#i just can't bear the thought of these two fighting

[cvntyworld]

omg are you gonna do a part two to your platonic ghoul fic I need to see if ghoul gets his ring back 😭

no refunds ( the ghoul / cooper howard )

summary: after finding the culprit behind his stolen ring, the ghoul decides to take you with him for a visit to your local pawn shop to get it back, to hell with the no refund policy, there's always option two.

part one , klepto

contents: part two to klepto, usual fallout shenanigans, violence, gore, shootout, reader insults the ghoul, he's a hater through and through, platonic relationship, reader ends up in a gun fight, ghoul traumatizing reader further, pawn shop owner polks the bear and brings up coopers family and it doesn't end well for him, tried to make this more soft but still rough, kinda sad, ect...

What the predicament you'd gotten yourself into with the scary cowboy dressed ghoul who smelled rotten and had an even more rotten attitude towards you.

Of course, you understood his attitude was valid, you had stolen from him after all, but, you were sure people would have done far worse to him in the time he's been alive. He still ruined your days, basically the rest of your week, he'd not even given you the chance to wrap a bandage around your hand or use a stim pack on the open wound he very obviously caused, your nose stopped bleeding but it was still very out of place and broken, he didn't care, he didn't have to, he just wanted his ring back and for some reason he thought he had to bring you along to get it. He had an annoying grip on your arm, marching you along as if you were a scolded child, and then there was the annoyance you felt as he whistled a tune while walking.

The few townsfolk that wandered around after dark were eyeing the pair of you warily, some glanced concerned as you walked past, you were a familiar face amongst them, a young face at that and those with hearts worried at the sight of you being forced along by a ghoul, and while the concern was obvious it wasn't confronted because most folks who lived here were cowards.

Your feet dragged slightly, tired from all the walking and desperate for rest, but you weren't going to receive it, not until the ghoul got back what was his. A rattly cough had erupted from him and he stopped, leaning over to try and breathe better, he let go of your arm as he heaved, taking an inhaler with liquid gold out of his pocket and letting it be breathed in heavily. You didn't bother running, he was very clear that would end with a bullet to your legs and a bullet to the legs would be bad for business on your end. He rose to his full height again with a breath and adjusts his hat on his head before turning to you, scoffing when he saw the grimace on your face. "That's some awful ass cough you've got, Mister." You stated and he huffs out a breath, shoving your shoulder to push you forward, you stumble over your feet and roll your eyes when you find that the pawn shop has entered your line of vision, with hesitant steps you approach the door and stop.

"What's the hold up?" He asks sharply and you turn with a wary stare, catching his questioning gaze, "They're closed so..." You trail off and he tilts his head, "And?" Was all that he replied back, "Well, we can't go in if they're closed, it's a rule around here, Mister..." The ghoul approaches, with a smug grin, "I don't know if you've forgot but I ain't from around here, so, guess that don't apply to me." He laughs breathily and opens the door, shoving you inside with an aggravating push and following after, the bell above that old door jingled and made you flinch, your nerves shot to hell as the ghoul approached the counter and knocked on the wooden surface mockingly.

"Yoo Hoo, anybody home?" He calls out smug, and you're quick to spot the older man who runs the place entering from the back room, looking rather furious. "Y/N, the hell are you doing here, can't you read? Sign says closed!" He states sharply and you stare with worried eyes, your gaze gesturing to the ghoul who was leaning on the counter, a rhythmic tap to his gloved fingers as he catches the mans attention, his eyes narrowing in disgust as he turns back towards you furious, "Now what in the fuck do you think you're doing bringing that fucking thing in here?" You're quick to take a step back unsurely, something the ghoul notices, and so he turns back to the man with a sigh, "I'd rethink that tone, you're scaring the little one." John Joe, the owner, draws his attention to the ghoul, "If anyone is scaring the little one, it's you, they're good for giving me the shittiest of shit and they know not to come here the moment that sign says closed so I'll bet the stupid little shit stole something of yours."

An unsettling silence filled the store and the ghoul nods, "Lookie here, Y/N, we've got ourselves a know it all." The ghoul laughs at his own words when you merely stare at him with worry in your eyes. "Not a know it all at all, just a good listener, little Y/N here was talking shit when they'd waltzed on in here this afternoon with that ring, going on about how they'd stolen some ring off a feral ghoul, looks like they get the feral part wrong, you're him, aren't you?" You glance between the two, confused, at John Joe and his words, who was him, the ghoul turns to you with this unreadable stare and you want to disappear, "That true? Were you being an arrogant little shit about who you've been stealing from?" Your terrified face says it all and in that moment you're so sure he's going to kill you, shoot you dead right there, but instead he laughs wheezily at you and then pats you on the back, almost proudly, you feel yourself tremble and try to shuffle away but he was no longer staring at you but at John Joe, who gave him the middle finger, but it wasn't the insulting hand you'd both been staring at, but what he wore on it.

A simple gold band, hammered out to fit on John Joe's fat middle finger. You glance up to stare at the ghoul in front of you and he wasn't as humoured as he was when he had walked in, his hardened stare made you take in a breath, fear churning within you as the silence became a lot more insufferable than before. John Joe put his hand down with little care, "Now, when little Y/N walked on in here with this beautiful little thing, they thought that it'd been boring, just another thing to make up the caps, but as soon as I had a closer look I knew exactly who this had belonged to, hell, I knew you'd go after them for it, they were stupid enough to steal from you of all folks so I let em' go home with more caps than usual, compensation for the death sentence they gave themselves."

The Ghoul was still quiet and you felt yourself backing up slightly when you saw his fist clench tightly by his side, "I had a replacement in place for you anyway, your shit was getting a little boring, no offence, kid, I thought that you'd never step foot in here again, that he'd shoot you dead." A laugh left him and he turned to the ghoul once more, "It's at least what I've heard from all those stories, you killed a lotta folks for less, or maybe, just maybe, some little shits rebellious tendencies are bringing back some memories, a certain someone, ain't that right, Coop?"

Coop, you frowned at the name, when you'd first walked in John Joe acted as if he'd known nothing about him, he acted oblivious to who this ghoul was and now he acted as if he knew every little thing about this ghoul that stood beside you silently. "I bet you miss that little girl of yours a whole lot, the wife too - pardon my mistake, ex wife." You knew he was poking the bear and you grew worried when the Ghoul laughed abruptly and then went silent, the two stared at one another for a moment and just as John Joe is reaching for his gun under the counter, the ghoul held his gun forward and fired, the bullet smashing apart flesh and bone, John Joe's hand being shot clean off, you are quick to stumble back in fright, watching as the ghoul is approaching the hand slowly and picking the limb up, a sadistic grin as he slides the ring off the useless finger, a breathy laugh leaving him as he stares at it.

John Joe was screaming, whaling, rolling around with a look of pure agony as he clutched his handless arm, the ghoul wasn't finished yet, rounder the counter with a tilt of his head, staring down at him mockingly, "You're right about one thing." He says calmly, "I have killed people for less." He admits and John Joe's cries are cut off when he pulls the trigger once more, shooting him dead without a care in the world.

You remain quiet, pressed into a corner with a frightened look, tears burn in your eyes but you blink them away the moment the ghoul looks up to find you. "Dry your eyes, if I was gonna kill ya, I woulda done it the moment you had came through the front door of that little house of yours." The reassurance didn't give you a lot of comfort and you watch as he slips the ring into his pocket again. "Why do you hide it, your ring, I mean?" You ask suddenly and the ghoul glances in your direction, meeting your curious yet worried eyes, he shrugged, "It's like your deceased friend said, ain't no point wearing a ring when there ain't a wife to wear it for."

You move forward but not enough that you're near John Joe's dead body, "My daddy still wore his ring, even after my mama passed away, it's the one thing that he kept of her, the one thing he didn't sell off to some lowlife." You'd remembered that ring, it was made of wire, it was still on his finger when they'd chopped his hands off.

The ghoul laughed quietly, "hate to break it to you, but, I ain't the sentimental type like your daddy was, sweetie." You scoff at this, "My dad wasn't sentimental, far from it, he just, he loved my ma, you know?" The ghoul sighs at your saddened words, but didn't attempt to bring a kind of comfort to you, you didn't want comfort. "Do you ever miss your wife, mister?" You suddenly ask and he felt as if he'd been frozen in place, unsure why he would even let a conversation like this open up, he felt his heart in his coat pocket, the ring cold against his hands.

"All the time." He admits quietly, "All the damn time." You frown, a waver of sympathy that comes and goes and at his final answer he approaches you and places the pouch of caps in your hands that he'd stolen from you when he had broken into your home.

"You keep that heart of yours strong, ya hear?"

Then he was gone.

#fallout #fallout tv show #fallout tv series #cooper howard x platonic reader #the ghoul x platonic reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul #he's a little bit nicer here but it's just cause he wanted his ring back #hopefully i didn't totally get him out of character but i needed to add a little dialogue between him and the reader yk

[bestworstcase]

So! That new rwby beyond episode huh?

I can't do intros for shit. Do you think Ozcar's answer to Jaune's question of "Do you think we're gonna make it?" was, in part, them dodging the question? Not revealing how unsure they feel and instead choosing to comfort Jaune with "Around those campfires, did it really matter?" Do you think of that answer as a cop-out, or as a legitimate answer? Both perhaps?

oh oz absolutely thinks they’re not gonna make it. i am so sure about that.

bc the thing is, ozpin thought he’d been at war with salem for centuries, he thought he’d managed to keep her out and whittle away her influence down to almost nothing. right. his whole reason for handling the situation the way he did in v1-3 is he believed that salem wouldn’t leave the shadows, wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her secrecy. the thing about his paranoia in seeing salem’s hand behind every grimm attack and every period of unrest or war is he had no idea what salem was capable of or how far she would go, but he believed that he did.

within the space of, like, maybe a year and a half, salem has. knocked down beacon academy, forced haven academy to close by assassinating most of its faculty, laid siege to atlas with a fleet of millions of grimm and directly caused atlas to fall, and within a few weeks of that razed vale to the ground. three of his four academies are either destroyed or defunct; two whole countries are just. Gone. it’s been a year and a half!

he. underestimated. really really badly, he underestimated salem and for him this past year has been a harrowing journey of discovering exactly how badly he underestimated her. a year and a half and they’ve gone from “unprecedented era of peaceful prosperity” to desperate last stand. oz hasn’t been in such dire straits since the final battle of the great war when he resorted to using two relics to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, and now one of those is within salem’s reach, and if they take the sword out of its vault that’s just one step closer to salem getting her hands on it.

like, oscar annihilated her millions of grimm in atlas and a few weeks later she turned around and flattened vale.

this is not a fight they can win. and i think oz is painfully aware of that. (the whole point is that the only way out is through negotiation. they have to stop fighting her and start talking to her.)

but i also think he meant “around that campfire, did it matter?” very genuinely because he found his hope again when he returned in atlas, and the situation being hopeless has no bearing on how he chooses to look at it or how he chooses to act. so things are very very bad but oz is, emotionally, in a much better place now than he was at the beginning of the story when things appeared to be okay. it’s the next step from “fear isn’t worthy of our concern”

#but yeah he #he does not think they have a chance in hell #and they don’t! not until they start talking!

[winkwonkwankwenk]

Nanami Head-Cannons!! (SFW & NSFW)

SFW

Works like a dog to provide for you, definitely works overtime and stacks vacation days like change in a jar. Some weeks you only ever feel him peck your cheek in the morning and the next time you see him with be the weekend- if you're lucky.

He misses you constantly, so much that he'll often accidently type your email along with his usual ones and you end up knowing all the company's trade secrets. Oops.

He sends you gifts every day he's away, from flowers to cakes to flights to your favorite places- he gifts you so often you've got a closet just for all the teddy-bears and a greenhouse to preserve your bouquets.

The two of you stay in a massive house so it's very lonely when he's gone. He makes sure to call you at least twice a day, morning and night.

He knows what time you wake up and time you go to sleep because he's memorized your sleeping pattern. He knows when to send chocolates and shopping money because he has your period app on his phone too and pays close attention to the notifications.

He came home to you crying in bed one night and called out of work for a month to make up for loss time. Ever since then, even during busy seasons, he makes sure to at least spend a week with you.

During his days off, he treats you to expensive dates cute strolls through gardens. He wants to impress and please you daily, and worries if you don't seem to be enjoying yourself. "Do you want a different dish?" and "Honey, we can go somewhere else if you'd prefer to" are phrases you've often heard when he's getting into his head.

He has a photo of you in his wallet and several in his office. Your wedding photos decorate his desk, along with vacation photos and cute pictures he snuck of you when you weren't looking. You're his Lock screen, home screen, and background on all of his computers.

He's never raised his voice at you and he never will. Even when the two of you fight, he can't help but dote on you and promise you the world. Whatever has you upset, he'll fix, even if it costs him an arm and a leg. "I like when you express yourself, Honey." He'll apologize for anything he's done to upset you and when you struggle to communicate he patiently waits and praises you for every word you manage to say. "Tell me what's on your mind and I'll do everything I can to make things better"

He's a funny man, his humor a mix of sarcasm and corny jokes. He'll tell you knock-knock jokes when you're sad and awful dad jokes when the two of you have calmed down from an argument but you can't help but laugh when he pulls you into a warm hug. How are you supposed to stay mad at such a charmer?

He'll feel guilty when he comes home to see you cooked dinner days ago and he never got to eat it. To make up for it, he'll cook you breakfast and leave it out for you before he heads off to work- even if he's exhausted. It's the least he can do.

NSFW (Kinky stuff ahead per usual hehe)

He has...scandalous pictures of you locked in a drawer of his desk. They come in handy during late shifts when he needs to let off steam and doesn't want to wake you. He'll bite down on his tie and groan as he jerks off under his oval desk.

He gets so turned on when you pull his tie. One night, he came home tense to see you having a late night spa session in the bath. You asked him to join and he insisted on showering to get off the grime of the office but then you pulled his tie with those dainty little hands and pulled him into the water. You thought he would be mad, but then he stripped out of his clothes before you could blink and fucked you senseless. Something about the pressure around his neck really gets his blood flowing.

Nanami caught you listening to him working out once and made sure to invite you to join him. He pinned you under him as he did push-ups, making sure you heard every grunt and groan. "You like that?" He whispered into your ear as you squeezed your thighs together under him. "I'll make sure to be extra vocal from now on."

Phone sex- the two of you have it at least once a week. Sometimes the pictures in his desk aren't enough and he has to wake you. His breaths are heavy, voice husky as he shows you his boner. "Look what you do to me, Y/N..." He'll whisper as your groggy eyes struggle to focus, "Help me fix it, okay Honey?"

He found your toys in the closet one day when he came home and was pissed. Not because you were using them but because he wasn't there to watch. He asked if you'd be okay with him having a camera in the bedroom to watch you and was so excited when you said yes. From then on, you've made sure to give him his own special liveshow- always sending him a text before you masturbate.

One day, he had left his lunch at home, so you brought it to him only to accidently interrupt a meeting. Before you could apologize he had you in his lap in his big office chair, secretly fingering you. You buried your face into his thick neck to stay quiet and squeezed his shoulders for relief. The moment the meeting was over he bent you over his desk and rammed into you.

