s locking his head in hold, punching him in the gut repeatedly. He grunted in effort pulling at her raincoat, removing it from her entirely. Shegasped as he pulled himself out of her hold, shoving her into the mud. Blue bandana spit’s out blood onto the ground.

“Bitch.” He grumbled, she wiped her nose as the copper taste filled her mouth. She pat’s her holster looking for her knife, her eyes widened as she couldn't feel the ebony handle.

“Shit.” She mouthed. She flip’s onto her feet, she rushed at him tackling him with the full force her body could muster, their body’s slammed onto the cold rock wet rocks.

Piper cough’s holding her rib cage, his grimy hands shoving her face onto the concrete.Anger boiled inside of her at the feeling of his nail’s digging into her cheeks.

“Fucking die already.” He grumbled, the pressure on her back becoming heavier. On the ground a reflection from an object shined her way. She shouts failing her legs in each direction, he exclaimed frustrated.

She reached out her hand for the shiny object, she gasped for air as her rib cage began to feel smaller. Her wet finger’s lace through the handle hole, she pulled it closer to herself. In effort she rolled shoulder’s spinning around.

He cried out in pain, cupping his cheek as blood began to seep out. She stood on her feet looking at the man. She shook herself off as the adrenaline pumped through her body. He yells as he runs at her, she yelps moving out of the way.

Piper turned around only to be met with a blow to the face. Her back smacked the rock’, closer and closer to the edge the both of them dualed, her knife dropped to the ground with a clink as the man got on top of her gripping her wrist.

“You just giving up, sweet thing.” His voice sneered at her, his hand slowly trailing to the button of her henley shirt, he groaned closing his eyes as his dirty fingernails pulled away the clothing separating the piece. She grunted against his weight.

He mumbled as he leaned his head back as he countied to work on the top of her shirt. Thunder cracked above her making her heart skip a beat, she turned her head, her blade laid only an inch away from her. Without hesitation her hand gripped the handle as she brought it to chest.

He gasped loudly, falling back onto the ground. Piper yelped as she crawled onto him, cutting through him with multiple blow’s, each time letting out a yell of rage. He gurgled, coughing up blood onto her face.

An inhuman cry pulled her out of her trance. She snapped her head watching the tree’s pull apart as they got closer. She pushed herself out of the way.

⏁⏁⏁

ALICE PANTED as she kept running along the pathway, her sketcher’s covered in the mud as the rain began to get heavier. The farmhouse laid in plain sight as she got closer to the fence line, only a few more step’s.

Thunder rumbled loudly, she flinched at the sound but countied to run. She had stopped only twice to catch her breath, she couldn't let her mother down, she need to find her father, to safety.

Her strawberry blonde hair bit’s were sticking to her wet cheek’s. She held her hand at her hips as she stopped finally at the white fence. On the porch, her father sat on the swing, the rain pouring as he took in the sound’s.

Her mother’s word’s sound in her head, they don't like loud sounds, water was loud at the beach, maybe it’s loud now.

“Dadd-!” Her voice interrupted as a hand clamped down on her mouth. She struggled against the person that drugged her, her screams muffled as she desperately cried for her father.

“Quiet!” The voice snapped, she grunted elbowing her kidnapper in the gut, she bit into the finger of the stranger hard. He shouted in pain as he let go of her.

“Little brat!” He grumbled.

The man cladded in red is brought to the ground. Alice gasped in surprise as a blonde man held him to the ground, making repeated blows to the face. He turned looking over his shoulder at her.

“Alice, go!” Jake order’s, she nodded her head sprinting away. His green eyes darkened as he held the man by his shirt. Rain poured down on the both of them, soaking his black long sleeve shirt.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He questioned in fury, the man smirked up at him. He shouts as she punches him. “Who are you!?” He demanded once again.

He doesn't answer. Jake growls' shoving his head against the ground. “Where’s my wife?!” He demand’s.

The man gripped the handle of his blade pulling out. Jake gripped the man’s wrist redirecting his aim, he held one hand over his mouth as he stabbed him in the gut. His cries of agony muffled by him.

“Tell me where she is?!” Jake ordered. His teeth turned red as his smirk widened at his violence. His nose scrunched up as he twisted the blade.

“Tell me!” He fumed.He coughed, spitting blood straight up at him.

“Dead..silent..like us like you will be.” He gurgled through his attempts to laugh. Jake shook his head.

