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mixtape127 · 12 days

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i dream about you and i ☆

taeyong x gn reader

genre : fluff, non idol au, college kinda au

summary : confessing your feelings is one thing, but the feeling in your stomach is another.

warnings : strong language, mention of panic and anxiety but really slightly because reader is confessing, cuteness overload, no caps, reader smokes and is def simping on sleepy taeyong, not really proofread but i hope there are no errors tho

words : 1k

notes : sorry english isn't my native language so i did my best !! taeyong is leaving for military soon and i can't handle it, so i'm coping with cute content. hope you enjoy ♡ lmk if a part 2 is needed !

the weight of my emotions had been suffocating me for too long, i couldn't bear the burden any longer and finally decided to do it; to confess my feelings. the mere thought of it sent shivers down my spine. my stomach was in knots, and i couldn't tell if the sensation was caused by a swarm of butterflies or my organs colliding against each other. it's a nerve-wracking experience, but i hoped that it would be worth it in the end.

my feet led me to his building. hopefully, his roommate won't be there. i can't imagine the scene and i'm almost sure i would run away if Doyoung opened the door.

i have already smoked three cigarettes in the last 15 minutes.

my heart was pounding so hard that i could feel it in my throat as I looked up at the darkened building in front of me. the streetlights cast a golden glow, painting the surrounding area in a sickly yellow hue. i squinted, trying to make out any signs of life or activity in his apartment, but all i could see was darkness. i know it's 9pm, but come on, don't tell me he's sleeping.

hoping that he is not asleep, i throw away my cigarette and head towards the main entrance. i climb the stairs one by one, my brain emptying little by little with each step. i thought of using the elevator, but i'm almost convinced it would fill the emptiness in my head since there was no music playing in there.

as i walked down the hallway, only hearing the sound of my footsteps echoing on the walls, the nerves in my stomach churned. before i knew it, i was standing in front of his door. my hand trembled slightly as it rose to knock, but i managed to keep it steady. come on y/n.

i knocked my knuckles against the wood apprehensively, but there was no answer. after a few moments of hesitation, i decided to ring the doorbell, hoping that he would hear it and come to the door. i pressed the button lightly, waiting anxiously for a response. and then i realised. he's probably going to open the door, and after that, there is no going back.

i feel like time is dragging on and minutes feel like hours. i even consider turning back, he's probably sleeping or just not there.

as i breathe out and adjust my jacket, the door cracks open, and the apartment is engulfed in darkness. the light from the corridor reveals a slightly disheveled Taeyong, with swollen eyes, indicating that he was probably sleeping. i can't help but think how beautiful he looks.

"y/n? what are you doing here at this hour?" he said in a voice slightly broken by tiredness.

my heart accelerates. "come on, it's not that late, were you sleeping? did i wake you up?"

he shrugged his shoulders. "i was just taking a nap" his fingers fidget with the door he's holding. "but you're making me worried, what's the matter? a problem with Doyoung ?"

no Taeyong, your roommate is not the problem...

i swallow hard, my own thoughts getting stuck in my throat. i feel like a thousand waves of feelings are overflowing my brain. “i have something to tell you but it can wait until tomorrow if you're sleep-..”

what am i even saying? i got up from my comfortable bed, walked over here, and woke him up to tell him that it could wait until tomorrow? love is making me act up for real.

"you've already woken me up, so come in." he smiles. that cute smile. that damn smile.

i come in and put my jacket next to the sofa. Taeyong turns on the little light next to the tv, scratching his head right after, not hiding the loud yawn that escapes from his lips. his t-shirt and shorts whose colours are matched as usual, his lips pouting slightly, his small eyes. i'm down bad.

“tell me everything, do you want something to drink?”

i nod. "it'll be fine ! it won't last long... i..."

all of a sudden, i feel like my saliva is stuck, and i almost choke. Taeyong shoots me a concerned look. "hey, y/n, are you okay? i'm really worried. i feel like you're about to confess to me that you've committed a crime, and i have to help you cover it up." he chuckles.

i take a deep breath and shake my head. my hands are folded together and i'm playing with my thumb anxiously. i stare at my socks as if they could magically give me courage. the reason why i want to confess my feelings to him is because i've grown tired of constantly doubting myself. since this summer - and now that we're in winter - i've been thinking about him non-stop. his smile, his voice, the way he could talk about his fishes all day, or his new shoes and hats, and the way he laughs - everything about him makes me madly in love.

because if he rejects me, i can finally move on.

"Taeyong, i'll get straight to the point. i like you. i have had feelings for you since this summer. i fell in love with you, even though the word seems strong to me and i almost never use it. but that's the case. i know that coming to your place at this hour to tell you this is crazy, but i didn't really think about it that much and just followed my gut. gosh, it sounds so lame..." i smack my forehead, closing my eyes.

all my limbs begin to tremble.

a long silence settles in.

and my breathing jerks.

i keep my eyes closed anxiously.

"so, you... like me?"

his voice echoes softly in the room. i nod slowly, still unable to look him in the eyes.

all i hear is a scoff, followed by his cute laugh. i can't tell if he's genuinely laughing so hard that air gets stuck in his throat or if he's suffocating.

"i was planning on telling you on tuesday after class that i like you." he said with an amused voice.

my eyes widen this time.

"you what ?..."

"i like you."

he smiles.

holy shit.

#taeyong x reader #taeyong x gn reader #taeyong #kpop #nct #the brainrot is real #nct 127 #taeyong lee #taeyong x y/n #kpop x reader #kpop x gn reader #taeyong i'll miss you #fluff #nct fluff #taeyong fluff #too soft to handle for me tbh

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ryssbelle · 1 month

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JD is going to ugly baby cry when he finally finds Clay? Like the overflow of Relief and happiness Will literally turns him into a blabbering mess That only Floyd can understand Because Floyd is the sensitive one.

I haven’t fully decided how the moment would go, there’s a lot of directions but I did decide to kind of do a concept doodle of this scenario, sort of. I was gonna send it with this ask but I think it deserves its own post for how long it is XD but know you were the ask that spawned it. But yeah I have lots of ideas on what could possibly happen, the biggest aspect of it that is subject to change is whether or not Clay is there in what would be this aus version of the Branch Floyd reunion from the movie, and then like what goes with that you know?

I’m more along the idea that Clay would be there, as would most of them, due to the circumstances having changed so drastically that they wouldn’t be separated by a fight, but you never know. This is pretty close tho to some of like my first thoughts, also sorry for taking a literal month to answer again the concepts I made were meant to go with this but I was going through so many drafts I legit just exploded.

The concept doodle will probs be posted tomorrow tho ;D

#Ryss responds #trolls au #n2 au #not the only one au #trolls #I’m just tryna have fun with it #so whichever option is most fun for me in the end is the one I’m going with #there’s a lot of changes to the third movie with how the cards are laid #I’m trying to think of fun ways to spice up the second movie but like tbh #not much really changes #because it doesn’t really have to #there are some fun moments I’ve thought of #like delta would def recognize branch and Floyd if I decide to let Floyd tag along #which changes entirely how lonesome flats plays out #there’s a sax battle I could do if my mystery mouseketool joins along #but then like after it’s pretty much the same lol #which I suppose is fine but you know #there’s also the fact that due to how the trolls movie timeline works if John is in da bottle he’s just missing for a month #then for the world tour #and then a month after #which is something that would become significant since John would be spending more time in troll village after movie one #but yeah lots of things rotating in this brain

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444rockstargf · 8 months

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need facefucking coz that one write has been deep in my mind. i kinda wanna see it with like chris or euro tho. very sloppy and theres like spit bubbles around readers mouth, eyes half lidded and teary with mascara streaming down her cheeks and its so hot and erotic and euro/chris is like "throat hurt?" she nods and hes like "too bad. need to keep using my dumb girls mouth until im satisfied."

this might be more of a euro thing coz chris wouldnt be that mean me thinks....

(be prepared i got another euro request coming in btw lol)

facefucking is my passion.

"mascara running down her little bambi eyes." | euronymous

this is what makes us girls. - lana del rey

reader x euronymous (rory's portrayal)

word count: 610

contents: oral (m receiving), blowjob, throat fucking, cum eating, implied aftercare

you had been a bratty little bitch all day. whining and complaining about every single thing. you’d gone out with euronymous earlier in the day, and you went out of your way to piss him off even more than you already had. he tolerated your attitude all day, acting like if didn’t bother him at all. but as soon as you got back home, he unleashed his anger.

he dragged you into your room and pinned you to the door, his hand on your neck. he was staring daggers at you. “think you can just act up all day and get away with it, huh?” he growled in your ear. you werent don being a brat yet, so you rolled your eyes. that was the last straw.

he pulled you by your hair, you two almost touching noses. “fine. i guess i’ll just have to put that bratty little mouth to good use…” he let go of you. “on your knees. now.” you were excited to see where this was going, so you did as he said. he threw off his belt and pulled out his cock, which was red and seemed to be angry at you.

your mouth gaped open slightly as you looked at it, and he took that opportunity to force the whole thing into your mouth. the tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag. your eyes instantly filled with tears. he smirked as he finally got you to shut up. he grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head up and down at lightning speed.

saliva started bubbling from the sides of your mouth, dripping down your neck and his balls. gagging and gurgling noises could be heard coming from the back of your throat. tears streamed down your face as he shoved every inch of himself into your throat. he smirked as he saw how helpless you were.

“throat starting to hurt? good. talk shit now, bitch.” he chuckled as he rammed into your throat repeatedly. your brows knitted together as you felt his precum hitting the back of your throat. you could hear the sound of your throat being stretched out. your spit was streaming down your chin all the way down to your cleavage.

euronymous’ attention shifted from you to how good it felt to use you like this. he loved you to death, but he liked you even more when your mouth was filled up. you were still gagging at his size, but he felt no sympathy for you whatsoever. “yeah… take it, whore.” his words were cut off by a low groan,

black streams were running down your cheeks. you were a complete mess. he put a hand on your neck, feeling as your throat moved from his cock breaking into it. it started throbbing in your mouth, and before you knew it, your throat and mouth were completely flooded with his cum.

there was so much, it felt like you were going to overflow. it leaked out of your mouth, the hot liquid going down your throat quickly. he slapped your cheek with his cock. “swallow it.” you swallowed every last drop, sticking out your tongue to show him that you had obeyed his command.

he smiled a little, still panting. he sat on the bed and lit himself a cigarette, gesturing for you to join him. you sat on his lap and he started gently kissing your neck. “i’ll run to the pharmacist tomorrow to get you some lozenges.” he blew out a ribbon of smoke. it wasn’t much for aftercare, but considering how hostile he usually was, you knew that you’d done good enough.

author's note: i've got a few more requests left in my drafts. thank you all for being so patient with me!!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #euronymous #lords of chaos #lana del rey #444rockstargf

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (part 7)

Summary: Time at Dragonstone leads to tense encounters. (Wc: 5k)

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader (y’all know the drill tho)

A/N: we are finally in dragonstone! Yay??? Lmao it’s about to get a little bumpy for reader now that she’s in the dragon’s den if you will. But I’m excited to explore team black’s dynamic. Or at least I think the dynamic would be since we really did not get that in the show. Also as our fab five (the nickname I have for fmo reader, Aemond, Aegon, Helaena, and quinton) are separated, I will be going back and forth between dragonstone and king’s landing. So we are gonna get lots of different povs which is fun

Fmo masterlist

But at last, the year of 129 AC would be one of great change for the House of the Dragon. Marked with death, triumph, and long simmering tensions boiling to the surface.