His voice is so soft and sweet during sex, especially when he coos and praises you while talking you through your orgasms. "Y/N, look at me, Honey." and "Such a good girl...keep clenching like that, okay?" along with "What a pretty woman you are...I'm so lucky to have you."

His favorite positions are Mating-press and Nelson because he gets so deep inside of you he can feel your womb eagerly opening for his release.

He's got a monster. It's not eight inches, not nine, not even ten- 12 girthy inches casually hangs between his legs. He always makes sure to prep you well before even pulling it out.

Your pleasure over his- always. Even if he can barely keep his eyes open he'll put his back into it to make you orgasm.

Vacations are always romantic trips to one of his beach houses. He'll feed you chocolate-covered strawberries and expensive wines, then lay you down on the beach and eat you out until your toes curl in the sand.

He's going to put a baby in you. Period. The two of you have already discussed expanding the family and the moment you were on board he made sure to empty his balls every time the two of you had sex. He made sure not a drop of his cum spilled out, sometimes plugging it in with one of those toys you would play with in the livestreams.

You're his priority, in and out of bed. He treats aftercare like his biggest responsibility. He'll run a warm bath, carry you to it, wash you, dry you, comb and brush your hair- the list goes on and on. He'll order your favorite food and feed it to you, then soothe you until you fall asleep in his arms. He likes your body, but he loves you.

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#Wink writes 💗 #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami hcs #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk headcanons #nanami x you

[glearyyyne]

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

Part 2

Synopsis: Here you are at the Brighter Days Inc., hoping it would help you remove Satoru's memory in your fragile heart.

Word Count: 2,787 words

Warning: Heavy angst

Note: This was based on the mv of ariana's latest song, I felt like I need to make that version of the one and only it boy Gojo Satoru! This is best to read while listening to we can't be friends (wait for your love)

_____________________________________________________________

Pen clicking

You stared dully at the paper in front of you that was waiting to be sign. Your mind was all over the place the moment you walked inside with the stuff you used to cherish. With full determination, you decided to end things for your own good.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.

            ___ Yes            ___ No       

You sigh, dropping the pen as you try collecting your thoughts by staring at the box beside you that has all of the stuff you had with Gojo.

Satoru...

Oh how that name sounds so sweet yet painful.

Tears swell in your eyes reminiscing those elegant sapphire eyes that used to look at you with so much love that you missed.

Your eyes stumbled upon the white teddy bear, it was his first anniversary gift.

**

"Babe, look here" Satoru spoke with so much happiness.

You two were at the arcades, trying to have some fun after you two finished eating lunch together. "I bet you can't get that" You suddenly told him with a smirk. Satoru looked at you with his competitive look, "I bet you I can indeed get that" he said before putting a token inside the machine to start the claw machine.

The game was super easy, just try and claw a stuffed toy and bring it to where it was supposed to fall but this machine in front of you was known to scam people. That's what you taught, but Satoru proved you wrong.

With determination and focus he had when getting that teddy bear that only cost around a dollar to some store, he managed to safely get the teddy bear after so many tries.

Satoru's eyes widened when the claw didn't let go of the teddy bear when it was brought above as it safely held the teddy bear before dropping to where he could receive it. He screamed in joy not caring about the people around him.

"Darling! Look! I got it!" Satoru told you with a joyful tone as you giggled at his actions before he gave it to you. "Me? But you worked so hard just to get it" You said as you held the teddy bear with love.

"Yeah, but it shows how much I'll do anything to give you what you want" He said with those soft and loving eyes as if nothing else matters in this world just you and him.

**

When you heard your name being called, you stopped thinking about him as you touched your cheek when you felt a tear-stained. The nurse asked if you were ready to go. "A-ah just a second" you hurriedly said and hastily grabbed the pen to sign the paper.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.

          ✓ Yes            ___ No      

You stood up and gave the nurse the signed paper before grabbing the box and head inside the room. The doctor greeted you enthusiastically as he told you to give the nurse the box you were holding.

As soon as you gave her the box, you sat down on the treatment chair with anxiety creeping your body. Feeling your heart start to beat loudly as if fighting you to stop this nonsense.

"Is it your first time? I can see how your eyes move around" The doctor asked with his lightening laugh just to ease you up.

"Yeah, sorry I just really don't know how to calm myself" You said, fiddling your fingers to atleast help calm you down. "Don't worry actually what happens to most of our patients who came here for their first time" The doctor said while preparing the machine.

You looked at the table to see the box again, you felt as if your heart was screaming at you to stop this. 

“So who are you forgetting? We need to know so that we can ask you after this procedure is done” The doctor asked.

“Someone named Satoru Gojo” You were hesitant at first but you answered anyway.

"Don't worry, we'll give you those final moments with your memories before they disappear" The doctor assured you.

"Are you ready?" The doctor asked and with a final sigh, you nodded.

You closed your eyes as soon as you felt the doctor put something on your head. That's where the process begins.

DELETION PROCESS

     1%

**

"Satoru?" You softly spoke when you noticed those white hair that stood among the crowds as he turned around and smiled before waving at you.

He rushed up towards you with a grin, patting your hair leaving you groaning since you just finished brushing your hair. "Stop it! I just brushed my hair!" You whined, slapping Satoru's hand away with a glare.

He only giggled, "You just looked too cute" Satoru then took your bag. "I'll carry this, is there any place you want to see?" He asked.

"Should we go get some coffee?" You suggested.

"Sure, make sure mine is caramel macchiato with extra caramel" He said with a smile. "You and your sweet tooth" You said with a laugh.

"Well I can't really live without sugar and of course you my honey bunch" He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to him. You smiled while hugging him back.

**

Tears stained your eyes as you started to see your final moments with your memories.

  DELETION PROCESS

     24%

**

"Happy Birthday!" You flinched when Satoru suddenly surprised you in your shared apartment. The feeling of tiredness and burnt out suddenly left, a smile crept up on your face.

"You didn't have to" You said, dropping your bag to the ground before heading to Satoru. "I have to, because it's your birthday baby," Satoru said, holding the cake near you with the candles being lit already.

"Make a wish" He said

When you first observe how the cake was made, you can see how messy the font was made. It already says that it was Satoru who made the cake. You gently close your eyes and begin making a wish.

Let us stay together, tomorrow as well

You blew the candle with ease, but this is satoru we're talking of course chaos is on his vocabulary. He dumped the cake into your face after he made sure to put out the candle to not hurt you. You stood there in shock before grabbing a handful of cake as you threw it into his face leaving you two a giggling mess. You were curious as to what the cake tasted like. 

“I didn’t even get to taste the cake” You said with a pout after Satoru came back with a tissue to clean your face. “Don’t worry, I made two cakes, that cake earlier is just for fun” He said while wiping your cheeks. “And look! I got you a gift!” He said placing the box that was wrapped well into your lap. 

You stared at the box suspiciously before you slowly unwrapped the present. Sooner, you found what was inside the box that left you gasping in surprise. It’s the stethoscope you’ve been wanting to get after beginning your doctor journey. You stared at him flabbergasted.

He only smiled more and spoke, “Happy Birthday baby”. Tears swell in your eyes before you throw yourself to Satoru, hugging him while thanking him endlessly. He hugged you back, placing small kisses to your head.

**

DELETION PROCESS

48%

**

“I told you to leave me alone!” You shouted, crying hysterically while continuing to run in the rain without any shoes because all you wanted was to run away from Satoru.

But the moment Satoru was able to catch you by grabbing your arm and pulling you into a hug, you cried heavily into his chest. He made sure to take his jacket off to wrap it around you to stop you from shaking in the cold. 

You two stood there by the rain, Satoru was there hushing and comforting you to calm down.

“Shhh, baby, I know how much it hurts but it’s time to move on” Satoru spoke to you, “Toru, I can’t fucking move on knowing my mom died” you said as you stared at him with your red eyes.

“I know, I know but would your mom be happy knowing how her daughter cried in the middle of the rain that will definitely be the cause of your sickness the next day?” Satoru asked that you quickly shake your head.

“See, besides I promised your mom that I will take care of you and I hate it so much when you cry like this” Satoru admitted, his hand gently caressing your cheek. 

“I love you so much that it hurts me too when I see you like this” Satoru spoke in his broken voice.

From that moment, you saw how the usual chaotic, noisy Satoru is gone and it was replaced by this brokenness and pain evident from his face.

“Please, let’s head inside, I don’t want you to get sick” Satoru begged, you slowly stopped crying as you nodded.

Satoru sighs in relief, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before holding you close as you two walk back to your shared apartment that night.

**

DELETION PROCESS

65%

**

“I told you to stay still!” You told Satoru as you giggled trying to stop him from wriggling much as you wanted to put the night cream on his face. 

“But my skin is already clean! I don't know why you wanted to add that to my gorgeous skin” Satoru said, lying down on his back as you tried to put skincare products on his face.

“Just do it for me please?” You begged with those puppy eyes that Satoru can't resist.

“Fine, but I better have my kisses after this!” Satoru demanded.

You smiled before leaning and placing a quick kiss on his lips, “that's all you're getting now” You said with a mischievous smirk.

Satoru only pouted while you continued painting his face with the skincare you were using.

After some time, you finished the night cream and grabbed one of your lip masks. Placing the mask on his lips, Satoru immediately took this chance and swallowed the lip mask only for him to choke.

“You got karma real quick” You said while laughing at him.

“That hurts my pride,” Satoru said while coughing.

“That's why I told you to stay still” You told him, grabbing another lip mask and placing it on his lips again. He stared at you, “Stay quiet for now” You told him with a smile as you took a book to read.

Satoru didn't do much so he closed his eyes to take a nap.

When you take a break from reading, you stare at Satoru with those loving eyes.

How lucky I am to get to be with you

 **

DELETION PROCESS 

78%

**

“What's your problem man?” Satoru spoke before punching the guy in the bar. 

You quickly jump into the scene as you try to stop Satoru, “Stop it! Satoru, we might get kicked out!” You frantically told him.

“I can't stop if he won't shut up about wanting to touch you!” Satoru shouted at you. You sigh as you apologize to the guy but it was too late, the both of you got kicked out of the bar.

“You need to learn how to control your temper, sometimes satoru” You annoyingly said.

“I just can't help it-” whatever satoru you always say that!” You snap at him.

Satoru only stood there, sighing as if he was tired.

“I’m tired, let's just go home” Satoru said but you weren't backing down.

“Oh no, no I’m most definitely tired Satoru! I have to deal with your ass whenever you get drunk!” You shouted in frustration as he was silent.

“I can't face you right now, you either stay with your family or friends for the night” You said as you quickly walked away, Satoru tried to stop you but you still left.

That's where the memory you wanted to rewind your actions as you didn't know this event will cause drastically to your relationship.

**

DELETION PROCESS

91%

The process moves slowly to all of the sweet times you had with gojo before it arrived, to how you two ended your relationship that you always had nightmares about it.

**

You stared completely shocked at what Satoru showed you.

a pregnancy test

Your eyes quickly moved to Satoru wanting him to explain everything.

Satoru only stared down, “I’m sorry, I got someone pregnant” he revealed that left you shaking.

W-what?

“Since when?” I asked, tears are already spilling from your eyes as your body went numb after consuming this information.

“The night we got into an argument after we got kicked out of the bar, I headed to another bar that time and-” Before Satoru could finish, you stopped him.

“You got some random girl pregnant?” You quickly cut him off. Your eyes looked at him to see if he at least felt guilty about what he did but…

There was none

“She’s not some random girl,” Satoru quickly defended.

“Oh, is that so?” You glared at him.

“Are you going to tell me that you fell out of love with me the moment she came into the picture? Is that it?” You angrily asked him.

Satoru only stared at you before nodding.

You sigh as you cover your face, it came too quickly.

“I’m sorry I couldn't keep my promise, I was just getting tired of the constant fighting we had and I think it's best for us to split,” Satoru spoke.

He didn't even show a slight guilt or sadness on his face.

Satoru only tried to hug you but you kept on punching his arm, once he did hug you your punch somehow got lessened only for you to cry loudly in his chest.

“I did love you, I didn't lie when I told you I loved you most of the time. I know I was a jerk for suddenly falling in love with someone but I can't help it” Satoru explained.

But no matter how many times he explained, he will never come back to you.

That day, Satoru left with all of his belongings leaving you alone in that shared apartment that was supposed to be your happy place.

You sat at the couch, staring at the wall trying to process everything, you looked at the picture frame that was from your graduation, and you can see how his eyes used to lighten up with you but now that eyes only looked at you with nothing.

You head to the bedroom and saw how clean it was, it felt so different to the one you’re used to.

You opened the closet to find your clothes only, but Satoru’s red scarf was there. Hands quickly grabbed them as you tried covering around your neck and just cried there.

Months later the news that Satoru and his girl got married, it was decided that you will remove him from your memories as soon as you see an advertisement that helps remove a certain person from your memory.

**

DELETION PROCESS

100%

The moment it hit one hundred, every memory with Satoru was soon replaced. 

The first anniversary gift he got was soon replaced by you hanging out with your friends as you got lucky to win a teddy bear in the claw machine.

Every time he always fetches you after your university was replaced with you walking alone.

Those sweet birthdays you had were replaced with your family celebrating it with you.

The night that you heard your mom died was replaced by your cousin comforting you instead of Satoru.

The bar memory you had was replaced with you fighting your friend for making you two kicked out of the bar.

The day when Satoru told you he got someone else pregnant? Was replaced with your best friend telling you she got pregnant.

Your eyes quickly opened as you looked around and touched your cheek wondering why you were crying. The doctor and nurse quickly went to your side and asked you if you were okay and were asking tons of questions about this person you don't even know.

You got out of the office feeling fresh and left the Brighter Days Inc not knowing the box you had was burned leaving nothing else, not even the scarf you used to comfort yourself after you and Satoru split.

You entirely forgot the person who you used to call your soulmate.

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu satoru #jjk angst #gojo angst #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #satoru gojo

[4ngel-inc]

࿔*:･ 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 ࿐

tags — fem reader, a little angsty but mostly fluff !! ᰔ

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 never wanted to let you go, he'd always believed you'd be together forever, but when he finally opened up and told you about his past—about his time in the mafia and everything that entailed—he thought he noticed a flicker of fear in your eyes, and it scared him. he simply couldn't handle the thought of being judged or abandoned later down the line for his past mistakes. it was selfish, really, the way the tears rolled down your cheeks solely from such an impulsive decision on his part. he regretted it immediately, but it was simply too late—he'd already broken your heart. for months, he contemplated how to get you back—flowers and apologies simply wouldn't be enough, he knew that. did he even deserve your love, after the heartache he'd put you through? he finally convinced you to grab coffee at your favorite cafe, and decided on a very simple approach, the one you deserved—spilling his heart out to you entirely. "i just want to be loved, i've never admitted it to anyone, and i've never loved anyone. i'm- uh, not sure what to do with my feelings." he looks sad, and it's the most serious you've ever seen him. after listening to him pour his heart out for a while, and overcoming a little hesitation, you decide to give him another chance. "we can try again, but please, let me see the real you this time, osamu," he waits for you to finish, "it wasn't fear in my eyes, it was love. i just can't bear the thought of you hurting, or of you being so lonely, but i'm here now, k?" you both smile, and share a sweet kiss.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 isn't the type to thrive off of instability—he likes safety, security in a relationship. he never wanted the type of relationship that was on and off again, it was childish in his eyes, and not something he found appealing. and so the first time you two had decided to take a break, he told himself it was the last time—he was done with the relationship, and brushed it off as a passing fling, since you two were only together less than a year. however, he begins to understand why he trusted you in the first place as time goes on and your absence starts to sink in—you made him feel different than the rest, made him feel like a different person. there was something in the way you touched him that made him feel worthy, like love wasn't a rarity or a foreign concept, but simply a part of his everyday life. and now, that feeling is gone. chuuya is quite stubborn, so it takes him a while to realize how much he truly misses you, but when it finally sinks in one night, as he aerates an expensive red wine in his glass he's sure you'd scold him for drinking so late at night, he decides enough is enough. it doesn't take long for him to show up at your door, and he's quite frank when he arrives—as soon as you open the door, he sighs, "no relationship is perfect, i'm sorry i gave up on ours, it was a stupid fight. can we try again, doll? i miss you, a lot actually." needless to say, you give in.

