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#corpse husband x fem reader
Note
j can you please make a corpse x reader where they are both publicly dating and as all internet couples do, get a fair amount of hate. but one day a specific comment gets under the readers skin so they distance themselves from corpse (lots of angst but with a good ending ?)
I'm sorry this took forever, I couldn't get my meds and went a lil crazy agh, also idk if this is any good tbh I feel bad at writing lately. Hopefully you like it though oof.
-J The Ghost
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➢ Author: J The Ghost ➢ Pairings:  Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n ➢ WC: ~4k ➢ Themes:  Hurt/Comfort? | Angst | Fluff | Happy Endings ➢ Warnings: Depression | Anxiety | Death Threats | Spiraling | Intrusive Thoughts | Cyberbullying? ➢ Summary: You and Corpse are publicly dating, you knew you'd get some hate, but you didn't actually think it would get to you like this...
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Request: Hate Mail
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You woke up from your nap to the sounds of several voices coming from the other room. He must be streaming… You thought groggily as you stretched and snuggled back into the covers enveloped in the scent of his cologne.  You pulled out your phone and checked the time, almost four… Jesus, he really had made good on his word, you didn’t even realize you could be that exhausted. As you scrolled through your socials you saw the notifications of most of his friends live streams. Sussy Sundays, of course, how did you forget? He really had taken it out of you earlier. 
You were grateful to have weekends off, allowing you to see him more than just any days you managed to get off work at a decent time, but you hated Sundays. You both took turns staying over at each other's houses and coming up with fun things to do together, but since he’d agreed to be a part of the Sussy Sundays, you had to find a way to entertain yourself. When he would stay at your house, it was easy to find things to do- dishes, laundry, and tidying up always needed done- but at his place, he mostly ordered takeout, and didn't really have enough stuff to ever accumulate messes, much less any laundry, so you were left to figure something else out. 
A few times he’d asked you to join in on games, or hangout and watch him, but if the viewers got wind that you were with him- everyone's chat would latch on and start blowing up about it. You hated the fact that you’d turn viewers' attention away from the streamers they were watching, which led to you feeling guilty for making even the slightest sounds despite both him and his ever supportive friends trying to actively involve you. 
Ever since the two of you had gone public, the internet had gone wild. In the beginning fans were pretty supportive and kind, but once Corpse started to post about you more and more, they quickly turned on you. It felt like the majority now was vehemently against the idea of your relationship. You knew that once it was public, you would get a lot of hate, but some of the comments were so hyper specific and vile- you couldn't help but be hurt. You always did your best to not read through them, or let him see when ones you did see affect you. You knew it was mostly young fans that were crushing on him and envious of you, but it all still seemed to leave you feeling drained, and anxious, an empty feeling of doom settling in with each critique. What if he saw merit in some of them? Sure most were shallow insults, but some seemed so spot on to you. 
Who even are they? They're nobody, why is he with them??
He probably felt bad- he’s just too nice…
He can do soo much better…
You weren't usually an insecure person, but it was hard to stay positive when you did kind of agree. You worked a normal job, lived an average life, and you weren't really into the world of streaming, even as a viewer. It was- at the least- confusing to understand why he would be with you over someone with a similar lifestyle, or had more in common with him. 
Tik Tok was your savior while he finished up with his friends. The algorithm only showed you the mind-numbing content you wanted to see, nothing about him or streaming at all. It was around 7:30 and you were halfway through a dinner recipe video when he finally entered his room again. 
“Have a good nap?” He smirked tiredly as he plopped down on the bed beside you. 
“So good…” You chuckled, saving the video before tossing your phone aside to snuggle up to him “How was the stream?” 
“It was fun. Everyone said to tell you hi…” He wrapped his arm around you and absently traced his fingers along your arm.
“Tell them I say hi too.” You smiled as you buried your face into his hoodie. “Your friends are so nice…” 
“Mhm… they really like you.” He chuckled. “Are you hungry yet? I'm starving…” You nodded and paused, still groggy from lying in bed. 
“Can we get pasta? I’m craving it so bad…” Your voice perked up at the thought of the recipe video.
“Of course,” he laughed at your enthused voice, “you better start getting ready though…”
“Were going out?” You looked up at him in confusion, it was rare he ever wanted to go out, especially so spontaneously. 
“Yeah why not? I mean… as long as you’re up for it?” 
“Y-Yeah, just surprised that you are…” You beamed up at him before mustering the energy to get up and get ready. You pulled your hair aside and headed to the bathroom to wash your face, peeking slightly in the mirror's reflection and catching glimpses of him changing from the bedroom. The cheeky blush across your face turned quickly to a hot embarrassment as you watched the black button-down settle across his lean shoulders. Your mind started flashing through images of all the comments deeming you unworthy of him. You turned your face away from the mirror and avoided eye-contact with yourself- knowing it would only cement those thoughts and sour your mood even more. 
You quickly brushed your teeth and headed back to the room, only to stare at the clothes you had brought in disappointment. Too loose you’ll look like a soggy cardboard box, too tight you’ll look like a shrink wrapped ham, too-
“You okay?” He chuckled from behind you as he fixed his shirt.
“Yeah… I’m fine.” You huffed out, grabbing at a random article of clothing and feeling yourself physically recoil at the thought of wearing it. 
“You don’t look fine- if you don’t wanna go out we can stay in…” He shrugged and examined your clothes with you. “You still have some other things in my closet you know… you don’t have to keep living out of your carry on bag. You can keep things here.” He laughed softly. 
“I- I know. I just… I don’t know- it's one of those days- you know?” You mustered up a small laugh. “Nothing feels right.” You shrugged it off. 
“I get it… let's just stay in.” He sat beside your clothes on the bed, offering a soft smile as he took your hands and pulled you closer .
“No, I want to go out…” You furrowed your brow a bit, irritated that you were letting it all affect you so much. “I’ll hurry up.” You pulled another few items of clothing out and headed back to the bathroom, not wanting to even think about him watching you change right now. 
You came back out after continuing to struggle through every aspect of getting ready while your mind attacked you. He sat up from scrolling his socials on the bed and quickly tucked his phone back into his pocket- a detail you wish your brain would find insignificant.
 “Ready?” He smiled and stood as you nodded. He grabbed his jacket and threw it on as you grabbed your things and started to head out with him. 
You were grateful for the comfortable silence as he drove to the restaurant, allowing you some time to try and change your mood. He’d put some softer lofi on the radio and let you silently watch as the streetlights flashed past your window. You weren't sure how he always seemed to know exactly what you needed, yet he always did. 
When you arrived at the restaurant you were surprised to hear he’d made reservations for the two of you. You couldn’t help but smile, despite the discomfort welling up that he’d chosen something more fancy than you had expected- or dressed for. 
“Wait, wait…” He hooked arm around your side, stopping you as you followed the host to the booth. He spun you into him in front of the elegant floor length mirror stood beside the entrance and pulled out his phone for a picture. You giggled at the quick cute gesture and posed with him, shutting your eyes as he snapped the pic to avoid any further mental spiraling. 
Dinner went by uneventfully, you stayed a bit more quiet as he excitedly told you about new songs he was working on, or vented about the issues holding up his new merch drop. It wasn’t entirely due to your bad mood, you loved seeing him enthuse about his passions and how animated he’d suddenly become. His whiskey toned eyes would light up and his excitement was palpable in the air, making even you more energized. It wasn’t until halfway through or so when you came back from the bathroom that things shifted. You caught sight of him looking up at you returning before tucking his phone quickly away again. 
“What’s that about?” You questioned lightheartedly with a laugh.
“Oh it’s nothing… Did you wanna get dessert?” He dismissed before swiftly changing the subject, but not before you caught a strange look on his face. 
“Okay Mr. Secretive… um, I think I’m full though.” You shrugged awkwardly as you looked down at your plate.
“You sure weren't saying that about the wine though…” He chuckled as he sipped his own glass.
“I- okay?” You rebutted, hesitating as you gave him a confused glance. “I was just trying to cure my bad mood…” You internally cringed as your voice came out more defeated and offended than you intended, seemingly proving his point that you’d had too much. It was only two glasses… am I really that bad? All that stupid pasta I kept shoving in my fat mouth absorbed it all- I don’t even feel drunk…
“Wh- no… baby I- I was just making a joke… I didn’t mean anything by it-” His face softened with concern. 
“No it’s fine… I probably have had too much- sorry.” You managed to squeak out, your face reddening with embarrassment. “Let’s just get the check…” I just want to go home now… Jesus Christ. You bit down on the inside of your lip as you heard the harsh, irritated sigh he let out. 
---
The drive back from the restaurant was insufferable, just as it had been for him to the restaurant. He wasn’t sure if even his knives could’ve cut the tension radiating from the passenger side. It was clear something happened but he didn’t know what. Before he’d gone to his office to join the stream everything was fine, but once he came back the mood had completely changed. 
“Are you- okay? Did I do something to upset you?” He asked as tentatively as he could upon getting back home. 
“N-No, I’m fine. I’m sorry I had too much to drink.” Your voice was still soft but had a bit of an edge to it. 
“I’m sorry I said that at the restaurant, I didn’t mean it like that at all. I meant it in like a- ‘it’s funny that you chose the wine over dessert…’ because I agreed- kind of way… I’m sorry baby.” He paused, taking your hands and tugging you gently closer as he kissed your forehead. “Y/n, If I did something to upset you, I wanna know, so I can fix it and make you feel better. You’ve seemed upset since I got off stream.”
“It… it’s fine, I’m just stupidly sensitive. I’m fine.” You ruined the entire night with him, great job. If he really wasn’t hiding anything on his phone earlier, he’ll surely start now. You huffed in frustration at yourself. “I should probably get home…” 
“W- Why? You always leave Monday mornings…” He asked, feeling his energy plummet as you continued to shut down. 
“I just have an early day tomorrow is all. I’m sorry…” You met his gaze, immediately wishing you hadn't as you offered a half smile to his heartbreakingly defeated expression. You pushed back the self-criticism as you went to collect your things, that could wait until you were alone in your car. He silently followed you back into his room like a kicked puppy and helped you gather your things, making your brain slew more insecurities about him wanting you gone. Once all your stuff was in your bag he walked you out to your car while you said your goodbyes. 
“Please drive safe…”
He’ll just feel guilty if something happens…
“...text me when you get home…”
He feels like he has to say that… you’re so fucking sensitive. He walks on eggshells with you.
“I love you…” 
No he doesn’t, why the fuck would he? 
The drive back home continued that way as you dissociated the entire time, only letting the tears fall once you were back inside your own house. After having a small breakdown over the bullying your brain had done, you texted him you were home before collapsing down into your bed- exhausted by it all. You were ready for any solace you could get from mindlessly scrolling your phone, though it seemed the universe had something else in mind. You opened your instagram to check messages from your friends but were promptly bombarded by a photo he’d posted of the two of you from the restaurant. He’d put some goofy angel and devil emojis over your faces that you tried to let yourself laugh at but couldn't muster at the moment. He’d captioned it ‘LOMFL 😍🥵’ that got a small smile out of you, but not without a scoff. It wasn’t really until you tapped on the comments, you felt your gut tighten. The first few were various heart emojis from Rae, Tina, and Sean- but below that it took a turn. His fans attacked everything about you, your outfit, your weight, even your personality- as if they even knew you. But it didn’t stop there, some crazed fans had gone as far as finding you somehow- despite him never tagging you- and DMing your personal account even more vile things, even death threats. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to scream and show them how awful you could really be, but mostly you wanted to make yourself stop believing them. You didn’t want any of it to be true… but you were now convinced it was. 
The next day you kept your phone completely off, even going as far as deleting all your socials before shutting it off. In the morning meeting with your boss you informed her your phone wasn’t working and email was how you should be contacted from now on, so you wouldn't even need it on for later. You went about your daily tasks at work completely numb, doing everything you could to keep yourself too busy to think. Of course, that only worked at work, at home it was entirely different. The next few days turned to weeks as you cleaned like you never had before, you rearranged furniture like you were suddenly trying to fit four Alaskan king sized beds in your home, you went to the store and meal prepped- full well knowing you’d have no appetite, you binged several of your favorite shows entirely. 
By the third week, you’d fully run out of tasks to keep the thoughts and anxiety at bay. You scrolled through Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon- finding nothing. Out of either habit or some subconscious cue about the anxiety of not texting the only person you wanted to at the moment, you opened up Youtube. You rolled your eyes and groaned softly but scrolled through the videos anyway, cringing as the recommendations of Sussy Sundays and various other videos with your boyfriend popped up. You felt incredibly guilty about not talking to him. It wasn’t like the two of you talked non-stop, or that he’d be mad, you were just sure with the way you’d left things he was likely worrying about you by now. As you continued to scroll you saw a live video pop up in your suggestions, of him. He’s live? Why is he live? He doesn’t stream anymore… You were already anxious, but after reading the title ‘we need to talk…’ you started to feel sick. You hesitantly clicked the video and his voice rang out from your TV. 
“...I really don’t give a fuck how you guys feel or what you fuckin think…” He paused, presumably reading the chat. “I know it’s not all of you… but those of you that are commenting this shit… I don’t wanna fuckin see it- I don’t everr wanna see this shit again… if you like my content but come into my chat, or friends chats, or on twitter.com or instagram and say that shit… fucking unsubscribe right now, fuck you. Get off the fucking internet, it's disgusting.” You took in a deep breath as anxiety welled up more, why was he doing this? “I’ll straight up never put out another thing ever again if this keeps happening. I know that people are always gonna be assholes, but if you’re a fan of me or whatever- and saying this fucking shit about my partner? Go fuck yourself. I don’t want your fucking support…”  
You stared at his animated figure standing in the rain blankly and opened up your laptop, starting a video call to him. You waited for a while as he went silent on stream before it was denied. Is he mad at me? It’s all my fault- fuck.
“Anyways- I just thought I’d get on here and reprimand you fucks… and to all my actual fans, being kind and supportive, thank you, and keep reporting these people- love you guys… oodles and oodles… keep being you- I’m sorry you guys had to hear this… love you.” 
 You tried again as the stream ended. Again denied. Fuck he’s pissed… Because of me he had to get on after not streaming anymore and do that- fuck… You took a deep breath and tried to not overthink. Maybe he’s just sick of your bullshit. If he was worried or he’d been trying to contact you at all, he probably would’ve answered. You fidgeted nervously at the thought. I’ll just start a new show- keep my mind off this… You shut your laptop and dejectedly threw it aside on the couch before getting up and grabbing some blankets for another night of Netflix. 
You were two episodes in when you decided to grab a snack but just as you paused the show and stood, there was a knock on the door. You looked over, and cautiously moved toward it. Peeking out the peephole you saw what looked like an outraged figure of your boyfriend standing outside. You felt icy panic run through you as you grabbed the handle and twisted, preparing yourself for the worst.
“You’re okay…” He sighed in relief as his whole body relaxed. 
“I- Y- yeah… I- I’m fine.. What are you-” You tried to play catch up, still in shock to see him at your door, let alone not yelling at you. 
“You haven’t answered your phone- for anyone- in like a month…” He seemed to pant out. “I tried to give you space and not worry too much when you weren't answering, but then you deleted your socials, and then didn’t answer Tina, or Rae… or me… I was… scared.” He paused and caught his breath. “When you video called me I panicked, I thought you were in trouble or- I- I don’t even know… I just rushed over.” He stepped in and yanked you into one of his enveloping bear hugs. You stood motionless, mostly from how tight his arms were around you, but partially from even more surprise. Here he was, yet again, proving that he knew you better than anyone- and certainly better than you knew him. The guilt of not talking to him only grew now. How could you have ever thought any awful things about the panic stricken, devoted, heart-of-fucking-gold man that was seemingly holding onto you for dear life? 
“I- I’m sorry…” You squeaked out, faltering under his obvious concern. He sighed again and released his hold but kept his hands gently on your arms. 
“Please don’t do that again… If you need space that's okay, but please just tell me… I- I didn’t know what to think- or do…” He knelt down to your level slightly, his face full of worry as he seemed to practically beg. 
“I’m sorry…” You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat as your voice wavered. 
“I-It’s okay… I- I’m not mad… I just wanted to know you’re safe- cause I worked myself into a panic not knowing- I’m sorry I just showed up out of the blue…” He took a deep breath. “If you still need space that's okay I just- I was really worried. I know I’m probably overreacting…” 
“No… I just… I don’t know-” You looked down at your feet, the guilt consuming you now as he continued to prove every horrible thought you had about him wrong. 
“Do you want to talk?” He questioned hesitantly as his mind began reeling in the same way yours had. You just nodded, looking up as he closed the door and looked back to you, eyes still full of worry. 
You moved back to the couch and curled up into the blanket, comforting yourself and trying to hold back tears of guilt over how you’d acted toward him. He slowly moved to sit by you. 
“What’s going on? A-are you upset with me?” He stuttered nervously, also anticipating the worst. You shook your head and shut your eyes as they welled up. It all felt so stupid now- but the constant harassment, death threats, and insults had done a number- and having him here, almost completely in the dark about it all but still so kind and loving was just too much all at once. 
“Oh- baby… shh come here.” He soothed melodically as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly again. “Please talk to me.” His voice was soft and quiet as he pressed kisses onto the top of your head. 
“I don’t wanna cry- it’s stupid…” You managed to mumble. 
“It’s not stupid- something is really bothering you… is it the comments and shit?” You nodded. 
“It’s all of it- I- I don’t know why you’re even with me…” Your voice cracked and broke. 
“Y/n, I’m with you because I’m in love with you- I wouldn’t ever let the opinions of fucking dumbass ten-year-olds with no internet supervision change or dictate that…” You cringed as you heard the offended tone in his voice. 
“I know… I just… I let my brain believe it all… and I feel shitty… and that just makes me wonder even more why- because I do shit like this- even though you’re nothing but amazing and loving to me…” You choked out between sobs. 
“You’re not shitty…” His tone softened even more as he pulled your face up. “I have no idea what it’s like to go through that, and how you can even deal with it. Most people don’t. I knew it was hard to see, and if I had any idea that you’d been this upset about it for this long I would’ve stopped it right then and there…” He kissed your forehead and wiped off your tears. “I’m so sorry baby… I should’ve known.” You shook your head. 
“I should’ve just told you… but I felt so stupid- letting it get to me- I wanted to just come home and clear my head and get over it… but then it got worse and I just I don’t know, I couldn't deal.” He pushed your hair from your face and let you continue after the sobs began to slow. “Now I just feel guilty and shitty for avoiding you- avoiding all of it, not telling you… especially when you are… like this- so nice, and understanding.” You scoffed harshly at yourself, making him chuckle.
“Don’t. It’s a pretty understandable way to react… I’m sorry honey…” He leaned in and kissed you softly. “Would it help if I pretend to be mad at you?” He joked lightly as you parted. You let out a weak but honest giggle and gave an exaggeratory nod. He laughed and tsked loudly. “I can’t believe it… how could someone so goddamn attractive, funny, kind, and lovable think that I’d be dumb enough to see any warrant to the words of fuckin dipshit kids? To think that I’m not already blindly and completely head over heels? I’m disappointed…” He mocked in a goofy tone.
“Shut up…” You laughed, wiping your face and pushing him playfully. 
“I love you dummy.” He chuckled and kissed you again. 
“I love you too, Corpsie.” 
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unhonest-iago · 1 year
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My Pretty Little Galway Girl
Idk why I made the set up for this so long. That said, happy w/ how it turned out.
P/t—preferred temperature
F/m/g—favorite music genre
Fem reader
Corpse meeting y/n at a dive bar, him in the audience and them on the stage. Fingers plucking the strings on their violin, the body nestled between shoulder and chin. Long skirts swaying as they moved across the stage. 'Why hello there stranger,' greeting Corpse after he sent them a drink.
Two fingers shooting upward in a mini salute when y/n looked towards his end of the bar, deciphering who had sent it. A handsome man with unruly black hair. 'Name's Corpse.'
'Y/n. Hopefully you don't murder people as a hobby.' They joked, not thinking Corpse could become any more attractive when they heard his laugh. 'Can promise you I've never murdered anyone. Plus haven't met anyone to murder.'
'Oh, so are you new to town new or new to this neck of the woods new?' Crossing a leg over the other, smoothing their skirt down. 'As in moved here a week ago.' Y/n, entranced by the man decided to be his tour guide. Asking if he was free the following weekend. 'What for?' The tone of the conversation carrying a wind of coyness. 'Sight seeing, if you're up for it.'
‘Hop on, stranger.’ The term quickly became a staple nickname y/n uses for Corpse. Corpse glad he wore jeans at the sight of their motorcycle. ‘Nice to see you again, fiddler.’ Corpse looping his hands around their waist.
Y/n ends up taking him to all the hole in the wall joints that tourists would never find. Purposely choosing the scenic routes. The day closing with the duo sat on top of a hill, watching the sun go down as they shared a pile of fries. 'Thanks for this.' Corpse whispers. Nudging their knee with his, 'No problem, was nice to get an outsider's opinion. Finally got to share it with someone.'
Chat notices that Corpse is happier and starts conspiring whether he has a partner which scares the fuck out of him because he hasn't told y/n what he actually does for a living. So he sits y/n down that week and explains it all to them. 'Can I watch you stream? It's fine if not.' Corpse helps them set up an account.
Corpse being just as supportive with y/n's work. Going to a gig here and there when he has nothing to do. Still taken a-back at how comfortable they are on stage, even though it's more of a slate platform. Y/n spotting him when they once again get a drink sent their way. Mouthing the word 'tease,' and Corpse simply mouths back 'but you love me for it.'
Leads to them moving into an apartment together. Corpse getting some of his friends to help carry boxes in if they're free. Y/n unlocking the door after they park the rental truck into the parking lot. Living together, y/n learns that Corpse is a big night owl and takes his coffee black. Corpse learns that y/n likes the thermostat on p/t and that they like to listen to f/m/g while cleaning
A year rolls around and it's now springtime. 'What's got you all excited?' Corpse asks as he hugged them from behind, having noticed how y/n had a little pep in their step. 'St. Patrick's Day is next week. Actually got to the store early enough to get a whole brisket.'
His eyebrow furrowed as he asked, 'brisket for what?' Apparently he'd wrongfully assumed that it was gonna be another day. 'Corned beef and cabbage, my folks always made it for St. Patrick's Day. That or we'd go to an Irish pub for lunch.' Thinking back to it, Corpse had met y/n in one such pub a year prior on the aforementioned day.