Many say the first turning of the tide was the departure of Prince Aemond Targaryen’s lady wife to Dragonstone… without him at her side. Speculation stirred around why she left; tongues ever wagging in court. Some say that it was an innocent as the young, and sprite Daella Targaryen insisting to see her ancestral home. Others had a more salacious take.

Gossip about a rift in the family swirled. One of the more of the inappropriate rumors was that youngest child of Prince Aemond was not actually his, but instead the illegitimate child of his lady wife and his brother Prince Aegon. Mushroom tells a story of the kind Queen Alicent sending away her good daughter in a fit of rage after finding out the truth. Many disputed this, nonetheless. Some claim the departure to Dragonstone was of Prince Daemon‘s demand. Court alight with the drivel of the Rogue Prince’s sexual proclivities. Talk of him and the Princess taking a special liking to Aemond’s lady wife. In more ways than one.

A more likely explanation came from Setpton Eustace. He emphasizes the smart and cunning nature of the family Aemond’s lady wife came from. Recounting that getting close to Princess Rhaenyra was just one step in a plan to landing marriage prospects for the little princess and princeling. It was said by Eustace that this angered Prince Aemond. His ire towards his sister and her family well documented.

Regardless of why she left, it was clear that family dynamics were bound to change. Whispers of a weakened house beginning to mount across the small folk. One prophet pushed the notion of the House of the Dragon being in grave trouble.

What would come in the follow years could only be explained by the Targaryen house words - Fire and Blood.

Eventually you get used to the smell of Dragonstone. In a way, it is no worse than the one that inhabits the Red Keep; just different. If you think about the smell too much, it makes you long for home. Your real one. The one that is clean, and warm. Nothing like the places you find yourself in now. At least at the Red Keep, you could facilitate a sense of domesticity with redecorating. At the Dragonstone, you are forced to stare at grey walls, and squint through dim lighting no matter how many candles are lit.

The stories you heard of Dragonstone were overflowing with fondness and reverence. Viserys was open about his love for place. You don’t know if it is the lack of Targaryen blood or if it really is just an ugly old castle.

Despite your feelings towards it, Daella had made her peace with everything. She is adaptable in the way most children are, wholly excited to be doing something different while somewhere different. Her interest in dragons only growing stronger. The high Valyrian lessons continuing. It was hard to complain if she was happy. Though her fascination with Daemon makes you pause.

You try not to think too much into it. She is at the age where everyone is interesting, including the new dragon riders around her. He must pick up on your skepticism. The head tilt and wry grin he gives you when you insist on sitting in on anything that involves her.

Quinton sticks to your side with heavy proclivity. The only time you can get away from everyone at Dragonstone was walks on the beach. It was your favorite part of the Island. The salty water of the Blackwater Bay cleared your head.

A close second of places your frequent being the Sept. There was something haunting about it. While the one in the Red Keep and in King’s Landing were grand and open. The one on Dragonstone was closed in. Just you and the statues of the Faith. Many say it is bad luck to stare at the statues of the Stranger for too long. Looking at the face of death apparently bringing bad luck. But all you can do is stare. The masts sculpture looks more animal than man.

You have accepted your fate by now. Those who go against the grain must be prepared for every option. You try to make the Stranger a familiar friend rather than foe. You memorize his face and pray for the day it does not scare you.

Helaena’s ears may be just as good as her eyes. Listening is a special trait, her mother would say.

It was supposed to be helpful. A teasing remark to help Helaena feel more comfortable about her dreams; the ones that her mother will never understand. It only made Helaena feel more isolated. Aegon would roll his eyes at the remark, and Aemond would just look curiously. Like the way she looks at her bugs. Trying to inspect and take in everything while knowing she will never truly know what it means to be them.

But Helaena does see and hear all. With the other personalities that inhabit the Red Keep, her family, it is easy to slip into the background. Easy to observe and wait till she knows what she wants to say. Your introduction into Helaena’s life had forced her to be seen. You weren’t there for anyone else, at least not in the beginning; just for Helaena. She soaked up that attention in a way that makes her crazy sometimes. The spiraling feeling, she got when she first met you reentering while you are away. She is back to being silent… invisible. A little mad.

She wonders if you would ever forgive her if you found out she was the one that brought up the prospect of you marrying Aemond. It was good thought in theory. Helaena saw how anxious you became over your parents’ insistence to start taking marriage offers seriously. At least if you were at the Red Keep, the two of you would be together. You would a part of the most powerful family in the Seven Kingdoms, and mother to dragon riders. It seemed like a no brainer to hint at it to her grandsire, who later convinced her mother.

She could delude herself into thinking it would work.

Daughters always secretly fear becoming their mothers. Following in cycles that feel like they will never be broken. She never felt more like Alicent when she watched you get married. She woke up that morning with the same floaty feeling she gets before a dream, except the dream did not come that day. But feeling lingered the whole day, and into the feast that night.

The dream finally comes years later. Dark hair, green eyes, red lips pulled into an attractive smile. She never told you; she never told anyone about that initial vision. Finding the words for what she sees has always been difficult. Even after moons of experiencing them, she still cannot predict how bad everything can be till it is going to shit in front of her. It makes her extra cautious to speak on them.

Perhaps it would have been better for you to be long away from the Red Keep married to some lord. Helaena likes to think she is better than Aegon and Aemond, and she is in many ways. But one thing they all share is their ability to be selfish when they want something. Love transforms that into an even nastier ordeal.

It is why Helaena is not surprised when Aegon began to follow you around like a kitten that wants its mother. She knew it was a matter of time before Aegon grew painfully attached to someone. Deepest of feelings often sprout from aching, wounds inside.

Though the reciprocation of feelings, whatever they may be on your part, did make Helaena pause. It was too easy to see what everything was in beginning. Men will always bend to the whims of their desires. And being desirable is a trait you wield so simply. But time has passed, masks have been dropped, and now the visions become blurred.

Helaena is not sure of your endgame anymore. She’s not sure even you know. If it was to send her and her siblings into a state of uneasiness, then you had succeeded wonderfully.

One day, she finds Aegon laying flat on his back on the balcony of the room they share. Eyes shut, and limbs laid out like a starfish. It was a rare, blindly sunny day in King’s Landing. The bright lighting only made his bags more pronounce. She was sure he had been laying there since the morning, right after the letter from you came in. The single letter for Helaena. She noticed how Aegon’s face fell.

She doesn’t see Aemond these days. Flashes of hair and leather catching her eye as he goes to his chambers or to the dragon pit. And when he is around, he is short and curt. More distant than normal. A claim she did not think was possible.

Oddly enough, the only person not on edge is their mother. Alicent seems to be floating around. Lighter than Helaena had seen her in years. She knows it is because of her half-sister. Alicent had scurried away, half smile on her face when a letter came for her.

Watching her mother in pain and sadness twisted parts in Helaena that she did know existed. Seeing Alicent happy, even in all its ephemeral glory, was worth taking and pushing down the floaty feeling in Helaena’s head.

She fears the dream will be too late again. Something is coming, and none of them are ready. They never are.

Before you left, Otto had given you a list of things to accomplish while at Dragonstone. Some things more realistic than others.

Get close to Rhaenyra.

You would be lying if you didn’t admit that she was a fascinating figure. A looming presence over everyone at King’s Landing despite never being around.

You have watched Helaena’s face fall when Viserys calls her Rhaenyra. Or notice Aegon’s eyes glaze over when Otto reprimands him about acting like a proper prince. You have helped Aemond remove the sapphire from his eye socket more times than you’d like to. Alicent’s whole demeanor changes at the sound of her name. All paths lead back Viserys’s first born.

And the most interesting part is that you do not think she even notices. It makes sense; of course, a princess and named heir would not fret over being the center of attention. She was born and bred to think she was important. More important than others.

“I thought you would like some water,” you bring out a pitcher to the outdoor area.

Rhaenyra’s head was leaning back against the chair, eyes shut, and one hand on her protruding belly. She opens her eyes softly, deep Iris saturated in calmness. Fresh air was always nice during this stage in the pregnancy. Took the mind off the uncomfortable feeling that begins to mount.

As you sit beside her, you notice the dark speck flying in the distance. Just based off the slightly bigger body of the dragon, you assume it is Jace on Vermax.

“Despite the invitation,” she begins softly. “I was worried about you coming here. Well, more worried about what you may have heard about me.”

Rhaenyra takes a sip of the water, and you notice the slight beads of sweat on her forehead.

“What do you mean Princess?”

Rhaenyra smiles, strained. “I am sure Aemond had mentioned me, mentioned my children in a less than glowing light. He still blames me for their mistake.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Often you felt like people expected you to speak on what happened to Aemond. A traumatic event that happened before your family even came to the Red Keep. While Aegon, Alicent, and Helaena recount the story in distaste and anger on Aemond’s behalf. Rhaenyra seems to brush it off as a moment of bad judgement by her son. The truth lies somewhere in the middle.

“Excuse my bluntness, but Aemond does not speak of you,” it was the truth. He was the one directly changed by whole ordeal, and you could tell by the way he avoided mentioning his sister at all costs.

Rhaenyra nods slowly. She seems not to believe you.

“But I am glad that I am here,” you try to shift the conversation. “Daella enjoys being here as well.”

While Daella had embraced the new scenery, Alaric’s attitude seemed to shift. A normally quiet baby seemingly on the verge of tears at every moment.

“I saw the egg she brought with her; it hasn’t hatched yet?”

The question takes you by surprise. Aemond had been adamant about both kids getting eggs in their cradle, the way he never did. You shake your head no. The deep green egg of Daella’s remained intact.

“I’m sure it will happen soon, or perhaps she will be like her father and claim one,” she says reassuringly. Except you do not need that reassurance. It sounds horrible, but a new dragon is the last thing you want to be worried about right now. But there is a sense that her not having one soon would be some sort of inditement on her.

You have seen the way Rhaena frets over it and have heard about the way Aemond did. You would hate to think your daughter felt like her worth was affected over a dragon. That having an unruly creature on her side will make her more valuable.

“But will it change anything,” you question. “Whether she does or does not any time soon. I know dragons are supposed to symbolize being closer to the Gods but does it really. Especially as a young girl?”

Rhaenyra’s brown furrow, pretty face pulled into deep thought. It is something she has thought about.