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 wasn't expecting you two to break up at all, but you just couldn't handle the pain of watching him come home bruised and bloodied every night. even more than that, you couldn't understand why he wanted to continue working for the mafia anyways, especially when they were clearly just using him—you butted heads about it a lot, and eventually you decided to leave, akutagawa coming home to an empty apartment one day. you'd warned him you were leaving a few days before, but that didn't lessen the hurt he felt the first time he had to sleep alone. even now, weeks later, as he showers and climbs into bed, he doesn't feel the same as he did before he met you. is he changing? he feels softer, more vulnerable, he feels like crying—he hates to admit it. however, you are the one who decides to come back to him, realizing you'd made a mistake. you knock on his front door one night as he's getting ready for bed, and though he answers with an inquisitive look in his eyes, he lets you in. "what are you doing here?" he asks. you sigh, "don't sound so happy to see me." he isn't sure how open he should be with his feelings, you'll likely just hurt him again. "should i be happy? you won't stay, anyways." you approach him hesitantly, "i was wrong about us, about you—the mafia is the life you know, and loving someone means accepting all of them. if you'll give me another chance, ryūnosuke," you pause before continuing again, "i'd like to show you how much i love you this time, i don't want to be scared anymore." it isn't difficult for him to give in, and you stay the night, and all of the nights after.

𝐅𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 never pictured himself in a serious relationship, so when he does find himself settling into one, it makes him a bit nervous. he isn't used to anything, or anyone, uprooting his life or shaking things up—other than work. so, he's a bit more critical of relationships than he might be otherwise. after your first petty argument, one that only happened months into your relationship, he convinces himself that maybe, the two of you just aren't quite a good fit. he lets you down easy, "dear, i'm worried maybe we've rushed into this a bit. i'd like to take a step back, for the time being." needless to say, it hurts, a lot. but you decide to respect his wishes and give him his space, and you find you're starting to enjoy being single again. moving on from fukuzawa isn't easy—he's the man of your dreams—but after convincing yourself you simply aren't the one he wants anymore, you begin to heal, and see the sun shine through the clouds a bit. however, fukuzawa only grows lonelier as the days go on. it's the silence of his home when he returns late at night, the way he craves the sweets you'd make him, the way he reads his books without you by his side, and the way he takes his walks without your hand there to hold, that make him realize life with you was always better than life alone. fukuzawa is a stern man, but not when it comes to this—he calls you and calmly asks to talk, and after humbly asking for another chance, it's easy to give him one. he's ready to love you with no inhibitions this time—you deserve the best of him, after all, and he'll gladly give it to you.

#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊ #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fukuzawa x reader #akutagawa x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #bsd headcanons #fukuzawa fluff #akutagawa fluff #bungo stray dogs x reader

[thatfreshi]

Could I request an Astarion/GN!reader(Tav) where reader has trauma around their throat being touched and stuff but bears through the panic attacks just so Astarion can feed and Astarion only finds out after they make camp and confronts reader/Tav about their mental breakdown after a battle they had prior in the day?(reader got grabbed forcefully by the neck?) Essentially a bit of angst and comfort?

Set in act 2!!

TW - choking, panic attack, disordered eating behaviors

Recommended Song: Don't Invest In Me - Adam Melchor

Battle is horrifying, something Astarion never truly quite realized until he fell in love you with. He's talented, especially at killing people. He's never had to worry in a fight, because it was always just him. Now he has to worry about you, and it's painful, not being able to be by your side constantly, watching you in perilous situations, looking death right in the eye. When your group ran into a few violent adventurers yesterday, you weren't expecting any trouble. Suddenly, metal clashing, magic moving through the trees. Astarion moved quickly, offing one of the offenders almost immediately. When he turned to see who was next, bloodlust in his eyes, he saw you being held by the throat. You were frozen, running out of oxygen, tears welling at your eyes. He ran through the trees, running his blade through your captor's back.

"Tav? My dear, are you alright?"

You can't speak, utterly shocked. No one had ever tried to choke you in the throes of battle, and it reminded you of awful things, things that were better left unsaid. He checks you for any other wounds as you're trapped in your own mind. The fighting continues, but he doesn't care. All that matters is you, the others can handle themselves just fine. And if not, that's their loss, not his.

After thoroughly checking you over, he can't find anything else of concern. The bruising on your neck though, it's black and blue already. Racing thoughts, wondering if there's been any lasting damage. He can't decide if he should be more concerned about the fact that you're practically frozen in place or if your windpipe is destroyed.

"The fuck are you doing? We have shit to deal with!"

Karlach silences her complaints when she sees you lying on the ground. Astarion doesn't even look up at her, afraid. He's only ever truly had one thing, one thing that was his, and that's you. Everything else feels so impermanent, but you? You're constant.

"Astarion! Astarion!"

She yells out his name until he finally snaps back to look at your tiefling friend.

"Take Tav back to camp, we've got it covered."

Karlach then runs off, back to assist Wyll with a shadow-covered half-elf. You groan in pain, your neck on fire. As you start to come back to reality, you realize you're in the vampire's arms, a vampire currently moving through the dark as quickly as possible. Neither of you have lights on you, but he knows there are still torches lit at camp, he just has to get there before the shadow curse starts to take hold. You're light-headed, both from lack of oxygen and the panic attack.

"Where...?"

"Hush darling, it's alright. We're almost there, almost to camp."

Through a couple more feet of trees, the two of you make it, bathing in the warm light of the torches posted behind the brush. He takes you back to your tent, where your bedrolls lie side by side. He silently curses himself for not knowing any healing magic, promising himself he'll finally learn after this.

"Aster?"

You call out groggily.

"Yes my love, I'm right here."

Ceasing the nervous pacing, he sits by your side.

"What... what happened?"

He almost doesn't want to say, worried about how you reacted while it was happening.

"One of the shadow-cursed, they... they had you in a nasty chokehold, and I killed them."

You shift, wishing he didn't have to know about all of this.

"Sorry."

"About what darling? You've done nothing wrong."

"About not telling you- not telling you about it."

You're gasping to get your words out, your throat clearly damaged. He furrows his brow in concerned confusion.

"I- I really don't like people touching my neck, doing anything to it to be honest. Wasn't expecting one of them to grab me like that."

Coughing at the end of your sentence, you don't see Astarion's eyes travel through his thoughts, realizing what that means.

"Darling... you let me feed off of you almost every evening."

You smile a little.

"I know."

He grabs one of your hands, clasping it in both of his.

"I'll never do it again. I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

Frantic, worried he's done something irreversibly wrong.

"No, no Aster it's okay. Does it suck sometimes? Yeah, but I need you to be healthy. Besides, what's a better way to work through your trauma than exposure therapy?"

"That's not fair. I can find something else, some other way."

"And what, go back to forest animals? You know there's nothing for you out here, in the darkness."

"Then I'll simply starve! Done it before, I'll do it again."

Gods, he's stubborn. You don't blame him, he would never want to cross anyone's boundaries after his have been trampled a million times.

"My love, come here."

You reach out, beckoning to pull him down beside you.

"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't. You need to feed, and I can provide that. You do plenty for me, let me do this one thing for you."

"But, but you hate it."

"Yeah. Those two things can coexist, my hate for people touching my neck, and my love for you. I can put up with the anxiety if it means you're okay."

"I would be okay though."

You cup his face in your hand, making sure he's looking at you.

"I'm telling you I'm okay, and that you deserve more than rats. Okay?"

You've been around him long enough, you know his logic. If he survived for two hundred years living off of flies and rats, he certainly doesn't need blood like yours. If he had starved for an entire year, he could take a few months before getting to Baldur's Gate. Sometimes you have to remind him that survival mode isn't living, that he's allowed to have nice things. Tears fall from his eyes.

"Are you sure my sweet? Absolutely certain?"

"Of course, and if I ever needed you to stop I would tell you, promise."

You put your pinky out, and he stares at it.

"What... what are you doing? Is this you offering me to feed off a singular finger? Because if so, that's uh-"

"No, gods! It's a pinky promise."

"A... a what?"

You start laughing, so hard that you start coughing again, tears falling down your face.

"You've never heard of a pinky promise?"

It pulls at your heart a little, realizing he probably never had anyone teach him.

"I guess I haven't."

You put your pinky out, and he does the same, and then you hook yours, interlacing the small finger with his.

"There, I pinky promise that I'll tell you if you need to stop feeding on me."

As you pull your hand away, he looks confused.

"And that's what, some non-verbal contract?"

"I guess so Mr. Magistrate."

You start laughing again.

"Okay, you have thoroughly scared me, and made me cry, and teased me, in one night! I'm not sure how much more I can take."

There's a hint of humor in his tone. Honestly, he also thinks it's ridiculous that he was a magistrate, considering he was terrible at it, at least from the small things he remembers.

"Well, it's over now. I'm okay, and we're safe."

He narrows his eyes.

"I'm still going to have Shadowheart look over you when the rest return."

"Well, that's your fault for not learning healing magic."

"Okay, you don't know any magic, so I don't want to hear it!"

The two of you stay up for hours, laughing at stupid jokes, hysterical from the tragedy that evening. Sometimes after something horrible, you just need a good laugh, especially with your easily provoked lover.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff #comfort #angst

[bloomries]

slumber is such a sweet embrace

includes : the dateables (diavolo, barbatos, simeon, and solomon).

summary : falling asleep on him, and he is unable to wake you up.

warnings : sfw content. gn! reader. reader is being carried in both simeon's & barbatos'.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── diavolo

"Thank you for inviting me!" You chirp as you take your seat next to Diavolo. Truth be told you're fighting back the urge to yawn and pass out, having studied for an outrageous amount of time. When did the seats in the palace become so plush and comfortable? They're like sitting on a cloud!

Your eyelids grow heavier with each passing second, but you do your best to stay awake— after all, Diavolo invited you over for some tea and cake! He seen how hard you were working and wanted to help you relax, and well, it's certainly working!

"How have you been doing? I was told you've been studying hard lately!" He smiles, reaching for a cookie and eating it in one bite. You hum, nodding.

"Yes, I wanted to make you," You yawn, head lulling to the side. "To make you proud," You mumble, eyelids unable to open and consciousness slipping away from you. You head lands on Diavolo's shoulder and he tenses for but a moment before calming down.

He's quite shocked, honestly. Had you been avoiding sleep in order to study? He's torn between scolding you for your lack of self care and praising you for your hard work. Looking down at your peaceful sleeping expression, he can't help but blush- you're just too precious!

Diavolo is about to wake you when, from the corner of his eye, he sees Barbatos subtly shaking his head. Ah, should he let you rest then? Diavolo chuckles to himself. What a predicament you've gotten him in.

"You've worked so hard, my little human." He whispers, and deciding to indulge in himself since you two are alone, he lets his head rest upon yours and closes his own eyes. "Rest well."

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── barbatos

You thought that once you started dating Barbatos you'd see each other more, but it's been the same more or less due to his working schedule. Still, you always try your hardest to stay awake until he comes back— of course, you also always fail in this endeavor and are asleep by the time he returns.

Today though, you were determined! You stayed up, even trying some caffeinated drinks to help! You watch as the clock ticks away, despite the television show playing. He should return soon, you think, as you glance at the door. But your chest is growing warm with sleep and your eyelids heavy.

The door opens, and sudden burst of energy shoots through you as you bounce to the door. "Barbatos!" You grin, and his heart stutters in his chest. "Welcome... home..." You mumble sleepily, falling against him to hug him, although being in his cool embrace sends you into an instant sleep.

"Huh? Oh my," Barbatos' grip on you tightens a bit, not wanting you to fall. Swiftly as he can, he picks you up. "If you're tired, you really should just go to bed," He tsks, although he presses a kiss to your temple. He carries you to bed, setting you down gently. He can't bear to wake you up, although he knows you'll scold him for not doing so in the morning.

"I'll try to return earlier," He whispers, more to himself than to your sleeping form. "I've been missing you as well."

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── simeon

"Thanks Simeon," You respond bashfully, hoping he can't feel how hot your cheeks are. Spraining your ankle, Simeon quickly offered to carry you back home. Now on his back, you clutch on to him as he walks you back home.

Sighing, you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. He was surprisingly warm, and comfortable. Your mind slowly slips into a tranquil place of unconsciousness, and Simeon only realizes this when he hears soft snores coming from you.

Oh? Had you fallen asleep on him? Simeon had no problem with it until he arrived at the House of Lamentation, when he realized couldn't wake you up. You definitely needed some sleep! However, he now had to face the grand staircase. Careful as to not to disturb you nor his balance, he climbed his way up the steps with you still peacefully drooling on his back.

Finally make it up the steps, he lets out a breath of relief. You didn't wake! He carries you the rest of the way your room, but he now fears that moving you around would wake you up! He can't have that, so he just sort of goes from jogging in place to slowly moving around your room until you wake up.

Stirring, you lift your head to see you're in your room- and still on Simeon's back!?

"W- When did we get back?"

Too embarrassed to admit it's been an hour or two, Simeon tells you you two just got back a second ago. "We just got here, so please don't worry about me!" He assures, waving off your worry. Yes, it'd be best for you to not know.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ─── solomon

"And then I add this?" You say, but don't wait for an answer as you add an ingredient into the potion. A plume of smoke poofs out of the cauldron and you're seeing stars as you pass out. Mixing up ingredients, you made a sleep potion! And the second your head hits Solomon's lap, all he can do is shake his head in disappointment. Were you even paying attention to what he said?

Oh well, he can't stay mad when you look this adorable. Taking out his DDD, he snaps a few pictures of your cute sleeping expression. Chuckling to himself, he glances down at you.

He should really wake you up, you still have some potions to make, but he can't seem to bring himself to wake you! He sighs, brushing some hair out of the way from your face. "Whatever will I do with you, hm?"

It's not long before Solomon gets an evil idea to send the pictures to the brothers, bragging about how you felt so safe as to fall asleep on him and that he gets to witness this adorableness in person!

