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harrysfolklore · 8 months

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Can you write a blurb where y/n is pregnant and she and harry are at a family party or something and everyone keeps touching her bump and she’s very uncomfortable, and harry comforts her? Xx

as usual, i hated the ending for this but i hope you guys like it 🥲 let me know your thoughts and thanks for the request <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

GIF BY @whatsthereinthename

The world was going crazy over Harry Styles becoming a dad.

And the fact that the picture he posted on his Instagram to announce it gathered over 30m likes, making it the 10th most liked picture on the platform’s history proved it.

However, his millions of fans all over the world weren’t the only ones feeling absolutely ecstatic over his wife being pregnant with his first child, his family was also losing their minds over the news.

The Styles family loved YN to pieces, and not only Harry’s nuclear family consisting of his mom and sister, his extended family including aunts, uncles, cousins and even family friends had grown to love the girl over the years. So when Anne called up to invite them over for one of her famous get togethers, they were over the moon because they knew the couple would be there and they would catch a glimpse of a pregnant YN for the first time.

“You ready, love?” Harry said as he entered their shared bathroom where his wife was applying the finishing touches to her makeup.

“I am, just need to spray on some perfume and I’m good to go.” She said as she turned around to face her husband, and when Harry got a proper look at her his breath almost hitched in his throat.

She looked absolutely breathtaking with her navy blue sundress and the brand new bump that adorned her body.

Harry swore that he had never seen someone more beautiful.

“Look at you, darling.” Harry simply said, putting a hand on his chin, looking at her almost in disbelief.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” YN joked for a moment, battling her eyelashes at him.

“No, you’re just the most gorgeous woman on this earth.”

“And you’re a total sap, let’s go, I don’t want us to be late.”

The car ride to Anne’s house was nice, their favorite soft tunes and small talk filled the air until they got there, and before getting off the car, Harry took a moment to reassurance his wife about the evening.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want to rest let me know immediately, okay? I don’t want you or baby to be overwhelmed.”

She pecked his lips softly before speaking, “We’ll be good, don’t worry.”

They got off the car and we’re instantly met with Anne waiting for them by the door, a fond smile on her face at the sight of two of her favorite people.

“I’m so happy you made it,” she said as he hugged Harry first, “Darling! You’re absolutely glowing!” she hugged her daughter-in-law, gently caressing her bump.

“Thank you, Anne. It’s so good to see you.”

The three of them headed to the backyard where the rest of the guests were mingling, and once YN stepped foot all eyes were on her, complimenting how beautiful her bump looked.

“YN darling! Long time no see!” one of Harry’s aunts approached her, hugging her before placing a hand on her bump.

At this, she immediately tensed, not used to anyone aside from Harry touching her bump.

Harry noticed it and he placed a hand on her back protectively before speaking, “We’re going to sit down for a bit, the missus is a bit tired from the drive here.”

Once they were seated next to Gemma and her boyfriend Michal, YN squeezed Harry’s leg gently and gave him a soft smile, as a way to thank him for his previous action.

The evening went on smoothly, they ate Anne’s delicious food and engaged with family they haven’t seen in a while.

However, every time someone came close to YN, trying to touch her bump or just invade her personal space, she grew more and more uncomfortable.

“Your bump is getting so big!”

“Is the baby kicking yet?”

“I miss having a baby bump.”

Were some of the comments YN had heard all day long, and by the time another of Harry’s aunts tried to approach her, she had enough and quickly exited the backyard before she could reach her.

“Love? Are you okay? Saw you running away back there.”

Harry’s voice made its way to her ears, she was leaning on the kitchen counter, her back facing him.

“I’m okay, just needed a breather.” She said, her eyes closed and still not facing him.

“Hey,” Harry slowly approached her, standing next to her but not touching her, “Can you look at me please?”

YN slowly turned around, and once Harry saw her watery eyes with tears threatening to come out, he pulled her to his chest.

“What’s going on, love? What made you upset?”

YN took a few breaths before speaking, “I just, I’m not used to anyone but you touching my bump and being close to me, and your aunts have been all over me all evening and I guess I got overwhelmed,” she sniffed before continuing, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude to your family but these hormones are acting up.”

“It’s okay love, nothing to apologize for,” he pecked her forehead softly, “Do you want to get out of here, we can leave now.”

“No, we don’t have to leave,” YN interrupted him, “Can you just, stay next to me when we go out there? I feel safer when you’re close.”

Harry almost melted at her words, and she grabbed her chin and kissed her lips softly.

“Of course, my love. I’ll always make sure you and baby feel safe and comfortable.”

And with a final shared kiss, they headed out again, Harry staying by YN’s side the entire time, making sure she and his baby were always safe.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry

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50shadesofrossi · 2 years

Text

Want Me

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You're Rhaenyra's lady in waiting, by her side at all times and thus leading you to spend many hours within Ser Harwin's company, drawing the two of you together

Warnings: Smut, mentioned violence, swearing, angst (if you squint), fluff

A/N: Hi, small warning, haven't written a full smut scene for a while so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy :)

"Want me to kill him?" You absentmindedly offer to Princess Rhaenyra.

She chuckles from behind you, her fellow ladies attempting to hide their smirks and smiles whilst they finish up her hair. "I know how much you crave violence, but I can not allow you to kill him. Besides, how would you even do it?"

You pause in the mirror, your eyes flickering to find Rhaenyra's. "Seduction is a woman's greatest strength." You whirl around to face her, a cruel expression etching into your face at the thought. "A simple poison into his drink and during the night he'd cease breathing and the Maestor would declare a heart attack. An easy kill, if I say so myself,"

The princess raises her eyebrows, her lips pursing together. Tonight is her name day feast, celebrating another year of her youth and thus drawing in all the potential suitors wishing to offer themselves. One of the Lannister twins made a fool of himself, offending Rhaenyra and thus resulting in you plotting his death, should your princess command it.

As her lady in waiting, you take your role very seriously. Though, you are oft referred to as her sister, the two of you becoming close at a young age and growing up together. It has solidified your relationship with her, and in turn, you know each other inside and out.

Your sharp words and cunning nature are a breath of fresh air as opposed to the customary expectations of Rhaenyra's fellow ladies.

You glance over yourself once more in the mirror, your attention spanning over the finer details of your gown and the excellent work of the seamstress. The dress accentuates your frame, the embroidery and accessories dating back to your House and heritage.

You look like a woman, a woman grown and of power.

"Are you ready?" Rhaenyra pulls you from yourself, twirling around to give you a full look at her.

"Indeed, and must I say my Princess, you look divine." You tell her honestly.

She smiles, the two of you making your way to the great hall. Heads turn at the sight of you both, the heir to seven kingdoms and her fierce lady, who would protect her more so than a knight.

Your stomach begins to twist as you near the hall, your teeth grinding together to keep the nerves at bay. You feel a reassuring squeeze on your hand, your dear friend sensing your change in behaviour.

"If he doesn't fall at your feet and beg for your hand, I'll feed him to Syrax myself," she whispers.

You bite your tongue, though a small smile creeps out. In the past moons, you've become acquainted with a knight, the two of you sharing passions and dreams. Nothing more of talk has happened thus far, but you can't help but think that maybe he will ask for your hand in marriage, as the two of you spend most days side by side.

He makes your heart beat rapidly, with the small gestures and whispered words when no one is close. Not to mention, the way he looks at you, like no one else exists but you.

Yet, you can't help but think that you're in way over your head, too consumed to see the reality.

You have no time to ponder Rhaenyra's words, as the two of you arrive at the hall, the chatter dying down instantly. Swallowing, you hold your head high, following Rhaenyra down the stairs and toward the high table where you veer off to your own.

His eyes were on you the moment you appeared, refusing to leave even as you sit down. You look absolutely breathtaking.

Of course, you avoid his gaze, even from across the room, as you begin to fill your plate. Your skin ignites under his heated stare, your desire overweighting your sense of propriety. Glancing up, you meet him, his deep blue eyes burning into your darkest depths and tearing down every wall you've ever built.

Ser Harwin Strong, renowned for his strength throughout the seven kingdoms and his proud house.

Your cheeks heat up under the intensity, neither of you daring to break contact. You admire how he's dressed, his fine threaded clothes making him look regal, his unruly curls neatly pulled back into a bun. Gods.

The grumble of your stomach brings you to your senses, your head bowing down to begin consuming your food. You feel him continue for a heartbeat longer, before he diverts his attention elsewhere.

As the night begins to progress, you drag Rhaenyra to dance, moving with the music and enjoying yourself. You change partners throughout, making yourself known and extending yourself to the other lords and ladies currently attending for the princess's name day.

For once, Harwin doesn't grace your thoughts, until he becomes your next partner.

Your eyes widen for a moment, your breath catching. "Ser-" you start, not expecting to see him.

"My lady, you look exquisite." His rasps, his body feathering your own.

His heat wraps around you like wild vines, pulling and tugging you closer, enticing you to become lost. You hit your chin out, refusing to fall prey.

"And you, good Ser,"

Harwin smiles, a hum of satisfaction rumbling within his chest. His hand brushes your own, a part of him needing to touch you, his resolve almost snapping from the softness of your flesh. His fingers itch to press firmly, to warn off any man or lord that dare think they have a chance with you.

"Are you enjoying yourself, this evening?" He asks, his lips close to your ear as to make sure you hear him over the loud music.

You turn your head, his breath fanning your cheek. Heat pools within your stomach, want gnawing at you and demanding to be free. "I'll enjoy myself once I've had my dessert," you dare.