'Did we meet because of--?' Lifting his head from their shoulder. 'Yea, we did. But that was a coincidence, wasn't supposed to work that day.' The usual violinist unable to play as they'd inexplicably broken their wrist. 'Do you do the whole pinching thing?'
'No, you can still go out in your dark aesthetic,' playful teasing at how most of his wardrobe was the quintessential 'I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker color.' But so was theirs, Corpse's fashion taste rubbing off on them.
Corpse helped set the table, every time he tried helping in the kitchen, he'd immediately get booted by y/n. It'd been on the stove, simmering away for 3 hours. 'Corpse, could you get the balsamic vinegar? Should be in the fridge.' Somehow switching roles when Corpse gently nudged them aside once he saw them struggling. 'I got it, now how thin do you want it?' Gesturing with their thumb and pointer.
'You sure you like it? Not too tough is it?' Corpse, placing down his silverware, grabbed y/n's hand. Running his thumb in circles against their wrist. 'It's perfect, fiddler.' Kissing their cheek. 'Thanks, stranger.'
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domxmarvel · 2 years
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“Your style”
Masterlist
Pairing: Corpse husband x Female!Reader      
Words:311
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You normally never cared about your outfit,you never really bothered to dress up. Your style was just casual and comfy,but you knew your boyfriend was into the e girl style which was almost the opposite of your style. Although it did intrigue you,you spent hours scrolling through photos and you understood why he liked this style. You were so intrigued that you decided to try it out and see his reaction.
“Hey,Corpse” You called out to him,standing in the doorway to his recording room. Thankfully he was editing something so you didn’t walk in on him filming. He was just staring at you,still not saying anything “Do you like it?”
“You know I think you look good in anything” He got up and walked up to you “But why are you dressed up like this?” He asked before his eyes widened “Y/N,I love the way you look you don’t have to change because you think that I like this more”
“Corpse,I’m not changing. I just wanted to see your reaction and I only dressed up like this because I wanted to” You stood on your toes to kiss his cheek.
“You look really good in that though” 
“There’s one more part to this outfit,close your eyes” He did as you asked,the last part was a facemask that looked like the one his character wore. “You can open them now”
“That looks even better” You spun around to show off the whole outfit,before taking off your mask to kiss him. 
“Should I wear this more often?”
“That depends on how fast you want it to get ruined” Immediately his tone shifted and he pinned you to the wall.
“On second thought,maybe this was a bad idea” You laughed but he didn’t,he was completely serious. 
“I wasn’t joking,babygirl”
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enderfenderdragon · 4 days
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what do you think?
i've been thinking and watching corpse husband, sam and colby and just paranormal investigating.
what do you guys think about sam and colby having corpse husband do a video or episode with them?
just a thought
and i am aware that corpse husband has stepped away from content creation.
im not saying that i want this to happen.
im not saying im gonna do anything bad if this doesn't happen.
im just puting out my thoughts for you guys who watch corpse husband and/or sam and colby content.
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SCP and SCP P1
SCP AU BC I LOVE THEM AND I THINK IT LOWKEY FITS CORPSE (not in a bad way scps are rlly fucking cool) tw: needles, blood SCP-096  aka Corpse   Euclid  Will chase down and devour any victim who views its face.
SCP-939    aka Yn    Keter A red quadrupedal predator who can mimic the voices of its victims.
Yn was strapped to a stretcher; her body hurt; her head hurt; everything hurt. She peered around and turned to face the doctors, who assured her that she was well and asked her to calm down. When a pink-haired girl remarked that Yn could fully trust her based on her aura, Yn took a deep breath and said, "Where am I?" " You're at the scp lab," the pink-haired female answered. Yn whimpered while tugging on the straps.
"sh sh you're ok Yn I'll take care of you, I promise, and I'm going to unbuckle you right now, but you have to be very calm with me, okay," Niki said. Slowly nodding, Yn glanced at the two other doctors: one was a tall, with brown hair who wore spectacles, and the other was a mean-looking, shorter bald man. "Hey Yn calm down that Jack and Wilbur they won't hurt you," Yn snarled as the bald one -Jack moved toward the pink-haired woman. 
Yn's arm was grabbed by Jack as he rolled his eyes. When the straps were removed, Yn jumped up and growled as her skin started to turn red, her one pair of legs had changed into four long, red ones, spikes had sprouted from her back, and she had a long tail. Her head had also changed to resemble a dog, and she was now 7.2 feet tall (pic at the bottom). Yn didn't like being touched at all.
Yn turned and ran along the hallways, twisting and turning till she came to a stop in front of dark cage. She then carefully stepped towards the enormous cage and slowly sniffed at it as she calmed herself her 7'2 frame shrunk back to (ur height) If Yn had been in her Scp form, she could have sworn her tail would be wagging as she kept peeping into the glasses and watching as a man hurried past and into the back corner, one red eye stared back at her.
A different voice yelled, "Yn come on sweetie you can't be back here," causing Yn jump and turn around. Niki was standing next to a purple-haired girl with two black horns protruding from her head, and Yn whimpered and spun around to peer inside the cage. Niki approached her and said avoiding looking in, "That's SCP-096 or Corpse as he calls himself." Yn observed as Niki pressed a red button and asked, "Hey Corpse, how are you today?" "Who's that," a deep voice responded. Niki smiled while continuing to avoid looking at the SCP. "This is SCP-939 or Yn," Niki sprang back as she heard a thud on the glass.
Yn couldn't help but fixate on the man.  Niki said, "Yn, come on, let's leave Corpse alone." Yn whined and glanced at Niki  "If you behave for testing, I'll allow you visit, if that's okay with him." "I'm down," Corpse muttered as he examined the new SCP, a gorgeous SCP with e/c eyes and h/l h/c hair she was interesting. Yn twisted her head back to the Scp. He had curly black hair that fell into his face. A mask sat over the lower part and half of his face. The mask looked like a purple bunny.
Niki nodded and grinned, saying, "Come on, let's get this over with Yn." Yn instantly followed Niki, calling out, "Niki," while gazing at the girl. "Can you please tell me more about Corpse."  Niki chuckled, "Corpse is a very special SCP," and flipped to the correct page in her notes. "Corpse will become upset, cover his face, and cry if anyone ever dares to look at his face. Soon after, he will begin hunting the victim with the intention of killing them. Regardless of whether they are locked or not, doors and elevators cannot stop Corpse because it will rip them open in order to catch up to the individual."
"How do you stop him?" Yn questioned. Niki frowned, "you can't. Corpse would stop at nothing to kill anyone looks at his face." Yn frowned, "don't worry Yn. I don't think he'll hurt you.... I think he likes you," Niki said with a smile to the girl. Yn blushed because of Niki's teasing, "he doesn't."
----
The testing was simple enough—just a few needles, then Yn was made to enter her SCP form so they could test that—but as soon as anyone touched Yn, a huge bang would rock the lab, stopping everyone except Niki from working. Niki inquired, looking around, "you want to go visit Corpse now?" Yn wagging her tail as Niki petted her head. Yn nodded before standing up on her four legs.
Yn was almost like a shadow standing over Niki, if the person were 5'5 and the shadow was 7'2. Niki moved swiftly along the corridors. After entering Corpse's room while closely following him, Yn practically raced up to the glass, "Hey, pretty puppy." Corpse cooed,  Niki carefully observed the two before pressing the button  "Okay, here's what's happening Corpse, I'm going to leave you two, but you must behave and don't open the door," she said.
When Niki departed, Yn's form shrank back to normal and she was a girl again. She raced up to the control panel, picked up a mug to set on the intercom button, and then sat down in front of the glass. "Hey baby, how you doing, how was the testing? They didn't hurt you, did they?" he asked. "No, the lab would shake every time they touched me." Corpse smirked as Yn replied that, while he hadn't possessed that power, he had a friend who owed him a favour.
Yn grinned and said, "You're really pretty Corpse,"  "So are you, Yn," he said.
----
Yn dozed off against the glass but awoke as the doors were flung open and a furious Jack came in, followed by Niki. "Jack, just leave them," Yn growled. "NO WHAT DO YOU WANT SCP-096 TO BREAK OUT SO THEY CAN GET IT ON AND HAVE MORE MONSTERS," Jack said. Niki cried, "YN NO CALM DOWN," as Yn got up, her blood boiling with rage. " You get back to your ca"-, Jack glared at Yn as he turned around. When Jack's gaze first landed on SCP-096's exposed face, everything stopped and the sound of wailing filled the room. When Yn glanced back, she saw the corpse sitting with his face covered and his shoulders shaking.
In an instant, Yn dashed to Niki, altered into her SCP form, and stood over her. The cage's glass broke as Corpse stepped through it, eyes fixed on Jack. Jack stumbled back and collided with Yn's legs who shoved him to Corpse. She then turned and sat in front of Niki. As Jack screamed, the sounds of Corpse's cries faded, and everything fell silent. Then, Yn felt a hand touch her back Yn instantly pulled away forcing herself back into her human form and hugged Corpse, cuddling up to him. Corpse joked, "we're definitely going to get in trouble for that."
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lorarri · 11 months
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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍! ─ 𝐋𝐍𝟒 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ lando and Y/N's secret date in interrupted they decided to reveal their relshiaoship relationship in the most chaotic way ❩  ─ pairing . . . ❨ lando norris x fem! streamer! reader ❩  ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ repost - this fic was inspired by a convo that I had with @kiryoutann on the way back from the airport, where I saw a karen in real-time in a macdonald, and I used niachu as a face claim cuz I luv her and I thinks she is super cute ❩
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❨ taglist | masterlist ❩
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yourinstagram . 12hr ago
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seen by landonorris corspehusband and 36,960,994 others
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yourinstagram
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liked by landonorris valkyrae and 25,950,187 others
yourinstagram you know you have made it when even karen's kids know who you are ps: she also ruined my date
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user I hope yall understand now why I gay ⤷ user fr she is the biggest bi panic in the whole world
emmalangevinxo so your telling me I lost my wife to a man... ⤷ yourinstagram don't worry em I'm still yours on the dl ⤷ emmalangevinxo you better be or that man is dead ⤷ yourinstagram bold of you to assume the person I went out with was a man... ⤷ emmalangevinxo sorry I didn't mean to assume anyone's gender ⤷ yourinstagram #emmaisoverparty ⤷ user lol their friendship is elite
user iconic
user wake up babe, Y/N is being a bad bitch
pokimanelol send me that bitches address and I will be having words ⤷ yourinstagram no need my queen I already handed her ass to her ⤷ pokimanelol I have raised you well
sandrasock thank you so much for the help don't know what I would have done without you ⤷ yourinstagram np babe I wasn't just going to stand there at let that bitch talk to you like that
emmachamberlain queen behavior ⤷ yourinstagram coming for the queen herself i'm in heaven
user omg sandrasock is the waiter from that video user ⤷ user yeah that is wait does that mean Y/N was one of the people yelling at the Karen to fuck off ⤷ user but there was a man yelling as well who could that have been? ⤷ user think back to that twitter threat and lando also liked the post ⤷ user holy fuck
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YOUTUBE CLIP :: Y/N AND LANDO SECRET DATE IS INTERRUPTED, SO THEY PICK A FIGHT WITH THE KAREN RESPONSIBLE
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STREAM CLIPS :: 19TH FEB 2023 STREAM | YOURTWITCH PLAYS VAL AND TALKS TO CHAT
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landonorris . 12hr ago
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seen by charles_leclerc lewishamilton and 30,784,234 others
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lando.jpg
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liked by yourinstagram valkyrae and 45,760,997 others
lando.jpg karaoke with friends
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user this is the first time lando has posted on his jpg in the last 8 weeks ⤷ user now everyone thank Y/N for bringing it back
user rae, corpse, pewdiepie, tina, toast, dream, and jack liked ⤷ user so this confirming then ⤷ user no just cuz they post each other and her moot friends like don't mean they together ⤷ user but he called her baby on his stream though
yourinstagram the best of friends ⤷ lando.jpg only for you ⤷ youinstagram 💋💋💋 ⤷ user okay now I'm confused are yall dating or nah
user BABE WAKE UP LANDO POSTED Y/N ON HIS JPG
user not my wife and my husband cheating on me together
user if they streamed together i would die ⤷ user OMG SAME
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STREAM CLIPS :: 21ST FEB 2023 STREAM | YOURTWITCH AND LADNO NORRIS LOSE BRAIN CELLS AND MAKE CHAT FEEL SINGLE WHILE CHATTING
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yourinstagram
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liked by landonorris danielricciardo and 50,987,874 others
yourinstagram papaya is out the bag after 8 months
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landonorris
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liked by landonorris danielricciardo and 50,987,874 others
landonorris 8 months with my true love and Y/N
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queenendless · 4 months
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❤️‍🩹Tough Love (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️‍🩹
A/N: This is a paid commission I wrote, requested by @anime-lover1234
Content warning: JJK AU with lots of angst, hurt/comfort, short injured teacher/sorcerer reader with lots of boo boos, overprotective!upset!SatoSugu hubbies yall.
Haibara alive in this AU, Nanako and Mimiko are first years here with Yuji Megumi and Nobara and they're your students too. Plus Gojo can heal others in this AU.
AND NEARLY 7K LONG SO THERE!
*Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like and follow instead.
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You wanted to impress them.
You wanted to prove your worth in battle.
But things went far off the deep end.
It all began that one sunset evening.
As a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, you were a perfect match for the Grade 1 curse spirit lurking in the forest near an abandoned school rumored to be haunted after closing down due to allegations of murderous cover ups.
As you pulled down the Curtain, the cool winds blew at your hair, swaying along with your black attire, as the sun was setting for you exorcized the curse at last.
You were turning, ready to return to Haibara-kun who was waiting by the car parked out front, when you felt a stir in the air.
You sensed it further deep in the thicket.
Another cursed spirit.
Small … but on the highest level.
Curiosity and cockiness came in, seeping into your being, compulsively drawn towards your next – spontaneous – assignment.
It was a tall skinny humanoid one, blood painting its skin, eating one of the few mangled teen corpses strewn about the splattered wrecked tents of the makeshift campsite.
"Forgive me. I couldn't save you all." You muttered, cursed energy pulsing through your legs. “I'll avenge you by exorcizing that curse.”
Then you chanted quietly.
“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
With the barrier now placed; this one designed to keep curses in, you moved in.
With its eyes slowly turning to spot you bouncing off the branches, a swift blur dashing through the air, you warped right behind it, readying a blow right to its head.
But going toe to toe with a special grade cursed spirit on your own … you know it's not the same as it was before. But you were willing to take this golden opportunity.
Your fist blazing with cursed energy, ready to strike, even as —
The spike in its cursed energy went through the roof in that split second.
The atmosphere now pricked with that rotten flesh smog coming off its figure.
One that sprouted up to 10 ft tall.
Your cursed punch missed its mark.
Its sharpened hand going right into your side.
It was all a trap.
And you fell for it.
Hook line and sinker.
Your banshee cry startled the birds as you warped out of its grip, blood spraying out from the forced movement, skidding back on shaky limbs, its toxic touch seeping into your gash wound.
Flashes of white exploded in your mind.
The screams of your two mighty husband sorcerers were blowing out your eardrums.
Your vision was spotty but you felt the shift in its cursed presence spring forward through the air, barely dodging its swipe but feeling the tips of its claws scrape your stomach.
Deciding to draw it away, you became the injured bait, running for your life, warping out of its grab, ready to slam a kick down from above —
The sight of Satoru and Suguru bleeding and crumpled before you took its place. A twinge of fear stabbed your nerves — you were socked hard from the side, paralyzing your cranium, warping in your dazed state right before slamming into a tree.
Covering your ears in futility at the intrusive fake voices invading your eardrums, you squeezed your eyes over your unwillingness to see their gutted crimson painted selves.
"Don't leave us here!"
Toru.
"How could you leave us behind!?"
Sugu.
"It's not real. They're not here. They can hold their own. Even against bastards like you." You growled under your breath, keeping your eyes shut. "Don't see. Don't hear. Just feel."
Sniffing the air as cursed energy heightened your nostrils, you followed its putrid stench and nothing else. Trusting your sense of smell by amplifying it to near max — your limit.
Yet the debilitating toxins were slowing you down. You were getting lightheaded as blood trailed down your side and leg from that open wound. The punches and kicks you managed to land on it were barely making a dent on this creep.
This curse was sapping you of your strength, your swiftness, and your stability at an alarming rate. All you could do was dodge and weave. But didn't stop the onslaught of punches, kicks and slashes littering your body.
Those normal – now dead – teens were just fodder to it.
Now that you; a sorcerer, was in its domain, you became its toy. It would kill you. But first, it would take its time and play with you, prolonging its enjoyment as long as possible, wearing you down until you broke …
Down at the nearby rural town, outside a combini, a bespectacled man just stepped out, throwing away the wrappings of his just finished sandwich, turning to where the foul energies were resonating, seeing the barrier among the thicket of trees …
Curled into the ground, gashes, bruises and blood painted your now immobile body, keeping your head to the ground when you suddenly sensed a trusting presence slipping inside the veil, looming above you, followed by the anguished roars of the special grade collapsing.
"Don't let it hit you … its toxins can make you hallucinate … and can mimic voices." You rasped out the warnings, coughing out blood in the process, when his folded work jacket was pressed into your hands then against your crimson dripping side.
"Understood. Keep pressure on that wound. You've lost enough blood already." You choked out a sob of relief at that low rumbling voice.
Kento Nanami.
A fellow Grade 1 sorcerer. A dependable comrade and a close friend. One of incredible proficiency. Extremely precise aim. Evades with clever maneuvers. Reinforced body with cursed energy.
Tying his spotted tie around his fist, he went into Overtime. With his now stained clothed blunted sword in hand, Nanami struck in as many weak spots as he could create on that titan.
The red and black sparks of Black Flash streaking right off him to chop off its enormous arm.
His words were ringing in your ears as he revealed his hand intentionally to raise his power levels.
Slashing weak points in the surrounding pine trees, he follows it off with diving in to cleave off its legs by the knee.
Bringing it face down to ground level just to cleave its head in two horizontally.
Releasing both his binding vows to enact that single blow, Nanami's extension technique Collapse activated, causing those pine trees to come tumbling down to bury it for good measure.
Scooping you up at breakneck speed, you two got clear of the fallen debris, slipped through the decaying barrier.
Neither of you sensed it any more.
Nanami's eyes bore great disappointment down upon you from on high. "And here I thought you were better than to emulate those two's recklessness."
You felt your pride crack, your ego bruise, and your shame boosted over Nanami-san's disapproval when you felt yourself blacking out and your form became limp too quick for his liking.
Nanami's exasperated, panicking face getting all up in yours, his shouting going mute in your ringing ears, occurred before it all went dark.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Hastily calling Nitta-san to send the proper authorities to handle post cleanup in those woods, Nanami kept pressure on your wound in your stead as he situated you two carefully in the backseat as Haibara stepped on it; his wary eyes peeking in the rearview mirror now and then just so he wouldn't crash the car.
Watching in dismay as the only signs of you still alive was your little shifts of discomfort paired with frail mumbling, calling out for your loves, as fear worked its way to the front of your mind.
Hurriedly calling Shoko immediately after to meet them at the foothills of Mount Mushiro where the screeching halts of the car's tires skidded to an almost collision at the first torii gate.
The backseat was tainted red as Nanami tossed his stained business jacket aside then undid the buttons of your uniform jacket then tugged up your undershirt enough to show your biggest wound, allowing Shoko to lean over and work.
“What a way to spend my night." She huffed, concentrating as pure white light emanated off her hands and over your wound.
"She's lost a lot of blood already on top of fractured broken bones. And hallucinogenic, auditory ailments are still in effect even when curse has been exorcized." Nanami added, brooding from the added severity of the situation.
"What the hell, L/n?” Shoko heaved heavily, shedding sweat. "That curse's toxins are still in her system. It's making it difficult to fully heal her.” She was able to seal up your side wound though. “That will have to do for now. We need to move her."
"I'll join you all once I park the car." Haibara informed them, quickly leaning over from the driver's seat to kiss Nanami.
Nanami's tender gaze came Haibara's way before he got out of the car, carrying you, carefully treading up the steps, Shoko shutting the car door and hurrying behind him, with Haibara driving off and Nanami's bloody business jacket left discarded on the back seat.
Shoko spent the late night hours repairing your damaged self, collapsing over the metal surgical table from the overtime stress, panting from her energy spent. Blood pumped into a vein on your arm via the cannula connected to the drip. And your shallow breathing toppled with a cold sweat only made her push herself further as she squeezed your hand to keep you as grounded as possible and you continued murmuring the guys names in raspy, pleading whispers.
A harried Nanami patted Shoko's forehead with a clean spare rag lying on a counter while Haibara gave her a water bottle to hydrate.
Coming in and out of consciousness, tugged between horrish illusions and bleak reality, your once weakened pulse grew stronger as Shoko's RCT filled you, pushing the toxins out of your system.
So when you finally awoke, faded scars and bruises dotted your skin, front and back, leaving you groaning weakly as you clutched your pounding head. You felt like a truck had run you over.
"About time you woke up. Those fear toxins should be leaving your system now. But it did make healing you quite taxing for me. We can continue your checkup in the afternoon when we've both rested. But I could really use a drink right now.” Shoko apathetically griped as she carefully pulled the IV out of your arm just to place a cotton ball sticking to a bandage over the small leaking prick.
“Sorry about that, Shoko.” Feeling her gloved hand holding your still sore one, you barely squeezed back. "I failed to exorcize that special grade … I'm sorry I made you all overwork because of my screw-up." Your guilt stricken face struck their hearts.
"Nitta-san made sure the bodies were collected … what was left of them. Just count yourself fortunate that the curse was just dragging it out when I arrived. Never underestimate them." Nanami chastised you at the end, his goggles currently off, sternness laced in his eyes.
"Please … don't tell the guys. It's bad enough I couldn't exorcize it by myself. If they find out, they'll never let me live this down. Satoru especially." You weakly pleaded, struggling to sit up but able to get up on your bum as Haibara pulled you up.
"They'll find out sooner or later. And there'll be hell to pay if you choose to omit it from them. I will not partake in that sort of nonsense." Nanami griped, dreading the world flipped on its axis once your husbands found out.