“No, I guess not,” she begins to pick at her rings. “At least not for me. I used to think that having Syrax meant that I was special, and because of that I would be valued more. Even compared to certain men in my life. That being named heir meant I would not have to go through certain things. In a way, I did not; my life has been different from other noble women. It will be different from other women. But I am also aware that nothing I do will ever make up for what is between my legs. Having a dragon does not change that for me. It unfortunately will not for Daella.”

Her candidness takes you by surprise. You can tell it is something that haunts her so deeply. For the first time, you feel sad for Rhaenyra. She is trapped in the same cycle you all are. Getting entangled in the same game but being the ones punished for it. The only difference is that she may eventually have the power to change it. If she will be is up for debate.

“It does not change the way the men in your family look at you, even the ones closest to you,” the words tumble out of your mouth. The flood gates that seem to open with Rhaenyra shut quickly.

The slight accusation towards Daemon or Viserys makes her back stiff. You must bite your tongue to say the next thing you are thinking. Even Targaryen women must fear those around them. The system will never be even.

———

Group dinners had become a necessary annoyance while being at Dragonstone. Some nights were you able to eat earlier when the younger kids do. Daella and you locked away in the apartments. But most nights you were all but obligated to entertain the drivel that Daemon and Rhaenyra could come up with.

After your tense conversation with Rhaenyra, you felt even more anxious about breaking bread. If there the tension was noticeable, Daemon did nothing to try and make dinner as peaceful as possible.

“Perhaps our guest can give the girls some advice on married life,” Daemon finally pipes up. Slick smile on his face, as looks around the table. “What to do… what not to do.”

Cunt.

Your eyes drift to Rhaenyra, who sits at his side silent; lilac eyes on the plate in front of her. She seems to do that a lot whenever Daemon takes over a conversation. Either goes along with whatever point Daemon is trying to make or shrinks into herself in the worst way. It is nothing like you have seen from Rhaenyra when she is outside of this dynamic.

“You have been married three times; I am sure you have ample experience to help your daughters.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flicker up at that, eyeing her husband. The table is silent before Daemon lets out a bark of laughter. Head thrown back as if it is the funniest thing he has ever heard. Rhaena shifts in her seat next to you, clearly uncomfortable by the scene in front of her.

Baela looks pissed, while Jace looks embarrassed by the whole ordeal. Funnily enough, the only person who can meet your eyes is Lucerys. A curious look in his big eyes. A warning in his eyes.

“And wit to match,” Daemon grins, a deep glimmer in his eyes.

It is the same amused look that Daemon gave Aemond at dinner moons ago. Daemon, who wants to be constantly entertained, would find Aemond what said and did, thrilling. Dispute the fact that the targets of Aemond’s ire were now his sons. Men like Daemon never truly settle down, and they never put their needs above others. They seek out the gallant behavior in others that they can no longer drum up themselves.

Aemond is all the youth and virility that comes with Targaryen blood. Daemon would find him compelling. More compelling than he has found a member of his family in a long time.

Rhaenyra has been sobered by motherhood, and the pending passing of the throne. The weight of the world changing the way she looks at everything. Gone is the young girl with little care in the world. Gone is the flush of youth that more than likely endured her to not only Daemon, but to others.

Daemon is someone is who thrives off making everyone else in the room pause. The Rogue Prince who wants all to stop and wonder what his next move will be. To let Daemon catch you on the back foot is a sign of weakness. He talks the way he spars. Fluid yet full of surprises.

Rhaenyra looks at her husband with an incredulous look. Then looks back at you with a scowl.

“I am tired,” she mutters, working her way out of seat slowly. Daemon makes little effort to help his pregnant wife. Jace instead gets up to help. Seeing it as an out - Luke, Baela, and Rhaena all get up as well.

Daemon and you stay seated for a moment. He gives you that same grin you have come accustomed to by now.

“You know I think I might have judged you prematurely.”

You raise a brow in efforts to get him to explain what he means by that, but it never comes. He gets up from the table leaving you alone. Rhaenyra’s frown plays in your head. At least you can see that your marriage is not the only fragile one.

It did not take you long to see something is deeply wrong with Lucerys Velaryon. Every thought you had about him was based on the less than promising things you had heard during your time in the Red Keep. And of course, the constant reminder on Aemond’s face.

The skepticism was right, but not for the reasons you assumed it would be. Luke, at a horribly young age, picked up a knife and did something that even the most morbid and seasoned of warriors would hesitate to do. Something is wrong with him the way something is wrong with Aemond.

There is something invisible holding everyone together, and you are sure that imaginary thing broke in Aemond and Lucerys that night at Driftmark. While Aemond was fine leaving the damage on floor till it crept up on him, Luke seems to be spending his life desperately trying to pick up those pieces. But it won’t happen without true remorse. Healing without an apology is not possible. So now, two broken people exist in constant fear.

It makes him dangerous in a way you did not expect. A flighty, anxious eye taker. The irony.

———

“Harrenhal is said to be a cursed place.”

The voice sends a bit of a chills down Luke’s spine. He turns to see you leaning against the study door, wine in hand. Bright eyes full of mirth. You point to the book in his hand.

“We have that book back at the castle,” you point at the one in his hand, as you walk into the room. “An… interesting read.”

The two of you had not been in the same room alone before; it sends Luke’s brain into overdrive. He has to remind himself that he had no reason to be nervous. You were here as a reprieve, at least that is what his mother said. And he always trusts his mother. Even when she has given them reason not to. Under all the splendor and false hope, he knows she means well.

Baela and Rhaena have fully embraced you being at Dragonstone, and Luke trusts them as well. His brother gets embarrassing moony eyed when you are around. He tries to be respectful of his betrothed, but Baela seems to pay it no mind. In fact, Luke believes she is relieved your presence takes attention away from the decision made at the Red Keep. He understands her apprehension.

But Luke has always followed Jace’s lead; he tries to do the same now with you.

“She is harmless, brother.”

Luke highly doubts that. This family does not toil with the feelings or thoughts of those seen as harmless. Harmless people get crushed under the weight of it all. Those to be feared or micromanaged get invited in. Told to sink or swim.

He wakes up every day and reminds himself he has no reason to be worried about the future. He is a Targaryen. He will not be casted out. He will not be crushed.

You lean over him to get a better view of the book, and he gets a whiff of helichrysum and sage. One hand on the table, the other on the back of his chair. Luke blinks rapidly at the page, not daring to look away from the book.

“Blood mixed into the mortar,” you whisper. “I wonder if the horrors within towers and walls truly haunt the houses who stake claim to it.”

Luke feels like he might throw up.

He finally dared to turn, and he sees the side of your face illuminated by the fire the room. Your face as calm as it is unsettling. Like the silver and red spiders that inhabit Dragonstone. The first time they all came back there, after his mother and Daemon had married, he thinks back to finding one on the lapel of his red suit coat. The scream he let out was blood curdling. He remembers the strange look Daemon gave to him. He gives that look a lot. Perplexed and annoyed.

Luke was sure Daemon disliked him for the same reasons Daemon dislikes a lot of people. He does not live up to the expectations Daemon has. Or maybe Daemon had no expectations, the dissatisfaction lies in Luke showing him exactly what he anticipated

But no man would marry his daughter off to someone he saw no use in…. right?

“I heard you like to draw,” you change the subject easily.

Like nods slowly, feeling embarrassed that Rhaena or her mother probably brought it up to you. They tend to gush about the most minute things to make him feel comfortable.

“I am so envious of people who have artistic talent,” you sigh wistfully. “Maybe you can teach me?”

Being alone with you is the last thing Luke wanted, but even then, he finds himself nodding again a bit entranced by the whole situation happened before him. You smile bright before turning to leave.

Luke lays his head down on the cool table to let out a shaky breath. Gods be good.

When Quinton joined the kingsgaurd, his mother cried.

Full on chest sobs, and hyperventilation. The whole scene was… a lot.

In beginning he was sure it was out of fear, now all of her children were away. Both of her sons, taking of a lifelong oath and her only daughter married and far from her family. It was not till her mother calmed down that he realized it was because she expected grandchildren from them. He had laughed at that being the thing she was most heartbroken about. They had joined the most honored spots in Seven Kingdoms, and the pitter patter of feet is what she wanted.

He never thought about children. He has accepted kids were not going to be a part of his life, for better or for worse. That was until he became your protector.

Life is funny in that way. Never letting someone find solid ground. Once you are sure of something, it will be taken away. Your introduction in his life flipped things upside down. Protecting the family was ironically easier to do what real emotions were not involved. When he did not have to question ever person met with, and how they could harm you.

Now he at a dragon castle, utterly confused. Why would any want to harm you begin with?

“I need my own master of whisperers while here,” you said lowkey as you bounced a babbling Alaric in your arms. “People who have been at Dragonstone for longer than us.”

All Quinton can do is give you a look. You know it well. It says it that really a good idea. You roll your eyes in response.

“Loyalties can be tested and broken, just look at Jayne,” you say sourly. “Not everyone here will be completely loyal to Rhaenyra or Daemon, and perhaps they will know something that can help us. Someone unassuming.”

You make a funny face at Alaric, whispering things in a baby voice at him.

“And I know exactly who can help.”

Your eyes go from Alaric, and they flash to the corner of the large room. A young boy with shaggy blonde hair, and a freckled face stands awkwardly in the corner.

“He is just a boy,” Quinton says confused. You grin at him slyly.

“Exactly,” you go to stand up, shifting Alaric in your arms. “Hold him for me.”

Before he can oppose, you place your child in his arms. Quinton just sat there stiffly. Alaric squirms, and he fears that the crying will start again. He tries to bounce him the way you do but he is sure it is no use. Nothing is compares to the embrace of a mother.

As much as the name gesture warmed him heart, being around kids is something he had to get used to. He often had to remind himself that they were half you.

Half spawn of Aemond, but also half you. The prayer is that the good part you instilled in them will outweigh whatever part their useless father put in them. Plus raising children is hard. His mother used to say that it was like cooking. Sometimes your stew would come out perfect. Other times you would just have grimace and eat through the bad taste. Not the best comparison for a young boy to hear, but he understood.

Quinton looks up to see you laughing at something the young boy said. His big blue eyes staring at you in slight awe. It is clear the young lad doesn’t speak to women outside his mother, the wife of a lord her at Dragonstone, often.

The effect you have on people is easy to see, and lately Quinton sees how quickly you are to use it. He supposes he can’t blame you for exploiting the nature of those around you. He can only hope that the side you show him is the full one.

Daella runs into the great hall area to you, an exhausted maidservant following behind. Daella’s short legs can barely keep up with herself. He watches you pick her up watching amused as she explains something exuberantly. Alaric begins to whine. Big lilac eyes filling with tears. This place disturbs him he thinks.

This place disturbs Quinton too.

———

As sun begins to set on over the mountains and castle, a soft breeze carries in the wind through each crevice and dip.