His eyes narrow, assessing the situation. Little minx. Before he can conjure his own smart remark, a fellow knight of the city watch approaches, pulling him away from you. You watch him go without a word, a sense of humiliation washing over you as you continue to dance alone, searching for Rhaenyra.

You find her with her uncle, enjoying themselves.

Biting your lip, you move off the dance floor, standing on the sideline. You feel deflated, watching your friends enjoy themselves and even sneak out of the hall with their suitors, and your heart's deepest love couldn't even excuse himself. He just left you.

You see him, surrounded by his companions, and more so with an older woman hanging off him. Now you feel stupid, your usual confidence and ego a ghost. The woman wraps an arm around his waist, much like a partner, and him not moving.

Of fucking course, I'm just the plaything to keep him entertained whilst his lover is elsewhere.

Grinding your jaw in anger, you inhale deeply and begin to make your way through the crowd, ignoring Harwin and his group as you have to pass them to ascend the stairs out of the hall. Your hasty exit catches many people's attention, especially the one you were hoping wouldn't notice.

You don't realise he follows you, until you almost reach your quarters. His boots hit the ground harshly, as he tries to catch you, going as far as calling out your name. You pause in front of your doors, whirling around to face him once he draws near.

Fire dances within your eyes, making Harwin pause momentarily. "Ser Harwin?" You snap.

"I wanted to make sure you're well, you left in such a hurry,"

"I'm fine," you start, your thumb running over your fingers anxiously. "The hall became too much, so I'm retiring for the evening."

Harwin tilts his head. He calls bullshit. He knows you, he grew up alongside you and knows that you are one of the last to leave the party, oft enjoying yourself too much to notice the sunrise and thus requiring an escort, usually him.

He reads your body language, depicting your sudden mood change has something to do with him. He chuckles lightly, amusement etching across his features at your frustrated glare. "You're jealous."

"Jealous?!" You repeat in disbelief, your raised voice echoing the corridor. "Me? Of what?" You ask him incredulously. You naturally begin to step closer, "of that woman? Why would I be jealous of some wench when I am the Princesses lady in waiting, I can have almost any suitor I want, I have sway within these walls and no one quite realises the extent I'll go to if I'm pushed, not to mention," you stop just shy of him, your chest heaving. "One word to my Princess, and I can have whatever I want."

Harwin peers down at you, a small smirk gracing his lips at your outburst. "I never said what you were jealous of," he says lowly, almost inaudible if not for your closeness. "I'll be sure to tell my sister you think she's a wench."

Your world crashes and burns. Sister? That was his fucking sister?! Your heart ceases beating, your breath catches in your throat and your skin clams up. Realisation and dread wash over you, embarrassment etching into your cheeks. You become a wounded animal, and respond much as they do,

"Fuck you." You don't know what compels you or who takes over your body, but you can't stop the words from tumbling out and sending them straight at Harwin.

He blinks.

Quickly you spin on your heel and make haste to your door, pulling the handle to only have it slammed shut, and a large body pressing against you. Your throat constricts, feeling Harwin's entire front against your back as his hand looms over your head, keeping the door closed.

One small movement, and he could bury his nose into your hair. "Say that again," his chest rumbles, his mouth angling down to press on your ear. To make sure you hear him loud and clear.

You're frozen, your body shutting down. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "Go on, don't go shy on me now, my lady," he presses, pushing you.

Licking your lips, you hesitantly shift on the spot, leaning your back against the door and tilting your head to hold Harwin's gaze. He pins you down, the entirety of his body caging you in, almost like a shield protecting you from peering eyes.

"Fuck you," you whisper.

Reflexively, his other hand snaps to your jaw, his fingers digging into the skin. Your lips part, your muscles relax and your body becoming a rag doll. He could very easily suffocate you like he was bunching up a piece of parchment, he wouldn't even feel your bones snap. Yet, in this very moment, your thighs press together, your garment becoming soaked with each passing second.

You know he won't hurt you. His hold on you is firm and delicate, the pads of his fingers gently holding you in place. He tilts his head, assessing you like he would an opponent, his dark eyes roaming your face and his brows twitching in thought.

You test the waters, standing straighter and in turn bumping your nose into his cheek. Harwin exhales shakily, his grip tightening if only a smidge, in comparison to his self-restraint. You nudge your nose against his, his hooded eyes following your every move.

Your breath tangles with his own, desire and hunger transpiring. Harwin's jaw clenches, his palm against the door closing into a fist. You want him, he wants you. Swallowing thickly, your lashes feather your cheeks and you take the plunge, pressing your lips against his own with uncertainty.

For a moment, you float, your body becoming weightless and your mind lost. His lips are softer than you imagined, despite his harsh reputation, soft and plump on your own. Harwin responds, before suddenly pulling you away by his grip still on your jaw.

A bucket of cold water drenches you, his sudden cold demeanour creating a crack in your heart. Not so much that he pulled you away, more how forcible it was, after he began to lose himself under the taste of you. That hurts.

Your eyes flash. You move to release yourself from his grip, but he tightens it, his head turning slightly as though to check for any movement within the corridor. With precision, he pulls you flush to his body and opens the door in one movement, shoving you inside to your quarters and locking the door behind him.

"You naïve girl," he starts, running a hand over his beard.

You scoff, creating distance between the two of you by standing at the window sill. "And they say romance is dead."

Harwin narrows at you. "You have no idea what you've just done, what if someone had seen?" His voice raises, his hand gesturing to the doors.

Confusion swirls within you at his sudden change of behaviour, at his switch from intimacy to frustration in an upsetting kind of way. "I don't see the problem," you cross your arms, raising a brow. "I want you, and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks."

"Well, you should!" You're taken aback by his sudden outburst, a sliver of fear creeping up your spine. "I am not good for you," he says your name with such emotion. "I have enemies at every turn, I can't be at your side protecting you every day and not to mention what would happen to your reputation-"

"My reputation?" You cut him off, your voice low in disbelief of what you're hearing. "You think I give a fuck about my reputation! About your enemies? Gods Harwin," you begin to pace, your hands running over your head and falling against your neck. "How fucking dense are you?"

He attempts to ignore the hiccup in his heart rate at the way his name rolls off your tongue. "I'm more than capable of protecting myself," you start after calming down a notch. You cross the room, standing before the brute and taking his large hands in your own. "Is it that hard to believe that I want you? That I don't care about everything else, about your history and reputation, about the fucking court gossip and your enemies? All I care about is you, your health and well-being, and that I know you'd never hurt me, physically and emotionally. I know you'd die protecting me, and you'd make me feel so loved, despite that shield you put in front of yourself every day."

Harwin brings your hands to his lips, brushing them over your delicate fingers whilst he closes his eyes, relishing in the moment. His coarse beard caresses your skin, planting the idea of how it would feel between your thighs.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you drop your hands down, beating him to it. "You want me Harwin?" your voice pulls to him, lulling him in. "I am right here, otherwise there's the door," you gesture.

Your chest clenches at the thought of him turning his back. You wonder how he could kiss you back, then cough up some bullshit about him being bad for you. It confuses and wounds you.

His lips part, the cogs turning in his head as he makes his decision. He surges forward, gently taking your head in his hands and angling you upward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

He walks you back until you hit the pillar, careful not to slam you into it. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue begging for entrance and his breath meddling with your own. Your fingers curl onto the front of his jacket, squeezing out any air left between you, your fronts pressing tightly.

Your lungs burn, your actions becoming erratic as you move up to his hair, tangling his curls and removing the band keeping it back. You pull at the roots, emitting a deep groan from Harwin, his own hands gliding down your body to find refuge on your waist.

You pour all your emotions into the kiss; the hunger, lusting, anger and need. He dominates you, his mouth slowly moving down your jaw, his teeth nipping along your bone and travelling to your neck, unknowingly finding your sweet spot.

You bite your lip at the sound you release, a small sense of embarrassment flooding your body. Harwin immediately comes up, holding you still with his hard stare. "Don't you dare quieten on me."

"Like your girls loud, Ser Harwin?"

He chooses to ignore your comment. You smirk, your usual demeanour washing into the shore, a calculating look flashing in your eye. Before he can do anything you shove him back, pushing him down onto the lounge.

Surprise is evident on his face, his eyes watching you curiously. You crouch between his spread legs, your palms sliding over his thighs in a soothing manner, slowly making your way to his waistband.

You quite like this image; his unruly dark curls free and framing his face, his intense eyes swallowing you whole and his knees bent outward. He looks casual, yet so fucking handsome you have to restrain yourself from fucking him there.

"Don't look at me like that," you scold, tugging on his pants.

"Like what," he grumbles, lifting his hips.

His pants pool at his feet, his hardened cock free from restraints. "Like I don't know what I'm doing." He eyes you suspiciously, waiting for you to shut down his thoughts. "I've been fucked before, if that's what you're wondering."

He hums in dissatisfaction.

"I'll decide if you've been fucked, my lady." You raise a brow at the title.

He opens his mouth to say something more, but only a loud groan escapes, your lips wrapping around his cock. His hips reflexively jut, his hand moving to your head in response to your movements, your tongue flattening along the underside.

Harwin shudders, his chest rising in deep pants under your ministrations and his fingers flexing in an attempt to hold himself back from face fucking you. You work him steadily, glancing up at him through your lashes and feeling a sense of pride roll down your spine at his dishevelled state, his head lolling over the back of the lounge.

"Fuck," he curses, tilting down to hold your gaze.

You move a hand to work the rest of his cock that you can't fit in his mouth, momentarily pausing when he grabs your wrist, and quickly heaves you off him. "You do that, and this night ends very quickly."