“Just you.” He declares. He coughed once more as his breath slowly became a wheeze before he finally exhaled. Jake wiped his face with the back of his hand, throwing off the blood onto the ground.

He got to his feet, he grunted as he ran back to the house. His boot’s heavy on the wood as he got inside the house.

“Daddy!” A small voice exclaimed.

she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, thunder rumbling louder outside. He sighed in relief, getting to his knees wrapping his arms around the little girl.

“Thank god you're okay.” He whispered into her ear, He panted, breathing heavily. Holding her as close to him as he could. Her wet hair draped across his neck, her little face wet from tears and rain.

“Alice.” He speaks up, her breath shake’s as he pulls away, he holds her shoulders gently.

“Are you hurt, did he hurt you?” He ask’s her, she shakes her head.

He brushed back a piece of her wet hair.” Alice.” He say’s softly, her green eye’s meet his.

“Where’s mommy?” He wonder’s. She began to pant looking at the screen door, his heart fell to his stomach. He blinked as the color drained from his face.

“Oh god..oh god.” He pant’s.He gets to his feet, only being stopped by a small hand gripping his.

“Don't go!” She exclaimed. He glanced between his daughter and the door. “Please.” She pleaded.

He inhaled deeply. “I won't.” He promised. He runs a hand through his hair, collecting his thoughts.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Jake sniff’s, taking her small hand in his leading her downstairs.

Alice’s expression remained bleak, the once happy five year old who had so much to show the world driven into silence. Not even her father playing with her in the bathtub, making funny noises, brought her out.

Jake didn't want to admit to himself but knew she had experienced something awful.

He pulled her blanket over her, staying next to her as she slowly fell asleep. The storm outside didn't settle down even as she slumped against his chest. Many things were running through his mind, like what had happened when he wasn't with them, why did these bastard’s come for his family, and where is his wife.

He slowly got out of the small twin size bed, placing the purple starry comforter back over her. Sleepy soundly, he walked out of the room quietly shutting the door behind him.

His breath shake’s as he walks down the steps to the living room.

He looked around the farmhouse, the fireplace cracking and popping, the rumble of thunder outside disrupting the coziness of the home. It felt empty, he felt empty, half of his heart was gone. It was his fault, he let her leave when he knew the danger of the world was the monster’s.

Not the monster’s who hunt for sport at just the sound of a twig snapping, the real monster’s who got the sick pleasure of destroying the lives of others.

He bends down on the floorboard, sliding away the board feeling around the cabinet below for the old wood handle. He grunt’s slowfully removing the remington rifle from the space, he opened the barrel to see it was still fully loaded since he found it.

The former pilot stand’s up, in a steady pace outside to the front porch.

Lightning cracks across the sky as the rain continues its rage against the earth. In one hand he held the gun in the other, the Jack Daniel's he was scolded for finding, he sits on the wooden chair.

Staring at the dirt road paved with sand to silence their step’s. Keeping her safe was all he had now, he wasn't gonna let anyone or anything take what he had left. Thunder rumbled across the setting spring sky, his finger on the trigger ready.

A snap of a branch bring’s him out, he stood to attention, cocking the gun. His breathing steady as his heart raced in his ears. His eyes trained on the dark road, a silhouette stumbled his way. Their hair is braided, wet and tangled. He could make out the shadow of a blade in their hand, and in the other a stuffed animal.

They limped closer, the lamp on the wood post illuminating a yellow and orange hue on their face. His green eyes widened in realization, he dropped the gun in a dash towards her.

She gasped in shock at the sudden impact of his embrace. The knife fell from her hand’s, her free one around his neck.

Piper’s chest heaved up and down, shivering from the cold. Salty tear’s mix with the earthy water that fell on them. He whispered in her ear a mixture of apologies.

“You were right.” She breathed out, he furrowed his brow. “Right about what?” He ask’s, his green eyes watered over.

“It rained.” She chuckled weakly, he shook his head, his laugh vibrating against her shoulder. “I hate that.” She admit’s with a small smile.

“You love it.” Jake whispered, she nodded against him.

"Get me inside, please.” Piper pleaded with him. He complied with her order’s, latching his arm’s under her as she went limp in exhaustion.

⏁⏁⏁

SHE SAT on her side of their bed, her damp hair draped over her gray tank top. Her body shivered even with his jacket on her, her shirt had become less of a beige color and more of dirty brown from the blood. 