Inside the dragonmount, a low grumble spreads through the walls. Large tan wings spread out to their full, and withered yellow eyes blink into the darkness. A familiar warmth spreading through the large dragon.

The Bronze Fury feeling a presence he has not in years.

I’ve been seriously slacking on the Taglist so I’m sorry for that but here are people I remembered asking. Sorry if I miss anyone: @voniikg @afro-hispwriter @florent1s @crispmarshmallow @tremendouswolfsaladranch @strawbrryquinn @widemiffyhappy @msmarvel-19 @dc-marvel-girl96 @xkennobi @fanfics4ever @hydrationqueensworld @lyra689 @blazzlynch @httyd-marauders @bregarc @b00kdiary @grey-water-colors @mercedesdecorazon @flowerpotmage @bstorn @poisonedsultana @papery-maniac @its-sam-allgood @yu3kkii @hvx @leoramage @neenieweenie @stargaryenx @rey26 @lazypinkpig @blackravena @s0urmarvel @elleclairez @rebelfleur22 @inpraizeof @luvremlu @clora95 @blacpiink @let-love-bleeds-red @iwanttohitmyself @alastorhazbin @kitkat-writes-stuff @carriellie @aloneatpeace @ensolleildelune @landlockedmermaid77

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x oc #hotd imagine #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond imagine #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!oc #prince aemond targaryen

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inkykeiji · 1 year

Note

tomura’s the type to buy his princess a squishmellow but still get jealous over a stuffed animal lmao i love him

LITERALLYYYYY LMAO no he so is tho like 100%. he’d be like, begrudgingly excited about it at first; your favourite holiday is coming up, which means that the company just released their newest line of limited edition squishes, and you’re practically vibrating with desperation to own one.

the department store is busy, and you’re unbelievably indecisive, humming and hushing as you bounce from one stuffie, to the next, to the next, then back again, dragging him along with you.

with a furrowed brow and a steady stream of breathy grumbles, he’s trying to act so annoyed and so exasperated and so grumpy but you are just so fucking cute—eyes glittering and smile dazzling with one of your hands wrapped tightly around his wrist as the other reaches, fingers curling and vying in a little grabby hand that grasps at all of the different plushies, each procuring a sweet little gasp or giggle—that he just can’t quell the love tugging at the corners of his mouth or the adoration melting his glare or the fondness smoothing out his crunched forehead.

it‘s a treat to see you like this, innocent and authentic with buzzing excitement that thrums through your veins and radiates off your skin in delicate little droves, infectious as it seeps into his own and snuggles into his soul, warming his core. teeth sunk into your bottom lip, hesitancies are gnawed out in a self-conscious murmur, and tomura frowns, giving a little yank on your arm and scanning the toys warily.

“i don’t understand what the problem is.”

“i just—i can’t decide! i want to get the best one, my favourite one, but i just—” turning towards him, your eyes are wide with worry, forehead creasing under the concern of making the wrong choice. “i want them all!”

tomura sighs, rolls his eyes like you’re so silly, so stupid, but that fondness is back again, tender and warm and doting as it spreads unruly across his cheeks, ruby gaze syrupy with affection.

“then i will get them all for you,” he says, simple and final.

and so, he does.

you’re still cute afterward, of course, when you’re cuddling one of the stupid things to your chest, palm rhythmically petting it’s tummy, or when you’re giggling and whispering to yourself as you hug it tighter to your sweet lil heart, lips spilling secrets and hopes and dreams into silky plush. but no matter how cute you are, tomura is unable to soothe the twinge in his chest as envy drags it’s claws slowly, steadily, almost gently down the inside of his ribcage. it’s never long before the sting becomes unbearable, before the sting has him ripping the dumb squishmallow from your hands and replacing it with himself, arms wrapped firmly around your form, your body pressed hard against his chest, lips grumbling low and rough into your hair about how he feels left out and he missed you and isn’t he a much better cuddle buddy than that foolish little stuffed animal?

of course, you’re telling him as soft palms stroke his forearms and sweet lips scatter precious kisses across his collarbone. of course he is; he always is, he always will be.

and yet, despite all of it, he repeats this process every single time a new limited edition line-up is released that he’s sure you just have to own. because even though he dreads the bitter jealousy he knows will inevitably begin corroding his lungs the moment the two of you arrive home, it is nothing compared to the sunshine that pours from your smile when you gaze upon these silly little puffs of plush, or the bubbles of warmth that froth in your throat and out your mouth when you coddle one in your arms, or the look you give him when he gifts you another one, eyes overflowing with pure, unadulterated love, so much so it scalds his skin and singes his envy, snuffs out all of those acrid feelings and replaces them with a tender heat that glows pleasantly in your presence.

and that, well, that will always be worth it.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki tomura fluff #WAAAAAAH ANON I JUST #IM SCREAMING he’s so CUTE!!!!!#yes yes i agree 100% anon #this is unedited and just kinda spilled from my brain but!!! i hope u enjoy it hehe #have a wonderful day sweetpea and stay safe n hydrated!!#inky.bb #clari gets mail

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jqnehr · 3 months

Text

les améthystes du ciel | neuvillette — part 12

two individuals under pressure to marry. one has the hydro archon on his back, and the other has her matchmaking friend pushing her along. when the two meet at a ball, and both in dire need of peace from two meddlesome females, what better arrangement is there than their own betrothal?

pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader warnings : angst, mentions of murder, reader's getting ready have another panic attack (you're ok tho), slightly suggestive, FLUFF, this is sfw. word count : 3.6k note : short, but uh...🤭 and I DID say I'd post this later this week but...SURPRISE!! haha, motivation came at the right time <3

! not proof read

! do not copy, redistribute, translate, or use my work with or without credit in any way. thank you.

part eleven ⋮ masterlist ⋮ part thirteen

ao3 ⋮ playlist

...

“Do you mean to say that all these years…” After a moment of silence of you trying not to collapse or throw up or yell, you finally manage out your next words in an icily calm, quiet voice. “You have been secretly investigating his whereabouts without my knowing?”

“Look, I know how this would sound…” A desperate gleam enters Navia’s eyes—a gleam you recognise to convey that someone has just discovered how much they’ve messed up. The panic in her eyes is practically overflowing. “But I’ve been doing it to gather evidence and get you the justice you deserve. I’ve been tracking him! The Spina di Rosula is a private investigation branch, and this is what I do! And as your best friend—”

“Did I not tell you, very explicitly, that I want no one I know to have anything to do with him?” The trauma has now been triggered, and you’re finding it hard not to curl up into a ball from the memories flooding in. Great. I’m going to have another panic attack if this keeps up. “When he escaped, I knew that it would end as a cold case. You told me that you would respect my wishes, Navia.” Tears well up, but you fight them back. “And why did you choose to tell me now, here? At a tea party when the marriage I never wanted was just announced?!”

The entire garden goes silent, every head turned your way. You blink, your bones freezing to ice, wide eyes surveying the yard. Oh, archons. What have I done?

“As you were, everyone.” Maybe he should be wearing a hero’s cape from the sheer relief you feel upon hearing Neuvillette’s smooth, calm voice filter throughout the area. He nods to the crowd as he makes his way over to you both. His eyes hold no anger or shock at your outburst, only concern. “Is everything alright?”

“We’re fine—”

“[Name], you should tell him.”

“What? No!” Your fists, balled at your sides, tremble with panic and fear. “He doesn’t need to know. Neuvillette, it’s fine, really—everything’s fine.”

Taking the sheer embarrassment in stride, the three of you make your way up the steps, the Baroness leading you to a small room for you to speak privately in, the woman’s kind face lined with concern. You catch the questioning glances from Furina and Wriothesley before the door closes behind you.

“…Let’s take this inside.” His hand is now at your elbow, grip gentle, unobtrusive—but you flinch away before your wits can tell you otherwise. His eyes widen a fraction, hurt flashing within them—before understanding softens the blow. “[Name]. Don’t you think it’d be best to head indoors and discuss this there?”

Even though the guests obeyed the Chief Justice and went back to their conversations, people are still staring; the seemingly fanatic wife of the Iudex and how she just denied her husband’s touch now the topic of their conversation. Sick to your stomach, you inhale a deep breath and nod. “Yes. Let’s.”

“[Name], the only way that I can be of any help is to tell me whatever is troubling you,” are the first gentle words Neuvillette spears you with once the three of you are alone. His eyes are of that soft amaranth hue again; so understanding, and it frustrates you. “You’re under no obligation to do so, however, but I really do want to help you.”

“Neuvillette, this isn’t something someone, such as yourself, who is already burdened with such difficulties which far outweigh mine in terms of struggle—”

“Oh, cut the rot, [Name].” Navia flicks your forehead, and you softly yelp. She only ever does that to you when she believes you’re being particularly stupid. “Stop downplaying and invalidating your own hurt. If you don’t tell him, then I will.”

You gave Neuvillette a brief glance, seeing his lilac eyes trained on you unwaveringly, waiting for you to continue. “Okay, fine. I was engaged to a man five years ago until he tried to kill me. That’s the short version and I am not—” You whip your head around to shoot a narrow-eyed, warning glare at Navia. “—Going into detail at present.”

“That’s all I need to know.” It truly is, if the quick wash of rage drenching him at your clipped words says anything. Rage for whoever the coward was for even daring to harm even a single hair on your head. However, Neuvillette keeps his expression calm and posture as relaxed as he can. He doesn’t want to worry or—even worse—scare you. His right fist clenches into a tight ball at his side, the material of his glove only barely keeping his nails from piercing the skin of his palm. The pain does not ease or bother him. “Were you two discussing this man’s whereabouts?”

“Yes, I just reported to [Name] that the man is dead,” Navia promptly replies before you can butt in. “It’s a true shame we weren’t able to bring him to court and have him locked away forever.”

I can think of a few more things to inflict upon him, other than a sentence. Things that involve a lot of bruises and broken bones. Neuvillette keeps his dark thoughts to himself. “Very much so. But, why are you distressed over such news, [Name]?” Don’t tell me you still love him.

“Because I specifically told the ones who helped me rehabilitate to not bother chasing after him.” Neuvillette observes how shadowed your expression becomes, eyes at your feet. “You’d never catch him. He had too many connections. And it’d put everyone in needless danger.” If you both were closer, maybe he’d have been able to embrace and comfort you, like how his hand is itching to do right now. The haunted look in your eyes mirrors murky skies on a stormy day—like how the clouds are drawing into one another and looming overhead at present. She says five years. She says she rehabilitated. It seems more like five years of continual, lonely torture.

“And although I won’t deny I’m glad he’s finally gone, I don’t appreciate Navia here going back on her word—and, not only that, but leaving me in the dark until the worst possible moment. Didn’t the thought of waiting until later when I wouldn’t be under such stress enter your head?”

“After today, I won’t be able to see you for the next week,” Navia shoots back. “And by then, it’ll be far too late! No time like the present, and I think it’s something you need to know immediately.”