"I find it hard to believe that Breakbones finishes in under twenty seconds," you muse, slipping out his grip easily and situating yourself on his lap.

He groans quietly, both in frustration and need. "Believe me, my lady, that when I cum, I intend on cumming in you and filling you up."

"Good."

You begin undoing his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms before moving to his shirt, heaving it up and revealing his toned stomach. Your fingers splay across his chest, feeling his hard-earned muscles and scars from various fights. You pause on a particularly large wound along his abdomen, feathering the pink tissue.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers your name, reading the emotion on your face.

"This is an assassination attempt, Harwin." You press, flickering up to hold his stare. "Someone almost succeeded in fucking killing you." Unwanted tears spring in your eyes, raw emotion thick within your voice.

The thought of Harwin being killed, frightens the fuck out of you.

He cups your cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping a tear. "This is what I meant," he refers to his previous statement about his enemies. You still, your features hardening.

"Don't you dare, Harwin. Don't you fucking dare." You spit.

He stays silent, observing you whilst your fingers continue their path along his torso, grazing each other his scars. "Seven Hells help the next man that makes an attempt on your life," you vow, your hand splaying out over his heart.

"My little warrior," he rasps, pulling you down to him.

Your lips collide, the taste of him invading your mouth and stealing your breath away. You whimper at the feel of his hands sliding up your arms and resting on your collarbone, toying with your dress. Blindingly he reaches for the lace tying it together, pulling it apart and loosening the top section.

Goosebumps rise along your flesh as Harwin gently tugs the dress down your arms, exposing your breasts and stomach once it pools around your hips. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck, gasping under the ministrations of his hands along your breasts, his thumb tweaking the bud.

You thread through his curls, your nails scraping his scalp and your lips seeking out his neck.

Suddenly he lifts you off him, placing you down on your feet. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and a little confusion, unsure of his next motive. "Take it off," he commands softly, the low rumble in his chest making your heart rate spike.

The dress falls to your feet and you step out of it, mindful of taking off your shoes and being left bare before him. He slowly takes his boots off, never breaking contact even whilst he removes his pants.

You watch him stand, tilting your head as he comes near. He doesn't speak, nor does he kiss you again. Instead, he hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and your arms coming to the back do his neck.

He walks toward your bed, gingerly laying you down. You stare up at him with adoration, every fibre of your body knowing you're safe with this man. Despite his reputation, you could almost laugh, knowing that there is a softer, more caring side to him than anyone realises.

No one has ever touched you like you're glass, like you could shatter and slip through his fingers. He kisses you with so much passion and care, in stark contrast to his daily goings. You've witnessed him in a brawl, smashing the men to the ground without a worry and pummelling them to an inch of their life.

Yet you know, these hands handle you with love.

You slide up to the head of the bed, brushing the hair from Harwin's face when he comes to hover above you. He descends, missing your face entirely and planting kisses along your neck, slowly travelling south.

Airy breaths leave you, your body responding to his attention, more so as he pauses over your breasts, taking an erect nipple into his mouth and tugging. Fire pools within your stomach, threatening to pour out. In a way it does, your head falling back into the cushions and your lips parting to release sounds of pleasure.

Harwin continues his way down, his eyes flickering up to you through his loose curls, intently watching your reaction as he nears between your thighs, softly blowing cool air on your sensitive region. You grit your teeth, glaring down at him.

"Hurry up."

"As my lady commands," he chuckles.

Your flush at the incredibly loud moan, not exactly expecting him to dive right in. Harwin drags his tongue up your slit, finding your clit and sucking. He switches between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking, groaning lowly to himself at watching you writhe under him.

He draws more sounds out of you, snaking a hand up to tease your opening, carefully entering a finger. "Fuck!" You arch your back, your hands reaching for his hair.

He slowly pumps it out of you, enjoying the way you feel around him. He can only imagine how tight you'd be around his cock. The thought almost makes him fuck you right here.

Your stomach twists, your knuckles turning white. No man has made you feel like this, even with just his mouth and finger, the two bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He adds a second finger, wanting to properly prepare you for him, and enjoying watching you lose yourself to the pleasure he's giving you.

He can feel you get close, teetering along the edge as he begins to increase his pace. You whimper at the ache, rutting your hips upward. "Harwin," you whine at the contact of his lips enclosing over your clit and sucking, hard.

The fire burns brighter, scorchingly hot and desperate for a release.

"Let go," he murmurs, gently nipping your clit. You do, your orgasm crashing down like a wave, engulfing you.

He slowly continues to move his fingers through, allowing you to experience your high as he draws it out. He can't help but clean you up before he even thinks about moving away from the safety of your thighs.

With ease, Harwin climbs back up, claiming your lips. You taste yourself, rummaging your hands through his hair and down his back, his muscles rippling under the pads of your fingers.

He pulls away from you, question shining in his eyes; do you still want this?

You nod, leaning up to kiss him again, solidifying your answer. He hums, guiding his cock to press against your slit, teasing you for a moment before he nudges your opening. You gasp on his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders at every inch.

Harwin falls into the crook of your neck, groaning at the sensation. He stops moving once you've taken all you can, pausing to make sure you're comfortable. You clench around him in reflex, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest, his beard grazing your neck.

"Harwin," you pant. "If you don't move in the next five seconds,"

He chuckles at your warning, slowly pulling back. You bite your lip, closing your eyes at the high pleasure rocking throughout your body. Harwin lifts his head, his forehead brushing your own. He intends to watch you complete shatter underneath him.

He slams home, somewhat slow but hard, rutting into you like wild waves against a rock, your back arching and pressing your chest to his. You can't help but rake your nails down Harwin's back, ignorant to the fact that you're close to drawing blood, desperate for a way to show how easily he's unravelled you.

"Gods Harwin," you cry out at each thrust, harder and deeper than before.

He grins, his lips on your ear, "I know quiet isn't exactly in your nature, but maybe don't alert everyone in the Red Keep of our rendezvous."

"Oh fuck off."

Harwin reaches for the headboard, his knuckles turning white from his harsh grip, using it as leverage to pound harder. You chant his name, subconsciously clenching and unclenching around him, causing him to falter each time.

That burning ache brews within you, gradually growing with each slide into you. His free hand comes down to your clit, playing with the bud and drawing you closer to the edge. Overwhelming sensations spark up your body, your legs starting to shake from the pleasure.

"Harwin," you whine.

"I know," he grits, picking up his pace. He hits parts of you that you never knew existed, fireworks erupting each time he enters you deeper, if that were possible. "Good girl, you're taking me so well, hmm?"

Your head is tilted up by his hand leaving the headboard to cup the side of your face, forcing your eyes on him. You struggle to keep your eyes open, a drowsy, drunken look coming across you.

Without warning, you let go, bursting around him. "Gods, fuck!" Harwin calls your name, following you over. He couldn't last any longer, not after feeling you come undone from him.

You gape in a silent moan, relishing in the feeling of him fill you up, his hips slowing but not yet relenting. You shiver from the sensitivity, thankful for when he stops. You struggle to hold contact, fatigue seeping in.

You sigh at the feeling of him remove himself, your muscles relaxing and your spine calming. You don't see where Harwin moves off to, until he comes back and murmurs for you to spread your legs, gently wiping his seed from your thighs.

For a moment, you wonder what happens now. Does he just leave? Does he stay? What happens between the two of you? Thoughts rummage, ruining your come down.

"Hey," he brushes your forehead. "Come here." He pulls the sheets back, indicating for you to crawl underneath. All those thoughts are momentarily thrown out the window when he slides in beside you, pulling you to him.

You lay in silence, your head on his chest and your hand playing with his loose curls. "What happens now?" You can't help but ask.

"Now?" He hums, his chest vibrating. "You become my lady wife, and I fuck you whenever I please."

You laugh, rolling further into him. "You better, now that I've given you my maidenhood."

He pulls away slightly, making you look at him. "What? You told me that this wasn't your first-" he stops, reading the glint in your eye and the expression on your face. "You cheeky girl, almost gave me a heart failure."

You grin cheekily, not quite saying anything whilst you comb his hair. You've found yourself with an obsession. "Leave your hair like this," you say lowly, loving the way it frames his face.

"But it gets in my way," he grumbles, swatting your hand away.

"And I like it like this," you counter, going for his curls again, but this time running your nails along his scalp, smirking at his groan. "And I think you secretly like it too." He gives you the side eye, taking your other hand and bringing it to his lips.

#ser harwin strong #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #ryan corr #ser harwin x reader #hotd #house of dragon fic

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crimsonbubble · 1 year

Text

cw. best friends brother au, nsfw, afab!reader, use of the nickname kid, oral (f receiving), nipple play, pull out method *not proofread, just pure horny

[I'm a whore for a bfb fic 🤲🤲 and finding out keegan has the black hair and blue eyes combo got me fucked up ong 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️]

reblog and comments are appreciated <33

MINORS DNI!!

you've only met him a few times. merely exchanging a soft hello and moving on with your day. but there's something so enticing about your best friends brother simply leaning against the doorway of his sisters room, taking the time to cross his arms and rest his head against the frame.

your friend was downstairs somewhere, probably in the kitchen when keegan saw you laying on his sister's bed. he's not one to care who his sister is friends with, but there is something about you that makes his heart race. whether it's the way you look at him with big doe eyes or the way your shirt clings to your boobs so perfectly, the way your jeans stretch around your thighs, or the way he imagines the cute noises you'd make if his head were between your thighs.

he's infatuated with you, there's a deep need to have you, to love you to the moon and stars, to show you a world full of love and lust. you both want the other, but that goes against your friendship with his sister. you're interrupted from your thoughts as keegan is now standing in front of you, guiding your head up to look at him with a gentle hand. "if you don't want this, push me away."

you look into each other's eyes for a few more seconds before you tug him down to your level. he lets out a soft breath, holding your face as you nip at his lip. with his hands supporting you under your ass, he moves you over to his room. he kicks the door closed, almost missing the lock. once he parts from your lips, he trails kisses down your jaw and neck.

he presses your back to the bed, hovering over you as his hands caress all over you. "fuck, you drive me crazy, kid." his hands gripped your hips, pushing you up further on his bed. his lips find their way back to you as he tugs your shirt over your head. his hands tug your bra cups down, letting your tits spill out. he kisses down your chest, fondling and squeezing your mounds.