“This is gonna sting.” He tells her, she wasn't used to being patched up, she usually did the first aid. He dabbed the alcohol soaked rag against her split knuckle. She could feel the multiple bruises growing on her body, and she knew for sure when thing’s cooled down she was more than likely gonna be sick. 

She grit her teeth. “Fuck.” Piper swear’s, the thunderstorm allowed them to talk, she was thankful for once for him to be right about the rain. 

He smirked. “Threw a hell of a punch.” Jake commented, her lips formed a thin line.

She tried not to think about what had happened. 

“Yeah, and got a bruised rib to add to it.” She chuckled weakly, he pulled out a bandage from her first aid bag. His calloused hands maneuvered with the roll, beginning to wrap the cloth around her hand. “I taught you well.” Piper say’s, he smirked.

“I'm a quick learner.” He reminds her, she sighed leaning her head back. 

“I don't doubt that Flyboy.” Her voice raspy, she sniffed. She gazed at his face, dried blood at the edge of nose, and furrowed her brow.

“Are you okay?” She ask’s. 

His green eyes looked up at her. “Are you really asking me that?” Jake wonder’s, her hand caressed his face, warm to the touch. 

“Did they fucking find you?” Piper demand’s from him, he looks down continuing to clean her up. 

“Jake.” She says, he blink’s looking back at her. She reached down, groaning as she pulled out alcohol wipes beginning to dab away the crimson. 

“You shouldn't be doing this for me.” He says. She shook her head. “Too bad, I am.” She says, holding his cheek with one hand. “Piper.” He says, she shook her head. “Doesn't seem broken.” She tells him. 

“Pip-”You should be careful wiping around here though.” She interrupts, he take’s both of his hands, removing her hand’s from his face, looking at her. 

“Please stop.” He pleaded with her, she exhaled in exhaustion. “I’m sorry.” Piper whisper’s, she leaned her forehead against. 

“God, I'm so tired.” She breathed out. She inhaled his scent as she hugged him.  “It’s okay.” He whispers as he wraps his arm around her as she closes her eye’s, her head slumped against his shoulder. Her skin was cold and damp as he lowered her back into their bed. He holds her close to him, not letting her go. The storm outside begins to die down becoming a drizzle, he leaned over her body, turning off the gas lamp that lit the entire room. 

A/N: HOLY..I Have no word's how did I pull this off this week.

NO PRESSURE Tagged: @cowboysandpilots @bobfloydssunnies @sugarcoated-lame @sorchathered @fairyheart @senawashere @swiftsgirlfriend @nouis-bum @pinkdaisies9285 @mamachasesmayhem @senawashere @cottagecori

#top gun maverick #top gun au #top gun fanfic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake hangman fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff #top gun fan fiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fan fic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin smut #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #fanfic #fanfic writer #fanfic rec

[cait-with-luv]

Little Leopard [5]

"If it weren't for seven men that fateful night you wouldn't be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard."

Header Credit: Me

Pairing: OT7 X Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Hybrid! AU, Strangers to Lovers! AU, Rich!BTS, Fluff, Angst, eventual smut, Polyamorous!BTS

Warnings: Angst, Hospitals, discussions of weight, discussions of eating disorders, dissociation, mentions of past mental abuse, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, discussions of trauma, anxiety, depression, explicit language, OC gets a little possessive, self-doubt, NOT SAFE FOR RAMADAN.

Word Count: 4K

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Like Seokjin had said the next day after breakfast, he was taking you to the clinic, and to be honest, you were nervous. You hadn’t been to a hybrid clinic and you didn’t know what to expect. You knew that Seokjin wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable and that he’d never hurt you. You had to keep reminding yourself that this was for your own good, he just wanted to know if you were fit and healthy. 

Whilst eating breakfast, Yoongi and Hoseok had told you they were going to tag along so you wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable in a new and nerve-wracking environment and so you could have a hand to hold if need be. It made you feel warm inside knowing that they really did care about you. Your thoughts, feelings, your physical being. Everything. It all mattered to them and they always made sure you knew that. 

You knew that Jungkook had told them about your talk last night, they didn’t have to tell you that they knew, you could tell by the way their scents had changed when they saw you come down the stairs this morning. Their usual soft, comforting scents changed to a dull burning bitter smell, the gentle looks of care and worry. But what you appreciated the most was how they didn’t bring it up, they didn’t make you talk about it. They were really allowing you to do things on your own terms. You will never be able to tell them how grateful you are. They were always there to abolish all your negative thoughts and feelings. They’re like umbrellas, when you’re toxic thoughts rain upon you, they shelter you from them and wait with you for the sun to break through the rain clouds not ever leaving you for a second.