“Agreed.” Neuvillette barely keeps himself from wincing at the scathing look you turn your head to give him. Your mouth is open and ready to pour forth protests, but his hand on your shoulder silences you. “If you’re worried about public opinion, don’t be. Causing a fuss could in fact prove advantageous to this marriage…ending.” He doesn’t know why he suddenly hesitated at the word ‘ending’.

You don’t appear to notice. “Well, if you put it that way…but! The factor still stands, Navia.” Maybe your frayed nerves are making you overreact, but you’re feeling pretty affronted right now. Besides, it’s your past and your emotions. And they are valid. “I’d rather not embarrass myself in front of forty-or-so people and the Iudex.”

You heave a sigh and turn to Neuvillette. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

“You’ve nothing to be ashamed about,” Neuvillette says, voice soft. “It would be a shock to anyone. Would you like to head back to the Palais?”

You mull his suggestion over for a moment, chewing on your lower lip. “Well…what do you think would be best?”

“I think you need to rest and think for a bit,” he replies. “Process the news you just received. Navia?”

“I agree.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Don’t bother with Furina and her antics today. Go on home and chill.”

“I must go, also.” Navia turns to glance at the nearby grandfather clock, the time reading 4:11PM. “André’s death isn’t going to investigate itself, is it? See you!” She rushes out at the look in your face, the door slamming shut behind her, the two of you left alone.

With the main source of energy gone, fatigue embraces you. “Let me take your arm, Neuvillette. I’m about to fall asleep.”

He chuckles, and you feel the vibration against you as he allows you to lean against him. You flood with heat at the sensation, and you don’t know why. Instead of taking your arm, he wraps his right one around you, holding you close. “Shall I carry you bridal-style out of this estate, just to give everyone a show?”

Neuvillette’s cheek is pressed against the left side of your head, warm breath fanning lightly over your ear and sending delightful shivers down your spine. Your own breath hitches; you turn your head to stare up at him. Intense amethyst-hued eyes peer into yours playfully, amusement dancing along his irises. You huff out a laugh, pulse pounding at his proximity, pressing your cheek against his shoulder impishly. “Why not? Maybe it’ll make Furina faint.”

He arched a brow, lips curling up into a small, amused smirk. “Praying on the Hydro Archon’s downfall, now, are we?”

You pat his chest with mock-sympathy. “Such tragic events in the wake of our love are able to be overcome as long as we stick together, yes?”

He smiles widely enough at your joke that you’re flashed with a blinding glimpse of his pearly whites. “I’m glad to hear that you still know how to smile, even after everything that happened and has happened.” Then, completely unexpectedly, he stoops closer and brings his free arm up under your knees, hoisting you up and thus carrying you bridal-style, like he said he would. “Now. Shall we?”

You squeak in surprise, flailing your arms around a little, before finally taking hold of Neuvillette’s neck. “Goodness! You surprised me.” His head is inclined down toward you, a little too close for comfort, and your fingers accidentally get tangled in his moon-hued locks. You tug involuntarily, and he lets out a groan—the sound low and deep and silky. “Oh—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pull on your hair.” His grunts sent flashes of heat straight to your core, and you squirm.

His brow relaxes from the furrow it was in and he gives you a small, reassuring grin. “It’s alright. I just have a sensitive scalp, is all. I won’t drop you, so you’ve no reason to hold on.”

“Aren’t I heavy?” You have put on some weight from all the luxurious food you’ve been served for the past few weeks—if the even tighter fit of your corset and rolling tummy fat is anything to go by. You’ve been having to suck in your stomach a lot more than usual. Although you don’t believe Neuvillette is the sort of man who would be bothered by such a sight, you don’t really want him to be privy to yet another rooted insecurity of yours and have the obviously muscular man struggle under your weight. However, at present, his posture is completely relaxed—he doesn’t seem to be having difficulty with holding you in his arms at all. He must have a lot more muscle under those thick robes than I thought. Which makes you question—where does he get the time to stay in shape?

“Not at all.” He turns towards the door, and you reach to open it for him. “Now, how shall we do this? We must make sure everyone has a nice, big shock.”

“Let’s say I fainted in your arms, and you’ve got to carry me off back to my room.” You smile deviously. “That’ll really get the rumour mill going. I can see it—‘does this mean the Iudex will have an heir?’” You put the back of your hand to your forehead and lean back, as if fainting most theatrically. “‘Is she expecting?’ Oh, but then people will want that.” Maybe you’re taking this a wee bit too far.

Neuvillette laughs lightheartedly again. “Wonderful ideas. Maybe it’ll get Furina off our backs for a while—if we make it appear our relationship is coming along swimmingly.” He nudges the door open with his foot and steps out. “Alright, then, dear wife—that’s your cue.”

Without another word, you go limp in his arms, slumping against his shoulder, eyes shut. His hold tightens but remains gentle, and you can just feel him shift into character. For such an awkward man, he most certainly can act.

You hear the mingling guests’ chatter die down slightly at the emergence of the Chief Justice from the main house, and a set of heels clack over to you both. “My word! What in the Seven happened to the Madame, Monsieur?”

You try not to smirk in amusement at the genuine worry in the Baroness’ tone. You feel Neuvillette draw in a deep breath and exhale it in a fretful sigh. “I sincerely apologise, but my wife and I depart prematurely. You see, she’s fallen ill at some awfully distressing news regarding her family.”

How velvety is the holy Iudex’s tongue when he lies. Abstaining from laughter is getting harder and harder. “Therefore, it is my duty as her husband to escort her back to her chambers to rest.”

Lovely choice of words. You internally applaud his apt emphasising, also. This’ll get Furina going.

“O-Oh! Why, of course. Have a…pleasant trip, Monsieur.” The uncertainty and clear embarrassment in Baroness Aillet’s voice gives clear indication that Neuvillette’s innuendo was successfully communicated.

“Thank you. Have a lovely rest of your afternoon, everyone.” With that, you feel Neuvillette turn and begin to walk back through the main hall of the house and out the front foyer.

“There’s no one else around now, [Name],” he whispers in your ear, and you almost jump with how close he is. Your eyes fly open and you lift your head from his shoulder. “Truly? Alright. You can put me down now—”

“Shh, one moment—there’s the butler.” Goodness, he’s keeping this act up until the very last minute. “My apologies for interrupting you,” his words are a rushed whisper.

“Well, aren’t you the schemer, huh?” You tease, smacking him lightly on his chest. Your hand meets solid, robed muscle, and Neuvillette does not flinch. He just keeps his serpentine-slitted amaranth eyes ahead, a faint smile gracing his features. “You planned for us to leave early.”

So you fall back onto his shoulder, seemingly unconscious, as Neuvillette and the butler greet each briefly before continuing on past. The sun shines into your eyes—strange, it was so cloudy before—and you lift your hand to shade yourself from its glare. “Since we’re out early, won’t we have to hail a carriage from somewhere?”

“I had the coachman stay,” he replies, making no move to put you down. “Let’s just say I had a premonition.”

“I become…emboldened in your presence, ma chérie.” His eyes flit down to meet yours intently. “Even if Miss Navia didn’t give me such an adequate opportunity to bring you aside and convince you to get out of that suffocating place, I would’ve just gone with plan B.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Wriothesley,” you huff out a small laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “You’re becoming slier by the day.”

“If it means coming to the rescue of my dearest wife, then I suppose the pure Chief Justice has to get a little dirt under his nails.” You both finally come to a stop before the carriage, and he gently puts you down. His hold on you does not loosen until your feet are flat on the ground—and even then, he retains a firm but kindly hold on your hand. He opens the carriage door himself, having told the coachman not to worry himself with it, and he lets you up inside first. You slide onto a seat, while he swiftly takes the one opposite you. “Of course, nothing criminally related.”

“I’m sure.” You’re still reeling from his small pet name of ‘ma chérie’ and how the man just admitted he’s not afraid to go to such lengths for you. When did our relationship progress to such a stage? I don’t recall this being a clause in the contract…apart from mutually agreeing towards a more casual, friendly relationship. You’re unsure whether this recent…development within your dynamic is exactly acceptable. What if it grows into something more? What if I fall—or, have I already…?

If so, things are only bound to crumble and shatter down around your ears. I can’t risk it. I’ve diced and argued with myself so many times—this…really can’t go on.

But your current status—how well you both get along, how much you’re beginning to like the buzz of electricity shooting through you at only a mere brush of shoulders from him, and how safe and comfortable you feel around the man…it’s all teetering on the brink; it’s entering hazardous territory. One wrong move, and it all comes tumbling down.

That dark, slithering sensation of fear sets into your veins once more, poisoning your blood with murky pulses of dread and foreboding. However, you find your own natural reaction of shutting down and everyone out to such a feeling delayed—he looks so chipper, and the sun is shining. How could I ruin the moment with my own selfish worries? I would only be burdening the man more.

“She selected our final event to be a ball. It’s already nearing the end of the year. What if the event is put back so far it’ll go over the contract deadline—oh!”

“…I’m sure Furina is quite torn between being outraged and delighted at the turn of events,” he’s saying, snapping you from your shadowed reverie. His soft lilac hues sparkle like a violet-shaded aurora borealis. “Maybe it could be dawning on her that her plans have too many loopholes we keep slipping through. That should stunt her for a bit, no?”

Abruptly, the carriage jolts over something awfully bumpy on the road. You both heard the coachman let out an ‘oops! Sorry about that, Monsieur et Madame!’ before your present predicament dawns on you.

The jostle was so violent it flung you forward, sending you face-first into the warm, expansive chest of the Iudex. Your cry of surprise was lost in the front of his dress shirt, your frame pressed fully up against him—and, you finally realise with horror—you’re now practically straddling him!

“My goodness, [Name], are you alright?” Two large, warm hands come to rest on your upper arms, gently, slowly easing you away from him. You slump down from your position enough so that you sit on his knee, his own legs now spread. You’re quite frazzled—hair frizzy, eyes wide and cheeks flushed beet red; your dress’ left strap loosened and hanging off your shoulder. It’s likely giving him quite a nice view of your collarbones and cleavage.

“I-I…” You quickly adjust your dress strap and make sure your chest is fully covered, never having been so humiliated in all your life. “My apologies—I didn’t—”

A featherlight brush of long, gentle fingers ghosts over your neck—right over your scar. You flinch roughly back, almost toppling over again, if not for your grip on his shoulder; eyes wide and gawking into his own. His are not focused on yours—instead, they are trained right on the scar, his brows upturned into a perturbed frown. Neuvillette’s hand is unmoving in midair, frozen into that caressing motion. Finally, it moves again, coming up to your cheek to brush some hair behind your ear, touch cruelly tender. “Did he do that to you?”

You barely hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. What is he…? His whisper is almost inaudible, and his tone holds an understanding you’ve never heard before. And it only just manages to conceal a masked, but unmistakable, cadence of stoked ire.

“I…yes,” you finally reply, voice just as low. “It’s an old scar.” I should’ve worn a choker. Now look at what's happened! The last person I wanted to see it now has! Damn that coachman for going at such a speed over a bump!