"They'll never want to leave my side after this! They're already dealing with workloads of missions as is! Adding this to their pillars of stressful shit … I just need to be right as rain ASAP."
"No such thing as stress free in our line of work." Shoko bluntly stated.
"Gojo-san and Geto-san would be heartbroken if you kept this from them." Haibara frowned, personally wounded.
"They'd be even more wrecked that this happened and they weren't there to stop it …" Anxious guilt raked your bones.
A hand plopped into your hair, brushing it gingerly. “Your foolish pride as a sorcerer better be worth it if you're prepared for what will come of this endeavor." Nanami's foreboding didn't stop you from embracing him around his waist, pressing your face in his stomach, humming as Haibara gently hugged you from behind, and Shoko smiled nonetheless at the cute scene, especially at Nanami's sternness lessening and patting your head some more.
Still too out of it to walk on your own, you were pushed out in a wheelchair by Haibara, straight back to the dorms, stating he would stay in the room beside yours in case you needed any aid for the night, needing to head out in the morning alongside Nanami.
Carrying your ruined uniform clothes in the recyclable bag Shoko kept them in, you set them aside as you limped about to change into familiar comfier PJs you kept on hand in your old dorm room closet whenever you had to crash at the school grounds.
Pulling your phone out of the zip lock bag it was kept in thanks to Shoko too, you had seen it was still on.
They had been messaging you all night. Notifications of your group chat popping up on your lock screen.
But you just … felt too ashamed and embarrassed to reply back.
So you turned it off.
Without them smushing you between them tonight, there was no comforting warmth keeping you safe and sound.
And the aftermath of those horrific illusions and their copycats speaking during and post battle still lingered in your memory. Tittering between life and death, you were trapped within your worst nightmare yet.
Their disapproving glares.
Their cold voices.
Turning their backs on you as they walked into the foggy embrace of bloodshed against your voiceless cries and your wavering hand fruitlessly reached out into nothingness.
So going back to sleep was the last thing you wanted.
But even so, being in your old single dorm bed, your quiet sobs swarmed the room, your pent up agony painting your pillow in tears, stewing internally over wanting to suffer your follies alone versus wishing more than anything to have Toru and Sugu embracing you to chase all those bad dreams and fears away like they have always done.
Your phone stayed isolated on the small wooden bedside table, plugged in and charging. In silence.
Meanwhile, in a hotel, nestled in the Saitama prefecture that lies above Tokyo…
"Well, the twins are sleeping. Their mission definitely exhausted them both." Suguru softly informed, returning to his partner's side after checking on the girls in the room across from theirs.
A pouty Satoru groaned miserably, splayed out like a moody pancake across the bed, puppy eyes trained on his phone. "Suguru~! She's not answering me~!”
Now splayed out beside him on their shared hotel bed, Suguru ruffled Satoru's poofy hair. "Perhaps she's sleeping."
"She always answers me though! She didn't even send me a cute kitty gif~! The injustice!" Satoru cried, shoving his phone screen right in his best friend's face.
Suguru pushed Satoru's phone aside, pulled out his own from his sweatpants and sent a heart your way. And yet, it was not even read on your end. His forehead creased with worry. "No response for me either … I do hope nothing bad has happened.”
Satoru slung an arm around Suguru's neck, pulling himself snug against him, frowning vividly. "I miss her."
Suguru plopped his cheek atop Satoru's noggin. "So do I. The sooner we finish here with our own cases, the sooner we can have her in our arms again. Until then," Suguru brushed aside Satoru's snowy bangs to smooch his velvety forehead, tenderly grinning. "We'll just have to keep each other company~"
Now that piqued Satoru's intrigue, cheekily giggling as he rolled them over so the raven head could straddle him. “Nothing wrong with that~”
Suguru quickly turned the side table lamp off before engaging in a long, sensual make out with his smirking mate, whisking the night away.
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
Your new strategy going forward?
Keep your phone off.
Give off the illusion of still being out in the field, doing assignments far off in the distance.
Stay locked up in your old room except for Shoko's treatments and bathroom breaks.
Until you were all patched up; no visually alarming marks blemishing your skin, you wouldn't let any aside from those that already knew find out.
Not your students.
NOT your men.
By the time you had awoken, Haibara had already left as informed. His sticky note he left on your bedside table with morning greetings and hopes to see you soon followed by a scribbled smiley face did turn your frown upside down.
But it meant you were the only one left in the dorm as your throbbing self painstakingly grabbed some long sleeved apparel outta the closet and changed before putting on some slippers. It was fall now, slowly transitioning to winter, so it was the perfect cover up to be snugly dressed.
You had just gotten outside when you noticed the trio heading to the torii gate exit.
Yuji sniffing the air was what alerted you; skidding to a halt as he was literally across from you on the other side of the long stone pathway, turning to eye you with an unpleasant awkwardness. Running over, his nose dove in closer to get a deep long whiff of you to your jitteriness.
He was your best student in terms of enhancing his senses to their peak with cursed energy. And one you cherished like your own pride and joy. Your pure son.
“L/n-sensei … you're injured. And you look restless. Did something happen?” His eyes became glassy saucers.
Your game plan was on the rocks now. Super human senses at work!
“Hey! The sooner we finish our mission from that blindfolded madman, the sooner I can get to shopping! So move it! No offense, sensei!” Nobara snapped out loud, waiting by the gate, curious what was occurring but impatient to wrap things up for her own reasons.
“Cone on Itadori! We're burning daylight!” Megumi coaxed.
“Alright alright, I'm coming!” Yuji's voice then softened for just you two to hear. “Sensei, whatever’s going on, just … take it easy, okay?”
Your heart swelled at his considerate caring nature like the precious boy he is, smiling thankfully. “I will. Thanks.”
“Welcome back.” That genuine smile of relief and joy of Yuji's almost made you tear up; your swelling up heart touched by his words, doing your best to smile through the soreness as you waved at the boy, saluting back to you, joining his friends, and heading off.
You started uncomfortably limping on your way the moment you students were out of eyesight. Shoko met you halfway, presenting a new wheelchair for you to make traversing more easier. “Sorry but Nanami-kun wanted me to remind you to work on your report about last night. We can head to the faculty office first. Besides, you look ready to topple over.”
You internally groaned at the stingy procedures, expected to recount your near death experience down to the last detail; literally occurring just last night, sending a grateful look her way. “What would I do without you, Shoko?”
“Let's just say I'm better off with you in my life … and I know I'm not the only one.” Apathy gave way to relieving passion in her gaze that you looked away to brush your wet eyes. And you both left it at that as she wheeled you the rest of the way.
Flash forward to some time later …
“I can't believe you going gung ho back there cost me my chance to hit up that sale at my new favorite boutique, you boneheaded idiot!” Nobara bit out.
“Okay okay, I get it! Go easy on my shoulder, Kugisaki!” Yuji yelped in pain at how much she was fussing as she and Megumi helped him walk since he took the brunt of the hits in their latest mission.
“Always ready to put yourself on the line for us … we can handle ourselves, you know, doofus.” Megumi was less harsh, making sure not to hit his shin against Yuji's stabbed one; wrapped in the torn sleeve of Yuji's uniform to stop the bleeding.
Yuji noticed the tender gaze his spiky haired friend gave him, smiling in recognition, chuckling sheepishly. “Protective instincts, I guess.”
“Serves you right, idiot.” Though Nobara and Megumi spoke such mocking words, they were softly spoken, still irked but also grateful they're all still standing.
The moment the trio splurged through the morgue door, spotting your bare back littered with bumps and wide slash marks had them faltering as their short beloved teacher and practically mother figure was in this state.
“WHAT THE HELL?!”
Their unified exclaims startled Shoko enough to press too hard on a red welt on your forearm, causing your excruciating shout.
You slapped your palms over your mouth, mortified at legit blowing your cover out loud.
Due to the fact that Shoko at the moment got a sudden phone call while examining you.
From THEM.
“Shoko, what was that?” Suguru demanded.
“Sounds like a wounded animal!” Satoru exclaimed.
“Takes one to know one. I have work to get back to. Bye bye~” Shoko's false perky jab reverts back to her usual demeanor after hanging up on them. “I would say stay hidden until everything settles down but I'd be lying. I know 25 mins away means those two lunatics will floor it by the end of the day. I wish you the best of luck, my dear.” Her sympathetic pat on your shoulder did not calm down those anxious belly butterflies.
“I knew you were hurt but … OKASAN WHO DID THIS TO YOU!?” Yuji's own wounds were forgotten as he scrambled over to you, blubbering out waterfalls, throwing off everyone by legit calling you mom out loud but too overwhelmed to notice right away.
You pulled your shirt back down, flushed in shame. “Special grade got the upper hand on me. Nanami-san saved me. Sorry to have you three see me like this. So please … keep this between us? Please?” You literally prayed for it.
“For my favorite sensei, my lips are sealed.” Nobara assured.
“Geto-sensei may be less hysterical … Gojo-sensei not so much … but those two together … oh God.” Megumi paled up at the reality.
“The calm …” Nobara ominously started.
“Before the shit storm.” Megumi drearily ended.
“Uh, while I'm not a big fan of keeping things from Gojo-sensei, if it's what you want, then I'll do it.” Yuji, skeptical but willing to make you happy, blushed pink as you embraced him loosely due to you still not being at full strength yet.
“Thank you.” You weeped.
Megumi, Nobara and even Shoko joined in on that hug.
Meanwhile, back in Saitama, again, nestled outdoors in front of a patisserie.
“That was suss as hell.” Gojo lowly rumbled, sitting under the umbrella covered table on one end, stuffing his last – now smooshed – Maneki Usagi Manju from his hands straight to his mouth.
“We know that shout all too well …” Geto's eyes teemed with cynicism, sitting across from him, sipping Sayama tea in one hand, his phone in the other.
Their mentality synced, restlessness in their bones, their six senses flaring up with red alerts.
Something did happen to you.
Something big.
Something bad.
With their cases long since finished; not surprising, their leisure time was spent sightseeing, tasting the treats the places they visited had to offer. Meaning more sweets for Gojo to savor. However, his gut along with Geto's twisted at the thought of you in trouble.
“Girls, gather your things. We're heading back now.” Geto firmly spoke while speed dialing Ijichi-san to come pick them up.
The twins, sitting at the table beside theirs, stopped taking selfies of themselves with their cutely decorated drinks at his announcement. “Yes, Papa~!”
Throughout the ride back to the school; Ijichi-san fidgeting and sweating bullets at his seniors stewing in silence, panicked thoughts raced through the duo's minds.
The one constant that kept coming up?
Whatever was going on with you …
They were getting to the bottom of it.
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The sky changed from blue and calm to orange and warm.
Getting healed by Shoko before being ushered out to continue healing you, the trio crashed in the common room slash longue when the sight of Nanako and Mimiko waving and smiling as they entered with bags of gifts and snacks to share and give had the trio beaming at the twins safe return.
However, the sight of their teachers coming round the corner into view, radiating such potent agitated auras, sent the trio's hearts racing in dread.
It spelled the first sign of doom.
Gojo zipped up right to them, a wide ass smile on his face, waving with bags of souvenirs on the other arm, cheerfully greeting them all.
“Oh my precious students~! Your esteemed adoring sensei has returned! And I come bearing gifts for you all! As thanks for a job well done! But on the condition that you answer me truthfully! Do you happen to know what our dear Y/n has been up to as of late~?”
“Nope.” Megumi kept a straight face.
“Nada.” Nobara is the same.
“We know nothing.” Yuji as well.
Their calm blunt responses had Geto narrow his eyes at their stoic behavior, the twins shuffling to him in nervousness at the tense situation, and Gojo's fake smile fell, becoming so straight faced. “Hmm … okay then. Hold these, please and thanks.”
Dropping their bagged gifts into their arms, Gojo warping away was the second sign.
Appearing again before them, with a squirming distressed you in his arms, was the final nail in the coffin.
Gojo hastily set you down, firmly grabbed your sweater sleeve covered hand, and tugged that sleeve up to your shoulder. Even with the blindfold on, you could picture his Six Eyes shrinking to dots at the colorful splotches and littering your once unblemished skin.
“What the hell?” Gojo's shaky raw voice had you gulping.
“How did … when did … Y/n explain yourself!” Geto's perturbed face turned to aggravation.
Keeping your head ducked, you could picture their eyes bearing those same cold, disappointing glazes those curse's nightmares forced you to bear. Your state of panic got triggered!
You wince in pain, trying in vain to tug your hand free of Gojo's iron hold. Warping into the morgue, literally sweeping you off your feet, greeting Shoko, then warping out of the morgue all meant your recovery got cut short.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going!?" Gojo jested, pulling your back against his front, caging you in his hold, knowing to restrain himself on the pressure, gritting his canines at seeing those same colorful marks on the back of your neck. “You better start talking.”
"You mustn't strain yourself any more, either! You can barely walk as is!" Geto irritatedly griped, wrapping his arms around your other one, leaving you wobbling, therefore needing either of them as counterbalance.
"I'll be fine! I'll get better! I'm innocent!" You babbled desperately, wiggling like a worm, to your utter dismay and their annoyance.
Geto narrowed his eyes, downtrodden. "Have you no shame, Y/n? And you three knew about this, didn't you?!” His eyes flared up with scorn as his face whipped to the trio, having all three flinch back at the irritated sight.
“And after all the trouble I went through to get you all gifts!” Gojo dramatically complained.
“Unnecessary to be honest.” Megumi dryly rebuttal.
“My tastes far exceed yours, anyway.” Nobara throwing shade.
“I'll take them all, thank you very much! I felt like telling you Gojo-sensei, I swear! But L/n-sensei was in pain and I just wanted to help her!” Yuji blabbed.
“Softie.” Mimiko and Nanako teased smugly.
“Yuji~!” Gojo weeped.
“I told them to keep quiet. Shoko and Haibara too. Nanami wanted no part in it. It was all my fault!”
Your pleas only riled them up more. Their eyes returned to you, burning intensely, straight into your soul as they cushioned you between their built bodies just like a mating press.
You gasped as Geto's hand slid under your top, his calloused touch sending anxious tingles through you, feeling that tender scar left on your side, lips trembling and eyes wavering. “Honestly believing you could pull the wool over our eyes, dearest? Ridiculous.” Geto belittled.
Gojo scoffed, suddenly frightening as he towered behind you, alarming everyone besides Geto as he pulled down his blindfold to stare down at you now with those glaring Six Eyes. "Screw that. This isn't panning out well for you, darling. Not at all.”
Your weak whines of protest made the teens cringe with pity. Your short self was literally trapped between giants. The atmosphere was so thick with tension that trying to cut it with a knife would mean getting obliterated. GoGe might as well be a bomb.
But to see tears swell up in your e/c eyes and trail down your cheeks, glistening from the guilt, embarrassment and pain, everyone in that room froze in paling realization.
You were the actual bomb.
And you just got set off.
"DON'T HATE ME!"
Your heartbroken scream had the strongest duo become the weakest. Their grips laxing, their tunnel vision eroding, their resolve dusting, as you pulled away freely, tugging your sleeve back down to cover the damage, sat down on the couch to your buckling knees relief, and cried in your tarnished hands, becoming a mess for them all to see.
"L/n-sensei no!!! Please don't cry!!!" Yuji went into a panicked frenzy, squatting down before you, frazzled as you bowed your head against his jacketed shoulder, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you, sweating bullets at the sight of his once mighty teachers now becoming statues at this turn of events. "None of us hate you! It's okay! Everything's gonna be okay! R–Right guys?!”
"You two are the scum of the Earth, you are! Harassing an injured emotional woman!" Nobara yelled abhorrently in their stunned paled faces, pulling out tissues from her small flowered package she kept in her belt pack along with her cursed tools to offer you. “Here sensei. Take these.”
"I won't blame her if she files for divorce." Megumi gripes under his breath, sitting down beside you, timidly rubbing your back in comforting circles. "L/n-sensei, you need to calm down and rest."
“Geto-sama, do something about this! Mama is a wreck now!” Nanako was willing to put her foot down at this insolence.
“This is depressing.” Mimiko patted your head from behind the couch.
Your desperate need to melt into a puddle and just die from utter disgrace was dashed when you felt Gojo approaching.
His serious blazing eyes spoke for themselves to let him handle you himself, but those kids hesitated letting this slide when the gentle shushing of their usually obnoxious teacher threw them for a loop. Sitting down in the free space on your other side, gently brushing your hair, he leaned in to your ear to confess —
"I'm sorry." You stiffened at his words as they rumbled against your ear. While you were partly miffed and scared due to his attitude, his gentleness returning made you drawn to him all over again, recollecting how much you did miss him — miss them both actually cause OF COURSE YOU DO!!!
Weaving his hand through your hair, he carefully pulled your head to rest against his chest instead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a shaky vulnerability leaking into his voice. “I'm so sorry.” You dare set down your hands to see his eyes as glittery blue glass. "I shouldn't have snapped like that. I hate seeing you cry like this.” His wandering hand had his fingertips weave through yours to squeeze your hand benignly. “Especially when you're all banged up. I just …”
“I'm deeply sorry as well.” The moment Suguru sat down in Megumi's spot, the kids had already stood back and watched with anticipation as his arms gently hugged your waist from behind, kissing your blotchy cheek, regret radiating on his face. “We both shouldn't have approached you so harshly. We were out of line. We just …”
They were both at a loss for words.
Taking a chance, a risk, a leap of faith, you decide to tell them the truth, rather preferring for them to hear it from you than read it from a document.
“The other night … a special grade curse popped up just when I finished my case … I wanted to prove myself … I thought I could take it on … but Nanami saved me in the end. I was … ashamed … anxious … afraid. It showed me … illusions … nightmares … of you both suffering and abandoning me … and I panicked when you both got upset earlier … I just – !”
“You haven't properly rested at all.” Geto delicately gripped your chin and turned your face to see the dark circles under your now red eyes. “Beloved, you of all people should know that keeping your troubles bottled up inside does no one any good! Least of all hiding your pain from us when we can help!”
“You can't always be there for me … I can't keep weighing you down … but I can't hold my own when it really counts … I'm never gonna be at your level … even as a Grade 1 … by myself … I'm not good enough.” Your eyes squeezed shut, deep seated in this emotional turmoil.
“Yes you are!” The sharp conviction Satoru had made your eyes snap back open. It got your attention attentively. “We still think of them … Kuroi … Amanai … what we could have done differently or better … had we not failed them. If anything happened to you … and if we weren't there to stop it … and it already has … then what the hell’s the point in being the strongest when we can't protect those that matter to us the most?!” You shook as his tears hit your nose, rubbing his wet nose against yours with those beautiful blue eyes now red with compassion looking into yours, for even his watery smile is breathtaking. “You've never been weak. Not to any of us. You kept us together through all the shit thrown our way since that day. I don't need Six Eyes to tell me this truth … that you are the most beautiful, genuine, strongest soul I know you are inside and out.”
“You're the very reason I gathered the courage to reach out to everyone when my resolve wavered … when I lost my way … it's difficult to wear a heartfelt smile in this world …” Sugu's voice slipped for a moment, his almond eyes twinkling as his wet cheek nuzzled yours, pressing a timid kiss to the corner of your lips, another breathtaking smile amiss the waterfalls. “But you brought back my smile. You helped me find a better way … I'm no longer alone. So you don't get to be either. Not anymore.”
Unified, their cracked voices caved.
“We can't lose you too.”
You breathed in their natural scents, submerged in their warmth, coveted in their supportive treasuring embrace, their crying faces resting against either side of your neck, just to be as close to you as possible without hurting you more so than that curse and themselves already have.
In this moment of vulnerability, the strongest duo put down their guards just to show you how immensely you've always mattered to them. Your pain, your sadness, your doubts … they're theirs too.
Your hand that was still being held by Satoru weaved down to rub against Suguru's knuckles, drawing him in to lay his hand atop both yours. “I feel the same way.”
“But damn Y/n, you scared us shitless." Gojo sighed exasperated, now chewing and suckling hungrily on your red cheek just to hear your raspy squeals for their amusement.
"Immensely." Geto hummed conspiratory like, chewing and tugging on your other cheek for good measure, your squeaking making them smirk.
“I'm sorry!” You garbled out, mewling.
Suguru popped off your cheek, pecking it several times apologetically. “We're sorry too. We're just relieved that you're alive.”
Satoru popped off your cheek as well, smooching the welt left in his wake. “Still injured though, but I'll finish healing you myself.”
Catharsis finally came as your waterworks were one of relief. “I missed you both so much~!!!”
"Yosh, yosh~” Satoru doting on you, petting your head like the cutie you will always be in their eyes. “We missed our cutie patootie too~” Now that got you to smile at last, shedding tears of joy, as your chortled laughs made them smile as well.
The kids left you three a while ago when the mushiness kicked in. The twins giggled as Megumi summoned his wolf Shinigami for them to ride on so they could stop pestering him, right before he buried his bashfully blushing face in the crook of Yuji's neck who carried him and Nobara with ease from her own pestering, heading off to do whatever.
Now drained from the mental and emotional trip you went through, all you wanted now was sleep.
And to be honest?
So did the guys.
Your old dorm bed would make do just this once. For old times sake. Warping you three there was easier on an already wiped Gojo, anyway.
Their uniforms, boots, and socks along with your slippers littered the floor.
The AC hummed in the background.
And the drawls of moonlight slipped through the curtains.
Tepid flustered gasps left your parted lips as Satoru sensually trailed his smooth sly hand across every inch of your backside under your top, healing you from that point as you relaxed.
You smothered your face in Satoru's snug black tee covered pecs as he ran his fingers through your hair, languidly brushing it to further soothe you, pecking your forehead. “It wasn't the same without you.”
Suguru carefully splayed on top of you from behind, warmth seeping through his snug white tee and into your cloth covered back, heatedly breathing down your flushed nape as his veiny giant hand caressed your bare tummy underneath your top as well as stroking your thighs with his other hand. “Having you to cuddle again, all snug in between us, truly feels like heaven.”
“No angel to sleep with … oh how did we cope without you~?" Satoru ranted quietly as he could for your sleepy sake.
Suguru gave him a sly smirk. “Satoru~”
Satoru chuckled, ruffling Suguru's loosely free hair, before resting that hand on Suguru's lower back. “Okay, it wasn't bad at all. Even so… can I please just keep us in this moment and never let each other go ever again?” Satoru gently begged.