When you wake up, it's to a million texts calling you a 'traitor' and asking 'how could you possibly trust that moron!?' and other variations. Still with your head rested on Solomon's lap, you turn to look up at him with furrowed brows.

"What happened?" You asked, and Solomon hums as he looks away from you, smug.

"Yes, I wonder."

꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

#obey me x reader #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #om x reader #om imagines #om headcanons #om fluff #omswd x reader #omswd imagines #omswd headcanons #omswd fluff #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader

[sourbinnie]

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> maknae line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

hyung line

a/n: here's the maknae line version! we'll see if i can write a second part but i'm debating where i should double down on the sadness or make them have a happy ending

jisung ✉

you didn't know what shocked you more, his calm nature in argument isn't something odd but he never let it get out of hand. today he did unfortunately and it started a screaming match in your shared apartment about god knows what. like a competition to see who could hurt the other worse and guess who won? yeah not you, you won the tears that couldn't stop streaming as you remembered.

"fuck (y/n) were you always this bad? they didn't make my life this difficult." and if you were making his life so difficult then you were gonna walk out of the scene of the crime. "no, i didn't mean that. i don't know what came over me, it was just the heat of the moment. please don't fucking leave-."

"so you can keep on screaming at me? yeah no thanks, i'm going." it wasn't even the screaming that got to you, jisung could be loud and you never cared. but it felt like poison the fact that he compared you to someone he himself broke up with. "just stay away from me jisung, i can't even look at you right now."

"don't say that. i know i fucked up but i can fix it, i promise i can fix it!" he insisted but you couldn't believe a single word coming out of his mouth as you grabbed your things to leave. "baby please, i know it wasn't okay but i can't bear seeing you like this, at least promise me you'll come back?"

"i'm gonna be honest. i don't know if i will." you said and the last thing you remembered was the sadness on his face turning into pure horror and fear that you were gonna leave him forever. you couldn't even make a decision right now as you had so much in your own mind that it was getting worse & worse. as much as you loved jisung, people say things because they truly mean them right? and maybe you two were not meant for each other as you thought you were.

felix ✉

getting ignored by felix meant something was wrong and that you were in deep trouble. it got you thinking about your previous fights with him and how you handled them. you usually talked things out and told each other what you felt when he got like this but right now it seemed impossible as he dodged you every time you got close to him even though he was the one who invited you a few days ago to the dorms tonight. the tension could be caught with a knife and all the boys felt it so most of them decided to leave before it got bad except chan who looked at you two carefully and tried to figure out what was going on.

"lix can you talk to me? i don't know what's going on or why you're so distant but i would like to work things out." you said as you got close to him and sat down but he just pretended like you weren't there. it felt so weird to be so distant with the person you love the most and it deeply hurt but nothing scarred like what he said.

"can't you get a hint? i don't wanna be near you right now. god i don't know why i broke up with them, they're not awfully clingy like you are." he muttered as he tried to walk away but i guess it hit him what he said and turned around to look at me. i couldn't even cry, i was just going through my mind trying to handle everything he said at once and figuring out that i should probably leave. "baby no i'm sorry, please at least stay here so you don't have to walk in the middle of the night."

"there's no way i'm staying close to you today." even if it hurt him, nothing was gonna be as bad as what he said to me and he would have to deal with that. "please let me go felix."

"felix, i'll walk them home and we'll talk when i get back." chan said and i could see the hesitation on felix's eyes but he eventually did let go of my wrist and i could finally leave. i couldn't help the tears that were flowing as i got out of the building and tried not to make a fool of myself in front of chan but he was like an older brother to me so as soon as he offered me a hug, i gave in and let go.

seungmin ✉

you weren't sure how to handle things with seungmin when he got in a bad mood. it's like you two didn't even know where to begin discussing the things that made you both upset and talking it out like normal people. it always led to a fight about who’s right and who's wrong and not about how you two exactly felt. it also led to him using some insecurities against you this time which you were not having it. 

"listen (y/n) i don't know what you want from me but i'm done arguing." he said and you sighed, you were glad that everything was finally over between the two of you. "if i knew it was gonna lead to this, i would've stayed with them and never asked you out."

felt like a cold bucket of water dropped on you and it made you want to leave immediately but you froze. trying to process if it was real that your seungmin felt that way about you and your relationship, meaningless like it was nothing at all. it took all the strength left in you to get up and head to your shared bedroom to lock the door and not say anything else. as soon as realization hit him and what he said, he was on the other side knocking.

"i'm sorry i don't know what came over me. i promise i'll be better, please let me see you? i can't stand the fact that you're alone and suffering right now." he said but the sobs were uncontrollable and choking up on tears was so disheartening. "baby please, i won't leave this side until we talk it out. (y/n) i love you..."

"i love you too but please leave me alone for now will you?" you said even if all you wanted was a hug right now, you weren't sure you wanted one from someone who felt that way towards you. you could hear the footsteps getting further and further as you held onto your knees tight and buried your head, trying to make the tears stop.

jeongin ✉

it felt so weird to argue with jeongin. it was one of his first relationships and he still didn't know how to express himself without hurting you and sometimes he didn't know how to handle the tears that came after the hurtful words. he felt like crying himself most of the time he saw you cry and it wasn't easy to calm each other down if both of you were in a bad state emotionally. this time he did let the anger get the best of him and he dived right into the meaningless words that you would hear in a fight, well they were meaningless to him but to you? not so much.

"jesus fucking christ (y/n). i don't know what you want from me anymore, you're making such a fuss and i know they would never do this shit. i don't know why i'm with you." it was too late to regret anything as he looked at you, with shock in his eyes that he even muttered that. 

"if you feel that way then i should get going." you said as you bit your lip and tried to hold back from the break down that you were about to have. "i don't know what i expected but for you to talk to me that way? i didn't see it coming."

"(y/n) love, i'm so fucking sorry. please don't leave me." he said and yes the tears were flowing from his eyes and yes you did feel horrible about it seeing him like this. but it was his fault and to grow from it he would have to deal with hurting you as you walked in the direction of the front door and he chased after you. "please, i'll do anything but please don't go."

"if you wanna do something then understand i need some time away from you right now. goodbye jeongin, we'll talk later." you said and closed the door before he could follow you. a sigh and a tear came out of your body as you looked up and hoped that you two could mend things but it was all up to you at this point. and it hurt to know that he felt in a way you would've never even dream of feeling.

#sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz reactions #skz reaction #stray kids x reader #skz drabbles #skz x reader #skz angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids angst #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction #thg

[wileys-russo]

I keep noticing Leah wearing this rly full cross body bag to all the games so far and I’ve just thought how does a girl need so much stuff with her to watch the game?! Maybe a fic where Leah’s gf questions her about the cross body bag, she gets all shy and it turns out she’s carrying something of her gfs (lucky item, fav t shirt etc) to bring luck for the game. Kinda cute x

this is adorable lucky charms II l.williamson

"babe you'll miss the bus if we don't leave now!" your girlfriend called up the stairs, tapping her foot impatiently. "i can't find my lucky socks!" you called back with a groan, practically destroying your shared bedroom as you hunted around for them with no luck.

"just grab another pair love, this happened last week too!" leah sighed, fiddling with her bag as she again checked the time on her watch. "shift it, we're leaving!" leah decided, knowing if she waited around any longer your anxiety would only worsen.

"yeah and look how last week went." you huffed in annoyance, kit bag slung over your shoulder as you thundered downstairs with a frown. "hey, stop." leah grabbed your hands, pressing your body gently against the wall as she looked into your eyes.

"you've never been a superstitious person before, where's all this come from then?" the blonde asked, concerned at these new behaviours which had arisen within you since the commencement of the new season.

"it's nothing, i'm fine lee. lets just go!" you forced a smile, squeezing her shoulders and moving past her, leah grabbing her car keys and following after you, deciding to table the conversation for later not wanting to rattle you any further.

"i really don't see why you're driving me to colney, then back here, then to the emirates. i could have gotten one of the girls to pick me up or driven myself." you shook your head as your girlfriend pulled out of the driveway.

"because i've missed driving you round, do you know how nice it is to not be stuck with you as a personal chauffeur?" leah teased with a smirk as you smacked her leg, hand resting on her thigh as she drove. "watch it williamson." you warned playfully, though it brought leah comfort to see a smile finally settle back on your face.

~

it was a smile that returned and doubled by the time the final whistle blew to end injury time, you and your girls fighting and scraping for a well deserved three points.

letting out a passionate yell you all but barreled into stina who was the closest person to you, the swede picking you up and swinging you round as a few of your team mates pressed in, all of you hugging and cheering.

"meadoooo!" you hollered, almost tackling the blonde who laughed, tears welling up in her eyes as she hugged you tightly and you mumbled over and over how proud of her you were before she was pulled away to continue the celebrations.

"lessi!" you screamed at your long time friend who was looking around in shock, giant smile plastered on your face as you sprinted at her, jumping into her waiting arms and kissing her forehead, rambling on about how well she played.

"the first goal of many." you promised as she put you back down on your feet.

"hear that? they wanna see ya russo!" katie grinned, joining the two of you and shoving the blonde over to where the fans were chanting for her, her cheeks bright red as her grin only grew. the three of you did your lap, clapping and thanking the fans and chatting among yourselves as jen, steph and caitlin eventually joined you.

you watched as leah embraced your national team mates in bear hugs, watching her mouth move a million miles an hour as she proudly commended everything they fought for the last 100+ minutes.

she caught your eye over alessia's shoulder, giving her one last hug before breaking away as you both started to walk toward each other. meeting in the middle her arms wrapped around you tightly, your face buried in her jacket as her lips lingered on your forehead.

"see? no socks, no problems. i'm so proud of you! didn't stop even for a second." leah breathed out as the two of you hugged tightly, both wishing you could kiss but very hyper aware of the millions of eyes watching.

"i'm sorry for being so fixated on that this morning." you apologized with a small sigh. "so where has all this come from love?" leah asked with a concerned frown, holding you at arms length.

"it's nothing, it's silly." you tried to dismiss it again as leah tightened her grip on you, giving you a knowing look. "i just-" you started, shaking your head. "can we please talk about it later?" you asked with a look around as leah nodded, quickly pulling you into another hug.

"babe what is in this?" you laughed as her bag dug into her hip, leah quickly flinging it over her back with a shake of her head. "nothing." she smiled but you caught the slight blush on her cheeks and gave her a look.

"how do you need that much stuff to watch a game? you bring it with you each week actually! what is so important?" you pushed, leaning around trying to grab the bag as leah shook her head and held you off.

"i'll show you later. team talk time!" she dismissed you with a charming smile, slinging an arm over your shoulder and walking you over to where your team had all begun to huddle together in a circle.

~

"so i was freaking out about the socks because i never had anything consistent last season and there was just...just so much that went wrong and was out of my control." you started, leah looking up from where she was doing the dishes as you appeared, drying her hands and moving to stand in front of you.

"so i thought that maybe if i had some things i was in control of it might, well it might bring us better luck. but i can't even do that right!" you sighed in frustration, head coming to rest on leahs shoulders as she wrapped you up in her arms.

"see, it's silly." you mumbled into her hoodie. "no it's not silly baby, it makes sense. last season was...well, it happened." she sighed in agreement as the two of you swayed for a moment of comfortable silence, wrapped in each others loving embrace.

"i have to show you something." leah let go, moving past you as you followed her into the hallway, the girl grabbing her bag where it hung up with her jacket from today. "i finally get to see whats in this infamous bag." you gasped happily, clapping as leah playfully rolled her eyes and the two of you sat down.

"well similarly to you i was wanting a way to bring us some better luck, even just from the sidelines until i can be back on the pitch and do my bit properly." leah started as you nodded for her to continue.

"so..." leah trailed off, unzipping her bag and starting to unpack what was in it as your mouth opened a little in shock. "i take these to every game now, and i make sure to sit with them when i watch from home." leah admitted, cheeks blushing rosy pink as she finished.

laid out in between the two of you were what a normal person would deem as just an assortment of very random items, but only you and leah knew the real special meaning behind each one.

there was several very faded movie tickets, you couldn't quite make out what movies they were from but when leah had found out you adored the cinema she'd vowed to take you once a week when the two of you first started seeing one another.

there was several cloth wristbands of differing colors, from the multitude of concerts you'd both been to together. accompanied by your favourite coldplay tour t-shirt leah had bought you when you'd seen them live together on your first anniversary.

there was a key ring from the arsenal foundation that leah had brought you back when she'd traveled around with them after the world cup, as well as the beaded bracelet that she'd made you when she was over in jordan.

there were three medals to finish up the small collection, both yours and leahs euro medals as well as your second place medal from the world cup. and of course, last but not least were your lucky socks and leahs own pair of lucky socks, bundled up together in pairs.

"oh leah..." you trailed off softly, tenderly touching the items as memories flooded your mind and your lips curled into a smile, giving her a look of adoration.

"so thats what i always have with me baby, all my lucky charms."

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

[starrystevie]

it's 2004 when steve finds himself back in hawkins for the first time since he moved away for good. he has a master's degree under his belt, a mortgage on a house outside of st. louis with a dog and picket fence, and a rockstar that wormed his way into his heart next to him in bed every night. he's closer to 50 than he is to 20 and life feels good, life feels settled, figured out in a way he never thought he'd get to see.

"you gonna tell me why you're shakin' like a leaf?"

but sitting across from wayne munson and his sharp gaze is enough to make him feel like a teenager again.

steve takes a sip from his glass of water before setting it down on the end table next to him and watches the way wayne's finger taps against the side of his coffee cup. it's like he's keeping rhythm with something that steve can't hear, like a drum beat in his head that proves that he's the reason eddie has musical talent.

"i'm fine," he responds back to wayne, a stilted smile crossing his face. wayne's gaze deepens like he he doesn't believe him. "i'm fine!"

there's a clock ticking somewhere in the living room and the faucet in the kitchen is dripping quietly and it makes the silence that falls between them even more deafening. steve takes in a deep breath and nods absently as he rubs his palms over his denim clad knees.

"is he in trouble?" wayne asks in a gruff voice, low and to the point. steve shakes his head immediately, stutters out something that sounds like no, and wayne looks at him with his eyebrows pinched together. "are you in trouble?"

"no, it's not-" steve stands up and paces out some of his nerves, hands shoved into his pockets so that he stops waving them around. he sighs and looks back at wayne. "it's nothing bad."

"if it ain't bad, then just say it."

steve groans and runs his hands through his hair. it's harder to do this than he thought it would be, quite possibly the hardest thing he's done in years and that's including having to admit to eddie that he does indeed like the stupid beard he grew as a dare from jeff. wayne is still staring at him with a determined look, like he won't let steve get away with any of his usual charming bullshit, and looks so much like eddie that it makes something in his heart explode.

"fine! i'm asking eddie to marry me and i need your permission or something. happy old man?" he finally says, or well, shouts. it's too loud in the quiet house and he can see wayne wince from the decibel he reaches but it's out. it's off his chest and he's finally said it.

and wayne is smiling.

seeing him smile is strange, not because he doesn't look good with a smile, but because it's not often that steve gets to bear witness to it. it starts off slow, clipped at the edges before it spreads to his cheeks and crinkles his eyes. steve's breathing hard when wayne stands up and wraps his hands around the tops of his shoulders. he can feel himself shaking under wayne's grip and from this close, he can see the tears that he knows wayne is fighting against.