“It looks like it was caused by a rope.” Of course, he’s likely seen lots of murder scenes, so he’d know. You avert your gaze, swallowing. But his hand cradles your cheek again and he turns your head back to him. You feel physically pierced at the compassionate look in his eyes. “…What happened?”

Should I tell him? It’s not like he really needs to know. Another six months and you likely won’t cross paths again. But the man has a knack at making you fold when confronted with those soft eyes of his. Full of innocence, full of tenderness, full of goodwill.

“I’ll tell you…later. Back at the Palais.” You trust him. You trust him with your wounds. The warmth in his eyes, voice and touch makes you feel secure. That tells you why you haven’t pushed away his hand cupping your cheek, thumb caressing the swell of it comfortingly. That tells you why you can’t.

“[Name], forgive me for encroaching on your space.” His other arm suddenly circles itself around your waist, pulling you closer. You’re thus chest-to-chest, hands clutching his strong shoulders. You can’t breathe. “But I think you need this.”

With that, he leans forward, wraps his arms around you, and guides your face into his neck. His hand cradles the back of your head, and you cling to him, hands balling his robe’s material on his back into tight fists.

You bury your face into his neck like a babe would to its mother. He holds you, and you cry.

dun dun DUUUUN guess who's dead 🤭 guess who ISN'T coming back to make your wonderful future happiness with neuvillette a nightmare?? THAT'S RIGHT, I killed off your toxic ex 💕

BUT next chapter will be the LONG AWAITED flashback chapter!! all will be revealed, you and neuv will understand each other more, and the story will continue to progress swimmingly <3

and as for the final quarter of the chapter...I couldn't help myself. like. this man gives the best hugs THAT is my headcanon. it starts raining when others share their pain with him. he's such a sweetheart, so empathetic, you can see why im head over heels for him 💔

ANYWAYYYS I am, again, SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT 🙏 work and life def has favourites, but I am not one of them. so sorry y'all </3

taglist!

@shiroonekoo @just-here-reading @avyakaslana @eternal-dokja @confusedparticle @xitrinez @tanspostsblog @vcatson @sek0ya @loving-august @mxyarylla @ultigoblin @constantlyoverthinking @pvbbyb0y @lynettezzp @esthelily @furblrwurblr @sangoqueenkoko @lacunaanonymoused

I hope you guys enjoyed this one, as much as I enjoyed writing it 💛

#genshin impact #genshin #neuvillette #chief justice neuvillette #fontaine #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #neuvillette x you

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mentalhomosexual · 2 months

Text

♡ 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝔂 ♡

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Chris wants valentine's day to be special for his princess 𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖‍ ღ

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Chan x Fem reader (that's thiqqqq 🙋🏽‍♀️👅‼️)

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼: Dirty talkkkk, gentle chan (but not really idk), Cursing, breeding kink, sugar daddy! channie, sugar baby! reader 😚 (basically)

As you returned home from running a few errands, you come in contact with gifts overflowing the kitchen island. There's jumbo stuffed animals, all of your favorite candies and a bunch of little Knickknacks. Including some pandora jewelry that you showed him a couple months before. You smile to yourself knowing he remembered.

As you reminisce you feel a warm pair of hands slide onto your hips as well as a pair of lips trailing softly down your neck.

"do you like it baby? i got all this for you"

he says in your ear before continuing to suck on your neck, you giggle as you place your hand on top of his, giving in to his lips against your skin.

"I love it baby~ this is so thoughtful of you"

you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close up against you as look up at him while grinning

"i've got you something too~ under my dress i've got a special pink lingerie set i got just for you"

"mmm~ as much as i love this dress on you i can't wait to see what's under it"

"yeah? you like this dress? I don't really know how to feel about it.."

you whine as you look down at yourself before chan takes your chin in between his fingers, bringing your face back up to his

"I love this dress on you baby, you look so sexy in it"

he says as he takes your hand and spins you around slowly to get a good look at your ass beautiful curves. he loves your body. absolutely drunk off of just looking at it. He eventually pulls you back to him.

"I know you wore it just for me didnt you princess?~"

he says slyly as he smirks, dragging his thumb against your bottom lip. you giggle before softly nodding

"but right now i want you to take it off me"

you say say as you bring out your big puppy dog eyes while trailing your index finger down his chest. Chan can feel his cock pulse at the thought of seeing your sexy body in that lingerie set you told him about. he could practically cum in his pants just from the thought. he grins as he silently pulls you to the bedroom.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

He immediately pins you againist the wall once your finally inside the bedroom, his hands rapidly touching you all over, you feel your wetness grow as you have a messy make out session with him, his hard cock pressed against your pussy..you can't help but press against him just to feel him more

he groans as he bites your bottom lip

"fuck....baby can i fuck you raw tonight? i promise to pull out"

even tho you and chan are animals and will practically rip each other's clothes off, you both are always on top of being safe during sex but today you want need him. every inch.

you shake your head before pulling his shirt over his head

"Of course baby, give it to me raw~ no need to pull out this time~ I want every drop"

you smirk as you seductively lick his lip. he nods before swiftly pulling your dress over your head and admiring the pink set you have on just for him. he curses to himself as he's truly screwed.

"lay on the bed for me baby"

He says softly, his body already feeling fucked out just front seeing you partially naked, you place yourself against the cold sheets, smirking as you watch Chan make himself comfortable between your thighs

"I gonna eat this pretty pussy out first"

he slips your pink panties to the side and gets an eye full of your glistening wet pussy, seeing you this wet for me only made his mouth practically water. He drags a long lick on you slit. collecting your sticky wetness on his tongue, he laps at your clit just right, you're whiney moans fill the room as you grip the sheets

He gets so lost in your pussy that you occasionally pulling his hair brings him back to reality. He groans and moans into you, the vibrations giving you even more stimulation. He soon finally comes up for air and immediately starts to kiss you, his tongue rubbing against yours.

"You taste so good baby~ you got me so hard just from tasting you"

he pulls back to say breathlessly, caressing your thighs that he loved oh so much

"want you inside me right now~ pleasee~"

you're already pretty high off ecstasy and your pussy is aching for him to be inside you. Chan quickly gets up off his knees to pull of his jeans and boxers off, he pulls you to the edge of the bad and positions his tip at your entrance, He drops some spit on you pussy before entering you slowly. You both moan at the feel of finally being connected.

"Mhmm, You always take me so well princess~"

He groans as he makes slow but deep strokes into you, it doesn't take you long to get fucked out because he's so big and your little pussy can only take so much.

"Oh god you feel so good~" you moan as you arch of the bed

"Yeah? Does my baby like it when im deep inside her?"

you nod rapidly as you reach for his arm, growing wetter from his low raspy voice

"I love seeing that little bulge in your stomach baby"

he giggles as he picks up the pace in his thrust a little, causing you to grip tightly on his arm, almost drawing blood as you throw your head back. He reaches all the right places and you feel like you can't control your body once he's connected with you.

"Mmm, does my princess want me to put a baby in her? hm? give you every drop of my cum and let stay inside of you~"

You whimper pathetically as you roll your hips to meet his thrust, feeling orgasm slowly approach. Chan can feel you clenching and pulsating around his cock, cause him to moan along with you

"I'm..I'm gonna cum~"

your nails dig deeper into his arm as your eye roll back as you cum all over his cock, not too long after you feel him cum deep inside you before quickly replacing his dick with a plug

"Mm, You're gonna be such a good mommmy~"

He sighs happily before leaning down and kissing you lovingly, you moan into his mouth as you grind up against nothing, Wanting a little more of him. He catches this and grins against your lips

"Want more baby?"

He asked with a degrading chuckle

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

The end is ass, I know. I never know how to end things- But also ignore how this is a month late..it's been sitting in my drafts unfinished bc i was unmotivated 😭😭 but i'm trying 🙏🏽‼️

#stray kids #skz bang chan #straykids scenarios #bang chan #straykids smut #smut

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zedrine · 6 months

Note

hii, can i request a sunny x reader? it's where reader is like. working on homeworks for 2 hours straight and they notice sunny wanting their attention silently so reader stops working on the homework, teases sunny for it, then gives him big kisses

i LIVE for touch starved sunny you don't know how much i adore this boy 💔💔💔

Z.4 — “an hour or so.”

PAIRINGS : SUNNY x Reader

WARNINGS : swearing (only a few tho :D)

DESC : already mentioned

NOTES : WIZHCBFEJDBFN UOURE SO REAL FOR THAG LAST SENTENCE … ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS CANE SO FUCJING LATE IM SO BUSY THESE DAYS WTH😭😭💔⁉️

Swoosh, swoosh, swish — clack, click, clack

Hours and an hour (from 10pm to 11pm), pages and pages, spilled ink and pencil shavings. If this wasn’t Hell, then, fuck, it doesn’t exist!

“UGH!” you exclaimed quite loudly, banging on the page-filled coffee table; something (like a black figure) flinched on your peripheral vision — for a moment there, you’d thought it was the Grim Reaper about to snatch your soul.

But as you quickly veered your head, your sore eyes softened at the sight of your boyfriend cowering away in fear, slightly trembling as he breathed deeply.

“Sunn, hey,” you hastily (yet quietly) crawled over to his side, kissing both his cheeks and nose, “I’m sorry, luv.”

SUNNY’d just woken up whilst MEWO snuggled against his chest, but still sleeping peacefully after the loud bang. “Sorry,” he whispers, eyes closed as he leans on your hand caressing his cheek, “w-what time is it?”

“Eleven pm, but don’t worry — I’ll be finishing soon,” you grinned, kissing his forehead next. He sighed, both in frustration and relief from your touch, “That’s what you said, thrice, forty minutes ago.”

You chuckled, “Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you scratched MEWO’s chin, making her stretch by instinct. “Just… two more assignments, then I’m done. I promise.”

He only looked down at MEWO as she shifts her position, hinting that he, surprisingly, was sulking. ‘Cept you were too drained (or stupid?) to realize it.

You then crawled back to your laptop; one hand typing some essay, then switching tabs to a presentation slide, while the other hand wrote down answers on multiple booklets at once. Yikes.

But, even after all these tasks, you felt a sense of uncomfort.

And that’s when you finally turned your head back to SUNNY, who was looking straight at you, seeping into your overworked soul. With no emotion displayed.

You stared right back at him — any other person would’ve mistook him for being a creep, but you saw his eyes. They were.. strangely glossy; full of tears on the verge of overflowing. “Sunn,” you called.

He stayed unresponsive. Instead, he looked down, fidgeting with MEWO’s droopy paws — like a behaved child, waiting for his sister. Lover.

“Yes?” he responded, finally, but in a stern tone. His voice showed no quivering, but he seemed as if he’d shatter upon a single gush of wind.

You sighed — you knew this night wasn’t going to be easy, especially when you have a clingy boyfriend; “I love you,” you said, “I–”

We all know how “I’ll be finishing soon” would end up like.