"keegan-" he moans at how his name spills from your lips, taking your nipple into his mouth. "say my name again, sweetheart. please." he gently tugs at the puffy bud, circling it with his tongue before moving to do the same to the other. his name tumbles from your lips with a teasing smile, lifting your hips to wiggle out of your jeans. keegan slides then off you, falling to his knees to leave kisses on your thighs.

"you're mine after this, yknow that? all mine, sugar." he hums softly against your skin, spreading your thighs further to slip your panties down your legs. "hmm all yours, keegan." he swears he could marry you on the spot, eyeing the way your cunt glistens in the low lighting of his room. his hands are holding your legs up and open, giving him perfect access to lick and suck all he wants.

your hand tangles in his hair, the other coming up to stifle the moans and shaky breaths that threaten to give away your activities to your friend. his eyes bore into you, watching your face contort with pleasure. the slick wet noises are embarrassing but they add more heat to your shuddering body. start shoot across your vision as keegan sucks your clit into his mouth, carefully pushing his fingers into your sopping hole.

your back arches off the bed, pushing his face closer to your mound. your thighs tense around keegans head, keeping him in position as he worked you through your orgasm. your bones feel like jelly, buzzing with pleasure as keegan kisses up your stomach. he whispers praises against your sweaty skin, caressing your thighs and hips. "you can take a bit more for me, yea sugar?"

you can only nod, words eluding your head as keegan tugs his pants down. his tip is rosy and leaking. he works his cock through your folds, grinding his tip against your pulsing clit. there's a delectable feeling of pleasure and pain in your sensitivity, but the slow push of keegan easing in, inch by inch cloud your brain. you hold on to his biceps, digging the blunt edge of your nails into his skin. he winces at the sting, hiking your legs up to wrap around his waist.

"fuck, you're sucking me, baby. taking all of me so well, sugar." he groans deeply, hitting all sorts of spots within you that have you shaking and writhing under him. you're clinging onto him for dear life, kissing and nipping along his neck. you're trying to keep yourself together while keegan tries to take you apart. "just a little more, yea?"

you hum contentedly, the sloppy sounds of skin on skin barely hears over keegans deep groans and shaky breaths in your ear. his hand finds its way between your bodies, pressing on your clit to draw you closer to your orgasm. with the added stimulation to your clit, it wrings out an intense shudder from you as you orgasm.your walls tighten and pulse around his cock, his pace faltering.

with each shaky thrust, he nearly whimpers in your ear as he pulls out, wrapping a hand around himself. he strokes himself quickly, body shivering as he hid face in your neck. his cum splatters your stomach, hot and sticky. "you better take me out on an amazing date after this." keegan laughs breathlessly, kissing up your neck and jaw.

"I'll make sure to do just that."

#bubbly writes <3 #keegan russ smut #keegan smut #keegan russ #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod smut #cod x reader smut #cod keegan #keegan cod

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libraryofloveletters · 11 months

Text

Can’t Get Away From You

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a mini fight, some shouting, one mention of throwing something at someone, your boyfriend is attached to your hip and follows you like a puppy, power outages, jumpscares, some swearing, stuck in the middle of no where.

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: okay I lied, I know I said no fics but this was in my drafts and I had the urge to finish it :) also this was a random idea that @themandaloriansdiaries and I came up with on ft many many nights ago

"Why do you always do this?” You shouted at the man across the room from you.

Your boyfriend stares at you like you had gone insane and sometimes he thought you were, but tonight’s shouting was justified.

The two of you were supposed to go to your sister’s surprise birthday party but big shocker, Erling chose to stay back and kick a ball around for another 2 hours. Their training session was already done, he had no reason to stay back and yet he did. You were waiting for him so you could go together opposed to taking two cars because he kept telling you 10 more minutes and he’d be home, but you ended up being two hours late to your own sister’s party.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” He looks at you and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Yes, because that makes up for the fact that I was late to my sister’s party. You’d never do that to your sister, would you? And you know I would never do that to her either. I actually care to show up when I say I will.”

“Y/n, you're overreacting. She didn’t even care that you were late.” He huffed, sitting on the couch.

You cannot believe him; he was late, had the audacity to tell you she didn’t even care and now he can't even stand up so you can shout at him? You were sick of his shit, you needed to leave before you threw something at his head.

The man watches as you grab your purse and phone, storming out of the front door and letting it slam shut behind you. He gets up, following you out the door.

“Where are you going?” He shouts from the porch, you don’t answer but instead get into your car and back out of the driveway.

You had no idea where you were going but you needed to be anywhere but there.

You drove for what felt like hours before you finally stopped in some random parking lot off the side of the road; you had driven out of the city and into the countryside. Hunger was kicking in and you tumbled through your purse for a mint, a piece of gum or literally anything edible. Eventually giving up on the tumbling, you dumped the contents of your purse into the passenger seat and switched on the light.

There’s a set of keys staring at you, a bright blue man city key chain hung on the bunch; the keys to the cabin.

Shortly after you and Erling began dating, the two of you decided you needed a place to go when you wanted to be away from the city. That’s how you ended up with a cabin 3 hours outside of Manchester.

The sky was varying shades of the black and the once viable moon was now blocked by clouds. You figured since you were closer to the cabin then you were home, you might as well spend the night there.

Another hour and you pulled into the muddy driveway, it seemed to have rained at some point during the day. You silently thank your boyfriend in your head for putting in sensor lights, otherwise you might have just slept in the car. The yard was pitch black and the Remingtons, the couple who owned the house across from your place, were away for the summer which meant you were all alone in the middle of nowhere.

The thought freaked you out, but not enough to make you turn back and go home.

You shoved everything back into your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you avoided the puddles of mud on your way to the front door. The look clicked as you turned the key and you sprinted into the cabin, shutting the door behind you.

A hand dragged across the wall, feeling for the light switch and you pressed it, lighting up the place. You also turned on the light in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom because you were alone.. not because you were scared or anything like that.

The cupboards were pretty empty, anything of substance was eaten the last time you two were there because you didn’t want it to go bad. The only things were a few boxes of mashed potatoes, a can of corn and one can of sliced pineapple.

You couldn't be bothered to cook so you pulled the pineapple can out and was about to crack it open when there was a knock on the front door.

It was safe to say your blood ran cold.

The Remingtons were gone, you were certain of that because they told you to check on the house when you come down if you did, which meant they weren’t there.

No one else lived around here, and you can’t just say no one is home because you switched on every light possible.

Setting the can down, you slowly made your way to the door. You waited to hear if there’s another knock, you peeked out the front window in hopes of catching a glimpse of whatever was outside.

“Babe!” The voice called, startling you. “Open up!”

You groaned, the voice belonging to none other than your boyfriend. You opened the door, unfortunately, and found your giant of a boyfriend standing there with a bag in hand.

“Are you gonna make me stand in the rain?” He asks, the hood over his head blocking the water from his face. “I figured you didn’t eat dinner, so I brought you something to eat.” He stepped into the house; he was so big, you couldn’t really stop him if you wanted too.

“When the rain stops, I want you out.” You turn to him and he smiles, nodding.

He handed the bag over to you, the smell of Chinese food filling your surroundings. You refused to cave, holding your ground and staying mad at him. He shut the door behind him, turning the locks.

“What the fuck man? How’d you know I was here?” You handed the bag over to him, acting like you didn’t want it. Erling shrugged, taking the bag back and going to the kitchen.

He unpacked the boxes, setting them on the counter. “You left your location on.”

You groaned quietly, cursing yourself for leaving it on. Erling ignores your theatrics and puts some food on a plate for you, bringing it over to you and setting it on your lap. He knew you well enough to know if he offered the plate to you, you’d refuse and you needed to eat; part of why you were so snappy with him was because you were hungry.

He can’t help but notice how you un-tense now that he’s around; it brought a smile to his face but he didn’t dare say anything.

Erling sat beside you, eating quietly.

“Can we play a board game?” He asked, setting the plate on the coffee table.

“No.”

Erling hummed, going to dig the monopoly box out from the tv stand drawer. He set up the board, all the little pieces, the cards and the dice and began playing by himself.

You ignored the man, trying not to laugh as he screwed him over on one of the places he wanted. He rolled the dice, counting out the places he needed to move when the lights shut off.

The sound of thunder startled out, causing you to jump slightly.

“Babe, you okay?” He called, getting up. “Ow fuc-” he groans, probably stepping on one of the little pieces.

“I’m fine,” you get up, walking to the kitchen to get your phone off the table. It wasn’t pitch black, you can still make your way around the house so you searched through the kitchen cupboards for some candles, anything that can give you light for the time being.

Erling had gone quiet, you were about to turn around to see where he was but a hand on your shoulder caused you to drop your phone and let out a scream.

“It’s just me,” he laughed and you smacked his arm.

“What the fuck man! God, you are so- ugh.”