"it's about damn time, boy. took you two long enough to pull your heads outta your backsides."

getting hugged by wayne is almost weirder than seeing him smile. it's short, to the point, with pats on backs and chuckles that break loose from steve's too tight chest. part of him wishes eddie were here to let him be a part of the moment, but it would ruin the surprise he's so carefully planned, so he revels in the rare time between just the two of them.

"had to wait for somewhere to allow it first, wayne," steve mutters as they pull apart and he feels hope unfurl somewhere within him when he says it.

"well, alright, i guess you're off that hook then. but y'know," wayne's sitting back down in his arm chair and steve does the same, matching grins plastered on their faces. "you don't need my permission. that boy is crazy over you and if you think you ain't a part of this family already, then you're crazier than he is."

steve looks around at the pictures on the shelf behind wayne's head. sees young eddie and wayne with arms around each other, sees a makeshift graduation picture, an out of focus one of the two of them outside their house in missouri, one of all three of them around the chritmas tree in '99 when they had wayne come down to see them, and he thinks, yeah. they're already a family. at least now it'll be paper official.

#don't ask i just wanted to write about wayne okay #bee try to not write wayne as if he is uncle bobby from spn challenge failed #steddie #steddie headcanon #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #wayne munson the man that we have made you........ #this is long but i didn't want to ruin the flow with a read more so pls forgive me #crush the idea that a man has to ask permission to marry u but steve absolutely still would because he thinks it's what a gentleman does

[iamasaddie]

a hungry dog on a very short leash

paring: dark!bfd!Joel x f!Reader rating: explicit (18+ minors DNI) word count: 4k~ summary: one time you decide to cheat on your boyfriend is obviously the time his dad catches you a/n: I don't know how and why this happened, but I feel like this might turn into a series if it gets enough love! Special thanks to my beta for this work @multiversed-daydreamer &lt;;3 warnings: dead dove do not eat; dub-con; no-outbreak; PWP (for real, no plot at all); manipulation; infidelity; explicit sexual content; oral sex (m receiving); degradation/praise; unsafe PinV; face slapping (barely); dirty talk; mention of anal; pain kink; no use of y/n MY MASTERLIST PART TWO ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪʀʟ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴜᴍᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴇɴꜱᴜᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

You wished you had a better excuse for yourself when a towering figure of your boyfriend's dad tapped you on the shoulder, taking you away from the embrace of some cute stranger whose tongue was halfway kissing your glands, but you didn't. When you saw the furrowed brow of your might-be father-in-law the only thing on your tongue was a sticky 'oh fuck'.

You jumped up from the boy's lap so fast your head went dizzy and the man in front of you grabbed you by the shoulder to keep you steady.

"Mr. Miller," you stuttered, "it's not -"

"Please, don't insult me by saying it's not what I think it is."

No, it was exactly what he thought it was. You, his son's girlfriend, having fun with a guy who most definitely was not his son. The reason was not that important, not to him, at least.

You wanted to start explaining right away, how you've had a rough patch, how you seemed to only fight, how every fucking thing he did begin to drive you insane. How you couldn't even fuck him without getting irritated. How you just wanted… And that was where you were stuck. You had no fucking idea what you wanted. You had no idea what to tell Jason's pleading eyes when he asked you what should he do to make you happy. The only answer you had was 'don't be you', but it was too cruel to say out loud. So you decided to find out what it was you were looking for and somehow it made you end up where you were. In a shady club on the outskirts of town, where the music was too loud and the drinks too watered down, with your boyfriend's dad staring at you disapprovingly.

The stream of excuses and almost spilled tears flow out of you and the next thing you know is you're being enveloped in a bear hug, large hands swiping up and down your back in an comforting motion.

"I know, baby, I know." Joel's voice was deep in your ears, his usual green flannel was soft as you fisted the material on his sides, still shaking. "But I have to tell him, you know that, right?"

You shook your head, face still pressed into his broad chest, begging him against it, telling him you'd fix everything, you'd tell him yourself. You didn't even know why you cared that much, you were close to breaking your two-year relationship yourself, but the thought of Joel telling him mortified you. He let you go, studying your face and swiping a tear that escaped your eye.

"Let's go somewhere more quiet to talk, okay?"

You nodded in agreement and let him lead you to the area with private rooms. The space looked vulgar: there was no way the brown leather couch was clean, but you couldn't see it under the glitching red lights. The music filling the place was quieter and definitely was not meant to be danced to. You sat on the couch when he patted a place next to him.

"Now, I know Jason's a bit... immature when it comes to life, all of its' aspects. And I know that a girl like you must have desires, needs my son can't meet." His face looked different in red, you didn't want to see it, but it almost seemed demonic.

You hurried to oppose him.

"He's - -"

Joel raised his hand not letting you continue. "But if only you came to me, sugar, I wouldn't have the need to tell him, y'know? Since I know you're being safe and ain't gonna give my boy anything, ain't gonna break his heart, when it's just physical... It wouldn't hurt him. But when you go around the bars like that," he vaguely motioned on a tight silver dress hugging your body like a second skin, "whoring yourself out - -"

"I - - " You tried again, ignoring his bluntness and an endearment lost between condescending words, he huffed, and it sounded irritated.

"I didn't ask, sweetheart, I just call it how I see it. Let's make it a mutually pleasurable experience, hm? I'll help you way more, of course, but you can just owe me a thanks."

At that moment, when your head welcomed the gravity in a form of a nod, you couldn't explain to yourself why you cared about Jason so much that you were ready for any perverted thing his dad would demand. Was it even about Jason?

"Good girl. Come 'ere, darlin’"

You shuffled closer, your thighs flush against each other, but Joel tsk’d and in a flash of light his massive hand enveloped your thighs, pulling you on top of him to straddle his lap. You squeaked and he lightly slapped your thighs, rough palms creeping further and sliding up your already bunched up dress, fully exposing your legs and neon pink thongs.

"This thing here," he swiped his finger along the band of your panties, barely touching what was hidden with them. "It is like a neon sign 'fuck me, please'. Not a thing you'd wear if you weren't planning on having sex tonight, is it?"

You shook your head, not knowing if you're agreeing with him or the opposite.

"It's okay, baby," he took his right hand from your thigh and brought your face close to his by the chin. His left hand kept on your waist, thumb pressing a bit lower than your belly button. "I understand." His whisper was hot on your lips and when you once again opened your mouth to explain, or say sorry or anything, he used the moment to dive into you, crashing your mouths together. His beard prickled your chin and his lips were anything but gentle. Molding you to fit him, biting your lower lip so you would open your mouth further and let him inside, which you did. You hoped to taste alcohol - preferably a lot of it - on his tongue, something that would give a better explanation to what was happening, but the best you could find on his tongue was a hint of beer and cigarettes.

His hands slowly mapped your body, meeting around your neck. You were hot, your brain was melting from the lack of oxygen and the terrifying knowledge that Joel Miller was an excellent kisser and your body recognized it against all morals.

His tongue caressed you just right, teeth biting your soft flesh a bit too rough, but instead of pained, the moan that erupted from you was satisfied.

"Are you enjoying this, baby?" He looked amused, his eyes blinking with perverted pleasure. You were silent, your unsteady breathing betraying you. He lifted his hips a little, his clothed bulge hitting the wet spot on your panties roughly. "Come on now, get on your knees, I want you to kiss me somewhere else."

Your eyes widened, arousal being put on halt as the reality of what was happening overwhelmed your senses.

"Don't make me repeat myself." Patience seemed to run thin in Joel, opening the gates to something way more dark as his grip on your neck tightened. You felt if he squeezed you a bit more he'd leave a bruising handprint on your neck. Slowly slipping from his tense thighs you settled on your knees between his widely spread legs. "Go on." His eyes pointed to his ever growing bulge and you could swear you saw fire dancing in his pupils as your shaking hands started undoing his jeans.

He let out a sigh of relief as your hands let his cock spring free, the massive size of him intimidating to say the least. The last thing you wanted to do is compare him to your boyfriend - his son - but a rapid thought of how Jason had nothing on his father neither in terms of size nor girth still ran through your mind. His shaft was thick, you knew you wouldn't be able to wrap your hand around it and your insides clenched. He was veiny and tan, dark tip glistening with precum, inviting you to wrap your lips around it. You stared at it for a good minute, calculating how the fuck you're going to fit inside you - mouth or cunt - all good seven inches of him. You doubted he actually wanted to just kiss it.

"I know my cock's impressive, but stop fucking staring at it and get to sucking.

The polite, almost gentle Mr. Miller was nowhere to be seen, and he grabbed the back of your head, fingers tangling your hair as he guided you to his cock.

You did kiss it at first, getting to know the feeling of his hot skin under your lips, the salty taste of him on your tongue, the odor of his sweat and cologne - did he fucking sprayed perfume on his balls? - invading your lungs.

"I hoped you knew that 'kissing' was a euphemism." He quite literally took the matters in his own hands, squeezing your cheeks painfully and forcing his dick inside your hot mouth. Joel was too wound up or cared too little, going as hard as he did, shoving as much of his length inside you as he could - which wasn't a lot before you started gagging and gasping for air. Your hands went to his thighs, nails digging in the coarse material of his jeans as you tried to push away against his deadly grip.

"Now, now, baby, I know you can do better than that. Didn't my boy train that little throat of yours?" You moaned in protest, saliva dripping from the corners of your stretched lips and the man above you groaned in pleasure as another inch of his cock slipped inside. "I guess not."

You couldn't do anything but let him use your mouth as he pleased, bobbing your head up and down. "Come on, you need to take every inch, love. You're already doing great for me."

Something wild stirred your insides as a familiar wave of need dampened your panties further and you squeezed your thighs together either to get some relief. yourself or to suffocate your pleasure. You didn't notice when Mr. Miller's grip on your head loosened and you started to willingly force his cock down your throat.

You felt tears streaming down your cheeks in constant black waterfalls. Your eyes stung and your throat was full of his cock, but you continued inching further, the desire to touch the base of his cock with your lips ripping at your insides. You tried to see Joel through the tears, even with the blurred vision you saw his smile.

It was asymmetric and thin, almost maniacal.

"I love when you suffer for me, baby girl. You look so good crying on my cock." You gasped and as soon as your front teeth barely touched the sensitive skin of his cock you felt a slap burning on your left cheek.

"Careful, you don't wanna hurt me," the caress of his rough palm felt more painful, when he whispered a barely-audible "darling."

You nodded as much as you could, full of his flesh that somehow continued growing in you no matter how you tried to get used to it. He was close, you knew it by the breaths that were colored with little growls now, by the fact that he didn't say much more besides moans interrupted by occasional 'good slut, baby, such a good cockwhore' that made you squirm and press the heel of your foot harder into your aching core. The rough pull of hand that tugged you by your hair off his saliva coated cock took you by surprise, though. You were ready to feel his hot cum trickle down your throat, almost anticipating it, but when his hard angry length stared at you and he forcefully evened his breathing you knew how mistaken you were. Your eyes traveled back to his face in time to see him open his previously tightly shut eyes. He gave you another one of his smiles and patted your cheek, not caring about saliva and his precum covering your flesh.

"Good fucking girl," he exhaled, "but I have something else in mind."

You shivered when he got up, cock still free and bobbing, almost hypnotizing you to follow it with your gaze. You didn't get a chance, though, as he gripped your shoulders and brought you to your shaking feet. He looked you up and down, twisting his head to the side as his eyes stopped at your thongs. Without so much as a word, his large hand palmed your whole pussy, his fingers thick and warm against your aching core when he pressed into your still covered hole. "I see you're having as much fun as I am, baby. Good to know."

An involuntary moan escaped your throat before you could kill it when his palm pressed on your clit that by now was begging for any kind of attention.

He nodded to the couch. He didn't need to tell you what to do as you obediently climbed on it, draping yourself on the backseat, your pussy on the display for him.

He landed on the seat, his body half turned to you as his palm caressed your naked ass. The guilt filled your senses because at that moment you wanted nothing more than for his fingers to stray further, touch your dripping pussy no matter how wrong this all was. Be careful what you wish for, or whatever that bullshit saying was, you thought, as his fingers roughly yanked your panties down, a string of your arousal following with the garment.

"Fuck, now this pretty pussy just looks sinfully juicy." Joel hummed approvingly as he slid two of his thick fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. He spread your lips and you gasped at the feeling of being so exposed.

"What a gorgeous hole, screaming to be filled, isn't it?" Apparently the question was rhetorical, because he immediately pushed both digits inside you, the stretch not yet painful but intense. He pumped into you a couple of times before letting out a whistle. "Damn, baby, you want my cock so bad your cunt is practically crying all over my fingers."

His fingers continued his twisted caresses, kissing and stretching your walls, sending a shameful shiver down your ass. "I love how needy you are, must've been neglected for so long."

Joel took his fingers out and you heard a slurping sound. 'He's fucking licking his fingers,’ you clenched your butt at the thought of it and felt the couch shift as he stood up, standing behind you with one leg still pressing into the couch to the left of you for more balance. "Don't worry, baby, I won't let this pussy starve." The tip of his cock grazed your opening and you held your breath in twisted anticipation. He'd more to take than you ever had and you panicked, preparing for the pain. Joel continued swiping his cock through your sleek pussy, covering himself in your juices and letting your anticipation grow. When his tip kissed your clit you moaned, shifting closer to him and he chuckled. "Ready, baby."

It wasn't a question.

In one swift motion his cock split your pussy open and he sheathed himself in your tight heat, splitting you open. The burning stretch felt like he was ripping you in half, exactly what you were preparing for. The thing you didn't prepare for was the feeling it left in the pit of your stomach as his tip kissed the deepest part of you. Your cry was pathetic, just what he wanted to hear as his cock hid inside you.

It was too much. "Too much. Too much. Too much."

You didn't notice how you started chanting the words out, suffocating either on your tears, or was his cock choking you from the inside?

His hands on your hips as he pushed you up and down his cock were nothing but a welcoming distraction from the ever-growing sensation. "No, baby, not too much, just the right amount for that greedy cunt."

He didn't laugh but you could hear the smile tainting his lips. Did you actually like it? Did you like the pain? Was your pussy gushing all around him just a defensive mechanism? You couldn't think about it as a new wave of arousal enslaved every nerve ending in your body and your pussy clenched around Joel's cock, the fact that he didn't dare to miss.

"Tell me how good it feels, baby. It feels good, doesn't it?" And it did. Goddamn you hated yourself for it, but being stretched on his cock on a leather covered couch in a sweat smelling room with vulgar red lights dancing on your skin was as close to being satisfied as you ever felt in your life.

"Feels good, da... Mr. Miller."

You prayed he didn't hear the little slip you allowed yourself. You didn't know where it came from, you never said anything like that to Jason, not him, not any of your other partners. Luck wasn't on your side when you heard the man behind you bark a laugh.

"Daddy, hm?" He brought his hand to your neck, squeezing it and bringing your back flush against chest as he bit your ear before whispering, "I think I like the sound of it, baby. Don't be shy. Knew you needed a daddy since the moment I saw ya."