“As long as I can get some shut eye. And new uniform garbs.” Your cheek nuzzled his chest, consenting in a yawn.
“Deal.” With Six Eyes now switched off, Satoru became heavy-eyed at the sight of his two favorite people in bed with him. Back together again.
“No more bad thoughts for us tonight.” Suguru languorously rumbled in your ear.
“Plus those nightmares will get a kick in the balls if they come back.” Satoru grumbled drowsily.
“If it's a curse, sure. Dreams, not so much.” You mumbled softly.
Satoru could feel your body start to reach the end of its recovery from his healing touch, trailing his hand from your back to cover your hand that rested on the front of his shirt where his heart lay.
Suguru's own hand traversed, resting atop Satoru's, all three splayed on his chest in the same exact spot.
You sagged as you felt the weight of all that battle damage lift right off you, for all the pain got replaced with fuzzy tingling warmth.
Shivering with delight, you felt those two curling in on you from both sides, their legs tangling with yours, as you all smushed in the middle, with Suguru's face against your shoulder and Satoru's in your hair.
“Toru … Sugu … I love you guys.”
Satoru breathed in your scent, smiling drowsily. “We love you too … so damn much.”
"Truly. We'd be lost forever if we never knew you.” Suguru mused languidly.
A tiny smile formed as you succumbed to your long awaited dreamland. “I … feel … the same.”
And the kiddies, poking their heads through the crack in the slide doorway, eyed you snug between those two in just their tees and boxers, your entangled limbed cocoon, the bed comforter halfway touching the floor, as gentle snores and breathing made up your guys personal symphony.
Taking some snapshots for potential blackmail material; basically on Nobara and Megumi's part, they left you three to rest.
Of course, knowing you three, you'll stay in bed all day tomorrow. Whether to sleep, talk, cuddle, make out, do the devil's tango — nah it's all of the above! Meaning no classes.
The weekend is free.
To unwind and reflect.
Your old room feels more homely now that they're there with you.
That night, you’re gifted with cathartic, stress relieving dreams where those two awaited you with smothering embraces and enriching laughter.
Through their tough, imposing, and fierce exteriors …
There lay the true blessings that are their empathy, passion and humanity.
Your chaotically lovestruck sorcerers.
And you, their heaven sent wife, will feel their love till the very end.
And even beyond.
For Infinity.
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Text
Safe Keeping | 4
Part 1 2 3 4 5
"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."
Sandor Clegane x Reader | 8k+ | cw: fem!reader, DEATH of characters/animals/monsters, POV shifts, mentions/depictions of violence, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional constipation, miscommunication, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny/violence, themes/mentions of menstruation/pregnancy/miscarriage, baby fever, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: ❗❗please proceed this chapter with caution. i killed a bunch of characters/animals (well and monsters but i think deserve lmao)!!! ALSO POV SHIFTSS!!!! originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here. also fyi i post this story on ao3 first
Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @j3nn-1
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The Hound found himself wrong about the thieving, wrong about the missing livestock. He was so wrong it nearly cost him lives, including his own.
He was so sure about himself when he went into the woods, so sure that he was going to find at least two men, at most five, luring sheep there. It was the men he was prepared for. Fuck the livestock, the farmers can get them back after he killed the fucks stealing them.
Ah, the farmers, barging into his wife's estate... into their house, into house Clegane. 
Fuck 'em, fuck the lot of them, complaining again, complaining about their sheep and their cows. He had enough of their yapping, now was the time to act.
Fuck 'em twice for being shocked when he said he'd go into the forest to kill the fucker causing all of them trouble.
The superstitious peasants warned him. The Hound heard; he even humored them by letting a few spring chickens, boy-soldiers in the making, 'aid' him as he went to the forest.
Between the young farmer's lad, Andrew, and the man-boy, Carter, who he had been training be a soldier, it was actually the Hound who was the one most frightened by that thing that stared back at them.
It looked as though it was twice his damn size. It was darker than tar, and stinkier than shit. It made an unholy sound before attacking them.
He doesn't remember what happened after that in all honesty. His instincts kicked in and he can't recall what he had done. All he knew was, in the end, the two boys were cheering and dragging a black corpse all the way back out of the woods.
The villagers looked at him. They walked towards him and shouted. It was not an unfamiliar greeting-- being pursued by villagers, and yet, it shakes him; it takes him off-guard. They come upon him and begin to weep at his feet. They thank him. They thank them as they hug each other. The thank him as they wave at him. They thank him as they touch his armor like a devout would touch an idol.
The Hound is perturbed.
"Thank you, milord! You killed the beast!"
"You saved our sheep!"
"You saved our families!"
"You saved our lives!"
The Hound was never one to back down, but Sandor found himself taking steps back when a group of children ran up to him and began to ask him how he killed it. Their little hands and big eyes demanded answers from him. His insides rise up to his mouth.
The children begin to talk about how they can go to the woods now.
"Oi!" Carter calls to the ones in front the Sandor, "you do know there's more than one woodland monsters, aye?!"
"But now milord Cligay killed one! He'll teach us how to kill the o'vers."
"It's Clegane. Lord Clegane! And even then, you buggers can't just play in the forest. The brown bears still live here."
"I haven't seen a brown bear!" a little girl cries out. She looks to the Hound, walking up to him, grabbing his hand, "there aren't any brown bears in the woods, right, milord?"
Sandor looks at the small thing. His hand burns at her touch. Her hand was not even hot, not even big enough to grasp half his palm and yet he feels lightheaded. He feels like he's going to pass out.
The Hound finds their sentiment to be all too much at one point. He grumbles he's going home; he's got much work to do. The villagers thank him as he leaves.
When he gets home, just as he gets near the gate, he beholds Lady Clegane, the people's champion, his poor bride. She is outside, speaking to some peasants; it was all she did as of late.
A breeze blows and her dress dances with the wind. Her hair follows as well, and along goes the air from his lungs.
She is the sun. He is a mountain trying to reach her.
Sandor, who hadn't realized that he stopped in his place to gawk, is shaken out of his trance when the stable boy opened the gates for him. The small child named Polly, about as old as his wife when she fled this place, nods at him and motions, "pardon, milord," he says nervously, "I didn't know you were waiting for me to open the gates."
The Hound looks at the boy as he walks in, "I wasn't," he gruffs, eyeing him as he passed, "don't worry about it, laddie."
Lord Clegane looks away from the stable boy when he hears the shrill cry of a babe. He spots the maester walking over to his wife with a wailing child in his arms.
He thinks about the letter he had to write to the Citadel, requesting a maester come to Brown Wood.
Lady Clegane thinks her husband's initiative for it stems from his sense of duty as a Lord, but she'll never know he did it for her, for her to know if she really did have a late blood cycle, or if she lost a baby. Maester Yannick told him it was, regretfully, the latter.
The Hound waited for his lady wife to tell him about it, to ask him to hold a mourning ceremony for the unborn child. She never did.
Sandor watches Lady Clegane willingly embraces the woman who thanked her up and down, over and under, for saving her baby. She tells the weeping woman that it was not her work but maester Yannick that saved the babe. Maester Yannick says it was not his work but the gods.
Sandor tastes something putrid in his mouth when his wife coos at the child, who immediately calmed when the maester reunited the small thing to mama. His insides tingle at the sound of his lady's laugh.
He curses under his breath when she turns to him. He realizes then he had stopped in his tracks again.
The Hound begins his march.
Lady Clegane greets him, but he is not strong enough to reply with a greeting himself. He doesn't know why he stops to tell her that he killed a woodland monsters though. She looked very shocked after hearing that.
He wonders if she was disappointed. He wonders if she wanted him dead.
She touches him and questions if he was injured. Sandor flinches and steps back. She recoils her hand quickly and wipes it on her skirt-- disgusted.
The Hound says she shouldn't worry her pretty squirrel head, then walks away.
His footsteps are heavy as he heads to his office. He didn't want to go through the fucking endless piles of paperwork, but the apprentice he had couldn't grasp basic mathematics quite yet, so, there he went, to go through paperwork in a musty office.
He wonders if doing this shit made a difference to her, or if she'd always see him for what he was: a groom, forced upon her as a joke from a stupid blonde boy; a beast with ill features and temper; a Hound.
He is almost tempted to look over his shoulder at the loud sound of baby's laughter. He doesn't, cause he wouldn't see anything but a wall of he did anyway.
He wonders when she'd ask him again, when she'd ask for a child from him.
He promises he'd be gentler this time, gentler.
He doesn't mean to be so rabid with her.
She just had such an ablaze spirit, she was so fierce, and so vivid that he found himself wanting to devour her whole-- a true predator.
He wishes he could be more than that. He could be more than that to her, but it's so hard to fill in to be someone you're not. The Hound was not a proper lord, he was not that pretty boy Alistair. He can only do so much.
Sandor would do much and more for her than that scrawny, faerie pretty-boy ever could.
She might not like it, but he'll do his best to give her what she wants, to give her a family in stead of the one she lost. She will never love him, but he knows she'll love all the children he could give her, and that was more than enough, more than he could ever hope for or deserve. 
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I carefully walk up to the office, clutching my hands together as I prepare myself to knock on the door.
I clear my throat and retell myself what I mean to tell my husband. My palms begin to gush like geyser. I dread the fight I know will be had because of this topic.
I let out a soft gasp when someone calls me from behind.
It was the stable boy, Polly. He had run up to bow and greet me good morning. I smile at him and reach out to him. I brush his hair back, "good morrow, Polly, dear."
The boy grins and bows again, "I'll be learning how to ride a horse soon, milady!"
I link my hands together as I chuckle, "my! Will you now? How awfully courageous of you."
The boy pushes his shoulders back, "it's no'ffin, milady. Just what a man ought to do. I would go to war for you, milady, I would!"
"My boy," shake my head, "I pray you never need to do such a thing. I hope you enjoy riding though. I find that I do not."
"Do you find riding scary? I wouldn't! I'll let you ride with me once I know how, promise," the boy nods as he places a hand on his chest.
"You are very kind," I smile, "I thank you for it, Polly."
The boy puffs his chest out and bows, "I'll be goin' then, milady!"
I chuckle as I watch Polly run off as quick as a rabbit.
My soul nearly leaves me when I turn around and see the Hound looming over me.
I gasp and step back. He reaches out to me and grabs my arm. He keeps me upright and leans down, "you better stop calling the boy dear." He releases me and begins to walk off, "he's already in love with you as is."
I blink rapidly at his words. I turn to him and watch him march away before scurrying after, "he's a child."
"Aye," says Sandor, "all the children adore you."
My stomach curdles at his words; I am unsure why. I rub my hands together, not sure what to make of myself, or what to reply.
"What were you doing outside my office?" he asks.
I run up in front of him and grab his arm, "there is something I needed to discuss with you."
Sandor stops. He looks at my hand on his arm, "can't it wait?"
I pull my hand away and shake my head, "I understand that you are very busy, my lord, but I-"
"Fine," he mutters, "I'll lay with you tonight."
My eyes widen and I topple back at his words, "what?"
The Hound steps forward, keeping me upright again, "that's why you're here, aren't you?" He releases me, "your bloods have waned."
I feel my face burn. I gulp and force a smile, "I-" I chuckle nervously and straighten up, "y-yes. My bloods have waned."
Sandor watches me closely.
I rub my neck and blink rapidly, "I thank you for your thoughtfulness," I dig my thumb nail into my pointer finger. I turn from my feet then to Sandor, "but that is not what I wished to speak about."
His face falls. It's not anything noticeable but I have become quite good at it, reading his face. He purses his lips then says, "be done with it then, I've got work to do, pretty squirrel."
I feel my face burn even more at his horrible nickname.
A group of women had been complimenting my dress when the Hound passed. I knew they did not know he would react that way, but it did not help the embarrassment I felt when the women asked my husband if he thought my dress suited me and he replied 'pretty for a squirrel'.
"I wanted to tell you that I... I still very much wish to be the one to speak to the people about their concerns," I am unable to look at him when I say this, "it is not because I think you are unfit for the task, my lord, but I have seen the way you act around them."
"Like a dog?"
I knit my brows deeply and look to him, "Daisy is a dog. And I love her very much."
"That makes one of us."
We stare at each other for a long, blistering moment. My throat constricts at his words, "... Sandor."
His face contorts. He scoffs and averts his gaze, "don't say my name like that."
My heart begins to race, it twists and clenches. I step forward and reach out to him, "I see how you try to listen, how you try to help, but it scares you-"
I gasp when he rips his arm away before I can even touch him. He grabs me instead though, ripping me close as he leans down, "I'm not scared of peasants."
My eyes water. It's not even because his grip hurt, but because it was as painfully clear as it could get that this man did not like me at all, no matter what I did.
The Hound mutters softly, "do what you wish," he releases my arm, "you want to do my work so badly then? Fine. I didn't want ya to do anything you're not meant to, but have it your way."
I scratch my eyes before my tears could fall. I try to look at him as I speak, but the tears threaten to fall when I do. Instead, I fix my eyes on the floor, "I do not do this to upset you, Hound. I do this because I mean to help you. I swear it."
He is deeply disturbed by the softness in which these words are spoken. Hearing himself be called Hound was unreasonably heart piercing.
"I do not like it when you are angry," I whisper, "it would have been fine if it was only directed at me, but you spur everyone around you."
I flinch when he calls my name.
I shake my head, "if it pleases you, lord, I will do as you said the other day. I will no longer speak to you. I will not bother you. I will not stand in your way." I step back and pick at my fingernails.
Sandor holds back from stepping forward.
"Maester Yannick has been giving me herbs to help with conception, but he said that I should be in good spirits when... consummating... I do not think we should do anything tonight--" I look to him through my wet lashes, "unless you want to--"
"No, I do not," he says coldly.
I gulp. Tears begin to stream down my face. My lips quiver. I shudder. Of course he doesn't want me.
I curtsy and walk off. I break into a sprint after a few steps, as I am no longer able to hold in my sobs.
Sandor watches this. He furrows his brows, unnerved by the interaction, gutted by the fact it ended in tears yet again. He replays the conversation. Was his touch truly that hard? He looks at his hand. He curses loudly and storms off to fuck all.
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Sandor wakes before the sky does. He opens his heavy lids and sighs. He turns to his right on instinct; he watches his wife stretch out her arms in the expanse of nothingness between them. He likes to think that she is reaching out to him. He likes to think that if he reaches back, it'll make everything fine between them.
But then again, it had never been fine between them in the first place.
He makes sure not to touch or move her. Last time he did, she woke up. She truly was a light sleeper.
He slowly gets up. He quickly gets dressed. The moment he gets out of the room, he heads to his office.
He's finished his work by the time he hears a dog barking. He looks to the window, the sun looks back at him. He stands, stretches, and walks over to the sill, pushing the curtains open. He sees her, Lady Clegane, cuddling the mutt she named Daisy. Fucking Daisy. Polly, the stable boy was waving a stick, but the bitch could not care less about it, too preoccupied by her master.
He watches Daisy lick her neck. He watches how she scolds the dog for it but giggles anyway. Sandor sniffles. His mind wanders to the one time he had his face pressed on her neck like that. Fucking dog.
He watches the pair go inside. The Hound heads to the dining room promptly after.
He mutters to himself, trying to decide how to start, "I don't meant to make you cry-- I keep making you cry-- Fuck-- .... I know you don't like me," he stops in his tracks before he can get to his destination. He mutters to himself some more.
Fuck it.
He hears the telltale patter of Daisy's paws. It makes his fingers tingle.
When he gets to the dining room, he furrows his brows at the emptiness.
Lucy gasps at the sight of him. She topples back then regains her composure. She puts the plate of food she was holding down on the table with a bang. She looks at him and curtsies, "your food, milord."
"Where is she?"
Lucy's glare darkens, "she is dining with the servants."
He chuckles drily. He feels disappointment. He feels hurt. He immediately plays it off, "pretty squirrel's finally had enough of me."
"WILL YOU STOP CALLING 'ER THAT!" Lucy bursts, taking the Hound off-guard.
They both stare at each other, as if equally as shocked by the outburst.
Lucy fumes. Sandor freezes. The former decides she's already spoken, so she might as well continue, "she is a lady! You took her for this," she motions vaguely. "You need her," she speaks firmly, "just as much as she needs you."
The Hound scoffs. His insides burn and curdle at the idea of the little girl needing a beast to keep her safe. He snaps, "well, go ahead and tell her I will gladly be her hound and breed her little monsters as thanks for her nice, warm castle!"
Lucy makes no attempt to hide the revulsion she feels at the sound of the hound's words.
"You know what," he snarls, "why don't I breed her right now as a thank you?"
Lucy's face drops. She runs up to the Hound when he begins to storm off. She crumples like paper when he shoves her away. He doesn't do it hard enough that she shoots off to the table, but it's enough for her to get the message: he was deadly strong.
Lucy does her best to stop him. She cries and begs and screams. She digs her heels into floor and yanks him back but it doesn't do much, it doesn't do anything.
The Hound only stops when he finally sees her.
Lady Clegane is laughing with the servants as they watch Daisy roll on her belly for food. She feeds the dog just as Lucy runs up in front of him, severely distraught and tear stained. Lucy pushes her hands on his chest and begs him to punish her instead.
The Hound is sickened when Daisy runs up to him and whines. He recoils his hand when the bitch licks it.
"Lucy?"
Sandor flinches at the sound of his wife's voice and turns the other way.
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I was in the middle of playing fetch with Daisy when she caught wind of something and ran off to the gate. Usually, this meant Sandor was home. Lo and behold, this moment was not any different.
I turn away immediately when we lock gazes.
The Hound had a large cut of meat on his shoulder. He grunts as Daisy barks and runs up to him, "fuck off, bitch."
He does his best to avoid the dog, nudging her away firmly with his leg as he walks up to a wagon and plops the hind of a cow on there. He hisses at Daisy when she gets on her two back legs and rests one good leg and bad one on his hips.
"Daisy!" I call.
She ignores me.
Sandor looks over his shoulder, "your mam's calling you, dog. Go on!"
Daisy clearly doesn't understand, or doesn't care, and barks at Sandor when he shoves her away. 
"Daisy!" I call and jog up to her when she follows Sandor out of the estate. I run up to the gate and watch as she is chased by the Hound. She runs as fast as her three paws will allow, clearly enjoying what she thought to be a game.
"Come here, you stupid bitch!" the Hound screams.
I turn to one of the men near me. I call Arron over and tell him to tell the Hound not to chase after her. He does just that, "milord! She will stop running if you stop chasing!"
I make a face as Lord Clegane curses and does his final attempt at catching the dog.
"Shall I bait Daisy with some meat, milady?" Arron asks.
I am about to respond but then there is a loud shriek from afar. It makes my blood go still.
The Hound immediately stops, straightens up, and looks at the distance.
I turn to Arron in a panic and tell him to get bait for Daisy. He quickly does that and calls for the dog to come back.
A bunch of peasants run and scream towards the estate; they scream milord.
Sandor goes to them.
When he reaches the panicked townspeople, he tells them all to shut the fuck up and explain what's happening. The old one clamours out that her daughter's been taken, says she was herding the cows then she was suddenly screaming, and he tried to reach her but it was too late. He says his son went to the woods to try and save her sister.
The Hound nods. He easily decides to go into the woods. The man's other son to leads the way.
In truth, the boy didn't have to go with him, he could just head to where the animals were fleeing, but he allowed it because he recognized the boy to be one of the ones in training. He has no idea what his name was though.
He was glad to hear the screams when he did, at least the ones that sounded human.
The Hound sees a lad and a lass running up to him, "RUN WHILE IT'S DISTRACTED!"
The boy by his side screams back, "the Hound is here! He's going to kill it!"
Well, Sandor was only meant to save the girl, and now that the girl was about to run past him, he didn't have to do anything, really. For some reason, he felt compelled to press on. Maybe it was the lack of his sense of self-preservation as of late, or no, don't call it that; it was his need for a distraction, his need prove something.
He sees it, the monster and its fresh kill. It must have been one of the girl's cows, or at least what was left of it. Gods, the abomination was a messy eater. He was glad, at least, it seemed to be starved and solely focused on eating.
His boots stomp into a puddle of blood when he charges at the thing and cuts its head off. That's was quick... and simple...
He's shocked when he hears a hellish scream behind him and gets knocked into a tree.
The Hound is dazed. He hears the battle cry of two voices. He watches the brothers do their best to stab at the thing that towers and claws at them. He promptly gets on his feet and charges at the disgusting fuck, managing to chop off its arm before it chops off the boy's head.
Just as he thinks he's about to get the upper hand, another vile beast pops up from the shadows. He fixes his footing and slashes his sword for his life.
One of the boys get injured. The boy's scream attract the monsters towards him, allowing the Hound to stab through one of them when it's attention is averted.
By the time one of the two vile cretins drop to the ground, the two boys are running for their lives with one monster on their tail. The Hound is forced to chase after them and curses the boys for running. He's not as quick as he was before.
He screams and grabs a rock, chucking it at the slimy tar creature. He throws and shouts some more until the monster is turned back and running towards him.
He slashes the stupid fuck with his sword when its close enough. It still picks a fight though.
He's losing his breath.
The next thing he knows, there's another monster screaming from behind him. The Hound prepares for the one behind him, but it doesn't reach him because its busy ripping something off it with a growl. It chucks something to the side. There is a separate whine that hisses with the wind.
The Hound finally kills the first monster that attacked him. It doesn't take much for him to kill the other as its belly was already gushing with viscous blood.
Once he's the only thing alive and standing, catches his breath and curses. He looks upon the fallen black creatures before him and reckons he ought to get out there before more come out.
But then he hears a rustle to his side. He immediately goes on the defensive and readies for another fight.
He follows the sound of heavy breathing.
His face drops when he hears the way the dog whines when he's spotted.
The Hound sheathes his sword and drops to his knees. He looks at Daisy, her one front paw bent, the other one not. Her hind legs were twisted unnaturally, her side was clawed. She was soaking in red, both hers and otherwise. She was panting and quickly losing blood.
Sandor reaches out to her. Her eyes were wide and teary. She leans into Sandor's touch and licks her nose in a panic.
He begins to feel a rage burn in him. He begins to feel loathe. He whisper-yells, "you stupid dog. You should have stayed home."
Daisy's breath quickens. He realizes see that she is trying not to whine. Gods, the pain she must be in.