You sit at the table, phone back in hand as you called the power company. They finally get to your call after an hour on hold and let you know that the power won’t be turning back on until tomorrow morning.

The phone dropped on the table, your head tipped back as you groaned.

Erling reaches for the candles on the top shelf and lights them, setting them on the table. He sits across from you quietly, the two of you listening to the rain until the sound stops, the last flash of lighting strikes and it goes quiet.

He looks out the window and back at you, the soft orange glow of the candle light reflecting off of your skin. “I should head out,” he says, pulling your focus to him.

“What?”

“The rain.. it stopped. You said leave when it’s done raining.” He reminds you, standing up.

“Oh.. right, yeah. Okay, go ahead.”

Erling kisses your head when he walks past you, telling you to call him if you needed anything but you ignored him, still holding out on being upset even though you weren’t anymore.

The door shuts, you move from your spot at the dining room table to the couch but before you could sit down, the doorbell rings again. “What?” You shouted, walking over to see what he wanted.

He smiles at you when you open the door, pointing to the tree that’s fallen and blocked the driveway. “I’m stuck.”

“Use that viking strength of yours and push it away.” You shut the door again and went back to the couch.

You felt a bit bad, the guilt of him sitting out in the rain sunk in, even more so seeing that you had nothing to distract you. You pulled yourself off the couch and opened the door again, assuming you’d see his car on and him in it but it was off, the driveway was dark and the tree was still there.

“Erling?!” You shouted in the emptiness, “where are you?!”

There’s no answer but what are you supposed to do? Stand out in the rain or maybe go looking for him in the dark?

You shut the door, turning back around to see him sitting at the kitchen table.

“WHAT THE FUCK ERLING?!” You screamed, your heart jumping out of your body momentarily. You let out a breath, hand pressed to your chest. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“The back door was open.”

“Why are you lurking at the back- wait, it was unlocked?” Your brows furrowed, looking towards the back door.

Erling nodded, “yeah, I wasn’t lurking though. I went to check if the generator would turn on.”

“And it did?” You wrapped the blanket from the couch around yourself.

Erling looked up at the light that’s yet to turn on. “I mean, obviously not.”

It was freezing in the cabin, considering that the power had shut off and it was raining, it only made it colder.

“C’mere,” Erling calls for you, his arms opened as he waits for you to come cuddle up next to him. You shook your head, waddling your way to the bedroom. Your boyfriend follows you, watching as you dropped on the bed and pulled the comforter up on top of you.

You can feel the cold running up your spine, the cold air creeping along your skin despite the two blankets and the giant man in the room lifting the blanket wasn’t helping.

“What are you doing?” You grumbled, not turning around.

Erling slipped into bed next to you, pulling you flat against his chest. His body was like a heater, the man wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder before fixing the blanket.

You tried to wiggle away but he held you firmly in place. “You can stay mad but I'm not letting you freeze.”

You let your boyfriend hold you, simply because it's cold and not because you were mad at yourself for being mad at him for no reason. At some point, the two of you must've dozed off.

The lights were what woke you up; bright white lights shining down on you from the ceiling and the fact that the curtains were still open didn't help your eyes that were now adjusting to being open again.

There’s some heavy on you, you can’t even pull yourself up and you’re almost certain you know what it is. You look down to find your giant of a boyfriend on top of you. His arm tossed over your hip, face smooshed against your stomach as he snored quietly.

You smiled, forgetting all about last night as you pulled the hair tie from his hair. He stirred, settling moments later when you passed your hand through his hair. Your fingers rubbed along his scalp, massaging his head.

“Morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your stomach. He kicked the blanket off of him, “it's hot.”

“Power turned back on.”

He shifts, laying beside you and pulling you into his side. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Mhm hm, I know.” Your fingers dragged along his shirt. Erling looked down at you, “are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Sorry,” he says, like it's obvious.

“No,” you joked, smiling at him. Erling knows you were, you don’t really do emotions or say sorry but he knows you are.

He laughs, kissing your forehead.“Shall we go get breakfast?”

You groan, burying your face in his side. “We have to take two cars.” “Oh and move the tree.” He reminds you, making you groan again.

---

taglist: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @kylianswag

add yourself to the taglist!

#erling haaland #erling haaland x you #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland x y/n #erling haaland imagine #erling haaland fanfic #erling haaland fluff #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football imagine #football fic #football fanfic

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honey-milk126 · 4 months

Text

Dating the Demon slayer characters (pt.1)

A/n: this won the poll (surprisingly, I thought it was gonna be haikyuu) anyway enjoy!

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Includes : Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma,

Inosuke Hashibira, Nezuko Kamado, Genya Shinazugawa, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Obanai Iguro, Muichiro Tokito, Giyu Tomioka, Tengen Uzui.

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Tanjiro Kamado ( you are 15)

•Drinks his respects women juice daily.

•Loves to hold you.

•Will hold doors open for you.

•His sister probably loves you.

•Loves to see you guys playing together.

•Gose on missions, you try to get him to stay with you.

•Hates when you have a mission(wants to with you.)

•Tries to protect you from zenitsu.

•Dosent wanna leave you alone with him.

•Nicknames for him: My prince, my boo, babe, bae, baby, prince Charming.

•Nicknames for you: babe, my love, princess, love, boo, my queen.

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(Little story :)

As you walked down the hallway to your room, after a long mission you just wanted to rest. You watched as the night sky became a little bit darker.

As you finally made it to your room, you noticed the door was cracked. As you peeked inside, just to make sure there wasn't a demon inside, you just seen your boyfriend and his sister asleep on your bed.

'Awww, how cute' you thought to yourself as you walked in. As you walked in you seen tanjiro move in his sleep.

'I need to be more quite' you thought.

As you noticed that nezuko was awake, she just sat up.

"Mhm!" She said muffled.

"Shh, your brother is sle-" you said intrupted

"Sorry, I kinda tried to wait up for you." He said yawning.

"It's fine, let's get to bed." You said crawling into bed and into your lovers arms.

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Zenitsu Agatsuma ( you are : 16)

•Worships you.

•Basicly kisses the ground you walk on.

•Loves to hold on to you.

•Hates when you leave for a mission.(literally cries)

•Brags about you to anyone who will listen.

•Has to kiss you at least twenty time a day.

•uses pick up lines on you.

•Nicknames for you: My queen, baby, princess, my love, my baby.

•Nicknames for him: My king, love, prince, honey, boo, my sleepwalker.

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(Story:

As you were walking back to the butterfly estate, going to checked up on because your scratches from your past mission were bleeding again.

But as you were walking you seen your dear boyfriend, zenitsu. He was crying about another mission.

As you walked up closer to them, because he was with tanjiro and inosuke. He was crying and complaining about this "super hard" mission.

He just needed to go get some medical supplies from the village. And he didn't wanna do it alone. Because apparently there was a demon there.

"Hey guys." You said waving your good arm at them as the other one was bleeding.

"Hey, y/n" tanjiro said waving at you.

"Hey, *mispronounced version of your name*" Inosuke said.

"Hey, baby" your boyfriend said looking really sad.

"Hey, what happened to your arm?" Tanjiro asked.

"My stitches came out, I'm going to see shinobu about it." You said.

"Oh, see I cant do the mission." Zenitsu said

"Yes, you can" you said walking off.)

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Inosuke Hashibira( you are 15)

•Always mispronces your names or nicknames.

•Always tries to fight you.(it's his love language)

•Will cuddle you once in a blue moon.

•Lets you wear his mask in private.

•only let's you touch his hair.(mostly to wash it.)

•Will fight for you.

•Hates when you have a solo mission.(or a mission with zenitsu).

•Is pretty obsessed with u.

•is also protective of u.

•Nicknames for you: Babe, love, n/n,honey.(all mispronounced btw)

•Nicknames for him: My king, baby, my love, Pig man.

•he is not big on nicknames.

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As you were packing clothes for this two day mission, with zenitsu. Your dear boyfriend was complaining about it.

About how it isn't fair, and why did it have to be him, and he couldn't protect you like he could from the demons.

As he was complaining, you finished packing, because all you needed was some clothes, pajamas, and medicine for the headache you have had for the past few weeks.

You were hoping zenitsu wouldn't be super cowardly. But you knew him and he would run at the sight of a demon.

"What if he leaves you?!" Your boyfriend yelled.

"Then you can fight him" you said.

"I'll fight him either way." He said holding you.

"I'll be safe, I promise" you said kissing him.

"Fine" he huffed

Then he watched you leave for your mission.

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Nezuko Kamado( you are 14/12)

• you are both demons!

• you also don't feed off of blood.

•You are Giyu's little sister/brother.

•Loves to be held.

•Also loves to hold you.

•Braids your hair. (If it's long)

•Makes flower crowns with u.

•Nicknames for you: Babe, my love, princess/prince.

•Nicknames for her: baby, honey, sweetie, princess, my fave.

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As you walked towards your room, as you live with your brother, it was quite. It was also midnight, and you were getting tired from doing nothing.

As you got closer to your room, you noticed that the window was open which was weird as it was closed before.

But before you could question it, you seen your amazing girlfriend sleeping on your bed. You looked at her adoring her sleeping face.

But you closed the curtains, just because the sun would be up soon. Then you crawled into bed and fell asleep next to her.

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Genya Shinazugawa ( you are 16)

•Respects you more than anyone.

•Lets you touch his scars.

•You have to comfort him.

•Lets you hold his hand.

•Likes to be held.

•Loves it when you fall asleep on him.

•Tries his best to protect you.

•Nicknames for you: Babe, honey, boo, baby, my princess.