You whined, cheeks burning with shame from what the words flowing out of his mouth did to you. Your pussy clenched around him and his hand landed on your asscheek, "goddamn, you perfect little slut, you actually like it."

His surprise wasn't there for long as he continued stretching you out on his cock.

Joel leaned away, dropping your upper-body to its initial place over the backseat of the couch. The zipper of his opened jeans scraped the burning flesh of your ass and the button must've left an imprint, he didn't care one bit, fascinated by the look of your cunt around his cock. You felt him move a little, one of his hands disappearing from its place on your hips.

"Should we send a little video message to Jason, hm? See if he recognizes your ass bouncing so sweetly on my cock? Or should I send him a picture of you pretty gaping hole and see if he recognizes that?"

He pulled out for the briefest of moments, lowering his head to see your empty pussy flutter, begging to be filled without words. Joel licked his lips, a new desire igniting in him, but he quickly shut it down, shoving his cock back into your wet warmth and sighing.

"I recon he won't. Good boy he is, but he never had that in him. He could never use you to the fullest of your potential." You heard the telltale blip of the iPhone starting to record a video and put your head lower hiding your face in your hands and hair. Joel didn't notice, he was too enraptured by the vision of your abused pussy swallowing the thickness of his cock with little to no resistance at all. "Good thing I'm here now, baby. Now daddy's gonna take good care of you." He smacked your ass lightly. "So, should we send him a little wanking present?" You understood that now most likely he had a video and it sent anxiety shivers down your spine, you felt you were on the edge of tears again and did the only thing you could do - started begging.

"No, Mr Miller, please, don't." You turned your head just in time to see him raise his hand highly and slap your ass once more, this time it was painful enough that you knew you'd have a bruise.

"What did I tell you to call me?"

You gulped down the fantom rock that was blocking your breath way. "No, daddy, please." You didn't hear anything besides his hips continuing to snap and create a wet sound between your sweat slicked bodies.

And there it was, a little 'whoosh' of a message being sent and then the voice of the man who was finding new ways to ruin you.

"Oops, my finger was so wet it slipped, so I guess that's your fault, isn't it?" He was met with silence filled only with the sultry music of the club.

Joel stopped fucking you and squeezed your asscheeks painfully, warning like poisonous honey filling his voice. "I asked you a question, girl!"

"Yes, daddy, yes, it's my fault, I'm sorry." Your eyes welled with tears but you couldn't say they were all from pain or humiliation. The way he manhandled you, the way he forced you to take what you didn't know you were craving made you feel lightheaded. You didn't think about what this would bring, submerging into the feelings of his body overtaking yours in the most primal way.

"You're not yet, but you're getting there, sweetheart."

He resumed the punishing pace, stuffing his cock so deep inside you it made you think you'll forever have the imprint of his veiny shaft and prominent tip on your insides. He was growling, pressing his sweat soaked shirt to your back as his hand found your throbbing clit. You whimpered, shame enhancing your pleasure as you bucked your hips to meet the rapid movements of his fingertips. Your need added fire to his desire as he let out animalistic sounds right in your ear.

"That's right baby girl, don't need to fight it. Take it, I know you like this fat cock stuffing you."

Tears streamed down your face, your body a rigid sex doll in his hands, made for his pleasure. Your orgasm punched you in your stomach and your lips parted in a silent scream. It was good, it was so fucking terrible, but goddamn would you be a liar if that wasn't the best orgasm of your life. Fear, shame, need and pleasure made an intoxicating cocktail that was now gushing down your legs and all around Joel's cock.

"F-fuck, fuck that cunt is choking me. Fucking hell," his growl was almost scary as his hips shuddered. You whined, your swollen walls cried in overstimulation as he continued pounding you, chasing his own pleasure with no care to your comfort.

There was something sickeningly grounding in it. You felt free of everything, thoughts, feelings even desire to move. You just let him use you however he pleased, your wasted body just a container for his pleasure. "Gonna fill you up real good, baby. Gonna stuff you so full, you'll feel it for days to come." It was the last thing he whispered before he let you take every last drop of his cum, covering your insides in him. With a heavy exhale he fell on top of you, pressing you in the sticky leather of the couch. You both just laid like that, your breathing mingling together as his cock softened inside you, still keeping his seed inside.

You whimpered as he stood up, finally taking his cock out and slapping your bruised ass with a surprising gentleness.

"Come on, baby, turn around."

It took you all the strength that was left in you to turn around, limbs heavy, head barely supported by your neck. Joel looked as fucked out as you felt, face and temples drenching with sweat, shirt crinkled and his cock out, glistening with all kinds of fluids.

"Now, be a grateful girl and clean my cock, will ya? I can't walk around with your cum all over it, can l? It'd be downright filthy."

You shuffled around, finding a good position kneeling on the couch so his dick was on the level with your mouth. Joel brought his hand to your neck and squeeze, pushing you lower. He didn't need to press hard, you went willingly, swiping your tongue at the soft flesh that now finally fit into your mouth without chocking you.

"That's it, darlin'" he sighed, looking at you with a mix of perverted pride and adoration. "Next time we'll see if that pretty ass of yours stretches for me as good as your lips do."

Next time...

#joel miller x reader #serenaxpedro writes #serenaxpedro gif #tlou fanfiction #bfd joel #iamasaddie fic

[prettyboykatsuki]

wyll whos nice and kind down to his bones but develops a nasty jealousy streak….tugs you back behind some secluded corner of camp to kiss you something fierce when he catches how others at camp look upon you…starts smoking a cigarette

steadily yours | w. ravengard

✮ tags ; jealousy, established relationship, gn!reader, kissing / hickies, alcohol, silly and lovesick wyll

✮ wc ; 2k

✮ a/n ; ive thought about this ask for a week straight. its getting dire.

some minor spoilers for wylls romance like extremely minor and vauge!!! i am only just entering act three so pls dont spoil me but this take place vaugely post game lololol

The Blade of Frontiers is a good man.

This isn't a title he's given himself, but one bestowed upon him. Through tales and songs all across the city and uttered from the very lips of his lover - Wyll Ravengard has always strived to be a good man.

He can't assert this by any measure, but he knows best his own effort. For the sake of the city, for the sake of his people, for the sake of love. He wants very little to himself, and he fights with every ounce of him. His heart is in the city, but his soul is with you. Between these two places, there's no amount of sacrifice or burden he isn't willing to bear.

Part of being a good man is being the master of your own desires. What other men do is none of Wyll's concern, but he's always been adamant about keeping firmly on the straight path. Wyll wants love properly, much like how he wishes the world around him would follow.

Properly, with order and justice and care. That's how Wyll has lived his whole life.

And he's believed of himself that loving that way came easier upon him than it did others, though that was nothing he felt like bragging about. It never felt difficult to abstain from the ugliness of anger or jealousy.

That was before you. And this is after, this is post having your meeting. Wyll has had a relationship or two. Puppy crushes that fizzled off as soon as Wyll's responsibility began to overwhelming. Like, less than love, really. This time it is love, and love is incomparable to any sensation in the world. Not the cut of a blade against his skin, nor the warmth of a sunset. No mortal feeling could really measure to love.

In the aftermath of loving you, Wyll supposes, there is an ugliness within himself that he never really knew about. But maybe it's only normal. What else could there be after he's encountered the most beautiful thing the world has to offer, beyond even gods?

There are three things on Wyll's mind, lately. One, that he loves you more than he thought possible. Two, that he's relieved about the state of affairs. And three, he's very tired of feeling this way.

Not that he's tired of loving you. Things just aren't so busy anymore, and that means there's always people around. The people of the gate love you, and you're more hospitable than you let on. The camp is busy, rife with life every single evening and everyone is always so keen on meeting you.

You're busy, rightly - laughing and drinking. Though you're not much for talking, you do your duties as a host and tell stories when prompted. You seem to enjoy yourself in the well-earned reprieve and you've really do deserve very bit of that love and attention that's come your way.

So, Wyll knows feeling this way is ugly. The jealousy is ugly, and Wyll's not entirely lacking self-awareness about it. Though before he could chalk it up to other things, lately it's impossible. He knows that the Outlanders who come seeking your company have no idea you're engaged - and that they're simply men who desire you for the name you've earned.

A warrior, a hero, a myth - Wyll does not blame them for their curiosity.

But he feels pitiful to be so stirred up about it anyways.

He drinks tonight, though the carafe of wine is mostly full. The others speak amongst themselves. Astarion drifts by him, stands and sways in motion in the cool night air with a smug look on his face that Wyll is too dazed to catch.

Astarion speaks first. The sound is muffled first, impossible to make out in his own mind before a pale hand waves in front of his face.

"You know I'll have to thank your darling later for allowing me to see such a rare sight," Astarion drawls. He's sober, though there's wine in his hand all the same "The Blade of Frontiers, seething with jealousy. A marvel."

"I wouldn't call it seething," Wyll replies, still only half paying attention. His eyes are glued to you. He can't bring himself to look away.

Astarion laughs, a little pity in his voice , though Wyll can't really make out if it's sincere or not.

"But you'll admit you're jealous? My, Ravengard, you've changed." Astarion says. Wyll doesn't bother asking what he means, since it's true in any case "Forgive those poor Outlanders. It's hard enough watching them pine for one half the lovesick couple as is."

Wyll sighs.

"It's fine," Wyll says, though even he can hear how much he doesn't really mean it "It's not like they would know. I suppose many people wear decorative rings these days."

"Gods, this is funny. Just listen to you, I mean really. What a delight. I have half a mind to call the rest over just to witness it in person. Unfortunately I'm not so charitable," Astarion says back to him holding in a laugh "Whatever will you do, Ravengard? Maybe you could kick up a fuss, or pick a fight. People brawl at these things don't they? Oh what a sight that'd be indeed."

Wyll ignores him, but he does heed the advice. He would like to do something about it, though there won't be any brawl. He steels himself, passes an empty cup off to Astarion who makes a shrill laugh as Wyll starts walking himself over the fire.

When he arrives there, the conversation has come to more of a relaxed lull. You notice him even engrossed in conversation, flashing him a smile so beautiful he feels a little blinded.

He gives you one in return, disarmed. The outlander who's been trying to win your attention all night goes to address you again and Wyll is quick to interject.

"Ah, sorry - would you all mind if I borrowed them for a minute?"

You give Wyll a look of surprise, your eyes crystal clear. He feels guilty almost instantly, but continues anyway.

"Is something the matter?" You ask, your voice softened. You've been drinking, from the way your words melt together.

"Nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about in private. That alright? Promise I'll return them before the night is over."

"As long as you promise," Says the very same one Wyll's been trying to tear you away from all evening. You laugh heartily before standing to your feet. You're beaming at him, brilliant - and Wyll goes back to his usual pleasant self as he gives his goodbyes.

He says something about promising before he whisks you off, faithfully ignoring the knowing looks of party.

And he takes you to a quiet corner of the camp, a short trail bridging between the main plot of land. There's some sturdy scenery, and rocks large enough to shield you from the outside and give you privacy.

He's cornering you a bit, admittedly - but you seem happy to see him. As soon as you're alone, you have your arms around his neck. There's a delightful air of excitement around you and Wyll finds himself filling with all the fondness in the world.

The faint sour-sweet of wine lingers off of your lips. Wyll looks at you closely, studies your expression.

"Sorry, sorry," You apologize, suddenly more comfortable. A side of yourself that you only show to him. How funny it makes him feel "I was happy to see you, is all."

"I can see that," Wyll replies, smug - just barely. You bat your lashes, dazed. It's unlike you. Wyll likes it. "I'm happy to see you too. Always."

"Is it something serious?"

Ah. He's caught isn't he? In a way, he's tremendously lucky you're not too sober. He's sure you'll tease him about it later.

"No, I suppose not. It's nothing at all, I just," He stumbles uncertainly at what he should say "Well, I wanted to speak with you."

"You could've joined us!"

Wyll gives you a sideways glance.

"Could I?" He says, before he catches himself. He adds the next words apologetically almost "That outlander you've been conversing all night seemed rather rapt with you. I doubt I could've interjected anywhere without fumbling."

You look like you're processing his words, but it's not as if Wyll is going to let you.

Wyll often says to you that you make him forget himself, and there are moments like these he find that to be more true than ever. It is unlike Wyll - strong and chivalrous, poise and charming - to bear so heavy a feeling in his heart that he has to express it physically.

Only you could make his silver tongue submit to such urgent, base instinct. Wyll kisses you in the most unromantic way he knows. It's not very gentlemanly. A kiss to claim, to sink, to swallow.

He kisses hard, and your lips are faint with the taste of wine. You make a noise of surprise before you melt into his arms. The warmth of his body makes him feel like he's burning to ash. His tongue touches yours, warm and hot nipping at your mouth.

When you pull away, Wyll decides it still isn't enough to curb the jealousy. He lets his teeth drift down to your neck. Sharpened canines that scrape against thin skin. Wyll sucks hard, enough to make all the capilliaries break.

And you sigh - a pretty, welcoming noise. Wyll is marking you. He leaves one after the other, in admittedly visible places. But he's not thinking about, not really.

Not until your voice breaks, the sweetest edge of desire to your words. He's not so debased to do anything to you while you're more than tipsy. He pulls away from you, blinks at you candidly - before the realization dawns on him in full.

By the gods, what's wrong with him? Embarrassment hits him afterwards, abject dread filling him as he peers at the dark marks along your neckline.

Did he really...? Really?

"Wyll," You say, strikingly sober and delighted all of a sudden "Are you...perhaps...jealous?"

He rubs his face on his hand, suddenly flush, turning his expression to one side. He can't deny it at this point can he.

"I wonder if my life will be easier once our wedding is announced in print," He offers sheepishly. You laugh loudly, absolutely elated as you press your forehead to his. He does the same, of course "The ring seems to be no more than decorative to everyone."

"Wyll Ravengard, I would've never guessed in a thousand years you'd drag me here because you were jealous."

"Please forget my uncouth actions at your earliest convenience my love," He says, groaning "I might die of embarrassment otherwise."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I get jealous over silly things all the time. I tell you as much."

"When you do it it's endearing. I'm meant to be a gentleman, yet in front of you - I lose my wits like I'm a boy no older than seventeen. It's maddening."

"You forget yourself?" You tease, characteristically. He laughs.

"A bit more each day, it seems."

"A little jealousy is healthy, Ravengard. Though, I'm not sure how we're going to return to camp in this state." You say, giving him a suggestive look "Perhaps we have a bit more to talk about here instead, hm?"

"We should be doing such things in a bed. Or a tent." Wyll insists. You chuckle like you know he'll give into you.

"Wouldn't it be more effective if that Outlander you're so jealous of saw me with a post sex glow, along with the hickies."

Wyll feels his skin prick with heat.

"You drive a hard bargain." He comments, voice soft as a whisper. You laugh.

"Maybe you're just an easy sell."

Wyll laughs heartily at that.

"Any one would jump at the chance for something so priceless, Hero of the Gate."

You give Wyll another smile, lovely and genuine - there's nothing smug about it. You kiss him tender, sighing happily into his arms. He finds himself helpless to his own joy.