It was silent for a moment or two, until you finally stood up — but SUNNY stayed silent. “Hunny,” you called, reaching out your palm to him, which he reluctantly holds. But his head was still lowered.

You placed two fingers on his chin, “Look uuupp!~” you said in a singsong tone — which made him grumble, and you a soft chuckle. “Look,” you placed your hands on his drooped shoulders, then sighed, “I’ll stop now.”

He jolted his head up, shocked, “But..” he hesitated as he spoke lowly, hands fidgeting with one another, “what about your projects??”

“Nah,” you shrugged, “fuck them. I’ll finish them tomorrow.” You cupped his face with both hands, kissing his face from all directions as he giggles softly from the affection.

“Mmh!- Stop!-” He grumbled between laughs.

You booped his blushed nose, “Aww, look! You’re blushing!~” He shut his eyes closed tight to stop you from attacking his face any further, “N-No, I’m not!”

“Heh”, you chuckled. “Get the bed ready,” you kissed his forehead again, tousling his locks. “I’ll clean things up here.”

#omori #omori x reader #omocat #omori fanfic #omori game #omori sunny #oneshots #sunny #sunny omori #sunny x reader #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #fics #fic #fictional #fiction #x reader #xreader

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enderham · 4 days

Text

Some Aventurine headcenons:

- He can't swim properly (never got to learn)

- He has a lot of plants and hires someone to take care of them when he's away. His place looks like a jungle and his balcony is overflowing with them, that's where he spends most of his time when he's in Pier Point. (If there's a cold season in Pier Point his balcony has a sliding glass window that turns it into a greenhouse)

- Thankfully offset by the plants, the rest of his IPC accommodation is just as gaudy and luxurious as his outfits. It's somewhat eclectic because he chooses decorations by process of 'ooh shiny/cool' but there's a clear preference for art nouveu and art deco even though he probably wouldn't know that's what it's called.(He likes the interior design of the reverie but doesn't know why) It's in a luxury apartment block and he had to finesse his way through the chain of command to get it approved for him.

- He genuinely likes green, it's not just cause of his stone(he's wearing the wrong shade anyway) (yeah, the plants)

- He'd wear a lot of colour and jewelry even if he weren't "rich" or maintaining an image(based on the splashes of colour on little Kakavasha's Avgin clothes)

- He doesn't have an actual birthday on file. It's logged as the day the IPC "acquired" him. The only reason he knows the standard system date is because of the massacre. The Avgin calendar is different from the standard system one, so the documentation of the Katican attack was his only way of finding out. Since finding out, all he does on his birthday is burn a Knot of Cyclicality and say a prayer. He's no longer sure if it matches up with the Avgin calendar's Kakava.

- Since he gives out money like it grows on trees and I can imagine his project plans are fairly fluid that would mean that so are his budgets too. It makes me wonder if he's got money on off-shore accounts someplace in the galaxy the IPC hasn't reached yet.

-Converseley, the jewelry he's wearing could be his final asset. I can imagine that watch to be worth at least enough to sustain one person for a year(especially on worlds with a lower cost of living). The bracelets could buy you a vehicle and his other accessories are pocket money, all in case he's gotta run.

-He can drive and he wants to learn how to pilot a ship but the IPC is barring him

-He'd never sell the earring tho

-He also carries his family's heirlooms (the shirt, necklace and charm) everywhere he travels, also in case he has to run. I believe only the most dire of circumstances would stop him from retrieving them. (I also think the charm is the earring so these two are basically the same headcanon)

- Back to the swimming, he's both afraid of submerging his head under water(having to play dead in a pool of blood, probably thinking you'll drown in it does that to a kid) and drawn to large bodies of water.

-His gloves conceal scars on his hands from the chains he had to use as a "tool"

#wow this got worse as it went didn't it #that was not my intention at all lmao #ok ill warn for #canon typical violence #aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #hsr

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pelagaye · 9 months

Text

hair as silver as coins

fandom: honkai star rail pairing: jing yuan x reader summary: jing yuan would be the fairest one of them all among everyone from the six flagships, if only you can tell him that is. no matter, his lazy demeanor and unbelievable appeal are two reasons to keep it to yourself. it takes one walk to change your mind. notes: this fic is inspired by snow white but it isn't an au of it. you'll def see some refs if you squint tho !! n e ways i dedicate this to my cousin who is obsessed w this man. he said he really had fun reading it so i hope that you guys do too ^^

the interrogation begins once the both of you were far enough from the populated areas of the luofu and the setting was simple. jing yuan’s back facing you, he who has coerced to follow him through the evergreens and tall grass. then there was you, who doesn’t mind if you end up collapsing from the strong warmth of the beams above any second now knowing the jing yuan would have no choice but to carry you back.

“lady fu does not take your irresponsibility lightly, general, you are aware of that, yes?” you claim, pushing away an overgrowing tree branch.

"ah, that is very spot on of you, my dear. remind me to commend the master diviner herself," he turns his head to the side catching a glance of you, "however, i do not see how it should affect our delightful stroll. do you not enjoy it yourself?"

the way how jing yuan easily dismisses your question leaves you incapable to suppress an upcoming groan. you swear he does these things on purpose. the audacity of him to call you "dear" is one of them of course, like, who even does that?

"anyone would agree that they too do not see such form of ecstacy with the overflowing papers on your desk, my general," matching up his pace, further reasoning with him. "your seven sparrows don't even make your situation lighter as they enable your procrastination."

"centuries would tell you otherwise. besides, if i were anyone else, i'd assume you were simply jealous of my feathered friends," jing yuan chuckles. "but as *i am* your general, it is alluring to me how you noted their exact numbers, this is exactly why i tell them about you."

he proceeds to tells you that you're nearing your destination but your mind is racing nonstop over the little things:

one, he noticed you referred to him as "my general" when you assumed he'd let it pass. two, he gossips you to the sparrows and although it catches you off guard because who talks to sparrows, you can only hope they're only good things.

—

you immediately detect the pride that surfaces on jing yuan's expression the moment he presents to you the main attraction of your walk.

in front of you stands a sturdy structure of a well. nothing too old but certainly not close to modernity. you wonder if you were just there to get a pail of water and bring it back to the luofu like a mad woman, a strange request not uncommon for the general with you.

he remains sensible, however. "finally" being the general he is supposed to be, you jest. jing yuan laughs at your retort after suggesting you look deeper into the well, promising to not push you down if you ever accuse him to.

so you do trust him, with all of your heart, because what choice do you have when he has already a hold of it way before all of this.

it takes you one peek before jing yuan follows behind you, almost making you- makes you want to believe he intentionally trapped you between the water reservoir and his body as he relaxes his head over your shoulder.

it is not explicit in any way but for safety measures, you remain motionless as you let your heart execute all the remaining movement you can muster.

"this well has become quite special to me for these past years of becoming an arbiter-general," his narrative begins. "you see, if your vision can reach the exact position where its liquid is, you can catch a clear reflection of yourself, no ripples to destroy the image you hold."

this provides you the courage to turn to him with a smirk. "is this your narcissism talking?"

"not particularly, i just like looking at it to remind how after all these years, i am still the same person i have made myself to be." he grins back. "but yes, there may be times i enjoy staring at myself, do you not do the same?"

was the question supposed mean if you enjoy staring at yourself or was it implying if you like staring at him? you will never understand. why does the general like complicating your life like this.

as you discreetly push the question aside, you ask a more important question.

"have i ever made a wish with it? what do you suppose to mean with that?" jing yuan questions.

fumbling with your pockets, you present a single gold coin to the man before you as you turned around, breaking the source of warmth you were getting from each other. "in other planets, you'd make a wish and throw this in the well as if it were some peace offering and hope it comes true!"

"ah~ i seem to understand it better now," the male exclaims. "then i must wish that lady fu does not poison me in any way~"

a laugh escapes your mouth. "and how do you suspect lady fu is to poison you, general jing yuan? she's too prideful for that sort of lousy play, how do you even expect her to execute that?"

"anything can happen, my dear! she might as well use a single apple to make things easier!" jing yuan continues the banter. "but i wouldn't fret knowing you'd be there, i'm sure you'd help break my curse! unless- you are to work alongside with that divinator then i will never get my true love's kiss!"

your heart starts doing its own thing again while your breathe hitches for a moment, unsure if you were in the right mind to respond. "how bold of you to think it's a true love that can only break such intoxication, general."

and out of the blue, jing yuan holds you close as his hands reaches for your cheeks. he stares at you with the utmost adoration that you had been denying for so long but despite it all, it's evidently there.

"that may be correct but at least," his face coming closer to your own. "even without a kiss, i am more than sure about my true love."

#HII GUYS IM NOT DEAD i just . sorta forgot this account due to preparations for college and stuff happening in life in general #anyways #it was p fun !! writing this !! rly challenged me big time #even had a whiteboard for me to dump all the snow white story references i wanted use in this fic heehee #idk why it took me so long to post SORRYY #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x you

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ya-zz · 9 months

Note

Don’t mind me- just gonna slide this in here to break your heart and also break Ramattra’s

Reader has suicidal thoughts and attempts but Rama stops them before they go through with it

I hate you for making me write this.

fr tho, this was a change, and also heart breaking. It's been awhile since I wrote something like this, hope you enjoy! ♥

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1417

Attempted suicide warning for this.

Something was off and he didn’t know what it was. Humans had complex emotions, he knew that part very well, but he couldn’t quite wrap his systems around you. Ramattra could only guess, but he didn’t want to make the wrong choice and make you uncomfortable, so he waited for you to show an emotion he knew, but that never came.

The hours turned into days and those days into a week, yet your stoic face never changed. You were more absent recently and Ramattra clocked on almost instantly. Part of him worried, but the other part of him followed alongside the others, not wanting you push you to talk and instead stayed quiet.

But that didn’t last. The following day you were happier, more lively than the last week, talking and jesting to the others and they didn’t notice the battle you were fighting alone inside. Ramattra, however, found it peculiar. Human emotions are complex, he reminded himself and therefore, stopped questioning you silently.

The omnic watched on for awhile, seeming to notice the saddening looks when the others weren’t looking. He noticed the way you itched at your arms, sleeves covering the flesh underneath. Itchy jumper, perhaps, he thought. But… A jumper in summer?

Even he knew that was a little strange, and given the current temperature, the sweltering heat, he knew that it wasn’t comfortable for you, especially the way he saw the sweat roll down the side of your face whenever he looked over, optics scanning your overheating body.

Ramattra was still unsure on how to approach you, not wanting to startle you and make you flee. While yes, you were friendly with him, never showing any sort of hostility towards him, he didn’t want to come off as someone who overanalysed the situation, so he waited.

The group eventually disbanded, leaving only you and him. It was a little awkward, and the pair of you would have agreed if one brought it up, but you smile up at him and he tilts his head in a kind gesture.

“Are you not warm?” He breaks the silence.