•Nicknames for him: Baby, my love, honey, sweetie, sweets, my prince, Anger issues 2.0.(a joke ofc)

•Gets super nervous around you though.

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

(Story :

As you were walking around the forest holding your boyfriends hand. Talking about the different types of birds, flowers, and trees there were.

As you continued to walk you noticed how he stopped to see a butterfly landing on you. Well on a clip in your hair, making it look like it was the clip.

'How beautiful' he mumbled blushing slightly.

"Huh?, what did you say, baby?" You asked

"Just how beautiful you are." He said looking at you so lovingly.

"Aww, baby!" You said now hugging him.

"H-huh?" He stuttered a bit confused now.

"I love you." You said kissing his cheek.

He was now completely blushing. He was more red than an apple.

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Muichiro Tokito ( you are 14)

•Forgets you two are dating.

•But always smiles at you.

•Still has a crush on you though. (Like he forgets about you then he just feels butterflies in his stomach, then he confesses the rembears you two are dating)

•He is very greatful for you.

•Talks to you about his past.

•Loves to fall asleep on your chest.

•Loves to be held.

•Loves to look at clouds with you.

•picks flowers for you.

•Nicknames for you: Babe, flower, honey, my baby, love.

•Nicknames for him: My babe, baby, my love, honey, memory boy, boo.

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

As you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend, to the special place just on top of the hill, to go cloud gazing. He was talking about his latest mission.

As you both got to the top of the hill, he stopped talking, seeing you lay down a blanket so your outfit didn't get grass or dirt stains on it.

"You are really pretty." He said laying down next to you.

"Aww, thanks baby." You said kissing his cheek.

As you laid down you started to talk about anything and everything, with him.

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Obanai Iguro ( you are 21)

•Will take his mask off around you. (It has to be years before he does though)

•If he trusts you enough he will talk about his past.

•His snake loves you.

•lets you pet his hair.

•lets you wear his uniform.

•Hates when you go on missions, especially with giyu.

•Buys you a bunch of stuff.

•Will give you food.

•Gets you flowers.

•Nicknames for you: Babe, honey, sweetie.

•Nicknames for him: snake boi, babe, love, honey, my king.

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

As you walked through the forest, after the argument with zenitsu. He was acting out like he always did, and it caused an argument between you guys.

But as you were walking, you felt a pair of eyes following your every move. As you turned around you seen your dear boyfriend.

"What's wrong?" He asked sounding grumpy.

"Zenitsu was acting out about a mission." You explained.

"About what?" He asked.

"The mission was a demon in the village down North, and he was trying to protect me even though I'm a harisha, which was annoying." You explained some more.

"Okay, I'll talk to him, love you babe." He said hugging you

"Bye, love" you said hugging him back.

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Sanemi Shinazugawa(you are 21)

•Will let you kiss his scars.

•Loves it when you rub his shoulders.

•Is a bit softer with you. (In private)

•Loves to hold you.

•Hates when you talk to giyu.

•Hates when you leave for a mission.

•Nicknames for you: babe, sweets, princess, queen, baby.

•Nicknames for him: Baby, king, prince, angry boi.

•lets you pet his hair.

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As you were walking back to your boyfriends home, with his brother right next to you.

"Are you sure about this?" His brother genya asked

"It'll be fine." You said patting his shoulder.

"Okay." He said.

As you knocked on his door, your boyfriend slightly opened the door, he looked exhausted.

"Hey, babe!" You said cheery.

"Hey." He said.

"Hi.." His brother said.

"Hello." He said.

As he opened the door wider, letting you both in. As you all sat down, letting the warmth take you in, as it was cold outside.

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Giyu Tomioka( you are 21)

•Dose not talk about you.

•Nobody even knew you two were dating, until you kissed him after a mission.

• shinobu teases you for it.

•Talks a lot in private.

•Loves to cuddle in private.

•Trains with you. (So you can protect yourself)

•Loves to get you flowers.

•Nicknames for you: Babe, princess, My love.

•Nicknames for him: Baby, my blue eyed prince, my baby, love, honey.

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As you walked toward your dear boyfriend, as he just got back from a mission and you wanted to check his scars and scratches before the meeting.

"Hey love" you said hugging him.

"Hey, princess" he said looking down at you.

As you started to walk away with him towards your house, to check him up and get him food. You noticed shinobu walking towards you.

"Hey, shinobu" you said bowing a little.

"Hello" she said bowing back. As you walked away you heard her giggle, as you noticed everyone was looking at you.

"They know." He said

"I know, but I don't care." You said.

"I love you" he said kissing your forehead.

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

Tengen Uzui ( you are 22)

•Loves to show you off.

•You are his first wife.

•Will spoil you.

•Makes you feel more loved then anyone else.

• You did have a discussion about the other wives.(& how it would effect you two.)

•you two still go out together, just the two of you.

•Your old ring broke in a mission?

•A bigger one is now on your ring finger.

•i feel like he would have a picture of you and him above a fireplace. (Your wedding picture).

•Loves to get you flowers.

•Loves to star gaze with you.

•Nicknames for you: My queen, my love, baby, babe, honey.

•Nickbames for him: My king, my baby, Lord tengen, love.

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

As you walked back towards your husbands house, you started to feel nervous, because it was time for the talk.

He wanted another wife. You didn't know how to feel about it. It felt like he wanted to replace you, but if he did wouldn't he divorce you? Probably.

It was a lot of work to work up the courage to talk about this. But as you got closer you seen three other women. That you didn't know.

"Hey, babe!" He yelled.

"W-who are they..?" You asked

"Our new wives!" He yelled smiling forgetting about the talk.

"O-oh." You said sounding disappointed in him, it wasn't their fault because they didn't know how this worked. But it hurt.

"See ya." You said leaving.

"Is she okay?" One of the ladies said

"Yeah, is she Lord tengen?" A different one said.

"She is fine" he said smiling it off.

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

End : Dating some of the demon slayer characters.

A/n: I honestly thought that haikyuu would have won and I started that and this won, so here this is. I hope you enjoyed reading this.

Do you like the little stories? Idk if I do or not.

See ya in my next post!

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corpsebasil · 1 year

Text

Moon Summoner 18+

The sister of the Sun Summoner and the prince of Ravka have history, and his engagement is something neither of them want.

@themermaidscales82

It had been days since your sister’s engagement to the prince of Ravka, your joy at being reunited with your younger sibling overshadowed by a sudden irritation that grated on you at every turn.

He had been your friend, once. But things had changed since he’d come back with Alina, and whatever good graces had used to simmer between you were now replaced by a constant war of bitching at one another, angry looks across rooms, and a tense silence that occurred when Alina left you two alone for more than a second.

He didn’t understand where things had gone wrong. He’d come back with the Summoner and proposed in what was clearly a political alliance, and you had a boyfriend. A godsdammned boyfriend. His blood had boiled when he’d seen the handsome Grisha man wrap his arms around you, your giggle so girlish and amused you had to be acting.

And when he’d moved towards you, smiling in greeting, nothing but an icy expression of hate had clouded your features. It had wrenched something inside him, making it difficult to breathe. So, he’d finally confronted you, cornering you after what he’d overheard some female Grisha gossiping was the cutest picnic they’d ever witnessed on the Palace lawns.

“Oh no.” You started, pleasant expression souring as you watched the prince approach. “Don’t start. I was having a good day for once.”

“Why are you with him?” Nikolai demanded, and you let out a surprised bark of laughter; of all the things he could’ve opened the conversation with, you never would’ve guessed that.

“Why do you care?” You rolled your gorgeous eyes, walking past, your unbound dark hair tumbling down your back. Nikolai had always thought your hair was more raven’s blue than black, and was proved right when the Sun hit it through the palace windows. Gods he was obsessed with your hair and the scent of lavender that clung to it. Alina was beautiful, but to him, you were stunning. “Don’t you have my sister to warm your bed, Nikky?”

“She isn’t—she isn’t warming my bed, Saints above.”

“But she will. Once you’re married, she will, and I’ll get to watch with absolute joy as you pop out cute little babies.” You stopped, tapping a nail against your pursed lips. “I wonder what a Starkov and Lantsov baby would look like.” Then you smirked. “Hopefully they look more like Alina and I than you.”

Nikolai didn’t argue, not when your heart-stopping features were for once not glaring up at him. But the idea of Alina—he barely repressed a shudder.

“Nice picnic?” He asked, switching gears, and your smile dropped again.

“Saints save me.”

“He looks like a prick. You should date someone more worthy of your attention than a lowly Grisha nobody.”

“What like you?” You snapped, defensiveness rising. He had left. Left. And he hadn’t even asked you to go with him when he decided to galavant around the world. So he didn’t have a single iota of a say in who you dated, or who shared your bed. “In your damn dreams, prince.”

“You can’t be serious. He’s boring, he’s—”

“I love him. So why don’t you stop fucking with me and leave me. Alone.”

“You’re not in love.” Nikolai scoffed, grabbing your arm as you turned to go. “Trust me, sweetheart. I know what you look like when you actually want someone. So you can stop lying to me.”

“You don’t know a thing about me.” You moved closer to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Not a thing.”

“I know this,” Nikolai said, eyes dark and unamused. “I know that pissing me off is fun for you. I know that I annoy you so much it makes you want to have sex with me.”

“Stop it.” You smacked at his chest, and he caught your wrist, yanking you an inch closer. Close enough to kiss. “Nikolai. Stop.”

"Admit it." He urged, raising an arrogant brow. "Admit you want me and I'll let go."

Your blood rushed in your veins but you spoke anyway, unable to let him win this stupid, stupid fight.

"If you don't let go of me," you hissed, glaring. "I will kill you."