"Then lets kill time here and head back,"

"Yes," He says, jealousy tucked away for now "Let's do that,"

#return to sender #wyll x reader #bg3 x reader #wyll fluff #wyll ravengard x reader #bg3 fluff #writing tag #WYLL I WONT YHU

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch13

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, Oral (m-receiving), grinding

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

One Month, Twenty Days Until D-Day

"Miguel, I said I'm fine now. No need to keep me on a lease," You said with a low whine.

"Every time I let you out of my sight, you seem to get injured. I can't have my little Spider escape again." Miguel grunted.

Hiding your flustered cheeks, you pouted towards Miguel. He could be so stubborn sometimes. Then again, he wasn't wrong either. You didn't want to admit it, but you were still aching in pain from your fight with Goblin.

"Alright," You huffed, resting your head against his shoulder.

Miguel had you sitting on his lap, his arm firmly around your waist. He was absorbed in his work, grunting to your small comments here and there. It brought a smile to your face. Miguel seemed so cruel but cared so much.

"Miguel, how come you don't want to at least take my blood sample anymore? You were so adamant before." You asked out of curiosity.

"Because once I knew it was you, I knew you wouldn't like it."

"Awe~"

--------

What a fucking lie.

"I know how much you dislike my experiments," Miguel continued, sweetening his words, "I wouldn't want my little Spider afraid of me anymore than she is now."

"Awe~ Miguel~" You cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck, "I was never afraid of you! Concerned, yes, but not afraid!"

Too easy.

"Hn, but I do hope you tell me how this happened. I am a scientist, after all, I have a curiosity to feed."

"You have to promise you won't get mad,"

Lord, you looked adorable with your little pout. Miguel couldn't help but give you a lazy stare, holding back the urge to bend you against his desk and fuck you. Miguel was craving you, but he had to wait. He needed to make sure it was safe for him to take his injection.

"I promise," Miguel sighed, already knowing everything.

He just wanted to distract himself from work and entertain you. Grunt lowly as you fixed yourself against his lap, Miguel gripped your waist. These frustrating human urges had to wait. Miguel was giving himself a harsh slow burn at this rate.

"Well, remember that day when your Spiders got loose...One bit me and I accidently killed it. It was the same day I fainted," You whispered nervously.

"Ah, so that's how it happened,"

"I'm sorry," You gave a small frown. Miguel leaned forward to peck your lips,

"I promised I wouldn't be mad, remember? Instead, you can make it up to me by showing me what you could do. A little show,"

Perhaps he should go into acting? Miguel leaned back in his seat, impressed by his own skills. It was either that or you being too gullible. Your love for him blinded you in many ways that Miguel thoroughly enjoyed.

Watching you give him your own little runway show, Miguel couldn't help but chuckle. Your blood was being used right now to make several of his new injections. He was going to use it on more prisoners or willing test subjects. Which ever was the successful injection...

Miguel will kill them.

Only the two of you were allowed to bear humanity's future. Miguel was not going to risk another person poisoning his plan. Only Miguel could rule, with you as his trophy.

"Okay, this part really freaked me out at first, buuuuuut, I got used to it." You chirped, showing your organic webs.

"Let me see," Miguel motioned you closer.

You as his pet. His trophy. His obedient wife. Honestly, Miguel was lucky that it was you and not some random woman. Just the thought of you crying annoyed Miguel. He would have probably made you super powered in that case as well.

"Fascinating." Miguel hummed, holding your wrist.

"W-Wait...I didn't think it...would be this sensitive," You whimpered, trembling as Miguel stroked your wrist.

"Perhaps you just are," Miguel chuckled, watching you fall apart, "I believe I recall you mentioning better stamina? That isn't what it seemed like when my fingers were inside you."

"H-Hah, M-Miguel...Don't say things like that...out loud," You whimpered. Miguel pulled you closer,

"Hm? Are you getting wet just by me saying it? What a naughty girl,"

"Mhm, Miguel~"

"Show me how sorry you are."

Miguel resisted a chuckle as you whined and got down on your knees. He motioned you under his desk and watched you crawl over before undoing his belt. Ah, how perfect you looked. Your lustful gaze just begging for him.

Miguel inhaled deeply the moment you started to stroke his cock. How nice this felt. Returning to his work, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the time. Any second now his next meeting should arrive. Oh, how cruel Miguel was.

---------

Was today finally going to be the day? You eagerly got on your knees under his desk and started to please Miguel. He was driving you insane with all this teasing. As you undid his belt, you kept glancing up at Miguel.

Ugh, the eye contact made you melt.

Taking his cock out, you pouted as you started to stroke his shaft. Oh, what you would do to have this inside you. To have Miguel ravish you and make you his. Gosh, you had a dirty and unhealthy mind. This man was straying you from good!

Dazed as you glanced up at Miguel, you swirled your tongue against his cock, hoping for praise. Miguel rested his hand against your head, stroking it as you treated him. Your thumb pressing his tip slightly as you felt him twitch from your tongue.

"Good girl,"

Oh, those words made your panties soaked. Bringing your lips to his tip, you hummed as you twirled your tongue against it. Miguel only grunted in response before he started to type away. This made you frown since you wanted his attention.

Taking his cock in your mouth, you closed your eyes to the bitter taste as you started to suck. As you were getting into the groove, you flinched as you heard the doors open.

"Good morning, sir. I've brought the files you requested."

"Hm, you're late. I should have had these before I walked in." Miguel spat.

You were shaking as you slowly moved your mouth away from Miguel's dick. Why didn't he tell you he had a meeting? Gasping quietly, you felt Miguel's hand press your head back to his cock. Oh, he was mean. Biting your lower lip, you returned to sucking Miguel off.

"Did you get the other thing I requested?" Miguel asked.

"Yes...Sir, not to sound rude, but why couldn't you have gotten (Y/N) to do it?" The man questioned.

You flinched at the mention of your name.

"Are you telling me how to handle my own assistant?" Miguel chuckled darkly, his cock twitching more as you fasten your pace, "(Y/N) is doing something far more important than the task I've given you. Now, I suggest you leave before I get anymore angry."

"...Yes, sir..."

Feeling your eyes water as Miguel's cock hit the back of your throat, you tried to breathe through you nose. You were waiting for the other associate to leave. Hearing the door shut, you whined as Miguel's hand returned your head.

"Now, now. Kept going while I had someone in here, how bold." Miguel teased, moving your head at a faster pace, "I might have to reward you after all."

Ah, those words made you quiver. Wincing as you felt Miguel hold your head down, you moaned as he grunted and cummed in your mouth. You swallowed hard and coughed as you moved your head away from his cock.

"You're....so....mean," You whined.

Miguel just chuckled lowly as he wiped your face. He pulled you onto his lap, adoring how easily you caved for him. How easy it was to turn the city's hero into his little sex doll.

"But, you did hide your secret from me for a while,"

"Miguel~" You cried softly.

Why was he tormenting you like this so much? Grinding yourself against his still exposed cock, you whimpered and begged into his ear. Miguel held your waist, just grunting and groaning to your attempts.

"Now, now. You were just being a good little Spider," Miguel said with a sigh, fixing your skirt, "I'll give you a taste."

You gasped as Miguel placed you on his desk. He lifted your skirt and started to rub his cock against your panties. You knew that Miguel wanted you to wear more skirts, was this the reason? To torment and tease you?

"M-Mig-" You whimpered a moan as he rubbed against your clit.

"Hm? Want my fingers instead?"

"Hah~ N-No~"

---------

Miguel could see the tears in your eyes with every stroke. You were desperate, ready to cum. Miguel was tormenting himself as well. Moving you panties aside, Miguel groaned lowly as he rubbed his cock directly against your dripping cunt.

"H-Hah~ Ah~" You cried out, shaking in pleasure.

Miguel held your legs as he easily moved his hips. The thoughts of getting you pregnant were oh so delicious. Your moans were music to his ears. Just the thought of anyone else being in your shoes angered Miguel.

You were the only one for him.

"M-Miguel~" You moaned, arching your back as his dick hit your clit, causing you to cum.

"Heh, some stamina." Miguel teased once more.

"P-Please, Miguel...P-Please put it inside," You begged.

Miguel had to bite the inside of his cheek. Your pussy was making a wet mess on his desk as it clenched to nothing but air. If Miguel had a condom, he might just give into your advances. Shit, who would have thought that he was now going crazy over you?

"I can't, just behave." Miguel hissed.

Putting you on your stomach, Miguel pressed your legs together and squeezed his dick between them. You gasped and cried out as Miguel slapped his hips against your ass, giving you rough thrusts against your drenched cunt.

He wasn't fucking you, but he was giving you an experience. Miguel held your arms behind your back as he enjoyed the feeling of his dick between your legs.

Soon.

Your moans were filling his office as Miguel kept attacking your clit. Grunting lowly as you cam again, Miguel released your arms to hold your waist.

Soon.

Groaning your name lowly, Miguel took a moment as he cam between your legs. You body still twitching as he moved away, admiring the view.

Soon.

Grabbing some napkins, Miguel proceeded to clean himself up. He then moved onto you, watching you sweat and pant for air. If this was the state you were in now, Miguel couldn't wait to see what would happen when he actually fucked you.

Miguel stroked your cheek, kissing you for a job well done. You were making a mess of him. Once you were clean, you promptly returned to his lap, quietly sitting in place until Miguel requested for your help once more.

--------

Aaron sat in the lunchroom, watching some of the workers acting out. Everyone knew it was the effects of Rapture. It was almost that time of month for those affected associates to get their dosage of Rapture.

"Psst, I've told some of the others. They're willing to give you some of their supply for this month."

"Thanks, that's more than enough to do the job." Aaron whispered back. The other worked scoffed, sitting beside him,

"You're insane for trying this."

"The only way to stop a villain is to give him his just desserts."

"And how will you do it?"

"I'll just have to ask (Y/N) a favor,"

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (4.2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)

Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.

Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k

A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.

He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.

You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.

He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.

Translation: I’m excited to see you.

Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.

Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.

Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.

This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.

Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.

You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.

Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.

It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.

Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.

He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.

You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.

You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.

You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.

The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.

The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.

“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.

“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”

Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.

“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.

There’s a shuffling noise above you.

“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”

The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.

“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”

Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.

Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.

Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.

“Sorry,” Steve huffs.

“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.

The shuffling noise sounds different.

“No,” he says softly.

You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.

His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”

You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down. 

Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.

Tap.

“Sorry.”

“Comfy though?”

His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”

The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.

Twitch.

“Sorry.”

You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.

“Comfy?”

He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.

You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.

Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.

It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it. 

You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.

“May I?”

Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.

You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke. 

With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.

“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”

The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.

“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”

“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”

You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”

You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.

The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.

A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.

He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.

Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.

He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.

You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.

His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.

Don’t scare him.

It can’t last; you’re only human.

Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.

The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.

In that low timber, he growls.

“You like that… Knew you would.”

Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.

That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.

Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.

What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?

Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.

Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.

Again and again.

Again and again.

A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.

Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.

He moves to grip your thighs hard.

Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.

“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.

No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—

He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.

Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.

“N-uhhh god—“

He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.

“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.

It makes things worse.

You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.

Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.

His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.

Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.

Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.

“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”

“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.

“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”

You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”

A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.

“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”

He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.

“Sounds so pretty when you do…”

Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.

Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”

Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.

“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.

“More.” 

He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit. 

Too delicate.

“More,” you gasp.

He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.

The fire takes over again.

“More, Stevie. Please.”

You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.

Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.

“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”

Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.

Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.

The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.

“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”

You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.

That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.

Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.

His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.

You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.

Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.

He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.

Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.

He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.

“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”

That fucking mouth…

There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.

It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.

You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.

Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.

Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him. 

He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.

He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.

You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.

“Take the win, Cap.” 

You freeze.

You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.

“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.

Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.

He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.

After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”

A/N: In case you were wondering...

[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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[its-actually-minicika]

Hi, love your works so much! Can't wait for more updates 🥰🥰 I was wondering maybe you'd like the idea where book!Aemond and Velarion!(Strong?)Reader are in an arranged marriage. But Reader just knows what to say and how to act so that Aemond is wrapped around her finger (kinda thought of Margaery and Joffrey situation, she was such a talented schemer, worthy of winning the Throne 😭). I don't really know about the setting, like if it's before, during or after the Dance... just thought it'd be interesting to see this kind of plot with our beloved Prince 🤴🏼🐉

If you don't like it, just ignore me 🙈

Dragon Sickness (18+)

Pairing: bookcanon!Aemond x Strong!Niece!Reader

Warnings: No usage of (Y/N), Greens win AU, bookcanon Greens, the obvious Targaryen incest, mentions of major character deaths (we're entering spoiler grounds, but not really), blood, gore etc.

Word Count: 3.5K+

Author's Note: I fell in love with this idea the moment I saw it! I ended up altering the plot line for this one-shot a little bit - the reader will definitely grow into the Margaery architype, but today you shall see her as she was when she just learned how to make ends meet with her newfound life at Court.

I don't know if I should turn this into yet another series, but if you guys enjoyed this, let me know

Also, thank you so, so much for your kind words ♡ i'm hugging you to the moon and back!

PART 2 IS OUT NOW ♡♡♡

Who could ever blame you for your indiscreet acts? Alliances change when the world you know suddenly turns upside down.

She remembered how weak she was. How scared she had been.

How her eyes widened into two brown specs of uncertainty, how her mouth fell agape, as she mulled over Alicent’s words.

‘You shall marry Aemond within the next moon turns. For the good of the Realm.’

The Dowager Queen had openly admitted to being against the match – of course, the prospect of her perfect son, married off to a lowly bastard of Rhaenyra's (otherwise said, her last surviving child), didn’t specifically thrill her. Much less her demanding and scornful father.

Still, it couldn’t be helped. And if the Velaryon wanted to keep her head away from a spike, she had no other choice but to comply.

Although… she wasn’t a Velaryon now, was she? Aegon the Usurper made sure of that.

His final gift to her was to strip her of all her titles. She had been openly declared a bastard – before the masses, before the Court.

With a wide smile upon his burnt lips, the “King” had told her she’d be a Targaryen instead. Driftmark wouldn’t matter, her legacy wouldn’t matter. Aemond would inherit the seat with the Usurper’s blessing, as a homage brought to his able fighting and his shown bravery on the bloody battlefield.

Never mind that he’d never partaken in a fight; save for the one that killed her stepfather, Daemon, and sent her poor mother in a downward spiral. Aemond had chosen his adversaries wisely, and managed to go through the whole war without as much of a scratch upon his silver armour.

‘I shan’t marry your son. Not now, not ever.’ Her own voice rang out.

‘You will do exactly as demanded.’

‘I would rather die than bear the treacherous children of that monstrous beast.’

A monstrous beast. That is what Aemond was.

And that is what he shall remain. No matter how many gifts he brought to her. No matter how many hours of their days and days in their weeks and weeks in their months they spent promenading those ghastly gardens.

‘You will if you know your best interests. Your own head may hold no value to you, but a single swing of my son’s sword would be enough to bring forth the ruin of House Blackwood.’

At first, she’d been restless in her attempts to escape the Keep. Her every waking hour was spent shamelessly inside the Sept, where she prayed not for the safety of her brothers’ souls, but for revenge against the mutted Greens.