“You ready to go, Sweetpea? Yoongi and Jin are waiting for us.” Hoseok says softly peering into your room after he knocked, chuckling seeing you sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, your pastel yellow dress sprawled around you like you had come out of a Disney movie, a little pout on your lips as you look up at Hoseok with a look of defeat and hold out your brush and a scrunchie.

“I can’t do my hair, w-will you help me Hobi? I keep catching my ears and it hurts.” You whine out in exasperation. It was clear to him you had been trying to do it for a while but was clearly being defeated. He couldn’t say no to you. You had him and the rest of the boys wrapped around your finger and you had absolutely no idea.

“Of course, Sweetpea, you gotta be careful of these cute little ears.” Hoseok coos, taking the brush and scrunchie from you and sitting behind you, beginning to brush your hair, frowning at how tense and anxious you were not just from how you sat but from how your tail nervously flicked, poking his leg occasionally. Something was playing on your mind and Hoseok wanted to help you. Out of all the boys, he had spent the least time with you having to constantly be at work all the time.

“Penny for your thoughts, Sunshine?” He asks tenderly beginning to fishtail braid your hair, pausing as you sigh and grab your tail to play with it, something all hybrids did for comfort and it was nice for the boys to see you beginning to lean more into your natural instincts. They had noticed in the first two weeks you lived with them you barely did anything…Leopard like? Feline like? 

It was like you had buried any instinct you had as a leopard. They had begun to think you had been forced to not act on them or perhaps you just didn’t have any but as you began to relax around them the more you showed your feline side and in all honesty, it was the most wholesome thing they had seen. They were curious to see if you would eventually be comfortable in front of them to shift into your full Leopard form. If that was something you could do.

“I just…I’ve never been to a hybrid clinic before…let alone had a health check, no one cared about it. I’m scared. What if something is wrong with me? I w-won’t be left there right o-or you won’t be disgusted with me at my results?” You fret, biting your lip anxiously as Hoseok ties the hair tie into your hair a little sigh leaves his lips before turning you to face him and shaking his head.

“Sweetpea, we will never ever leave you there, or anywhere for that matter. You’re stuck with us, how terrible right?” He jokes making your lips quirk up a little and playfully roll your eyes before relaxing into his touch as he massages at the base of your ear, a rumble coming from your chest.

“None of us will be disgusted at all okay? Whatever the results will be for your health, we’re all gonna be here to do what we can to help it improve if needs be and be here for you through everything alright? I know it sounds scary. A hybrid clinic and tests but you are in completely safe hands. Seokjin won’t make you do anything you don’t want to alright? I hate the doctors too. Needles are pretty terrifying. I used to pass out every time I needed a flu vaccination. Ironic isn’t it? I see all sorts of things being a detective yet the one thing that scares me isn’t weapons, blood, or bodies but a damn needle but in the end, I know it’s to help me. This is to help you.” He smiles, his heart fluttering hearing the laugh you let out hearing his fear of needles. You appreciated his efforts to calm your nerves.

“Okay, thank you, Hoseokie. You guys won’t leave my side?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sunshine.”

—

Despite Hoseok’s reassurance, you couldn’t help but let your fear grow the closer you got to the clinic. You were terrified at what could be revealed. You knew that none of the outcomes of the appointment will be good. You dread to hear the results because you knew what they were going to say.  ‘You’re broken’.

Time was moving too quickly. You blinked you were in the car, you blinked and you were on the highway, you blinked and you were in the city. Before you knew it you stood right in front of the clinic, staring blankly at the sign. Your hands had gotten clammy. Your heart was palpitating. Your mouth going dry. You absolutely did not want to be here. You were petrified. But you just didn’t know how to say no. It was a foreign word to you. A word that was not allowed in your dictionary. A word that if you used would result in punishment. It was another habit you couldn’t break. You couldn’t say no to them. You couldn’t tell them you weren’t ready for this. That this was just too invasive right now.

Yoongi had picked up on your anxiety almost immediately. Noticing how tense and rigid you had gotten. How you froze in your spot like you had your feet glued to the floor. The distant look in your eyes. He knew right there you weren’t really there. You had disconnected from yourself and the world around you. Your defense mechanism. Your fight or flight.