“Not really.” You lied.

Ramattra nods once, not wanting to pry. His scanners knew you were warm, body heating up as you stood in front of him, and the sweat on your forehead would’ve given you away regardless.

Just as he was about to speak up again, a voice calls out for him, calling him over to help with a different situation.

“My apologies.” He lifts his hand slightly, part of him not wanting to leave. “Shall we catch up some other time?” The omnic offers, head tilting once more.

You hesitated, and he clocks on instantly. “Maybe…”

“[y/n]? Is everything okay?” His vocals were low as he took a step closer towards you. Before you could answer though, the voice calls out again to the omnic, a little more demanding than before. Ramattra keeps his optics on you for a moment before apologising again and leaving, only just catching your final words before he was out of earshot.

“Goodbye…”

With an ache in your chest, tears pricking your eyes, you walk back to your room and close the door behind you. At that moment, it felt like everything was crashing, emotions overflowing as your tears fell down your cheeks. It was all too much for you, the feeling of never being enough for people, not being the perfect person for anybody. You felt broken and used. I’d be better of dead… No longer a burden to others. It’d be better that way… At least they wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore… You thought, each and every day.

Your heart ached a little more as you made your way to your bed, curling up on top of the bedsheet as you sobbed quietly, clutching your own body to calm yourself.

Ramattra felt a pang of guilt rise within his chassis and he couldn’t quite place it. Something isn’t right, he thought over and over again. His mind was elsewhere but the task at hand, distracted by your words and hesitant nature.

He tried, he really did, to keep focussed, but his mind would wander back to you. Something inside of him wouldn’t rest until he knew you were okay. The omnic apologised before practically running to your room, cabled hair bouncing on his shoulders as he rushed over, a sinking feeling already rising in his chest.

He knocked once.

He knocked twice.

There was no answer. He knocked a third time, more desperate than the last and when he was met with silence, he tensed, fingers inputting your door code, a slight shake within his servos.

As the door opened, he was met with you curled up in bed, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary until his systems detected your shallow breathing and heartbeat decreasing as the seconds went by.

Ramattra panicked, rushing over to you and placing a hand on your arm, pulling you to face him. When you didn’t react, he looked around and eyed up a small bottle on the floor beside his feet. The omnic hesitated as he picked it up, reading the label and he felt his heart sink in that moment.

“No… No, [y/n], come on…” His systems were in overdrive as he picked up your limp body and carried you over to the bathroom, stepping into the bathtub and running the water from the showerhead. His hands carefully stripped your jumper from your body, scanner instantly picking up the fresh cuts littering your arms.

The water hit your exposed body, the sudden coldness making your heart jump. Ramattra knelt down before eventually sitting under the water with you with one hand wrapped around your torso as he kept you under the stream.

“Come on… [y/n]...” He tilted your head back with his other hand, making it rest against his chest as he watched your breathing pick up slightly. While his systems kept an eye on you, his hands kept caressing your body, trying to wake you back up. He was shaking, and not because of the cold water, but because of the fear of losing you.

He feared the drugs were too deep in your system but he tried nonetheless to remove them, placing his fingers into your mouth to force you to throw them back up. He waited for a moment then felt your body tense, removing his fingers and letting you throw yourself forward to hurl up the contents of your stomach.

Ramattra did it once more before placing his hand back on your forehead, pulling you back to rest against him as your breathing slowly steadied, heart returning to a slightly more normal rhythm. His other arm never left your torso, not wanting to let you go. When he moved his hand from your forehead, he snaked it down your arm, missing your cuts as he gently caressed your hand, rubbing slow and soothing circles into the wet flesh.

As your body got used to the water, you open your eyes, weak and tired as you groan out. It took a moment to realise where you were and with no jumper covering your body, you move your hands up to cover what was on show.

Ramattra sighed behind you, pulling you a little closer to him.

“[y/n]...” His voice was low as he moved forward a little, arm still holding onto you. “Talk to me…”

You look off to the side, a slight warmth spreading to your cheeks from embarrassment.

“No… At least… not right now…” You look down at the hand caressing yours, feeling somewhat at ease at the motions.

Ramattra nods behind you, leaning forward again and resting his faceplate on the back of your shoulder. “Please… Talk to me…”

You stay silent, knowing it wasn’t a request for now.

“For once I felt fear… Fear of losing you…” He admitted, keeping his head pressed to your body. “I do not want to lose you too…”

Your eyes widen as you look back at him before looking back down at his hand. “I’m sorry…”

“It is okay… You will be okay…” Ramattra squeezed you a little tighter, a slight hum from his chassis soothing you as he rumbled against your back like a cat purring.

A soft sigh escape you, tears falling down your cheeks and mixing with the water as the pair of you sat under the shower head.

“You will be okay…” He repeated. “I promise…”

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #overwatch 2 #reader #overwatch ramattra #fanfic #ow #overwatch fanfiction #ow2 #yazzfics

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cacoetheswriting · 2 years

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Hello, hope you're having a good day! I'm not sure if you're taking requests but if you're, could it be possible for you to do one where Eddie has to take care of the reader cause she is drunk af and while he does it, she starts open up about how she can't understand why he would even be with her and how he deserves soso much better than her. Basically angst with a sweet ending;; I'm sorry for this if you're not taking requests tho.

hey, anon! thank you & i hope you're having a good day too <3

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 1.2k warnings: established relationship, adult language, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, (sweetheart), talk of self-doubt / insecurities, bad communication, a little angsty, a little fluffy - unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

The drinks keep coming and you keep accepting them until you can barely stand. With every sip of alcohol that burns down your throat, the jokes seem funnier while the music gets louder. Your head is spinning out of control but you are finally confident enough to dance freely. For once, you feel pretty and cool.

This was a fun idea, the party. You were hesitant at first since high school get-togethers weren’t usually your thing, but Robin nagged and nagged, promising you the time of your life, until you finally said yes.

And now, as you tumble towards the kitchen, spilling what is left of your current drink all over the floor, you think to thank Robin in the morning for dragging you out.

“Having fun?” Nancy slurs her words as she leans against the fridge.

“The most fun,” you answer, slightly bopping your head.

She smiles. “And where’s that boyfriend of yours? I never see him at these parties.”

“Oh, he—” you hiccup, suddenly feeling nauseous, “— Eddie, this isn’t really his scene.”

Nancy raises a brow. “That’s actually surprising,” she says as she refills her cup and disappears back into the party.

Sighing, you place your own glass down in the overflowing sink and approach the phone. Your hands begin to shake as you unscramble your drunken thoughts in search for a certain phone number. You blame the alcohol, and Nancy a little too, as you wrap the cord around your wrist and place the speaker to your ear.

“Hello?” Eddie answers. You instantly detect concern in his voice, and possibly a little annoyance since it is two o’clock in the morning.

“Hey,” you exhale, “can you come pick me up, please?”

At your request, like a knight in shining armour, it doesn’t take the metalhead long to arrive. He finds you sitting on the front steps of Harrington’s place, your head leaning heavily against the railing, half-asleep.

“What the hell, sweetheart?” Eddie’s seems horrified and with very good reason as you aren’t usually the type of person to get yourself in such a state.

He manages to help you up on your feet. He then snakes your right arm around his shoulders, intertwining your fingers together, while his free arm makes its way behind your back, his hand holding you in place just underneath your armpit.

“What were you thinking?” Eddie asks while the two of you stumble slowly to his van.

“I wasn’t,” you answer honestly with a little hiccup, “I’m sorry, Eds.”

The leather clad teen sighs. He helps you into the vehicle’s passenger seat and fastens your seatbelt. Your head falls back against the seat and you close your eyes. The world is still spinning but you feel safe now.

Eddie looks at you for a second. He lifts his hand to gently caress your cheek before placing a kiss to your forehead. You hum underneath him, eyes still closed.

He proceeds to close the door shut and jogs around his van to hop behind the wheel.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” Eddie exhales without looking at you and starts the engine.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you protest quietly, “Take me to the trailer.”

Eddie doesn’t argue. Partially because he knows there is no point as you’d win anyway — even in the inebriated state you are in right now, you always win — and partially because he wants to be the one to tuck you into bed.

There was no denying things between you two have been rocky for some time now and Eddie would be a fool to deny he wasn’t the reason why.

Graduation was fast approaching and you would be leaving him behind. It was unfair to hold that against you, he was aware, but he still couldn’t help it because while you went off to college, he would be stuck in this shitty town all alone.

Of course you promised over and over how nothing would change, but Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew change was guaranteed. So in the last couple of weeks, to get used to not having you around, he isolated himself.

And because communication was never something the two of you were good at, you let him be, no questions asked. Although, with every passing day, you were lost more and more in your own head. Thinking things were better this way, he liked them better this way. Thinking he didn’t need you. His life was better without you.

Both in the wrong, neither willing to admit it.

Within what feels like ten minutes, the trailer comes into view.

Eddie helps you inside. While he grabs you a glass of water, you toddle towards his bedroom and scramble on top of his duvet. The first thought that crossed your mind is how the bed feels more comfortable than you remember it being. After all, it’s been a while since you were last here.

You try to kick off your shoes. When that doesn’t work, you try and sit up to take them off but your world is spinning again so all you can do is sigh heavily, heels heavy around your ankles like shackles.

“Let me help you,” Eddie states, concerned as he walks into the room. He places the glass of water on the bedside table and sits down beside you. Gently, he settles your legs over his lap and with very little effort, drops the heels to the floor.

“Is that better?”

You nod and smile sheepishly. “My hero.”

Eddie returns the expression. He watches silently as you shift positions on the bed, making yourself comfortable. He’s back to his feet now and as he covers you with a blanket, your eyes close.

“Get some sleep, baby.”

He’s about to walk out of the room when you mumble: “I’m sorry I haven’t been the best girlfriend lately.”.

The statement causes him to halt and he hovers in his spot for a moment unsure whether you meant for him to hear that, unsure whether he should respond. But then, before he even gets a chance to organise his thoughts, you continue.

“I thought giving you some space was the right thing to do,” you admit without looking at him, “Now I think space was the last thing you needed because you’ve never felt more distant, and I guess, well, I guess I just don’t understand why you’re still with me.”

Running a hand through his locks, feeling guilty as fuck, Eddie is quick to sit on the free side of the bed. Sniffling, you turn your body towards his and snuggle your head into his chest as you wrap one arm around his torso.

“If anything, I’m sorry I haven’t been the best boyfriend,” Eddie exhales, sheathing an arm around your shoulder and with the other, gabbing your hand. “I sorta pushed you away without giving you a real reason.”

He starts rubbing soothing circles into your wrist using his thumb and a soft sigh escapes your lips..

“Guess we need to learn to express how we’re feeling, huh?”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, but not right now,” he says and kisses the top of your head. “Now you need to sleep off the alcohol you consumed.”

You nod against him and as you drift asleep, you can hear Eddie whisper: “I’m right here, sweetheart. Always.”.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n

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