He is about to tell her she was stupid for doing that, he is about to tell her she didn't need her help, he is about to tell her she was so fearless for no reason, but then Daisy whines. It was the most horrible thing he's ever heard.
Sandor huffs like he had been stabbed. He grips his hilt tightly, "thank you for saving me, Daisy."
Sandor screws his eyes shut and decides on what he has to do.
He draws his sword. Daisy does not flinch when he presses the sword onto her neck. He thinks about the day they'd first met. 
Fearless.
He strokes her face with his hand once. He screws his eyes shut when he feels her shiver. 
So afraid.
"You're a good dog."
His next stroke pulls Daisy's final breath.
The Hound stands. He looks upon his dog.
He screams.
He screams.
He screams, hell-bent on summoning more monsters. He kills three more stupid fuck, particularly enjoying how he butchered killing a young one.
He takes Daisy's body after. She is rigid against his chest when he reaches the village. He barks out an order to the villagers: burn those fucking monsters he killed. They were more than happy to oblige.
He passes the family he had helped. They are about to come up to thank him but they don't when they see what was in his arms.
He is swarmed with dread with what he is faced with when he reaches the estate. It was very clearly as search party for Daisy.
"SANDOR!" I cry out when I spot him from the distance. "DID YOU SEE DAISY WHEN-" I stop myself when I realize he is covered in blood. Suddenly, I feel awful for not asking him if he was injured before anything else.
His form becomes clearer as I jog up to him and call, "ARE YOU AL-"
I stop in my tracks when I see him adjust something in his arms. I knit my brows and continue walking towards him. Was it a head of a monster? Why was it brownish and not black?
The Hound gives me a solemn look as he inches closer. I furrow my brows at his expression.
It takes a second then suddenly, it clicks.
I let out a horrified cry.
The Hound buries Daisy in the garden himself. Everyone in Brown Wood watches. I force a glance at my poor dog, even though I wanted to do nothing but turn away. Her injuries chill me to the bone. Lucy stands beside me, clutching my arm as she weeps, but does not look at Daisy once.
Maester Yannick speaks some words for her, as per my request, before Sandor covers the grave.
Once it was done, maester Yannick comes to me and says he will plant daisies at her grave come morrow. I cannot find solace, I cannot find myself to care.
"Did you have to slit her throat?!" I demand lowly, voice aching and angry. I eye the Hound with hot contempt and cynicism, "was there REALLY no saving her?!"
"My lady," the maester holds me back, "I saw her body. Lord Clegane showed her mercy."
"Did you enjoy executing your mercy?!" I wail, ripping my arms away from Lucy and Yannick. My gaze does not trail to them at all, as I am intent on getting answers from my dog's executioner.
The Hound's face is blank, it enrages me.
I snarl through tears, "gods, I hope you did! I hope you savored finally being free of your bitch!"
Lucy calls after me as when I storm away. She means to run after me but shoots a glare at the Hound before doing so. She is momentarily stunned when he sees how distraught he looks at the moment. 
Sandor marches out of the estate.
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I jolt awake when I hear the front door opening. I wipe my face and quickly stand from the chair in the middle of the living space. The fireplace near me had already burned out.
After the sound of locks disappear in the darkness, I take the unlit candle on the table beside me and walk up to the burning candelabra to light it.
I hear heavy footsteps draw closer.
Boots skid, "fuck."
I look up after lighting my candle. The Hound looks back at me.
"What are you doing?"
I purse my lips and turn to my feet. I clutch my candle, finding it hard to speak. 
"Lucy kick you out of her bed?" he mutters then begins to walk off.
I look up and follow after him. I finally muster out, "you arrive later and later."
He scoffs.
"It's been five days. I fear you'll not return by the tenth."
I pull my head back and stop in my tracks just as the Hound turns and chuckles, "don't worry, little girl. I like the wages of a Lord. Your hound isn't running."
"I know you're not running!" I snap, "I wonder why you think so poorly of yourself!"
"I think poorly of myself?" he hisses and points to his chest.
"Yes!" I bark and push myself up on my tiptoes to prove a point, "and since you are so keen to put words in my mouth, I hope you shove all the fucking pie the unwitting peasants gave you down your blasted throat!"
The Hound is shocked by my profanity. His face slips into confusion.
I heave and pull back, intent on walking away. And I do. I should have never waited for him.
"What fucking pie?"
I snap and turn back at him, "the one you could have eaten fresh had you spared a moment this morning before leaving for a monster hunt!"
Sandor is wholeheartedly confused.
I am aggravated by his expression. I wave my hands, unintentionally putting out the flame of my candle, "they love you, Hound! They're thankful and grateful!"
Though it was darker now, I see his face pinch in to a sort of disgusted disbelief. The sight infuriates me, it squeezes my heart, it pricks me frustration. I wipe my face and repeat the words that were spoken to me, "tell Lord Clegane that without him my children would be dead. Tell Lord Clegane that he has saved me family from hunger. Tell Lord Clegane that me, and my sons, and my sheep are happy to-"
"I didn't do it for them," Sandor cuts me off with a hand raise.
I purse my lips and slowly pull my head back at his words.
He lowers his hand and eyes me for a moment. I see how his gaze drinks my figure. He clenches his jaw and looks away, "you should be asleep."
My jaw slacks.
I wait for him to look at me. I wait for him to ask if I was going to sleep with Lucy again. I wait for him to apologize for keeping me up worrying. I wait for him to bring up Daisy. I wait him to do something, but he doesn't.
My eyes water, "my lo-"
"Good night," he dismisses and turns around to walk away.
"Aren't you-" my voice cracks, "-going to ask me to go to bed with you?"
He stops in his tracks. He does not look back, "do you want me to?"
I furrow my brows deeply. I feel like I was drowning. I let out a shaky breath and wrap my arms around myself. I shake my head and turn away. I chuckle dryly, "forgive me for even asking."
Sandor turns back, jaw hanging, hands clenched. He does nothing but watch.
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"Do you know what's going to happen now, little girl?"
"Yes."
"What's going to happen?"
"You're going to fuck me."
Sandor laughs lowly, placing his hands on my cheeks. He swipes his thumb on my lips, "filthy mouth."
He kisses me deeply.
"Tell me honest," he mutters through kisses, "have you ever done this before?" he speaks as his hands paw at my sides, "I would not judge you if you did."
I squeak when he touches me between my thighs.
He draws out a deep breath, "no, of course you haven't; you're a good girl."
I gasp at the sound of thunder. I jolt up from my bed-- I turn to my side, seeing a sleeping Lucy's form-- or I mean, Lucy's bed. I look for Daisy in the room as I slowly push the blankets off me. I still when I realize she wasn't here.
I huff and wipe my face. I try to push away the thoughts of Daisy out of my head. I try not to think of her so much because I end up melancholy and furious. I, instead, find myself drifting to the dream I just had-- been having.
The mind can be so treacherous. I nibble my lower lip and rub my belly.
I tried, you know. I went to the Hound the morning after we fought about his coming home late. I tried to make peace with him. I tried to persuade him. I tried to kiss him.
I gasp again when another crack of thunder echoes through the room.
He wasn't having it though. He pushed me away and told me it was wrong, that we shouldn't be doing that. He left the estate shortly after. He hasn't been home since.
I get out of bed and light a candle for myself. I walk to my bedroom and light any of the candles that went off on my way. I wrap my arms around myself and rub my skin. I open the door to room as softly as possible, though it didn't really matter in the end because it was pouring outside and the noise wouldn't be loud.
With a barely audible creak, the door opens.
And it was also empty.
I sigh at the made bed. I walk towards it and smoothen out the already smooth sheets. I decide to get dressed for the day.
I head to the office, which as empty as the bedroom. I light the candles there.
I sit down on the desk and go through the papers, the letters of requests, the list of complaints, the finances, the works. I rub my eyes, willing my sleep away. I look out my window, seeing barely any hint of sun through the dark clouds.
I don't know how exactly how much time passed between then and when Arron burst in, but it must have been a while, considering how nice it felt to stand after hearing him shout, "HE'S HOME, MILADY!"
I immediately blow out the candles as Arron tells me the Hound was in the living area. I thank him for telling me, gather my skirts, and jog out of the room.
I cannot hear the click of my heels over the sound of the persisting rain-- the persisting storm.
I stop in my tracks when I see a trail of water in the corridor that led to my bedroom.
A crack of lightning bolts through the sky when I walk in and ask "where have you been?!"
The Hound is dripping in rain water. He has his back turned to me. He is undoing his armor.
I clench my fists and storm up to him. I circle in front of him the same time he walks towards the closet. He stops there, still undoing his armor, back turned to me again.
I scowl, "Hound! I'm speaking to you!"
He looks over his shoulder, the one he was trying to undo, "what? I can't hear you over the rain."
I burn hot with anger and march up to him, "I asked where you've been!"
The Hound looks down at me. He releases the grip on his shoulder, "does it matter where I've been?"
"Yes!" I snap, "you haven't come home in 7 days."
He scoffs, "thrilling to know you've been counting," he points to the window, "well, as you can see, it's fucking storming."
"It wasn't storming the day you left," I hiss.
"Well, it was when I decided to come to my beautiful wife," he leans down and jeers.
I knit my brows at him and pull back when I smell the alcohol in his breath.
He takes my chin between his fingers, "come on give us a smile."
I pull away from him, heart racing, chin burning, even though his touch got my skin damp with rain water.
The Hound straightens up and undoes his armor again.
I step away from him, "Job said he saw you in the next town over."
"Who the fuck is Job?" he asks, not bothering to look at me.
"Polly's father."
"The stable boy?" he turns to me.
"Yes," I hiss and I feel anger build up in me.
He says nothing.
I nearly choke when I say the next words, "he said he saw you coming out of brothel."
The Hound stills. He drops his hands to the side.
Both of us just stand there for a moment. The rain seems to intensify, and so does the tension between us.
"Tell me the truth," I mutter, "do you-"
"It was the town with the fucking unavailable inn," he shifts in his spot to turn to me, "I went to the brothel instead and paid for lodging there."
I purse my lips at his words. That was not what I was going to ask him. I battle with myself, trying to find the words I want to say. I revise my words over and over again in my head. There were so many things I wanted to say, yet so little ways to make it easy to speak out.
I shake my head, "am I very hard to want?"
Sandor feels rain water drip from his fingers.
I don't know how I feel about the bewildered and perplexed expression that spreads across his face. I do know one thing at least, I feel too exhausted to cry.
I sigh and shrug, "I am no fool, Hound. I learned through the gossip of my maids and my aunts growing up that men are simply like... this. It is their nature to stray. Of course, I hoped different for myself, but we cannot have it all, can we?"
"But I didn't do anything," he snaps. He deflates, "I swear by the gods, old and new."
I press my lips into a tight smile. I slowly walk up to him. He watches me intently. I hear his breath hitch when I begin to undo his armor for him. I half expect him to make me stop. He doesn't.
Sandor steps forward. There's barely any space between us anymore. His heart is racing. His hands itch to touch. He releases a breath when his hand comes to my side.
My stomach swirls at the feel of his palm but I do nothing. Neither do I look at him when I mutter, "maybe you should."
Sandor watches me remove his armor. He furrow his brows and whispers, "what?"
I drop the steel plate to the ground with a clank. It is loud even with the sound of pouring rain.
He doesn't like it when he receives no reply. He takes my wrist. I stop my task. His hand is warm albeit the dampness, and so very gentle. 
I finally look up at him.
He leans closer and speaks louder. He shakes his head and furrows his brows, "what did you say, pretty squirrel?"
I raise my brows, "maybe you should."
"Should what?"
"Do something in the brothels."
His face falls. We stare at each other for a moment. He is clearly in disbelief.
I pull my hand out of his grip. He almost doesn't let me.
"It's not a trick, I swear it."
"What are you saying?" he shakes his head faster and finds himself playing on the offensive, "you want me to be with someone else?!"
"I want a baby," I mutter.
Sandor's face falls again, but then it twists. It is unbearable to look at.
"Find a woman you desire," I turn away from him, "and give her your seed. You may keep her here if you like, and I will let her take care of the babe, but the babe will be mine."
His lips part.
"You're right. I don't want the memory of my family to be tainted by monstrosity-"
He shakes his head once more.
"-and I am the last of my line. My line lives on with House Clegane. People remember names, not blood."
He takes my hand, "I desire you."
I cannot help it. I begin to cry because of that. I break into both tears and laughter, "you needn't shield my heart, Sandor."
Sandor's stomach drops, both at the fact his own words have been used against him and with how his name was spoken.
I place a hand on his cheek.
His knees go weak.
"We've both hurt enough," I smile, "I know you think otherwise, but I'm not a little girl. I know sometimes winning means admitting defeat when the loss is great."
He grabs both my wrists when I try to pull away. I gasp when he does so. He holds me for a second then releases my wrists to capture my cheeks instead. He wipes my tears with his thumbs. He swipes my lips, "I love you."
I screw my eyes shut and cling onto his forearm. I let out another laugh, "I don't think you hurt people that you love, my lord."
The Hound is pierced through his armor.
He doesn't put up a fight when I pull his hands off me.
I continue to undo his armor. He doesn't move an inch.
"Will you sleep with me tonight?" he whispers. The sound of the rain is too loud that only him and the gods heard it.
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Sandor had been out of it ever since his pretty squirrel ate his insides. He was thick faced, literally and figuratively; he's learned to take pride in it, to find solace in the fact all the years of flesh ripping torture-- figuratively and literally, had made him indifferent to what people think, made him apathetic, numb.
And yet her smile that day was worse than a sword through the spleen. Her disbelief in his words-- because she was right, you don't hurt people you love-- was heart wrenching, blood draining.
What do you say to that? How do you fix that?
You don't.
He knows you don't. You can't fix something like that.
And since this truth has dawned on him, since this truth has slit his throat, he's been a headless, mindless fucker. He was a dead man walking, and one more unwitting monster attack away from making it real.
"MILORD!" Carter cries, raising his sword to hack at the monster who managed to swipe his lately-been-aloof Lord Clegane.
The boy is fired up; his blood is pumping enough to enable him to cut the black demon's arm off and sequentially pierce it through its heart. Carter does it with a scream and regrets it a moment later; after all, they were in the middle of the woods.
They have to get out of here.
Sandor makes a pained noise. He feels heat surge down his arm and cold shiver up his spine.
"YOU'RE BLEEDING!" Carter gasps, mortified that his lord's armor was scraped off his back. The boy realizes suddenly that his Lord, the fearsome Hound, was not invincible. This newfound truth rips into his ribs the way, he thinks, the monsters would.
The boy immediately takes the Hound in his arms, though it wasn't like he could actually carry him if he wanted. Sandor steadies himself on the boy; Carter struggles even with that task. 
Still, the smaller manages to support his Lord out of the woods.
The next thing Sandor knows, he's screaming and thrashing. He vaguely hears the sound of footsteps skidding away from him.
"What's happening, Maester Yannick?!"
A deep sigh, "he probably feels the pain now."
Sandor realizes he's sat down on a stool, leaned against a table, or at least he was before he started flailing his arms around. He lets out a guttural cry as he pushes himself up. He realizes he's in the ward, being attended by the maester, and his wife was present and very troubled.
"My lord!" Yannick exclaims, raising his hands in both surrender and an attempt to soothe, "it's alright. I have stitched your wounds closed. Do not tear them open "
Sandor huffs through his nostrils. He turns to his side when he hears the soft way his name was spoken. Lady Clegane walks closer, hand wanting to reach out to him. He almost reaches back but then she digs her nails into her palms.
He sinks into the stool and watches her look at him. Her eyes are glassy. Why are they always glassy?
"My lord," Yannick walks towards him, "I'm going to wrap your wounds now."
Sandor huffs in agreement, or more accurately, acknowledgement. His eyes are still fixed on her though. He watches her hover around him, evidently unsure about approaching him.
He wants to reach out to her. He wants to touch her, to soothe her so, so badly.
He's shocked when she decides to take his hand and whispers, "shall I get you milk of the poppy?" 
Sandor looks up at her. Her voice was shaky and he hates how worried it sounded, how desperate. He hates how her eyes were constantly red. He knits his brows, "no."
She hisses, "are you certain? Your gashes are deep. No one in the world would fault you for wanting something to relieve the pain."
"I want to feel it," he mutters, "I want to feel."
She looks between the two of them in a panic, "but you've lost so much blood--"
"Perhaps," Yannick interrupts firmly. He starts binding his wounds, "he wants to feel precisely because he's light headed after losing blood."
Sandor straightens up slowly as he is instructed to. His attention is solely focused on the sensation on his hand though, on how the jittery squirrel was rubbing her soft fingers on his calloused skin.
She persists with this action until his chest and back is bound, she persists until Maester Yannick leaves the room, she persists until, next moment, she drops on her knees beside him. The Hound reacts in an instant.
He gets on the floor beside her, uncaring how it hurt his back, and clutches her face. He calls her name in horror.
"Are you punishing me?" she whispers as water in her eyes threaten to spill.
Sandor knits his brows deeply. He can't speak. He's too afraid to. Everything he's said up until that point has done nothing but rip them both apart. He was a hound after all.
"Are you trying to kill yourself to get back at me?" she mutters, distressed, pained, and defeated.
His face contorts even more. He hesitates but then shakes his head, "no."
"The boy said you've been acting differently as of late!" she grabs his wrists, "ever since I told you what I wanted from you."
His lips twitch. He looks away.
She tightens her grip, "please."
He is suddenly so acutely aware of his injuries. The pain throbs all the way through his heart.
"Please," she begs softly, "just tell me what you want from me-"
"Everything."
The way he responded was quick, as if it was practiced, as if it was reflex.
He avoids her gaze. He takes a deep breath. He waits for a response he somehow knows will never come.
When he turns to her, he notices how her face dropped. Gods, Sandor. Get it together.
"I want-" he starts but cannot continue because of how guilty he feels over the sight of her wobbling lip.
Sandor's hands loosen. They melt from her cheeks, down her shoulders. He grips the area, as if she was water about to slip through his fingers. He releases a breath, and with it, it seems, his thoughts escape. He mutters somethings that mean nothing. She doesn't understand anything.
She whimpers, "I have nothing left to give; you already have it all."
The Hound freezes when his cheek is touched, when his scar is touched. It's like it's being burned all over again.
"Is there something I can give you now?" she huffs uneasily.
He sighs. He feels the wounds throbbing; he feels his head pounding, "no."
"Then will you let me go now?" 
No. No, no, no, no-
"Or, please, at least loosen your grip."
Immediately, Sandor releases her shoulders. She sequentially lets out a breath and rubs the area. There is an imprint on the area of her exposed skin.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-
"Do you want me to stay?"
Yes. "Do you want to stay?"
"I had planned to finish some errands before going to bed."
Sandor averts his gaze then slowly crawls back to his stool, "then leave."
It almost hurts as much as his cuts how quickly she stands. She looks down at him, "I will leave you to your solidarity."
Please don't go.
"I will tell Maester Yannick to come back to attend to you, Hound."
Hound. It sounds like shattering glass.
Sandor listens to the click of her heels as she leaves him.
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scoonsalicious · 23 days
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Your Choice
Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Teacher!Reader
Summary: You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice.
Warnings: Language, because I have a foul mouth, explicit smut (unprotected PIV, oral (m receiving), fingering), mentions of drug manufacturing/possession/use, little bit 'o' bondage, implied dubcon, implied infidelity, implied abuse of police authority (honestly, read the whole thing through before coming at me for warnings, okay? I promise it'll make sense), bad cop jokes/puns/innuendos. Please let me know if I missed anything.
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: Inspired by actual events! And by that, I just mean the part where someone called the cops and told them I was cooking crack in my kitchen. Literally everything else is a figment of my imagination, alas! Special thanks to bestie @jmeelee for suggesting I take that awkward encounter and turn it into something to benefit all of mankind, and for giving me a title. The Cheesecake Factory is going to start forbidding us entry with the way we talk in there.
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You put the tea kettle on to boil before sitting down at the kitchen table to start grading your students’ papers. You’d been hoping to get through as many as possible before your husband came home from work, but with the number of corrections you were having to make on these assignments, you’d be lucky if you got a quarter of them done before then. It was disheartening. Distance learning during Covid really hadn’t done the public education system any favors and you felt like you’d been playing catch-up for years now.
When the kettle eventually boiled, you pulled yourself away from your grading to make yourself a cup of tea. You had just settled back down with your steaming mug when you heard an incessant pounding at the front door, startling you. You briefly considered not answering— you weren’t expecting anyone, and besides, who showed up unannounced at someone’s door anymore?
Serial killers, that’s who.
But the knocking continued, relentless and heavy. After a few seconds, you heard a gruff voice call “Police. Open up!”
“What the hell?” you asked yourself, putting down the tea mug and making your way through the living room to the front door.
Peering behind the curtain on the front door window, you could make out the figure of a uniformed officer standing on your front porch. He was illuminated from behind by the streetlight, leaving only his outline visible to you. 
Narrowing your eyes in confusion and concern, you turned on the porch light, unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Can I help you, officer?” you asked cautiously. 
The man tipped the brim of his hat up, and you were met with a bright pair of blue eyes that glimmered with more than a hint of mischief. 
“It’s actually Sergeant, ma’am,” the man said to you as he tipped his hat and offered you a wicked grin. You breathed a sigh of relief-- you knew him. Of course you did. Your small town didn’t have much in the way of local law enforcement, and James Barnes, or ‘Bucky,’ as most folks called him, was a specimen to be revered. Ridiculously handsome, tall and broad, he was built entirely of muscle as he towered over you from the doorway. He was a favorite among the local female population, often being specifically requested to provide police presence at PTO functions and Ladies’ Auxiliary events. Despite the gold ring he wore on his left hand, the women of the town were drawn to him like flies to a corpse, much to the frustration of his poor wife.
“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” you amended, with a touch of sarcasm in your voice as you offered him a smirk back, though you were still confused by his presence. 
“Well, ma’am, seems like we got a call reporting suspicious activity at this address,” he drawled, leaning now on your door jam, fingers hooking in his belt loops.
“Here?” you asked, surprise coloring your tone. “Are you being serious with me right now, Bucky?”
“That’s Sergeant Barnes to you, ma’am,” he responded nonchalantly. Oh, so he was playing it like that, then? Good to know. “Got a tip that someone’s been cooking meth in your kitchen. ‘m here to check it out.”