The slight breeze of the cathedral mended her flesh from the heat of summer. And no one dared to approach or talk to her. The quietness was a welcomed deed.

During the first night of their betrothal, her glossy eyes scanned Aemond’s face. His hands wantonly gripped at his thighs and a slight twitch of his mouth, accompanied by an elongated hum escaped his lips.

There was no other discernable expression. And when he led her to the chambers of her early girlhood, he merely bowed and kissed her hand.

She spent the first night of their betrothal scraping her knuckles so harshly, that they broke and cracked under the stimulation of the cold water.

Her thirst for vengeance ceased after the first two months. Her wedding date was approaching swiftly, and she found herself faced with the abhorrent truth. She had no allies. No more friends at Court. The girl had shut herself in her tiny room, losing her mind with the pain and grief that flooded her at night: the faces of her mother, her brothers, her father. The sound of their screams and their endless pleas for help.

Every night, without a fail, she woke up tormented by nightmares – her throat burning with absolving shrieks of fear, exacerbated breaths of air and flimsy nightdresses, damp throughout by breaks of sweat.

The first night she lashed out onto her bedding was the night she found out Aemond had moved his Quarters next to hers. He yanked the door open and stepped into the light of her candle – looking ravished, completely out of breath and startled. Started not for his own accord and safety, but for the state that his future wife had been in.

‘Shit, it’s alright, I’m here–’

The echo of his mellow voice deterred her to let out a blood-curdling scream, that would have rivalled even the one of the late Queen Rhaenyra, after Aegon the Usurper ceased her at Dragonstone, and reeled his dragon to eat her whole.

‘Get the fuck away from me! Get the fuck out of my room!’

Her sobs pierced into the man’s heart, but his hurt expression was masked quickly with one most bitter and taciturn. He clenched his fists ruefully by his side, and spat out an apology in a low and dangerous tone.

‘As you wish.’

And how dearly he loved those words:

‘As you wish.’

'As you desire.’

Even though nothing had been, or ever will be, as she achingly wished them to.

“You could at least attempt to look happy.” His chastising tone rained upon her, as his Lady remained hammered in her seat. Maids flocked to her like lost chickens to their cock, arranging her hair and picking out dresses fit for their engagement parade.

Her face contorted into the mirror, and a faint sigh beleft her lips. Carefully she turned around, reflecting his stance with a subtle arch to her shapely brow.

“It’s bad luck to see your bride before the wedding ceremony.”

“An old wives' tale. And one that applies only on the day itself.”

“Perhaps we should encourage tradition more. Make it so we don’t cross paths at all til then.”

Just as fast as it came, the feral look dissolved over his tired face. Aemond heaved out a heavy exhale and merely settled to growl at her maids.

“Leave us. Now.”

A discontented look painted over her fair features. His niece opened her mouth in protest, to try and stop the fleeing girls from truly making their escape.

“I must remind my Prince that the engagement assembly will be held in less than an hour. I believe I should like them to stay.”

The gathered women exchanged lost and protruding glances, until the former King Regent spoke again.

“They will leave us at once.”

“They’ll do no such a thing. They must make haste to get me ready. We wouldn’t want to upset your mother.”

“I’m more than capable of lacing up a loose bodice.”

The tight expression on her face deserted her features with the leave of his smug retort. She swallowed thickly in enraged abandon, and silently beseeched her ladies not to leave her all alone.

Still ravishing her with his bold stare, Aemond stepped another foot into the cosy confinements of her tidy prison. “If I’m to turn around now and find any of you standing before me, I’ll arrange that you’re all flogged and defiled beyond the utter of salvation.”

Brisk footsteps swallowed the room, echoing wildly through the narrow dark hallways. The former Velaryon shook her head in disarray, and graced her soon-to-be-husband with a tight smile and a nod.

“Congratulations.” She uttered humorously, “I should enjoy looking like a fool tonight much more than being proper by your side.”

As if drowned below a trace, Aemond took another step in the direction of the frowning Princess. His face remained impenetrable, but as he opened his mouth to speak, his voice ran meek, unsure and hoarse.

“Turn around.” He commanded her gently, whilst grabbing a deep green garment from the cluttery made on her bed. Despite her lack of desire to abide by his request, the woman turned her back to him and muttered slowly, though much softer than intended.

“I don’t like that one. It’ll make the skirts look out of place.”

“Which one do you want, then?” His whisper had made her draw in a sharp gasp; the warmth of his breath fell soothingly over the nape of her neck, caressing her delicate skin in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

“The red one with black lacings.”

His hand came to spin her back around, and their noses nearly touched together. A smile tugged at the ends of his upturned lips, but the look inside his eye remained frigid and unforgiving.

“Your petticoat won’t be those colours.”

A conceited scowl graced her face. She reached her hand behind him and skillfully snatched one of a different design. “Fine. I want to wear this one, then.”

The obnoxious blue and silver danced across her paling skin. And if Aemond weren’t so dazed by their proximity and lack of air, he might have laughed at her feeble attempts of vexing him.

“Those are Velaryon hues.”

“Perfect. I shall honour my house well.”

“You are not a Velaryon to grace them with such a feat.”

“No, you are absolutely right. Your brother did name me a Targaryen.”

Their faces were so close to each other, that their moving lips were almost touching.

“Yet I can’t wear black and red either.” A prompted look disarmed the Prince, “It is all very confusing.”

His lone orb descended to her puffing bosom, but Aemond soon directed himself upon a more elusive image. His fingers twitched with the need to grab a hold of her – to pull away those last pieces of cloth that shielded her away from view.

“You know full well why I can’t allow that.” He hummed in unmoving disapproval, “As much as I enjoy your voice and the raptures of your closeness, I must say this conversation bores me.”

“I should be able to wear what I want.” Came her prompt and swift reply, “But of course, Your Grace, forgive me. ‘Tis not for men to pounder on laces and brims.” Her palms took to rest upon his bulging chest, and the girl nearly removed them at once, as the thrumming of his heart enterlaced with her slim fingers. Still, she furrowed her brows in a most perplexed of mockeries, and insatiably drove on, “Indeed resilient men such as yourself occupy their time much better.”

The callouses of his hands fell heavily upon her cheeks.

“Fucking their ways through brothels, getting their pricks wet, and fantasising about wars.”

The harshness of his next tug nearly broke her brave facade – her eyes widened in mistrust, and a slight recoil braced over her straightened back. Her small fingers clasped over his shaking wrist, which held onto her face with a gentleness untoward; one completely mismatching with the predatory glimmer in his eye.

The man he was, and the man he was trying to be would surely never mend to one.

A Kinslayer. A monster. A divergent freak.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

His thumb played absent-mindedly at her lower lip, and the young Princess tried her damnest not to bite him. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?”

“You are as imprudent as you are beautiful. A family trait, I assume.”

“You have my gratitude for the flattering commentary. I’m very proud of my heritage.”

His lilac orb bore into her, and the man let out a reserved laugh, “Your bastard brothers were ample proud. Look where that brought them.” The rough end of his hand gripped her own painfully, before she could make for a swing at his handsome face. “Lost in the seas, rotting at the bottom of an ocean, nestling inside Sunfyre’s belly.”

While her hands were clasped together, her mouth wasn’t sown shut. With a single and effective move, she spat harshly in his face, eliciting a groan from her broader perpetrator.

Though his nostrils flared up in disdain, the man graced her with a calculated smirk. “Did I strike a nerve with that one?” He mocked her with feigned interest.

“Fuck you,” She hissed out slowly, “Don’t you dare talk of my family – my brothers were ten times the man you are.”

“Oh, but I have every right to talk about your family. Given that I will be all yours shortly.” Once more he forced her to turn around, and kneeled over to her spasming form, to begin dressing her up; in nought else, of course, but the mundane silks of his choosing.

"Doesn't the prospect thrill you? To become my lady-wife, to finally bear a true Targaryen inside your royal womb?"

So hopeless and defeated she felt, that the youth jerked herself relentlessly, while repeating him the same plethora of words. “You cannot force me to be your whore. You cannot force me to wear this. I will not bear your Hightower green.”

Aemond could feel his patience running thin – and when her foot came into contact with his setting knee, the man let out a ferocious growl, and promptly trapped the girl in his arms, with the aid of a nearby wall.

“So you want to be difficult? You don’t want to wear this? Hmm? Well, who am I not to abide my Lady’s burning wishes?”

The sharpness of his dagger came into quick contact with the milky skin of her thighs. And she might have almost screamed, if Aemond didn’t immediately pull himself away. His hard chest grazed hers for but a moment, as the Prince cast his attention to her moving shadow.

“If you wish not to attend our engagement parade wearing the clothes I’ve chosen for you,” He muttered against her face, a scorned look adorning his own, “Then you won’t be wearing anything at all.”

She huffed out a dispensing pant and pursed her lips into a tight line.

She remained rigid and poised, until a spark of amusement swirled into her eyes.

The first crack was that of a lax smile. The next, a tremor to her lips. The calm before the storm approached, until all rattled down with a mirthed laugh cascading from her reddened lips.

“Do you mean to frighten me with this promise?” She asked through the arch of an uncertain brow, “As if every man in this cursed Keep won’t get to watch me whore myself out to you anyway, when our wedding night will come?”

His face suddenly hardened at the notion of their reality – as if he didn’t give much thought to the bedding ceremony. To his Lady being watched by a thousand other eyes but his.

Aemond suddenly darkened, and his fist came into contact with a near spot on the wall, so awfully close to her frightened, paling face.

She watched with wide eyes how his stare contorted from one of realisation to one of fury. He stiffly peeled his body away from hers, and strained himself to leave her be. The jealous and possessive knots that churned painfully inside his stomach burned his skin upon the surface, and constricted the air he brashly took in.

He nodded to her in a spry and calloused manner, and brought his hand out to touch her cheek. His knuckles had begun to bleed, busted by the force of impact that his fist had faced for him. Behind his eye danced a look of seldom shame – he gnawed harshly at his bottom lip, and pondered, for a while, on apologising to his niece; for his lack of princely conduct, for his show of impropriety – for his inability to keep himself at bay.

Still his thoughts failed to merge to words, and so the man ran his eye one final time over her defensive pose, and merely left her standing there.

As if turned into a statue, the girl barely registered the lethargic closing of the door, the hurried and heavy footsteps that travelled further and further away from her quaint and cluttered space, and the animated curse that slipped past her uncle's throat.

Did he just dare to leave her there, with her petticoat half up her legs, in nought else but a flimsy nightdress?

At first she thought that his avoidance was a blessing in disguise.

For after clashing wits with Aemond, and after his swift hurried departure, the man had barely graced her with another word.

His hand held onto hers for the whole duration of the procession. He wordlessly forced her to dance two dances, and led her to her Quarters as soon as she mentioned that she was tired.

But his palms didn’t linger on the shape of her narrow waist – his lips barely grazed her knuckles, and Aemond turned with lest a word to add after their fake sympathies were exchanged.

Had he gotten bored of her? Realised what a terrible match they made, and begged his mother on his hands and knees to break off their ill engagement?

For the first time in a while, a new notion of fear engulfed her.

The Greens couldn’t kill her. Of that, she was almost certain. It wouldn't be a wise move, and it would anger the North beyond the power of salvation. The war had had its say on every army that fought into it, yet the Crownlands were especially weak.

But if Aemond were to sever their solidary alliance, then her future would be most uncertain.

Otto Hightower would make her join with an old and withered Lord, no doubt – one with more than enough sons to further on his pesky line. One who couldn’t even get it up to her, who’d never procreate and mend their blood, who’d make sure Rhaenyra’s line would end with her.

Or perhaps she’d be sent to join the Faith – become a Septa or a Silent Sister, among the infamous Maris Baratheons of the Realm. Yet another girl who wouldn’t keep her tongue when asked.

And history might remember them as ‘the women who couldn’t be tamed’, but their lives would be thrown to ruin. Their existence would remain a sham.

No, she had whispered to herself, as she writhed into the soft bedding. If she still thirsted for revenge, she would have to marry Aemond. Keep him interested and relaxed – yearning for her voice and company.

… And if she had to whore herself to him to do it, she would obediently assume her role.

“I beg your pardon?” Aegon asked through another gulp of bitter wine, “Gods be good – I believe that now I’ve heard it all.”

Aemond paced about his brother’s room, with his hands clasped behind his back, and his face set into a deep grimace. He hummed in admission to his brother’s words, and glanced his way with the instance of a hooded eye.

“There is to be no bedding ceremony.” He repeated himself with ease, “I frightened her enough already. The girl will be plenty uncomfortable without the aid of chafing eyes.”

His brother smiled and raised his brows in nothing else but blinding wonder. A small shake of his head indicated his perplexion, and a sharp inhale his drawn decision.

“Mother insisted upon it. You know that well.” The man steadied himself in his chair as he spoke, whilst letting out a small grunt at the contact that the wood made upon his burnt remnants of skin. “I don’t see any reason to annul it. Especially now, an eve before.”

Another sip of the stinging liquor interrupted his smooth and ready trail of thought. The Targaryen brushed off Aemond’s concerns, and gleefully bided his teasing.

“It’ll do the two of you good – you’ll get to see she’s as pure as a bastard girl can be; and she’ll have no deniability that any of her future heirs are yours.” He pointed his weary digit in the direction of his stiffened form and swallowed down a hefty laugh. “Not to mention that Lord Redwyne and Tarly already placed bets on the state of her maidenhead. Would be a shame to disappoint them both, don't you think?"

“What mother thinks is of no consequence. And the amusement of the Realm matters not to me. There will be no bedding ceremony.”

“Nonsense, Aemond. It is our duty to upkeep the Realm – and to entertain its inhabitants if need be.”

When his reckless teasing was met with glacial silence, Aegon sighed as he briskly leaned forward. He watched his sibling with an indiscernible expression across his scorched veneer, and yawned greatly at his indisposed behaviour.

“Of course, we’re here to talk it out. But after so much time spent in your company, I fail to see the necessity for such a thing.” A sly smirk danced across his puffy lips, “Are you concerned that she won’t bleed? Or that you’ll be too cunt-struck by her to last enough to make a statement?”

Aemond’s fists descended upon the polished wood of Aegon’d desk. He thrashed his brother with a defiant glare, and hissed through his gritted teeth, and tight-set jaw.

“There will be no bedding ceremony for my niece and I. Tell that to every Lord that wishes to glance upon my wife – if they do so much as to cast their hands on her, they’ll be fucking their own wives with a wooden cock.”

Amusement laced with grave concern – the finality of Aemond's words ought to have vexed him, irk the King in his sibling's weighty insolence. Instead Aegon nodded, pushing back the feeling of dread that settled deep within his bones. His head jerked towards his closed oak door, signalling to his brother that his visit had been overstated. “What sort of brother would I be, to not grant you with this simple whim?”

The younger Targaryen mirrored his stance, and turned abruptly on his heel after a low grunt of gratitude.

His hand reached for the golden handle, but Aegon's words deterred him to a halt.

“But be careful with that one, Aemond. She’s brash and wholly unpredictable. Make sure the blood that stains your sheets come morning isn’t somehow your very own.”

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