“Y/N? Little Cub you still with us?” Yoongi questions delicately, slipping his hand into yours and squeezing to try and bring you back to reality. Nothing. You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You hadn’t heard him. He began to grow concerned looking at Jin and Hobi for help. He didn’t know what to do but he did know he wasn’t going to pull you into the clinic in this state. He wasn’t going to make this worse for you.

“She’s dissociated Yoongi. We have to ground her, and take her attention off the cause. Give her your keys. They’re cold and something she can fidget with. Cold things bring them out of this state.” Seokjin states, gently stroking your hair as Hobi tries to blow air onto the back of your neck to break your dissociation. Yoongi roots through his pocket before pulling his keys out and placing them in your hand, watching as the distant look begins to slowly disappear.

Seokjin felt guilty. He should have asked you first, he should have made sure you were comfortable with coming to the clinic. He felt like an idiot. He knew you had trauma yet completely forgot to ensure this wasn’t crossing the line for you.

“Sunshine? Are you back with us? We’re right here. It’s okay, take your time. We’re right here.” Hoseok murmurs watching as you blink and look around, breath slightly heavy, a pink hue appearing on your cheeks as you realize what had happened.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I haven’t done that in a while.” You whisper shyly, fiddling with the keys in your hand. You felt so embarrassed and humiliated. You were waiting to hear a laugh, a snicker, anything but nothing. Yoongi just tilts his head and frowns.

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. It happens. This must be overwhelming for you. If this is too much for you, you do not have to go in there. We can take you home and you can try again another day when you feel ready.” He sighs, the two men next to you nodding in agreement but you huff and shake your head, straightening yourself back up.

“No. I-I’ll be okay. I have to do this. We’re here now right? If not now when?” You say before looking at Hoseok and giving him a small smile.

“This is to help me. As long as you don’t leave my side.” You utter. Hoseok smiles and nods, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“Like I said, Sweetpea. We wouldn’t dream of it.”

And with that, you forced your body to enter the clinic, a vice grip on Yoongi’s hand, his grip just as tight. A reassurance. He was going nowhere.

The smells that hit your nose the moment you stepped into the clinic were terrible. They were so pungent. Rancid, you almost felt nauseous. Illnesses. Chemicals. Sadness. And the worst of all. Death. 

It was so distinctive you couldn’t ignore it even if you tried. It was such a strong horrific scent, it could stick to a person for weeks if it weren’t for scent blockers. Something you’re glad Seokjin had you all take before you left the house. 

It was so putrid. It was a mix of rotting fruits and meat but at the same time, it was chemical-like. Like nail polish remover or ammonia. You had to hold back a gag. If Seokjin was a hybrid you would have asked him how he could put up with it all the time, hours on end.

“You okay Cub?” Yoongi asks as you both follow Seokjin to an examination room, almost chuckling at the scrunched-up look of disgust on your face. He would have laughed but he knew what you were smelling. He had been told about it by a Hybrid friend of his. He felt bad that your heightened sense of smell could be a curse sometimes.

“It smells bad. I really don’t want to sound rude I know people here are sick or you know but it’s so horrid. I could really do with no sense of smell right now. It’s a little nauseating.” You grimace. Hoseok chuckles and nods in agreement,

“I know what you’re on about. I can’t smell it like you can right now but I’ve been around enough bodies to know what kind of smell you’re getting. It’s grim.”

Your conversation is cut off as you enter a room and you tense up seeing a new person. You hadn’t expected to have to interact with anyone else. You thought it would just be Jin doing your tests. It did not help this doctor was not human. She was a hybrid too. Another cat species. Putting two big cats in one room, a lioness, and leopardess at that. It was a bold move.

“Seokjin! Good to see you! I was surprised when you contacted me to health check when you can do it yourself and probably better than me at that! Yoongi, Hoseok it’s been a while.” She grins giving Seokjin a hug then Yoongi and Hoseok. You stare at her almost in annoyance, holding back a growl but an instinct you couldn’t prevent was your hackles going up. Your tail began to bush up and your ears pinned back. You felt irritated by her presence. By her touching them. 