You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Meth?! That’s a new one!” You’d had some of your students call in pranks on you in the past, but this was an extreme.
“Ma’am, I’m afraid meth is no laughing matter,” the sergeant said in all seriousness. The look in his eyes immediately shut down any trace of humor you felt as you stared back at him. “The manufacture of illegal drugs is a very serious crime. I’d like to come inside and take a look, if you don’t mind.”
You pursed your lips. You remembered something your husband had discussed with you, and decided you weren’t going to make this easy for him. “Do you have a warrant?” you asked defiantly.
Sergeant Barnes sighed heavily and rubbed his dark stubble with the palm of his hand. “Ma’am, I’ve had a long shift. Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. Now, either you can let me inside, or you can come down and answer questions at the station. It’s up to you.”
It wasn’t an option, not really. “Come on in, then,” you told him, moving aside so he could enter. He walked through the door, his meaty arm grazing against the side of your breast as he did so, and you involuntarily shuddered at the sensation. You knew he noticed when you caught him smirking at you again.
“Kitchen’s this way,” you murmured, somewhat breathlessly, as you led him back through the house to the room in question. He followed silently behind you, his footfalls heavy and sure.
Once in the kitchen, Sergeant Barnes began looking around. It was obvious you weren’t in the middle of a meth lab. You were a high school English teacher, for god’s sake! You weren’t quite sure what game the sergeant was playing at, but you had no doubt he’d make his intentions known in good time.
After glancing around, he eventually said “Well, I can see there’s no meth setup here. Guess it was a false alarm.” You shot him a glare as if to say no shit, but he walked to the cabinet holding your glassware and opened it. “Well, well, well… what do we have here?” He reached in and pulled out a bong and a container of marijuana. “Now, I know next state over might have given the go ahead for this stuff, but in this state, recreational use of the Devil’s Lettuce is still illegal, darlin’. Mighty bad look for a school teacher to have it on hand, don’t ya think?”
You cocked your hip and crossed your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “That’s my husband’s,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. “And I’m pretty sure you just conducted an illegal search and seizure there, sarge.”
He put the bong down on the counter with a heavy clink and turned to face you, his face impassive and voice stern. “Now, seems to me someone’s got a problem with authority, darlin’. I don’t appreciate you talkin’ back to an officer of the law like that. Might need to teach you some manners.”
You swallowed thickly, finally having an idea of where the sergeant was going with his little drop-in and felt a frisson run through your body that left you trembling. Honestly, you were surprised you hadn’t seen it coming. There’d been talk, after all.
“Now,” he continued as he slowly made his way across the kitchen toward you, “as I see it, we got ourselves two options here. One: you can come down with me to the station and we can book your pretty little ass on possession charges, which is gonna take hours and require a hell of a lotta paperwork.” He was standing directly in front of you now, leaving just inches between your bodies. You sucked in a breath, the nearness of him making you dizzy. “Or two, I can get you off with a warning. Still might take hours, but at least we can both have ourselves a good time. Your choice, darlin.”
You took a step back, pressing yourself against the edge of the counter in an attempt to put some space between you. “I think you mean ‘let’ me off with a warning, Sergeant Barnes,” you said, your words coming out in an exhale.
You gasped as his hand came down to cup you between your legs and gently squeeze your mound through the fabric off your jeans. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I meant what I said, darlin’. But you gotta prove you’re gonna be a good, respectful girl, first, so why don’t you get down on your knees and show me how you obey the law?”
Your eyes widened at his command, unsure how to proceed. Unfortunately, Sergeant Barnes was impatient– he took both his hands and put them on your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you down until you were kneeling in front of him, the large bulge in his trousers staring you straight in the face. 
“Best get to work, darlin,” he growled, brushing your hair away from your face. “It’s not gonna suck itself.”
You couldn’t believe this was actually happening as you slowly brought your shaking hands up to his waist. With trembling fingers, you unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. His massive erection was straining the fabric of his gray boxer-briefs, leaving a dark wet stain where the tip rested against the cloth, evidence of his arousal already making itself known.
Moving as though afraid of spooking a scared animal, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down to just above his knees and setting his cock free to bounce up against his lower stomach. 
God, but he was big. If the women in town had any idea that he was packing so much more than just his gun, they’d never give him a moment of peace. You traced a finger along the vein at the base of his member, trailing it up his length to the weeping red tip. Coating yourself in his pre-cum, you used his essence as lubrication as you began working him with your hand. 
“Not that this doesn’t feel good, but what did I say about sucking it, darlin’?” Sergeant Barnes asked through a grunt as you pumped him. 
“I’ll get to it,” you told him, a hint of irritation in your voice. He had a lot of nerve making demands of you at a time like this. 
You felt his hand come and roughly grab you by the chin, jerking your head up to make you look him in the eye. “You got the right to remain silent, Sweetheart. I’m gonna be a gentleman and suggest you use it. Find another purpose for that pretty mouth of yours.” He took his hand away with a wink.
You licked your lips as your eyes took him in. Leaning your head down into him, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the underside of his cock.
“Good girl,” he moaned as your tongue circled his tip. “Keep it up. Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good with that sassy mouth of yours.” You took him into your mouth a little bit at a time, teasing him as one hand worked his base and the other cupped his balls.
You weren't a woman who liked to be told what to do, but the dominance in his voice made you shudder, an involuntary thrill skittering down your spine. He felt intoxicating, dangerous and you had the feeling you were in way over your head.
“Mmm,” he grunted as you swirled your tongue around the swell of his head before deciding to take him in deeper. You relaxed your throat and backed off only when you felt his length bump against it.
"Jesus, darlin', where'd you learn that?" he asked breathlessly. His hands moved to cup your face as you moved rhythmically along his length, setting your own pace. He was blissfully lost in the sensation.
But then, Sergeant Barnes wasn’t one to give up control so easily, either. “Stop teasing,” he huffed out before threading his fingers through your hair and tugging lightly, a clear sign that he wanted more.
You didn’t hesitate to oblige, taking him deep in your mouth until you heard him groan in pleasure above you. His grip on your hair tightened as he took over guiding your movement, his hips bucking up to meet your mouth until he was fucking your face with abandon. The taste of him was overpowering, salty and bitter, making your cheeks flush with heat as you struggled to accommodate his size, tears running down your cheeks and drool pooling from the corners of your mouth.
"I knew you had it in you," he grunted, his voice barely a whisper now as he lost himself in the waves of pleasure you were giving him. You looked up to see his eyes closed tight, his lips parted when ragged breaths escaped his chest that was heaving like a wild beast caught in a trap.
He was close, you could tell from the way his body squirmed and the throbbing of his hardness against your tongue. There was an urgency in his ragged breathing and the racing pulse beneath his skin that echoed through your core. But he wasn’t going to finish yet. Not if Sergeant Barnes had anything to say about it.
A sudden force yanked you back by the hair, tearing your mouth away from him. You let out a surprised yelp, wiping away the excess saliva that clung to your lips.
“Upstairs,” he ordered gruffly, his eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. He tucked himself free of your grasp and rearranged his uniform as he stepped back, giving you space to rise from your knees.
You smiled and nodded, your head hazy with desire as you passed him and led the way to the narrow back staircase tucked into the corner of the kitchen. He followed closely behind, his heavy boots echoing off the wooden floors in a steady rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. You felt his gaze on your swaying hips with each step you climbed, a soft growl echoing from behind you that sent shivers down your spine.
You led him to your bedroom, a quaint space painted in soft hues with sheer white curtains rustling gently from the light breeze of the warm spring night. The unmade bed serving as a reminder of love you and your husband had made just that morning staring you right in the face.
“‘m afraid I’m gonna have to search you now, Sweetheart. Strip,” he ordered, his voice gruff with desire as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t bother with niceties or romance – this wasn’t about that. This was about raw, primal need.
Your trembling hands reached for the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, revealing the delicate lace bralette underneath. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, encouraging you as you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, stepping out of them daintily.
“Turn around,” he said next, and you complied without question. You heard him suck in a breath behind you as you shimmied out of your underwear, revealing the round shape of your backside to him under the dim light.
“Jesus,” he whispered, the raw desire in his voice making your heart flutter. “This is better than I ever imagined.” He walked up to you, the rough fabric of his uniform trousers brushing against your exposed skin making you whimper. His fingers traced your spine, gliding all the way down to the small of your back, causing goosebumps to break out all over your body. “Now, you remember your traffic laws, don’t ya, darlin’? You remember how stoplights work?” 
You nodded, knowing instinctively he was referring to safe words– Green for go, Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop. 
“Good girl,” he praised. “Put your hands behind your back.”
You complied and felt the cold metal of his cuffs clink around your wrists, locking them into place. You were now fully at his mercy.
He cupped your buttocks in both hands, kneading them gently while his lips found the nape of your neck. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine as he left a trail of kisses there. “Color?” he asked inbetween presses of his lips.
“Green, Sergeant,” you hummed. You could feel him growing harder against you, the enormous length of him pressing against your ass making you squeal and squirm in anticipation. His groan echoed in your ears as he held onto you tighter.
“Gonna need ya to spread for me, Sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and husky. Your heart pounded in your chest as you did what he asked, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed. His hands found their way to your thighs, pushing them apart gently until you were open and exposed to him.
He let out a low whistle behind you, his fingers tracing lightly over your intimate folds. "You're soaking wet," he murmured, sounding almost awestruck. You flushed at his words, feeling a fresh wave of desire pulse through your body at his touch.
His fingers suddenly abandoned you, only to return dripping with warm slickness. He wasted no time in teasing your entrance, slipping his finger inside you and drawing out a moan that echoed through the room.
“You like that don’t ya?” he asked, his voice alluringly low as he curled his finger inside of you. You whimpered at the sensation, trying to push back against him for more.
“Patience, Sweetheart," he whispered against your earlobe before nibbling on it lightly. He slid another finger inside you, curling and stretching in a way that had you gasping for breath. "You're so tight," he groaned out, appreciating the way your walls clenched around his digits.
“Please…” you whimpered out, the anticipation making your body shake as you pleaded for more. “Please, Sergeant. I need more.” Your legs were wobbly, and with your arms trapped behind your back, you were finding it hard to keep your balance, but you wanted more of him.
He chuckled darkly at your plea, rubbing slow circles on your clit with his thumb while his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. Each touch was expertly measured, bringing you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back, keeping you precariously balanced between pleasure and desperation.
“I’m doing this my way,” he grunted, adding a third finger and increasing his pace. You cried out, your vision blurred as the coil inside you tightened threateningly. You were so close but he wouldn���t let you fall, each moment bringing a new wave of frustration and desire.
Finally unable to take the teasing any longer, he withdrew his fingers leaving you gasping at the sudden loss.
"Get on the bed," Sergeant Barnes ordered, standing tall in front of you; his arousal painfully obvious. “Face down.” You moved to accommodate him, getting on your knees and laying your face down on the mattress, hands still pinned behind your back.
The sound of his utility belt hitting the floor filled the room, followed by the rustle of fabric as he stripped himself free of his uniform.
You squirmed on the bed, desperate for his touch but unable to see anything with your back to him. The anticipation was unbearable, each passing second feeling like an eternity as you waited for him to resume his ministrations.
He moved behind you again, his bare, warm skin against yours making you whimper in anticipation. "Breathe," he commanded simply, and you did, inhaling a shaky breath before exhaling slowly.
And then without warning he was inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust that had you screaming out, the stinging stretch quickly morphing from painful to something far sweeter. He grunted at the intrusion, pulling back slightly only to thrust back in again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless.
His hands gripped your hips tightly, stopping you from moving too much as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind.
Each thrust had you crying out in wanton pleasure, your body trembling beneath him. "Sergeant Barnes," you whimpered his name like a sacred prayer, the cool metal of the handcuffs biting into your wrists as you tried to brace yourself against his forceful movements. 
He didn't slow down, didn't pause, just kept moving inside you with a single-minded focus that had you spiraling. His pace was unrelenting, his stamina seemingly endless. His fingers clutched at your hips in a bruising grip, holding you steady as he continued his merciless assault on your senses.
You felt him shift slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting a spot inside of you that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids. “Please…” your plea was cut off by a gasp as he hit that same spot again, driving you closer to the edge.
But he didn’t stop there; instead he leaned over you, his broad chest pressing against your back as one hand slid underneath your bodies, finding your clit with unerring precision. He started rubbing it in tight circles, adding a whole new layer to your pleasure.
Every new thrust of his hips sent him deeper within you, each stroke of his fingers on your clit became more intense. You were a writhing mess beneath him, completely lost in the ecstasy he was giving you.
"Bucky," you cried out, forgetting to use his title this time, your voice hoarse from screaming, your body trembling on the brink of release. This wasn’t a game anymore.
"I know," he growled in your ear, his voice low and guttural. "I can feel how close you are, doll. Just let go."
And you did. The moment his lips closed around the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you as his own, the coil inside you snapped. Pleasure washed over you in waves, each one stronger than the last, pulling cries from deep within you as your orgasm tore through you.
He didn't stop his movements, continuing to thrust into you as you came around him, your cries only fueling his own desire. His fingers tightened on your hips while the other hand continued to work you through your climax, prolonging the exquisite sensation.
His pace became erratic, the rhythm breaking down as he chased his own release. With a final grunt and a whispered curse, he drove deep inside of you, his body tense as he came, filling you with his spend. His guttural moan carried through the room as he rode out his orgasm, each thrust sending little aftershocks through your sensitive body.
His grip on your hips relaxed slowly, his breathing heavy and ragged against the skin of your back. He stayed still for a moment, buried deep inside you, allowing you both to come down from your highs.
Finally, he carefully withdrew from you, leaving you feeling empty. He rolled off of you with a sigh, getting up to retrieve the handcuff key from his trouser pocket and releasing you from your bondage.
“Are you okay?” His voice was soft in the silence, as he worked to rub the feeling back into your tender wrists.
You looked up at him through your lashes and nodded, amazed and impressed at his sudden shift from commanding sergeant to tender, caring lover.
“So,” Sergeant Barnes began once he had determined there was no real damage to your wrists, “what time is your husband getting home?” You both burst into laughter as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.
“Mmm, probably sooner than we expect,” you teased, leaning up to give him the deep kiss you’d been denied throughout the length of your little game. “That was a lot of fun.”
He chuckled and stood up, walking over to the dresser. “Yeah, it was; we should have done it sooner.” He opened the drawers, pulling out a fresh change of clothes for himself before moving to the closet to grab your robe. “Thank you for that; I really did have a long shift, and that certainly took the edge off. You were amazing, doll.” “My pleasure, obviously.” You’d been excited and intrigued when Bucky first brought up acting out his fantasy with you, but no amount of discussion could have prepared you for how much you had loved actually doing it. You raised your hands over your head, arching your back in a stretch, laughing as you watched his eyes follow the heave of your breasts as they moved upward, licking his lips. “But meth, Bucky? Really? That rumor gets out, you’re gonna get me fired.”
Bucky hummed as he grabbed some clean towels from the linen closet and brought them into the ensuite bathroom. You heard him start the shower. “You answered the door looking all sexy and I panicked,” he confessed, popping his head back into the bedroom, a sheepish grin across his face that made him look ever so boyish. You adored it. “Next time, I’ll say we got a call about you being a prostitute.”
You cackled at that, making him grin even wider. “Better not,” you warned as you got off the bed and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “otherwise I might make you pay for it, and I don’t think you can afford me on a sergeant’s salary.”
Bucky grabbed at his heart in mock pain. “Ouch. Well, how about we clean ourselves up and use the money I saved by not paying you to go have a nice fancy dinner, instead? How does that sound? We can talk about doing your fantasy next.”
You took his hand and led him back into the bathroom and the inviting warmth of the shower. “That sounds perfect,” you told him as you moved to stand under the showerhead. You planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Sergeant Barnes.”
Bucky placed his hands on your waist and gave you a gentle squeeze before kissing your forehead. “I love you, too, Mrs. Barnes.”
You began to lather each other up, trying your best, yet failing miserably, to not get too frisky with one another. “Hey, Buck?” you asked after a moment, a question coming to mind that you’d been meaning to ask him.
“Yeah, doll?” He was gently scrubbing shampoo into your scalp, and it felt like heaven.
“How come you gave yourself a Southern accent?”
Bucky laughed and pulled you close, your back to his front, as he planted a kiss just behind your ear, right over the mark he had sucked into your skin. “I told you, doll. You looked so fucking sexy when you opened that door, I just panicked!”
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themotherofhorses · 10 months
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bewitched
pairing: alys rivers x fem!targaryen!reader, minor aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader
summary: she is many things— this witch, and observant is one of them. alys rivers can see the way your older brother stares at you, that mix of heavy lust and longing darkening the violet in his eye.
it is quite cute, she thinks. such a shame she's decided to claim you for herself.
warnings: explicit language. aemond acting like book!aemond in the beginning (violence and death). seduction. mention of canon-typical targcest between siblings. oral (f receiving) and fingering. tiddy sucking. slight breeding kink. alys straight up stealing aemond's bitch.
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Without any further thought, you had followed your older brother on his sixteen days’ march to Harrenhal, riding alongside him at the head of his army, some four thousand strong. Your mother had protested it a great deal, demanding you stay back and remain with her and your broken older sister.
But you were Aemond’s in the way Helaena’s was Aegon’s, and where he went, you followed.
And it was you, his sweet little sister, who did her best to calm him down when, twenty days later, word of the fall of King’s Landing finally reached him. At dinner, Aemond felt thrice the fool, you knew, and cried out curses at his uncle and the “river scrum” and Rhaenyra, over and over again. His fury was fearsome but never directed at you. He loved you too much. That night, you held him close, cradling his head against your breasts as the two of you slept.
The following morning, he began his onslaught.
Under the dawning sun, Aemond soon killed Ser Simon Strong in a duel, cutting the old man to pieces before feeding the corpse to Vhagar. Ser Simon was the great uncle to Larys Clubfoot, you then remember, grimacing at the blood puddling across the castle’s courtyard. Larys Strong. Harwin Strong. Lyonel Strong. Bits of his limbs were scattered about too, a horrible mess of muscle and skin and greyed hair. The sight made you sick to your tummy.
Bring me his grandsons! Aemond demanded soon after, freckles of dried blood staining his cheekbones and brow. And every man or boy with Strong blood in his veins. The Stranger does not discriminate in his wielding, and neither will I!
You watched in tears as one by one, your brother’s men dragged out both man and boy, some no older than your niece and nephew. Their screams broke out across the courtyard as their bodies stacked in a pile almost three feet high. Clutching Aemond’s sleeve, you begged and pleaded mercy for the children, and for the womenfolk huddled within the wards.
“See reason!” you cried. “They are innocent in all this, the babes especially! Do not let your anger deceive you, my dear brother!” But Aemond was unmoved by your words, to your utter dismay.
No trueborn Strong was spared nor any bastard, both adult and child. All except Alys Rivers.
You pled mercy for her as well, and Aemond surprised you by granting it. He gestured for two soldiers to shove her back inside Harrenhal, safe and alive, before asking if you were finally happy. Your lips curled at the bite in his tone, and the madden glare in his eye.
“This is unlike you,” you told him. “I do not like it.”
Aemond rolled his eye. “And I do not give a shit, sweet sister. If you wish to cast blame onto someone, let it be our eldest whore sister and her damn husband. Ser Simon was a traitor to the crown, and died a fitting traitor’s death.”
“But this was unnecessary, Aemond! You’re many things, yes, but cruel is not one of them.”
“Do you honestly believe that?”
“I know it!” you insisted.
Aemond sighed. His sword was back belted to his hip, hidden by the cloak he wore. “We’ve entered a war, sister. Fairness and humanity do not survive long on the battlefield. Do not expect much compassion during these times.”
You frown. Was Aemond always like this?
Suddenly you wish to be at home, tucked within the Keep’s stone walls, in your mother’s arms. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, you’d be back in the gardens, smelling the warm earthy smell of early springtime and feeling the cool wind play with your hair.
I want to go home now, you wanted to say when you reopened your eyes to find yourself still at Harrenhal. I don’t wanna be here anymore. Anywhere but here.
You did not know this man in front of you. Not anymore. He was no longer your older brother and protector, the man you would soon wed when the moon turned again, and the one you loved with your whole heart. Your eyes drifted back to the corpses stacked atop each other, bloodied legs and arms and messy heads strewn all over the redden dirt.
With nothing else left to say, you turned and left.
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She is many— this witch, and observant is one of them. Alys Rivers could see the way your older brother stares at you, that mix of heavy lust and longing darkening the violet in his eye.
It is quite cute, she thought. Such a shame she’s decided to claim you for herself.
Alys felt no guilt at that. You had saved her life, although she hadn’t the slightest inkling as to why. Or, maybe she did, actually. She herself was older by many decades, raven-haired, and as tall as the Prince Aemond himself. Her breasts were still heavy with milk from all the highborn children she fed throughout the years. She was a wet nurse, a bastard woman.
There were so many pretty maids, all of your own years, at Harrenhal, and yet you never once entertained them as companions.
No, instead your pretty eyes remained on her.
As the evening sunlight streamed through the castle’s windows, Alys arrived at your bedchamber, guised as a servant. In her hands, she carried a tray of plated roasted deer, goat cheese, and nutty bread, still steaming from the furn. You’ve barred yourself shut in your room for the better part of the day, too upset with your brother’s carnage to venture beyond the walls. The hour had grown late, and you must be starving.
“My princess,” she greeted softly, bowing when you let her in. You stand by the window, gazing outside at the east gate, near the Tower of Ghosts- one of the five immense towers bent and lumped and cracked from the Balerion’s fire during the conquest. As dark and ruinous as it now stands, it was still hauntingly beautiful. “Might you be hungry?”
You sniffled. “My appetite has fled me, I’m afraid.”
“At least try, child.” Alys set the tray on the desk, before taking a step back to study her new prize.
Up close, you’re very much a Valyrian beauty, with hair as silvery as moonglow and deep purple eyes. There is a certain softness and sweetness to you that strikes her fancy, from the elegant way you hold your posture to how you trailed after your brother, the prince. Her eyes fall to your breasts, and she licks her lips.
“Thank you…um…” you paused shortly, unsure of her name.
“Alys Rivers.”
You nod, smiling. “Ah, yes, Alys. I remember now. Thank you for the food,” but then you shake your head, chuckling, “But I don’t think I can stomach any food after today….brutality. I feel sick just remembering such…”
Alys felt the same way as well, though she didn’t fault the little princess for such. It was all your damned brother anyways.