“And what would your Sun-loving sister have to say about you murdering her future husband?”

“I’d tell her you were sexually harassing me in the hallway and that you deserved it.”

The ire faded from his eyes and he let you go, casting a glance to the heavens as if he was sending up a quick prayer. Then he looked back at you, face softening, and dipped his head once before walking off.

“That’s it?” You called after him, and he turned, still walking backwards as he slammed a nail into the coffin of your own making.

“Clearly I misjudged your feelings towards me. I won’t make that mistake again.”

And when he left, truly left, you felt something fragile in your chest begin to crack.

Your boyfriend had known something was off the moment he saw you in your rooms preparing for the party that night, your anger a silent cloud of smoke billowing around your head. Alina had been trying to convince you to use your power for days, the Moon’s twin to her own sunshine, but you had sworn off Grisha training long ago, preferring the calmness of a normal life as compared to a Saint’s.

You hadn’t been pushed, either, when a week after you’d arrived at the palace you’d blinded the man who attempted to force you into training. No one made that mistake again. Alina had come by to see you after your fight with Nikolai, demanding why he was in such a bad mood and begging you to play nice in front of the guests that night. And when she’d brought up your power, beginning the same spiel about how the two of you were stronger together, you’d practically bitten your little sister’s head off.

You regretted the harsh things you said the moment you saw her lip tremble, excusing herself from your chambers. So now you were pissed at Nikolai, still confused by his behavior and…have sex with him. That’s what he’d accused you of wanting. And damn you if your face didn’t flush at the prospect, knowing from the time before he’d left what a skilled kisser the prince happened to be.

“Y/N?” The Grisha that entered your room called out, his expression confused. “What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t—” your clamped your teeth down on the words. Nikolai had jarred you, that was all. But still, the words left your mouth, and you hated yourself, hated yourself for how many people you’d hurt today with your brashness. “I don’t think this is working. I don’t know if I can be in a relationship right now. Not with—with you.”

The boy was quiet for a long moment, then nodded, something like understanding washing over his face as his cheeks reddened.

“I get it.” He sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. “He’s a prince, so.”

“What?” You snapped, turning in your chair, but to the Grisha’s credit he didn’t flinch, not as he held a small box out to you. “He asked me to give you this. He apologized to me in the hall for…for being passive aggressive. Said it wasn’t about me and,” he let out a soft laugh. “I’m a guy, Y/N. I can tell when someone’s wound up over someone.”

Your words failed you as he handed you the box. The power move you’d just played into made you feel a bit sick. Nikolai apologized, gave your boyfriend a present to give you, and then you dumped him? You could almost see Nikolai’s amused grin in your mind, and the way he’d laugh when he realized he’d won the fight without hardly trying. You’d unintentionally proved him right.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, but the boy just smiled sadly and left, shutting your door quietly behind him. You swallowed and looked down at the box, taking a bracing breath before opening the lid.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting—a scorpion, a bomb, what—but it definitely wasn’t the necklace that laid on a bed of velvet, the emerald hanging from the end so stunning it almost stole your breath. And under, written in his princely handwriting, was a note.

My Y/N,

I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say besides that.

- N.

The party was in full swing by the time you made it inside, immediately grabbing the nearest flute of champagne and knocking it back. The necklace, stunningly beautiful against your chest, was slightly cold against your heated skin.

You scanned the crowd then yelped when Alina grabbed your hand, pulling you into a quick hug.

“I’m sorry,” she said, doe eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have pushed you about Summoning. I know you don’t like it and—”

“No.” You squeezed her tightly, that face and build that was similar to your own, and pulled back to smile. “I’m sorry. I should never have treated you like that.”

She smiled gratefully, looking stunning in her own gown, but paused, looking at you with a note of confusion.

“Where’s um—gods what was his name?”

“We’re done.” Was all you said, your smile falling a bit.

Alina opened her mouth to say more, but a courtier asked her to dance, and she shot you one last meaningful look before accepting. The two of you would talk later. Later would be when you could vent to her. But for now, you felt a presence at your side, not touching you, and it was as if your very soul recognized him before you looked up.

“I see you got the gift.” He said simply, eyeing the jewel that hung from your neck. “It looks beautiful on you.”

“Nik,” you sighed, turning to face him. “can we please not fight anymore? I’m exhausted of this.”

“A cease-fire, darling?” He raised his brows, but a glimmer of hope was building in his eyes. He looked ridiculously handsome in his suit, blue eyes soft as they watched you. “Not your style, but I’ll accept your surrender.”

You smirked and tugged your white handkerchief out of your pocket, waving it once in a comical manner as a boyish laugh left him. He snatched it up, tucking it in his own pocket as you protested, a smile pulling at your mouth.

“Theres the smile I love.” He teased, and your face fell a bit. He quickly added, “I’m keeping your flag of surrender. Lest I need to remind you of it, later.”

“Insufferable. All you men are insufferable.”

“Too insufferable to dance with?”

“Saints. Fine. Lead the way, Prince Charming.”

Nikolai’s low chuckle jabbed at an emotion inside you that you hadn’t entertained in years, the feeling growing more and more as he took your hand gently in his and moved the two of you onto the dance floor. You danced in peaceful calm for several minutes, then allowed the prince to lead you into the next song, and the next.

He was definitely breaking all sorts of court etiquette rules, especially when the woman he was holding hostage was his fiancée’s sister, but Nikolai didn’t give a shit. You finally weren’t trying to flay him alive and…gods. He’d missed you. Hadn’t wanted to put you in danger years ago when he fled. Hadn’t wanted to take you away from your Grisha, not if your mind changed about practicing and you might very well be what Ravka needed to tear down the fold.

But you were as stubborn as ever, to his delight, and hadn’t let anyone push you around. Not where your own life was concerned.

“He and I, we…” you trailed off after a moment, feeling Nikolai’s grip on you tighten a fraction before you spoke. “I left him. You were right, for once in your life.” Your teasing note fell flat, especially when you looked up at him and found his expression to be torn between what seemed like regret and relief.

“Was I right about more than that?” He asked, his tone also not hitting the part for the joke he was making, and you let out a half-hearted laugh.

“Sure, Nik. All I want is to sneak out of here and tear all your clothes off.” You grinned, but then felt your face warming as the truth of your words was a bit too obvious. But Nikolai either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, because his hand reached up to casually brush a tendril of hair behind your ear.

“I wanted you to come with me.” He said, brow furrowing, and your smile dropped from your face. “Alina isn’t—she isn’t—” his expression changed into one agonized enough for your own heart to ache, especially as his next words cleaved you in half. “I want to marry a Starkov. But not her.”

You stepped back, eyes shuttering as you stared at the prince, at your old friend, at the man who riled you up and made you laugh and pissed you off and—

You couldn’t stay.

You turned and left, not even stopping to say goodbye to Alina before you’d ducked out of the hallway, something in your chest tearing in two at his words. Marry him. Marry him. Alina was going to marry Nikolai, and you couldn’t— A choked sound left your mouth as you ducked into the closest room, slamming the door to an oversized broom closet behind you.

And when the first broken sob pushed past your lips, you sank onto the ground, one hand clutched around the necklace at your throat. It was all a waste of time. The years missing him, the days of sparring with him—wasted time. Not when you could’ve been enjoying his company, rekindling your friendship.

But it might’ve been just that much harder to watch your sister walk down the aisle if you allowed yourself to feel for him again. Especially if the way you felt now, like your world was collapsing, was a preview of that event. So you stayed in the closet, crying until you managed to catch your breath, and then headed to your rooms to bed.

Nikolai was sitting on your couch when you entered and you froze, hand stilling on the doorknob as you looked at him. He glanced up, eyes rimmed with red, and smiled weakly at the sight of you.

“My favorite Starkov.” He said by way of greeting, taking in your tear-stained face with an expression of pain. “What is it?”

You couldn’t hold back your words, not when the champagne was going to your head and you’d just wept over him for longer than you’d liked.

“Don’t marry her.” You pleaded, shutting the door and leaning against it. “Please, Nikolai. If you marry her I’ll be stuck with you forever on the sidelines and I can’t handle—” you gasped as a shot of pain ran through you so hard you almost broke, and he stood, stepping over to you in a few easy strides.

“Y/N,” he whispered, clasping your face in his hands. “Please don’t cry. I can’t take it.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Your face crumpled as you looked at him, looked at your friend you cared so much for, and his own expression was just as ruined. “I can’t help but—” You wanted to say it. Love you. But if you told him that truth you’d never be able to go back. Would rather die than admit that and watch him marry Alina. “Nikolai, I can’t—”

“I love you.” He said, almost as if he couldn’t get the words out fast enough, and your heart seized in your chest when he lowered his head and kissed you. Your eyes shut before you could stop yourself, and then you were pushing him away, eyes widening with horror.

“Don’t.” You whispered, pain cleaving you in half. “Please don’t.”

“I do. I love you.”

“Nikolai—”

“From the moment we met. The moment you blinded that asshole of an instructor. The moment you kissed me in that tavern. I haven’t forgotten. Not your spirit or your beauty or—”

“Nikolai.” Your voice was a plead, even as you gripped his coat, holding him close to you. “Nikolai she’s my sister. I cant.”

“She doesn’t love me. Not like you do.”

“I don’t—”

“Please don’t ruin this.” He sighed, planting another dizzying kiss against your mouth. “Please. I cannot imagine my life without you. That is not a life I want to live. I’ll go to my grave before loving anyone else, because you are the only person I could imagine myself loving forever.”

“Nik, I don’t..” your throat tightened as you looked at him, at those handsome features you’d well past memorized. “Ravka is more important. Ravka is more important than how I feel.”