But as quick as it happened it was quick to disappear when you realize how you reacted. You were surprised. Why did you react like that? It wasn’t like they belonged to you. They weren’t your mates. You stop an audible gasp. They couldn’t be, right? But the longer you thought about it the more you realize some of the behaviors you had around them. All seven of them. The way you had to fight the urge to scent them, to nip at where their scent glands would be if they were hybrids. The way you wanted to build a big nest and drag every single one of them into it. At first, you just thought it was because they looked after you. Cared about you, but now it felt like a jigsaw puzzle was being completed. It all made sense now. They were your mates. 

Your racing thoughts were broken when Jin chuckles and gives her a sheepish smile. “I would do the tests but for legal reasons, I cannot. She lives with us. It’d be workplace misconduct. This is Y/N, she’s been living with us for a few weeks now.” 

“Nice to meet you Y/N I’m Dr.Yoon. I’m going to be doing your examination okay? Don’t worry it won’t take long.” She says, grabbing her clipboard as you nod hesitantly, your voice felt stuck in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. You just followed her instructions with much hesitance. She took your weight, your height, and asked your age and other questions but her next requests made your heart drop.

“Okay, we have to take a blood sample and have a look at your cervix etcetera.” 

You turn to look at the boys in fear and Yoongi immediately grabs your hand again and shakes his head. He can’t imagine how much trauma this was bringing back.

“Look at me, look at us. We’re right here Y/N. Right here. It’s okay. It’ll be all over before you know it I promise and then we can go home. You’re safe.” He says sternly as she begins to take your blood sample, keeping you facing him to stop you from looking. Even looking straight in your eyes as she examined your cervix and pelvis, his eyes not straying once, rubbing soothing circles on your hand as Hoseok murmured reassurances and Jin keeps back not wanting to crowd you, and the guilt he felt stopped him from coming near.

 He should have made you aware that this appointment was your choice. That you didn’t have to come here today. He could see you slipping into depression, how you would slightly dissociate before stopping yourself, how you hadn’t uttered a word since entering the room. He shouldn’t have assumed you were okay with this.

“Okay we’re all done here Y/N, your blood results should be back in the next week or so. You can take a minute before leaving. Dr. Kim, Hoseok. Can we step outside? We should talk.” She says lips pursed, nodding her head towards the door. She noticed how you progressively became more of an empty shell. She didn’t want to make you worse with what she had to say.

“Gentlemen. I don’t even know where to begin. This girl has suffered so much. More than I think you guys thought. Her weight is dangerously low for her age and height. Malnourished. She’s way too small, especially for an Amur Leopard. How is her appetite now she lives with you?” She begins a solemn look on her face as Hoseok and Seokjin look at each other before looking back at her.

“Not great now that you mention it. A few mouthfuls that’s it.” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms as she nods and shakes her head. It wasn’t a good sign. Not at all.

“She may have developed an eating disorder, you have to keep a close eye on that. It may be from a diet change or from a change in general but if it doesn’t get better then definitely take formal action. She will get sick. There are many signs of physical and mental abuse. The girl is traumatized. Physically and mentally. Seeing a psychiatrist could really benefit her. I watched each of her reactions, she was terrified, especially when I said I need to take a blood sample and do a vaginal examination. I could smell her terror. When checking her cervix I could see evidence of past sexual assault. Scarring, slight irritation you name it but other than that healthy. I saw nothing that will prevent a heat other than her weight but we will have to wait for the bloods to come back to know for certain. She may not get one for a while. I’ll let you know when I have the results for her bloods but help her, get her through this, and most importantly, Hoseok, find the sons of bitches that did this to her.”

“I plan on it.”

—

Once you got home you were quickly swept up by the youngest two boys who had gotten home having been warned by Seokjin that you weren’t very verbal or doing great mentally. They were at the ready to cheer you up and look after you even going as far as reading what could help a distressed hybrid and discovering a nest could provide comfort, watching tutorials, and rushing to find things to put in it. It wasn’t the best-built nest but it was the thought that counts.

When you were placed in the nest you visibly relaxed, you already felt comforted, safe, and cozy but it felt like something was missing and from your realization earlier you knew what it was. The boys. Your leopard was antsy, practically screaming at you ‘Mates, mates, need mates in nest.’ You didn’t feel ready to fully embrace it yet. It was too much to comprehend. That you had mates. Not just one, but seven. It was daunting. But right now, you were willing to indulge your leopard. Just this once. But how wrong you were. Once they were to enter the nest, you may just get into the habit of wanting them in it constantly. Yeah, you were screwed.