An awkward silence soon followed, and it left her wondering if both you and her had swallowed your tongues in that moment. She didn’t know what to say or do, so she cleared her throat and offered you the chalice of wine she brought too. “Here, sweet princess. A bit of wine to wash away these ill thoughts.”
“Thank you, Alys.” You took a sip, quickly relaxing your shoulders. Mmm, very nice. “I wish mercy on Ser Simon Strong, and his grandsons too, may the gods give them all rest.”
Ser Simon was her great uncle too, Alys thought with some sadness. “He was an old done man, my princess,” she said, lacing her thin fingers together. She wore two silver rings on each hand that sometimes she twisted when anxious. “I like to think he lived a good life before now. He died with bravery and a sword in his hand, the way many in House Strong dream of passing.” Or dreamt, I should say. I’m the only one left, next to Larys.
The two of you spoke for the rest of the hour, moving to sit comfortably on the settee at the foot of the bed. Alys Rivers was a complete joy to be around, and very beautiful. As she talked, you took some time to admire her. Her green eyes shone like bright emeralds, and her hair was long and dark as the midnight sky, falling thickly around her ample breasts. Maybe it was the wine tonight, or perhaps her voice, but you were struck with the sudden urge to kiss her plump, pink lips.
So you did.
You leaned forward, kissing her— softly at first, until she wrapped her arm around your waist to tug you closer. Nobody had ever kissed you before, not even Aemond, although during boyhood he made several attempts to steal a kiss. Her tongue found yours in a short dance before you broke away from her, a tad breathless now.
“Princess,” Alys whispered, hands falling down to your shoulders.
“Apologies!” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed. “I cannot believe I just did that—my sincerest apologies, Alys. I don’t know what overcame me, I—” your voice was muffed as you hid away from her gaze.
She just laughed. “Was that your first kiss?... Have you been deflowered, sweet princess?”
You shook your head.
“Really?” Her dark eyebrow lifted in surprise. “With the way your brother looks at you, in truth I would’ve thought his babes were already in your belly.” Prince Aemond hasn’t bedded you yet? Alys was astonished at that. A silver flower still blossoming prettily in the rosebush, ripe for plucking? A slow smile spread across her lips.
“Aemond—he hasn’t…we’re to be married when we return to King’s Landing, I believe.”
“Do you like him?”
“I do. He is a good brother, and he will be a fine husband, and father too!” You said in a quivering voice, trying to calm your breathing. “He loves me, I think, and I love him too.”
But Prince Aemond had made you afraid of him today, she could smell it on you, even if you would never admit it aloud. This was very good. She could use it to her advantage. “Ah, I see. Well, in that case, I wish you two a fruitful and blessed marriage. You’ll make a fine wife when the day finally arrives, little princess.”
That made you pause. “I don’t know…” you mumble, picking at the skin around your nailbed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well…our elder brother, King Aegon, he took Aemond to a brothel on his thirteenth nameday. He likes to joke that our brother is well-educated in pleasing a woman. I worry that I’m not…I’m not up to his standard. Or that he may not desire me afterward.”
Alys drew back, shocked. Up to his standard? Non-desirable? Does she take him for an utter fool? For what man wouldn’t wish to bed a Targaryen princess like yourself?
She scoffed, leaning her face so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath against your lips. It sent goosebumps prickling up each arm. “Men always love a blushing maiden in their sheets. They may return to the whores in due time, but they’ll always welcome a maid in their bed, however inexperienced she might be.”
Your breath hitched at her words. Could she…maybe….? Your eyes fell back down to her heavy breasts. She was a wet nurse, after all, and confessed to being pregnant with several children of her own. Would that mean she is well experienced in pleasure…? You debated the thought in your head, weighing the consequences of asking such.
Is it really whoring if it is with another woman? It is not like I’m laying with another man….she would be a teacher, not a mistress. You closed your eyes, thinking of Aemond. And Aemond would never know. I’d never tell him.
“Will you show me?” you blurted. “Teach me, so that I might be somewhat educated in pleasure?” Maybe it would take your mind off of this morning too.
Mischief twinkled in Alys’s pretty green eyes. “If it pleases you, my princess.”
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Alys is quick to lay you down on the bed before climbing over you, straddling your waist. “I can hear your heartbeat. Do not be scared, little love. Passion is a love song, and lovemaking is merely the dance that follows.” She then takes both your hands in hers, placing them on her breasts. "I am yours to do whatever you wish, my princess." Encouraged by the look she gives you, you rub her nipples with your thumbs, before leaning to take one in your hot mouth to suckle.
She moans, cradling your head closer to her chest. “Good girl,” she whispers, eyes shutting as you flick it back and forth with your tongue.
Your other hand squeezes her other breast, enjoying the way it feels between your fingers and the moans flooding from her lips. You want to ask her if you’re the first woman she’s ever been with and if this moment is as special to her as it is to you. But her tit is still in your mouth and steals all the words away.
After a few more minutes, she pulls your mouth away to kiss you, letting you taste a bit of her tongue. “Very good,” she murmurs against your lips, kissing you again and again. “Did you like my breasts, sweetling?”
“Mmmm,” and you tug at her bottom lip between your teeth. “I did a lot, Alys. They're so soft.”
She giggles before pushing you back down, your head sinking against the pillows. Her soft hand drifts across your belly, fingers skimming below the curve of your breasts down to your hipbones and waist. “You’re so beautiful,” she says aloud, her voice thick with awe. “I dreamt of Targaryens before, but you’re far lovelier than them all, little princess.”
Your brother has been blessed with your hand, she thinks, with a mix of both sincerity and bitterness. Men never deserve such tantalizing fruits. They are all the same in their words and actions. They never truly appreciate the gods’ given gifts.
Her green eyes remain on your naked belly, imagining a soft swell to it. You’d be such a lovely mother, she’s sure. She could never give you a baby, though, but maybe….her eyes look up to yours, noticing the faint glimmers of lust clouding the pretty violet hue. It is a mirror to your older brother, Prince Aemond.
Alys thinks and thinks, taking the time to fondle your smaller breasts.
Prince Aemond could plant the seed…and she could then tend to it.
Alys’s hand continues downward, finding the mound of fine silvery hair between your thighs, grinning when she feels how wet you are. “I wonder if your cunt is as sweet as your lips,” she wonders aloud, more to herself. You bite your lip, watching with large, doe-eyes. Alys moves herself between your thighs, her pretty face hovering over your soppy pussy.
“You are just so lovely, sweet princess.” She flashes you a quick smile while running a finger through your folds, gently easing you open. Above her, you tremble.
She then presses a soft kiss to your clit before sucking it into her mouth, tongue drawing small circles around it. “Ohhhhh,” you moan, face scrunching in blissful pleasure. Alys switches between sucking and lapping at your cunt, her eyes flickering up to watch the way you react to everything. There are tiny beads of sweat lining your browbone and temple, and your fingers are slowly turning white from the tight grip on the cream sheets.   
Scream. Allow me to hear those cries. Let the entirety of Harrenhal learn who’s claimed you tonight.
Your hips buckle up against her mouth as your head lolls to the side, breathless whimpers leaving your lips when she works two fingers inside your cunt, scissoring and pumping and stroking your sweet spot until all you can see are flashes of blinding white. “ALYS,” you shriek, bringing the sheet to your mouth to bite down as hard as you can to muffle the rest of your screams. “Oh, gods be good, Alys!”
You don’t wish for your beloved Aemond to hear you, nor anyone else.
Oh, but you taste so fucking good, Alys thinks, savoring your arousal on your tongue. She continues to eat you out, as well as fucking you with her fingers, partly dreaming of a wonderful new life where she wakes up every morning between your shaky thighs, breaking fast with every sweet orgasm she pulls from you.
My princess, mine own dragon.
Several seconds later, your legs twist around the older woman’s body, breasts heaving as your whole body shakes and shudders. Your pussy clenches tightly around Alys’s fingers, a sign that you’re close to cumming. “Cum for me, sweetling,” she coos, kissing the inside of your thigh- once, twice, thrice. She feels victorious in a way, a great pride simmering within her as she eyes the way your peak comes only closer and closer.
Prince Aemond One-Eye may have sacked her Harrenhal, but she sacked his baby sister, and made the little princess her own sweet whore.  
“Would you like for me to bring your dear brother next?” she asks.
You shake your head, panting through the moans and whimpers and gasps. “He—he won’t…take me—ah, until our wedding night—”
“I have a way of fixing that,” Alys says, leaning to lick a long strip up your pussy. She has many love potions and philtres to entice the prince, a collection that would surely inflame his deep passion and lust for his sister. Although, she thinks in amusement, it shouldn’t be that hard. He wants you as badly as she did, mayhap even more. “You’ll be heavy with his child soon, sweetling, his bastard’s fire blazing in your womb.”
“He won’t father a bastard. Aemond hates bastards.”
“He’d father anything if it comes from your loins, sweet one.”
You cry, flinging your head back as you come undone at her fingers and tongue. Alys drinks everything you give her, mouthing tiny spells against your cunt. One for fertility, the second for a blessed marriage, and the third for protection. Except it won’t be between you and the prince.
Alys Rivers always did prefer women to men.
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taglist for "bewitched": @chainsawsangel @sweethoneyblossom1 @dahlias-and-marigolds @ilikeitbetterangsty @inlovewithhisblueeyes @the-cult-classic-bitch @666-aiko
taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke
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REQUEST:
Hello chaos!
Can you do a corpse x reader where the reader is the oldest and most famous faceless YouTuber and during an interview they are both in, corpse talks about how much he admires and is inspired by the reader?
omg yes anon lmao so cute. I hope you like!
-J The Ghost
死 Requests Masterpost 死 Request Topics 死 Submit A Request 死
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➢ Author: J The Ghost ➢ Pairings: Corpse X reader, Corpse X y/n ➢ WC: ~2k ➢ Themes: | One-shot | Youtubers | Fanboy! Corpse | Youtuber! Reader | Famous! Reader | ➢ Warnings: anxiety? ➢ Summary: You're a hugely famous faceless youtube creator. Anthony Padilla has both you and Corpse (and others ig) on for another interview and you find out Corpse is a HUGE fan of yours.
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Request: The "Face" Of Youtube Horror
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Corpse attempted to calm his nerves, his leg bouncing incessantly while he waited for everyone to show. He hadn’t done an interview in nearly three years, certainly not since he’d blown up this much. If you asked him then if he thought he’d ever be here again he’d laugh. In his mind, he was certain he would’ve been forgotten about by now- fallen off, gotten canceled, become old news- yet here he was, bigger than ever. 
“You feeling alright, bud?” Anthony entered the green room and handed him a water that he graciously accepted. 
“Y-Yeah I just… I’m still so anxious, you know?” Corpse spoke a little too quickly before catching his breath and taking a sip of water. 
“I get it… but it’s okay man, obviously I’m gonna blur out everyone's faces again, and no one is gonna dox you or anything.” Anthony sat by him and patted his back, trying to reassure him.
   “I know, I just- can’t help it I guess…” Corpse paused for a moment and took a breath, grateful that he’d become so close with Anthony now, “...has everyone shown up then?” 
“Yeah, Dark5 is here, Fascinating Horror, and y/n from The Graveyard Channel just showed up.”
“Wait… you’re interviewing y/n?  The Graveyard channel?” He questioned anxiously, his heart rate spiking at the mention of them.
“Yeah, we had a last minute cancellation and I was scrambling a bit…” Anthony chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I messaged a few other possible fill-ins. I was just as shocked that somehow they were available… that's showbiz though right?” He laughed again as he stood to head over to the set. “We're gonna get started though, if you want to watch before your interview.” Corpse swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded before following him out. 
The first interview with Dark 5 went well. Corpse stayed towards the back of the room behind the camera operators as he watched. He’d enjoyed watching but spent the majority of the interview talking with the creator behind Fascinating Horror, or scoping out for y/n of The Graveyard channel. He felt completely out of place. Every creator here today had heavily inspired his own content, but y/n had definitely been the biggest inspiration by far. He hugely respected the way they ran their channel, creating videos about the content they wanted to. They had really paved the way for him in terms of ‘faceless, dark/horror variety youtuber’ with their comedic horror game play-throughs, sarcastic reaction videos, and especially the creepypasta reads videos. He felt foolish for being so worked up but he couldn't deny the starstruck feelings running through him, and he hadn’t even seen or met them, yet. 
 
---
Next on the set was y/n after the first two interviews finished. They were cued to be on soon while they took a few deep breaths. They thanked the crew member and made their way to the set. They weren't really nervous per say, just unprepared. Because they’d filled in for someone else, they really didn’t have much idea of what really would be asked during the interview- or how this all would work. Anthony had given them a bit of a run-down of it all but they were still left with a feeling of being caught off guard by it all. 
They stopped off to the side of the set while waiting for Anthony to finish up the introduction bit. Once he gave them the cue, they took one last deep breath and stepped up to the set and sat beside him.
“Y/n! It’s so crazy- and fitting- to have you here today, what with you being the oldest, and largest horror content creator on the platform, and doing all of it faceless nonetheless.” Anthony introduced, almost humbly. They beamed back at the compliments he earnestly dropped, despite his “host” youtuber voice on full display. Corpse stood behind the cameras again and watched y/n settle in with a dumbfounded yet adoring expression 
“It’s great to be here! I almost didn’t answer your DM honestly, with all these “verified” accounts on Twitter I thought, certainly this can’t be the Anthony Padilla messaging me…” They joked easily, earning a hardy laugh from everyone.
“I’d say that’s a valid concern now- considering comedy is now illegal…” Anthony quipped back, pausing and looking at the camera before continuing- a move that was sure would be edited heavily with comedic burns, and or disclaimers. “But tell me, how does it feel knowing that you have paved the way into this new genre of content for- really everyone here? And done so with such wild success?” He asked more seriously as he turned back. 
“Oh god, um I mean- it is crazy, like you said. I never expected any of this really. I just wanted to see this content I guess, and I never really found much. So I started to make the content I was interested in and wanted to see. I guess I’m glad to have helped others do the same, but it really doesn't feel like I’ve done much honestly...” Y/n laughed, a bit embarrassed by the importance and influence he’d implied. 
“Oh come on, you’ve definitely done more than you’re giving yourself credit for.” He chuckled. “But it's interesting to hear that you didn’t see much of the niche for what you wanted, so you decided to create it yourself. Obviously being faceless hasn't restricted you too much, but has it made that more difficult to work around?”
“I don’t think so, no… I mean, obviously there’s ideas and concepts I can’t do because I chose to stay anonymous- but I have usually been able to find a work around for whatever idea I have that turns out better in the end.” 
The interview continued for a while. Anthony asked about several other topics and asked a few fan questions before y/n finished up. They thanked him before heading off to the side of the set, taking a seat and settling in to watch the rest of the interview. 
---
“Corpse! How are you doing man? It’s been a while since you were last on!” Anthony greeted happily. 
“Yeah, yeah it has…” Corpse chuckled nervously as he sat beside him. 
“You’ve really blown up since you were last here- you’re making all this music now- and playing Among Us…” 
“Yeah… it’s- terrifying.” He laughed dryly, trying to ignore the fanboy feeling from watching y/n be interviewed just before him. 
“I can only imagine, I mean- just before we started filming you were freaking out in the other room…” Anthony chuckled. 
“Well yeah, I mean- I’ve gotten a lot more followers since then… plus you brought up that y/n was here…” 
“That made you more anxious?” Anthony joked softly, his “host” act less obvious now since they’d become friends over the years between meeting. 
“Very.” Corpse stated emphatically. “I mean like you said they paved the way for the rest of us… I’ve watched their channel since the beginning and they were what really inspired me to start making videos…” Corpse quickly glanced over to where he’d seen them walk off set and sit before nervously continuing. “I really admire them, all their work is amazing.” His eyes trailed down to the floor while he nervously twisted his rings around. A habit he always found himself returning to when being watched.
“Oh so you’re fanboying hard right now?” Anthony joked with a chuckle.
“A little yeah…” Corpse chuckled along with him, “It’s just crazy, like I’ve blown up so much- but only because y/n carved out that path for us- and because I was so heavily inspired by their content…” He continued, rubbing at the back of his heated neck as he sat restlessly in the chair. 
---
Corpse was relieved to be finished with the interview, quickly making his way to the table in the back for a water while his nerves finally started to calm. 
“Hey… Corpse right?” Y/n questioned as they approached him. 
“Wh- um… Yeah?” Corpse stuttered softly, the nerves and anxiety all flooding back when he met their eyes. 
“Nice to meet you…” they laughed softly, flashing a kind smile “...what you said up there was really sweet.” 
“Oh- um, yeah.” He tried to slink back against the table with embarrassment. “Sorry for fanboying or whatever…”
“Don’t be! Honestly… I’m a fan of yours too- it’s crazy to hear that I inspired you…” y/n laughed nervously before continuing, “I wanted to ask though if maybe you would want to collab or something? I think we could make some really great videos together…”
“I- wh- wait seriously?” Corpse stuttered again, feeling his face heat up as he tried to collect himself. 
“Yeah, our humor is really similar- and it seems like we're into the same kind of horror topics…” y/n smiled and shrugged nonchalantly, “Why not?”
“I’m definitely down…” A huge goofy grin flashed across his face as he exchanged numbers with his biggest inspiration. He would absolutely need to thank Anthony later.
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unhonest-iago · 9 months
Text
Sup Darth Vader
Gn Reader
'Ready to wake up dad?' y/n asked their daughter Riley. 'Okay, push open the door for me.' Holding it so the duo wouldn't have to worry about the juice spilling or the loud clatter of silverware that'd sure wake Corpse up. 'Thank you.'
'Good morn' tulip.' Slowly turning over, waking up to Riley dive bombing onto his back, additional turbulence. 'Aw thanks guys.' His voice even more gravelly from sleep. Y/n hoped today wasn't a bad day in terms of Corpse's chronic illnesses. Knowing that raising a kid wasn't an easy task on top of that. Sitting down next to him, both listened as Riley rambled about her favorite show. The only other sound in the room being Corpse's cutlery.
'Is there any other surprises for today?'
'I didn't really have anything planned. Just breakfast so we could at least say we celebrated father's day. What do you want to do?' Corpse gulping down the last of his orange juice, purposely caught Riley's eye. An amused smile stretched across y/n's face, knowing where this was heading. It'd be a day in with a bunch of junk food and doing nothing but a dog pile cuddle. 'Blanket fort?'
'Blanket fort!' The two parents laughing as Riley ran out into the living room. Kissing y/n's cheek, 'Thanks for all this.' It was definitely a bad day for him, exhaustion rolling off him in waves despite being awake for at least half an hour at this point. 'Should we go see what the little gremlin's up to?' 
'Yea, I'll be there in a second.' He'd have to brace himself before getting out of bed.
'Okay, don't take too long.' Tone lighthearted, y/n and Riley would get the fort set up in the mean time. All comfy for when he finally did join them.
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domxmarvel · 2 years
Text
Don’t doubt how much I love you
Masterlist
Requested by:Anon
Pairing: Corpse husband x Female!Reader       
Words: 483  
Request: Corpse has been paranoid about your relationship ending especially since you usually come home while he is streaming, cook/eat, sometimes go to kiss him before going to bed. You don’t “visit” him while he is streaming much anymore or cling to him while watching tv or sleeping and it is making him really anxious. One day Karl asks how you were doing and he bursts into tears explaining everything. Karl tries reassuring him. You overheard everything and went in and comforted him and reminded him that you're only his. But also explained to him that you were giving him space after over hearing him say to Karl that you could be “suffocating” and how much that hurt you. 
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“She’s suffocating sometimes” Suffocating,suffocating is that what he really thought of you? Is that what you really were? You couldn’t stop thinking about it,every time you’d lean in closer to cuddle or hug him,you’d remember ‘suffocating’ and you’d stop yourself. It hurt to even look at him,which is why you did everything you could to avoid him. You’d stay late at work and come back while he was streaming,eat and get ready for bed. Bring him a bottle of water and give him a goodnight kiss before you go to bed,feeling cold and alone,but mostly sad that you couldn’t be cuddling him. You’d cry until you heard the door to his recording room open and you’d quickly stop,only to start again when you were sure he was fully asleep. Sometimes you reach out to touch his cheek but that only for a second.
***
A few days later you had a day off work and you were just laying around doing whatever,until you saw that your phone was almost out of battery and got up to grab your charger. When you walked past his recording room you heard him say your name and you just stopped. 
“Me and Y/N?”
“Yeah,how have you been doing?” Suddenly you heard him crying
“I-I don’t think she wants to be with me anymore,she doesn’t love me anymore”
“No way,Y/N loves you more than I could imagine. I don’t thing you could survive without each other”
“I don’t think so,she barely cuddles or kisses me anymore” You couldn’t take more of this,hearing him cry broke your heart. You walked in,not caring to knock as you ran to him and hugged him. “Y/N”
“I love you,don’t you dare doubt that. You’re my everything,you’re the reason I smile everyday and you’re the reason I get out of bed every morning. I love you more than you could possibly imagine”
“Than why did you-”
“Because I heard you say that I was suffocating,so I stopped. You don’t know how much it hurt to hear you saw that,that’s why I left you alone,I didn’t want to be suffocating you”
“No,Y/N that’s not what I-” He pulled you closer and you were both down on the floor. “I love you,but I find it hard to show how I feel. I was a bit jealous of how easily you showed how much you love me. I just couldn’t handle that much affection” He put his head on your shoulder “But I never wanted you to stop. When you did I thought you didn’t love me anymore”
“Corpse,I’ll always love you” You spent a moment just holding him,running your hand through his hair “Maybe just talk to me next time,okay?”
“I should’ve done that from the start”
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enderfenderdragon · 4 days
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which one do you prefer?
corpse husband
or
colby brock
which one do you prefer?
or someone else?
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banquetwriter · 25 days
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୨୧ distant love pt: 2 ୨୧
pairing: Rick Grimes ♡︎ fem!Reader
warnings: ୭̥⋆*。 canon typical violence, Rick is low-key a cheater (not on reader tho), not beta read we die like Carl
summary: ʚ basically a filler chapter from the CDC to the prison post-Woodburyɞ
Words: 2002
An: hey babies I wrote this on my phone again 😔 also i haven’t seen the earlier seasons in a very long time so mb if it’s not exactly accurate 😔😔
Part 1 Part 3
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You and Rick had kept your distance most of the morning. Looking at Shane’s black eye. “Dad, are you hungover? Mom said you would be.” Carl asks as Rick sits down at the table. You let yourself stifle a giggle at the kids' antics. Rick being drunk last night would explain his forward-ness.
You followed the group after breakfast as Jenner explained what exactly was happening to everyone. Why would the dead rise?
You watched as the x-ray video’s corpse re-animated. God that was scary. What was scarier was Jenner locking the doors. You covered your mouth as tears streamed down your face. “Oh my god.” you whimpered out.
You were going to die. You of course found yourself turning to Rick. Who was holding his wife and child? Your heart sinks.
Of course, he would be with them. You were a sidepiece. Why would he protect you? Care for you? He made his choice. It was one that you're going to have to be ok with. Even if you weren't going to live very long.
That's when the doors opened and Rick screamed for everyone else to get their stuff. You ran as fast as you could to escape. Avoiding the shards of glass that spilled everywhere Rick threw the explosive at the glass.
Your eyes rest on Lori and Rick as they sit in the front of the camper. You weren't sure how you could have ever found a real relationship with him. You think back to Lori’s words. Trying to push the two of you together. Your heart burned for her.
How low was she that she wanted her husband to sleep with another woman? You suppose she felt guilty for her and Shane being together. This was a different thought, wasn't it? Rick said he loved you. You weren't sure how much of that you believed.
It was you who saw the way Rick was after Otis accidentally shot Carl. It was you who hugged him, feeling his arms search for a sign that his boy was still alive. It was Rick who begged you to stay with him.
You wanted to, you really did. But that would have been inappropriate and unfair to Carl. This could very well be his last night alive. He shouldn't be confused about why you were there.
You see the color leave his face as he donates more and more blood to his son. Trying to comfort his wife but his eyes linger on your figure unfaithfully. Your curves would comfort him. Your soft skin and happy smiles. That's what he fell for.
He wished this wasn't the way it was. He wished he had met you instead of Lori. Marrying the first girl he could. I mean he did love Lori. As the mother of his children, he would always hold a place for her. She just wasn't you, was she?
You on the other hand shoved your feelings down, deeper than the Mariana trench. Trying to help keep the camp outside on Hershel's Farm going. Doing menial tasks like laundry or cooking. Offering to clean any weapons the group needed youto.
Trying to comfort Lori at every turn, silently becoming almost like a best friend to her. Holding her shoulders as if to say you're sorry for screwing her husband.
You used to help go on runs with Glenn and Maggie until you found them shaking up in the convenience store. It was cute to see young love budding, but seeing them naked was not something you were down to see again.
It made you jealous to see them so in love. You wished you and Rick could be that way. But alas, that's not what life has in store for you. Love. What a joke. A nimbly fickle thing.
You kept a good amount of distance between you and Shane. Not daring to go near him. One night you sat around the campfire with lori and carol. It had been a long day of playing catch-up with chores since Lori had been helping Carl rehabilitate.
“Alright girls, I'm off to bed,” Carol says with a tight-lipped smile. You and Lori talked a little bit about Glenn and Maggie.
“Y/n?” she asks looking up at you. Her gaunt and skinny face looks more and more malnourished these days. “Mm?” you ask, looking at her. “I-I know how he looks at you.” her voice barely above a whisper. You lick your lips, shaking your head.
“Lori, stop,” you ask her. Pleading almost. “You can't keep doing this to yourself, he loves you-” You try to keep your voice down but your heart breaks. “Y/n I'm pregnant,” she says.
For a second your world stops. The fires crackles keeping you grounded. You opened your mouth, unable to say anything. The amount of possible words dying in your throat. “I want it to be Rick’s. I need it to be Rick's,” she says, tears spilling down her face.
Your hands slip up to your face covering it. You let out a low breath. This wasn't about you. This was about her. You think over and over again trying to calm down all the raging emotions going through you.
“Does anyone else know?” you ask slowly, she must be feeling a whirlwind of things none of which you were entitled to have an opinion on. “Glenn does, I needed him to go out n get the tests,” she whispers straightening out her shirt, raising her hand up to her mouth and biting her nails.
Lori is absolutely exhausted, and you know more than ever she should be resting. You stay silent noting that neither potential fathers know she is pregnant. “I don't know what I'm going to do, Glenn has been trying to take care of me.” She gives a pitiful smile.
Her face was tear-stained, the streaks illuminated by the fire. “Well you need prenatal care no doubt.” you said scooting closer to her, grabbing her hands. “I think telling everyone will be the best course of action, when…” you said, pulling her into a hug.
“When you're ready,” you mumble against her shoulder. She thanked you with a sad smile standing up. You didn't sleep well that night. Not that you ever did now. You thought about the women in the next tent over probably also not sleeping.
You thought about the baby that was currently draining her of her energy. You thought of Carl. Recovering from a gunshot wound at such a young age, probably confused and scared most of the time.
And of course you thought of the man also sleeping in that tent. The one that seemed to consume your every thought. You thought of him always. It was a shame. You wished you were Lori sometimes. Sleeping in his arms pregnant with a baby.
You physically shake your head to rid yourself of your selfish thoughts. You were scared of Shane, scared of your feelings for Rick, and scared for Lori.
You were scared of the way your heart wanted to leap out of your chest every time Rick tried to talk to you. The way his rough hands would touch the soft skin of your arms. “Rick…” you breathe out trying to shy away from the older man.
The way he would beg you to stay close to him, his hot breath tickling your neck at his closeness. “This isn't the right time Rick.” you would whisper, eyes flicking up to see his teary ones.
Dark almost permanent circles surrounded his eyes. You pull away from his grasp and run out of the Greene’s house. You stood by Daryl's side as you read him shitty books you found on runs trying to provide him an ounce of comfort as he recovers from the bullet wound that Andrea gave him.
And be would try and provide an ounce of that comfort to you as the barn full of walkers is discovered. Taking all of your willpower not to vomit at the smell. Turning away from the group. Allowing yourself a moment, just a moment of selfish comfort.
As Rick’s arms wrap around you. Breathing in his musky scent. The sounds of the guns firing off still ring in your head. “It's ok, you're going to be ok,” Rick mumbles in your ear. His hand clasped gently in the back of your neck.
As soon as the moment is here it's gone as you see Shane’s angry face peering at the both of you from a few feet away. Your face fills with embarrassment, you rip away from his embrace instead choosing to hug Carol who was sobbing over the loss of her daughter.
You spent the next few days in a constant state of dissasostivate numbness. Unable to feel anything other than fear. Seeing Rick and Shane keep a man locked up in the barn for fear of what he could do.
Even though your group was the one keeping him held, handcuffed, and bound. As soon as he goes missing it seems to bring you out of your state as Shane comes running with a broken nose claiming that the prisoner ran away.
You ran into the house with all the women. Fearing for what was next. Trying to hide in case he came back with his group. Seeing all the panic spread through the group as the barn is set on fire. The horde of walkers attacking your slice of peace.
You barely make it out with your lives. Reconnecting with your group on the highway with everyone. Once again seeing Rick’s eyes falling on you as he hugs you with his family. You turn away from him, finding comfort in Daryl's embrace.
You watched as Rick distended into madness and anger after killing Shane. Demanding that whatever he said went. This was not the man you fell in love with. This was not the human your body craved comfort from.
Revealing how his son had to be the one to put his best friend down after he turned into a walker. Which was bizzare you never took him for type to get bit or even scratched.
That's when Rick reveals the delicate information that you all carry the virus. A crucial piece of information that sends the group into a frenzy of anger. You felt very sick. How could he keep that from you? From the group?
It only went downhill from there. Rick and Lori are always fighting as she grows more and more pregnant. The sheriff was unable to hide his anger towards her. Constantly on the run, even once you find and fortify the prison, the Governor and all of his bullshit wreaks havoc on the group.
It's been 6 months since Woodbury fell, you had a big group. Full of amazing people. A decent farm and garden. Life was decent. Judith was a beautiful baby girl.
You sighed setting your pencil down in the crease of your sketchbook. You had picked it up on a run not too long ago, at first mostly making a few sketches and doodles to entertain Carl.
Although lately, you have been trying to work through your feelings through the pages of the book. Unfortunately, most of them were about Rick. You always observed him when he was working in the fields.
You could almost see the heat radiating off of him. His t-shirt is clinging to his sweaty body. To his strong sculpted muscles. Fuck. He was so hot.
It brought you back to those nights in the quarry. His rough hands gripped your soft flesh. Back arching as you slammed into him. Tongues slipping into each other's throats.
You lick your lips slightly admiring your drawing. It was of a man who looked suspiciously like Rick. His tired haunted face and sculpted body were barely covered. “Hey.” a southern voice took you away from your explicit drawing.
You look up to see the man in your drawing staring right back at you.
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lxdyred · 1 year
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Among snakes I shall dance
Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Targaryen!Fem!Reader
Next chapter
Summary: Rhaenyra's firstborn finds herself surrounded by the greens and, to her misfortune, betrothed to one of them. So she begins to plan how to take them down, one by one, from the inside.
Word count: 2.8K
Warning: Allusions to incestuous relationship (it's HOTD, come on!), use of obscene language (c-word used somewhere), some characters might be a bit out of character. And this is my fist time writing about GOT universe, so yeah :)
Tag list: Open!
Feedback is really appreciated! ❤️
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"Do you want to execute the princess, the only daughter of Rhaenyra?" the queen asked incredulously, after standing up.
"Your Grace." The Master of Ships, Tyland Lannister spoke. "You must know that to leave her, her mother and bastard brothers and alive would be to jeopardise the integrity of yours son's reign."
"Let us not forget about Daemon either, I stress again." Otto dropped, running a hand through his beard.
"I will not allow you to execute the princess." Spoke firmly and sternly, Alicient. "Viserys loved his granddaughter in a very special way. I will not allow you to proceed with this absurd idea when my husband's corpse is not even cold yet. I will not let you sully his memory in this way. And whoever does so will be sent to the wall."
"You propose to let her go, my queen?" the Hand of the King asked, one eyebrow arched at his daughter. "Need I remind you that she is her mother's heiress? And that she, in turn, is just as dangerous? Any pretender to the throne can be a threat to your son."
"I propose something, an alternative that might work." Tyland Lannister spoke. "What if you marry her off to someone loyal to Aegon?" he proposed as he swept his gaze over everyone present.
"That would be a good alternative. The young princess is Targaryen and Velaryon, pure Valyrian blood unlike her brothers, she is the only one who resembles somehow to her late father, Ser Leanor. To betroth her to someone we trusts would do well." Grand Maester Orwyle commented with a nod, it seemed to be a great idea. "An advantageous marriage might prevent bloodshed, might even make her mother swear fealty to Aegon and bring them to kneel.”
"To whom would you offer the Red Mermaid’s hand, Grand Maertre?" Alicent asked once she stopped to think about the idea.
"You could betroth her to Lord Strong. Ser Larys is loyal to you, My Queen. To Aegon."
"I could betroth the princess." Tyland replied, a small smile plastered on his face. They all looked at him.
"That is a good offer, Ser Tyland, but I think Prince Aemond would be suitable." The smile that had been on the Lannister's face moments before was wiped away at those words. "He would know how to tame the young princess, who to our misfortune is as wild as her brothers and mother." Otto added the last with venom, who glanced at his daughter who was thinking about the whole situation.
"We would start, moreover, with the advantage that both of them were close in childhood." Orwyle spoke. "I propose, if we all agree, that the ceremony take place as soon as possible."
Alicent nodded. "We shall marry them right after Aegon's ceremony. By nightfall."
"It would also be advisable to have the princess present at the coronation. It would give a message of unity, so anyone loyal to Rhaenyra would think twice."
"Let there be no more talk. After Aegon's coronation, Prince Aemond and the Princess will be wed tomorrow before the day ends."
Once the green council had settled all the matters they had to deal with to carry out their plan, the queen, along with the company of Ser Criston Cole, went in search of the princess to let her know what would become of her. How before nightfall of the next day she would be married to her uncle, who in what seems to have been a past life, was a friend of hers.
"My queen." Said the young princess once she saw Alicent in front of her, bowing after addressing her. "I suppose you have come to give me the terrible news that my beloved grandsire has passed away." Spoke the silver-haired young woman with a soft tone.
"That is not the only reason I am here, my dear." The Hightower woman spoke as she approached her granddaughter-in-law with a sad smile.
The Queen looked at the you woman. She could clearly see that she had been weeping for hours over the pass of Viserys, who had been so important to her. Even though she had not been able to see her grandsire for the past six years, the two had been corresponding by letters weekly, which had made the bond between grandsire and granddaughter very close.
"I am so sorry for your loss." Spoke the young woman who stood by the window of her room, which overlooked the inner courtyard of the castle. She knew things were wrong when she saw the behaviour of the people in the castle different, as if they were following a protocol. Well, let's just say that Ser Criston Cole locking her in her room and the guards taking anyone who worked in the castle to the dungeons - where she supposed they were sent - were two other big signs.
"I too am sorry for your loss, sweet child." The queen murmured as she took the young woman’s hands for her attention. "There is something I must inform you of."
"What is it?" the young one looked at the Queen, once her mother's best friend and now her grandmother by marriage to Viserys.
"Viserys… before he passed away, he told me one thing." The brown-haired woman began to explain to the silver-haired. "He told me that his dying wish is that your uncle, Aegon, should succeed him as king."
The young princess shook her head in confusion. "Pardon me?" she asked with a frown, still showing signs of confusion. "It makes no sense at all. He made my mother his heir." Said the young woman turning away. "He wanted my mother to rule the kingdoms."
"It's true. He told me, he changed his mind, it was his dying wish. For your uncle to be the new king."
"Is that what you had to tell me, dear Grandmother?" The young woman asked as she folded her arms, still frowning, but this time she did not show confusion, if not displeasure. "Is that why I have been locked up all day? To keep me from running away? Or perhaps, to keep me prisoner and use me to your advantage and make my mother bow the knee to your son?" The young woman exclaimed in anger. "I will not allow my mother to kneel."
"They wanted to execute you." Alicent spoke calmly, resting her hand on her granddaughter’s cheek. "I have prevented it. But to avoid a war, we have made a decision, of which I have come to tell you."
The young Velaryon laughed cynically. "To keep me prisoner, I assume." She took a step back.
"Of course not."
"You are telling me I can go back to my mother, to Dragonstone? Or back to Driftmark where I am supposed to go with my Grandmother?" The young woman looked around and sighed. "Where is my grandmother? Princess Rhaenys. Do you have her locked up too? Or have you executed her already?"
"She is well. In her room, making a decision."
"I see." The young woman dropped into the chair next to the window. "Seven hells." She dropped her head into her hands. "So... can I go now? I mean, if I am not a prisoner, I would like to leave as soon as possible." She looked up and looked at the queen, who was staring out the window, in silence.
Alicent continued to stare out the window, until she turned silently, with a serious countenance, then broke the silence. "You're getting married. Tomorrow night, after Aegon's coronation."
Like her mother in her day, the young woman did not want to get married. She wanted to live her life freely, free of responsibilities and heavy burdens. In a way, because she knew she was not made to be a pretender to the Iron Throne, which had given her so many headaches throughout her life. She knew that her younger brother, Jace, would be a better candidate when the time came. That was why, the day before, after what had happened in the throne room with Veamond Velaryon, she knew she must speak to her mother before she went home.
"Mother, may I have a word with you, please?" The firstborn said to her mother, who was with Daemon, preparing to leave the red keep. They both looked at their daughter.
"I will leave you two alone." Said the Prince, preparing to give both women space.
"That's not necessary, Father." Daemon was not her father, but since Leanor's passing, he had taken it upon himself to play that role, protecting and thus teaching the young woman everything he knew of the world, from High Valyrian to how to fight with a sword. "I would like you to stay. Please."
"What's wrong, dear?" Rhaenyra said, approaching her daughter in fear that something bad had happened. "She took her daughter’s face, and could see sadness and uncertainty in her expression.
Daemon approached her as well, and placed a hand on her shoulder, a sign of support and encouragement for her to speak. "If someone has done or said something to you, tell me who it is and I will kill them. No hesitation, you know that.”
"Nothing bad has happened, everything is fine, really, father." she said with a small smile at her father's overprotective reaction. "I wanted to let you know before you leave…my intentions."
"Your intentions about what, my daughter?"
"I do not desire the Iron Throne, mother. I do not wish to be your heir." The young woman spat quickly. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint the person she loved most in the world. "Jace would be a better king. He should be your heir. I wanted to tell you, but... I didn't want to disappoint either of you. I- I'm sorry, mother. I'm not up to it." The young Velaryon girl burst into tears.
"You could never let us down, sweetheart. Never, do you hear me?" Rhaenyra hugged her daughter tightly. Daemon smiled briefly at her and stroked her long silver hair.
Alicent's words really did hit her like a bucket of cold water. "Of course I am not getting wed!" The girl exclaimed. "No."
"If for the sake of your family, you want to avoid a war and getting them all killed, that's what you have to do," Alicent spoke calmly, with a tone that sent shivers down her spine.
This could not be happening.
Fuck it all.
Fuck the greens and their manipulations.
Fuck Alicent Hightower and the snake she had for a father.
"And who is the highest bidder to whom you have sold me, my queen?" the Velaryon said the last with mockery. "Ser Larys Strong? Or perhaps Ser Tyland Lannister?"
"Aemond, of course. Your dear uncle."
"I-no... He's-"
"Ser Criston." Called the Queen to the new Commander of the Kingsguard, who until then had been on the other side of the door to the princess's chambers, waiting for Alicent.
"My Queen." Said the knight once he entered the room. He looked at the princess and gave a small bow with his head. "Princess."
"Ser Criston, escort the princess for a little stroll to the gardens. She's been cooped up here all day, I'm sure some fresh air will do her good."
"As you commanded, my Queen."
Great, we're going on a small trip with Cole. Sounds like fun.
Spoiler. No.
A few moments later, when the Queen had left the place, together with the Commander's company, the young Velaryon woman went for a walk, in silence, to the Red Keep’s gardens.
It was strange to be walking in the Keep at this hour. It was almost dark, everything was dark, there was hardly anyone in the there, only guards and a few servants going to their rooms. There was not as much light as she remembered from when she was younger, except for a few torches and candles.
No doubt, the Red Keep had changed, it was not the place she loved to be in her childhood. Now it was just a dreary, cold place, a memory. A shell of its former self.
"Enjoying the walk, niece?" A voice interrupted them.
"Uncle." The girl whispered as she saw her uncle leaning against a brick pillar.
"I suppose you have been informed of the great news by now, hm?" The young Prince took a sip from the cup in his hand.
"Yes." She said in a dry tone, as she watched his every move.
"It will not be so bad, do you think?" The silver-haired Prince arched an eyebrow, before taking a final sip from his cup and setting it down.
She watched as the cup fell to the ground and the noise it made when it made contact with it. The noise echoed down the hallway.
In a way, that was how she felt. As if she was falling and was about to make an impact with something that was going to end her.
She didn't know at what point he had approached, but now he was standing in front of her, a smirk plastered on his face. "Don't you think it is funny?" He asked her, she watched him. She noticed his features slightly illuminated under the torches. His eyepatch was what caught her attention the most. She thought about the sapphire that was underneath. "By this time tomorrow we will be married. We will be one before the gods." She looked at his only eye, his blue gaze attracted her, much to her dismay.
"Delightful." She snapped wryly.
"Don't take it like that, princess. We will have a good time, just like when we were kids."
Something about him was attracting her. She didn't know what it was exactly, but it was electrifying. She looked closely at his long, seemingly silky hair, his high cheekbones, his perfect nose. His lips. Those lips, which were quirked into a mocking smile.
"I would rather jump from the highest tower of the Keep, my Prince." That was what came from between the lips of the young woman, who feigned sweetness.
"Seven hells. You really feel like it, hm?" Aemond said as he took the young woman's chin and lifted her face, so that she would look at him. "It is alright. I am dying for it too." He whispered teasingly before placing a kiss on the young woman's forehead, as if this was a game. "Ser Criston."
"Yes, my prince?"
"Please take my betrothed back to her chambers. She must rest for tomorrow." The young Prince ordered.
"As you command." Replied the brown-haired knight at the young man's command.
"Good night, my dear. We have an exciting day ahead of us tomorrow."
That was when she made up her mind to send it all to hell.
If she was going to be surrounded by Snakes from now on, unable to be with her family, she was going to do everything she could to destroy them from the inside. Or at least try and enjoy the process.
After all, she was her mother's daughter. She wouldn't let them finish her off so easily.
"Fuck all of this, fuck this place. Fuck all of them." She whispered.
The commander heard her. "You could have your tongue cut out for saying that." Criston told her, as she was escorted on her way to her room.
"Would you do it yourself, Ser Criston?" The girl gave the knight a fleeting glance.
"If I were ordered to." He replied.
"Surely you would enjoy it, would not you?"
The commander frowned and gave the young woman a look full of anger and displeasure.
"This can stay between us, Commander. It could be our secret, one more we would have." The young woman paused as she almost reached the door to her quarters. "I know you loathe my mother, that you resent her and that if it were up to you she would be dead. I also know that you think the same of me. That I am a savage and perhaps a spoiled cunt, worthy daughter of my mother? Perhaps?"
"You should go inside your room, princess. You must rest."
"Yes, don't worry. But first I want to tell you one thing. As I have already told you, all this may be our secret." The Velaryon woman spoke as she finished heading to the door of her quarters, once she reached the door she looked at the knight. "Well. As I was saying, I know you hate my mother, and I also know why, because she supposedly made you break your vows, the ones you took when you entered the kingsguard, am I wrong?"
Cole took a breath, thus trying to control the anger he was beginning to feel at hearing the young woman's words. His knuckles were white now. “What are you trying to say?”
"You see I am also my father's worthy daughter. For that I think you should be glad, don't you think? After all, not many Commanders of the Kingsguard have a daughter who is a princess." The young woman opened the door to her room. "I'm going to get some rest now. Good night, Commander. Oh! My mistake - should I address you as father from now on?"
No doubt she was going to do her best to destroy them from the inside. One by one, if that wasn't too ambitious of her.
Anyway, she was going to try to enjoy the process.
Even if it ended with her.
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