“In. Want in.” You murmur beginning to move around and fix the nest, making it bigger to fit more people in, a pout of concentration on your face. Jungkook and Taehyung’s hearts skip a beat. You look so adorable fixing it and demanding them to get in. They felt a feeling of achievement getting to see you make your first nest, watching you cave to your instincts. But their hearts were pounding. They knew how intimate being invited into a nest was. They knew what it meant after all the videos they watched on nests, giving each other a look. They all needed to talk but right now, they couldn’t deny you. You had them wrapped around your finger.

“You’re inviting us in, Sweet Girl?” Jungkook asks softly, cooing as you look up at him with wide innocent eyes and nod. You were going to be the death of him. With slight hesitation they both climb in and sandwich you between them, allowing you to move them to where you wanted them before you finally snuggle into them, Jungkook chest to chest, your head tucked into the crook of his neck as Taehyung spoons you, rubbing soothingly up your waist, a smile playing at his lips as you begin to purr. You really were beginning to live up to your leopard counterpart now.

“We heard you aren’t doing too good huh Kitten?” Taehyung coos. You huff and shake your head, lifting your head to look at him and pout before looking at Jungkook and whispering,

“Scent? Y/N scent you?” 

He almost chokes on his saliva but nods slowly, eyes widening when you don’t hesitate to nuzzle back into his neck and begin to rub your nose on his neck and nip occasionally, shallow breaths leaving his mouth, frozen in shock before glaring at the amused look on Taehyung’s face. 

‘Stop it. You’d freak out too.’ Jungkook mouths reaching over and flicking Taehyung on the forehead. However, the sudden movement made you whine in protest and he immediately goes back into the position he was in and pouts.

“I’m sorry baby, didn’t mean to upset you, I won’t move again without telling you okay?” He says softly chuckling as you hum in acknowledgment before sighing in contentment, losing your eyes to try and get rid of the thoughts in your head. Despite it only being noon, you were exhausted. The appointment and examination had sucked the life out of you and brought back so many memories and doubts you were trying so hard to bury and forget.

You didn’t feel worthy enough of their affection and care. You felt like you didn’t deserve them. That you weren’t good enough. It felt like you were being selfish and asking for too much to have them in your nest. A whimper leaves your lips, gripping Jungkooks’ t-shirt tight to rid yourself of the thoughts, trying to concentrate on his and Taehyungs’ scents in hopes to ground yourself, squeezing your eyes shut tight as the horrifying voice echoes in your head.

‘You are worthless piece of shit!’

‘You deserve nothing bitch!’

‘What a waste of space and air, why do I even bother keeping you.’

All the abusive words echo through your head on a constant repeat, flashes of the punishments and vile acts you were put through won’t leave, a strangled cry leaving your mouth from frustration and hurt making the boys fuss over you, panicked. You just wanted it to stop. For all the anguish and pain to be erased, to just be happy. Really truthfully happily. There was only so much forcing it you could take. 

“Make it stop. TaeTae, Koo, please make it stop. It hurts. Hurts.”

“Shh Kitten, we’ve got you. You’re gonna be okay, we’re gonna get you through this, you’re safe, nothing can hurt you anymore, this will go, I promise, you’re safe, you’re safe here. Sleep, you need some sleep, we’re not going anywhere.” Taehyung says so delicately afraid that your fragile state would break from the slightest change of tone. He felt like a fool.

For not realizing how much you were really struggling. At how much you were really hiding. How much you had internalized it to hide it from them. He was a fool to that you were going to heal quickly. All the care, safety and love they gave you could only do so much. You had suffered for years. You have had more anguish, pain, abuse than anything. He promised to do better. Too do everything in his power to heal you. Supporting you.

Safe. Safe. I’m safe. You repeat in your head trying to convince yourself, relaxing into their caring touches, finally succumbing to the sleep you were so desperately fighting, the appointment, the crying, the thoughts completely exhausting you.

When the boys know you’re asleep they look at each other sadly, wondering what they should do to make this torturous recovery easier for you, wondering what they do knowing what they know now about being invited into a nest but a voice from the door breaks their stares.

“Is she oka- Oh shit.”

Taglist (CLOSED)

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#little leopard #bts #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #jimin #jungkook #taehyung #bts polyamory #bts poly #polyamorous bts #polyamory bts #poly bts #bts hybrid au #bts strangers to lovers au #hybrid bts #bts x hybrid reader #ot7 bts x reader