“I don’t care about Ravka. Not more than you.” He practically hissed, blue eyes boring down into yours. “I want you. I’ll give up my crown. Give up everything, just—just love me. Because if I go one more day without you I’m going to lose my mind.” He sighed and pressed his brow against yours, feeling your hands trail up to grasp his neck. “You are my star and my Sun. You are the breeze that touched me when we were apart. You are—”

You cut him off with a crushing kiss, almost knocking him over as you pushed him backwards onto the couch. He gripped your hips and groaned against you when you yanked at his trousers, wanting more contact, more, especially when his hands ran up your bare legs and practically ripped off your underwear.

“Just one night.” You swore, voice hoarse as you looked at him.

“It’s not enough.” He argued, but let out a gravelly moan when you managed to free him from his clothing and sank down on top of him. “Holy—”

But there was absolutely nothing holy about it. Not when you two grasped each other desperately, every inch of you burning as he thrust up inside you, your moans echoing against the walls as you felt him. Saints he was—and the feel of him was—

“Nikolai.” You gasped, burying your face in his neck, especially as he rolled you both over and fucked you against the couch, every gasp and moan pulled from your mouth music to his ears.

“God, I love you.” He whispered against your skin, pushing at your dress to take it off, his hips still rolling against your own. You moaned as he bit down on the skin of your shoulder, then licked the offended area. “Y/N.”

Dear gods.

You could barely breathe as he pushed into you, especially when you came, his fingers rubbing at your clit as he fucked you. But then you were moving, his strong arms carrying you to your bed, and he kissed you over and over as he thrust into you lazily, grinning against your neck when he brought you to orgasm again.

Afterwards, when his mouth was pressing soft kisses against your neck and bare shoulder, you turned to face him. Brown eyes met blue as you took him in, took in the planes of his face and the loving expression in his eyes.

“Do you really love me?” You questioned, combing your fingers through his hair. You were still a bit stunned by his confession, even if it mirrored how you felt, too.

“With every fiber of my being.” He sighed, closing his eyes at your touch. “I will break off the engagement.” Before you could protest he gave you a deadly serious look, eyes never leaving your own. “I refuse to put a ring on anyone else’s hand. I will crawl on my knees for you. I will beg you until we’re old if that’s what you want. But I will marry you, Y/N.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until he brushed away your tears with his hand, leaning forward to kiss your brow.

“So much energy wasted fighting when I could’ve been fucking your lights out every night since I came back.”

You snorted and smacked his shoulder, earning an affectionate grin.

“Go to sleep, Prince Charming.” You murmured, setting against his chest as he looped his arms around you, beckoning you both into a peaceful sleep.

I have no words BYE

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #wattpad #nikolai lantsov x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone imagine #nikolai x reader #fluff #smut #nikolai lantsov smut

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syrma-sensei · 2 years

Text

→ A Doe's Trap.

gif credit.

pairing: daemon targaryen x baratheon!reader.

rating: explicit.

word count: 3.9k

warning: daemon targaryen is a warning himself, usual westerosi agendas.

PART II: A GOLDEN LOCK.

masterlist | ao3

COURT IS INFINITELY BORING; the flashing red colour on the outside walls is merely a clever cover for the ennui of what's happening inside. And the Small Counsel is, Seven Hells, dreadfully, the most tedious place one can choose to spend time in. King Viserys, however, is persistent on having his younger brother in his counsel. His Grace has given his orders and nobody, not even the Rogue Prince, can refuse his liege's commands.

Nevertheless, even his royal duties and counsel obligations get habitually interrupted by certain cunts. After several replacements for his job —stirred by those cunts— the prince, eventually, takes the post of the Commander of the City Watch, and he isn't pleased one bit. The supposed city protectors are nothing but lost and lowly scum. But he knows better, that cunt of a Hand wants nothing but to offend the Prince and his potentials, such an elaborated attempt to irritate the hot-tempered prince; the current heir to the Iron Throne is nothing but a mongrels tamer. But if the bearded wanker thinks himself subtle, then he's terribly mistaken, thus, Daemon accepts the challenge. Because after all, if he truly wants to be King someday, conducting with the riff-raff is a good way to prepare himself for the role, rather than transacting with sickly old men who swagger through the glories of their ancestors and making none of their own.

Tonight though, to his bother, he has to take a break from his new duties, for King Viserys has blessed the court with yet another of his many festivities. Queen Aemma, his cousin and sister-in-law, is with child, again. The celebration is held in the Red Keep's grand yard under the full moon's glimmer. And to his surprise, Daemon finds himself rather enjoying himself in the fresh air.

His violet eyes are fixated on the table where the King and Queen are seated, two vacant chairs next to them. One is his, and the other is Rhaenyra's, his beloved niece. His gaze, however, is not, by any chance, drawn to the royal couple, rather, the ones who escort the Queen. That specific one, with the blue eyes and dark hair. The Baratheon Lady, his precious doe.

She stands next to her queen as one of her most trusted ladies-in-waiting. With a bright mind, and pure soul she has captured the hearts of most men, and the Prince is no exception. The niece of Lord Boremund Baratheon is sent by her lord uncle to represent their house at court in her aunt's stead, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, Prince Aemon's widow. Once the Prince saw her, she stirred something familiar within him. Something he thought he'd not feel as he fucked his way through almost every whore of the Street of Silk. The place that provides him maidens whenever he desires to claim their innocence. What's better than a whore maiden but a paramount and maiden lady?

Virtuous isn't a word one can label Daemon Targaryen with. Rather, the Rogue Prince has an equivocal proclivity for those of virtue, of purity. He cannot brush off the image of that beautiful doe clinging to his shoulders and sobbing in delight beneath him, while he rams inside her virgin hole as he deflowers her. He fantasizes her calling his name as she willingly gives herself to him, as he fucks Mysaria in the recent days, and his high would be unmatched. The only thing can outdo it is having the doe herself in his bed.

The doe senses his heavy gaze, and her sapphires lock with his amethysts, and she tries to hide her sheepish smile. Gods be good, he can't decide wether he likes that smile of hers, or the cries she'd be making when he's inside of her. His predatory eyes follow her slender figure after she dips in courtsy for the King and Queen, excusing herself. He traces her golden gown, the one he'll have much pleasure ripping it off of her and see what she's treasuring beneath it.

“Good evening, Prince Daemon.” The doe bows to him, then he sees clear blue eyes looking straight into his, the plumping heart between his ribs skips for a moment, “Congratulations on your new office!”

“Why, thank you, Lady Baratheon.” His tone is solemn.

“Please do not call me as such,” The doe bites on her lower lip adorably, “We're much more familiar with one another.”

Ah, the red cheeks, they're definitely his favourite, and perhaps what's more delightful is making them grow redder.

“Much more familiar? Hmm.” Daemon teases, “Then why did you not come and congratulate me when I first got appointed as the Commander of the City Watch, my lady?”

Daemon's grin goes wider as his tiny trick makes her cheeks flush with dark crimson.

Tearing her face aside, she says under her breath hotly, “Gods,” Then her eyes are staring back at his face again, adding hastily, “I'm terribly sorry, my Prince! The instant I heard of the marvelous news I looked for you everywhere to do so, but...”

Her blue eyes dart everywhere but his face now. Daemon purses his lips into thin line, tugging a dark lock behind her ear. “But what, my lady?” His tone is bored, unamused, supposedly.

“Please, let me explain, Your Grace.” He nods, granting her her wish. “I did want to be the first to congratulate you. But when I couldn't find you anywhere, they told me you're making new arrangements for the City Watch; to ameliorate the state of the soldiers.” She adds breathlessly, and Daemon can clearly imagine her breathing heavily after he sends to her highest high. “So, I presumed you were occupied with much more important matters, and I couldn't bring myself to take from your valuable time.”

Oh, isn't she delightful? So sweet, so caring. Does he deserve such consideration? Of course not. Should he take it? An absolute yes. How not? And she's practically showering him with it.

Daemon twists his lips, grinning. “In that regard, I should forgive you, my lady. But on one condition.”

“Name it.” Her answer comes immediately.

Ah, he does like those moments when her Baratheon blood rises, when she shows signs of challenging and daring, and the confident feature she wears is truly pretty.

So, Daemon indulges her. “I want you to honour me with a dance, my lady.”

“A dance?” She arches a dark brow quizzically, shockingly.

“Does it not rise to the doe's expectations?” He teases her again.

And for the second time, it remarkably works. “Did I give such an insinuation to the dragon?” The way her brow switches from puzzled to intrepid puts the Prince under a charm. The irony, how effortless and unintentional her gestures are, but oh, the way she wraps him around her beautiful fingers. How bewitching she is.

“It is said that dancing is much similar to battling.” She adds, “I dare not stand against you in the second, but dare I say, I enjoy doing the first with you. It is a sliver of reminiscent of what fighting by your side might be like on the battlefield.”

It's Daemon's turn to raise an eyebrow. “You wish to dance with a dragon, little doe?”

“Yes, very much so.” She says it with utmost thrill.

“Even if it might get you burned?” He asks her, eyes glistening with something menacing, but the doe does not see it.

“He won't hurt me.” The certainty in her eyes makes Daemon's head whirl. Perhaps he isn't the only one under a charm.

“What you speak is true.” His smile is gentle this time, and what he speaks is also true. Lust did indeed blind him at first, and the desire to defile her has driven him mad for quite some time. But no, after getting to know this doe, his delicious prey, he cannot bring himself to hurt her. But has his craving for claiming her ceased within him? Not once. It's been like raging fire, huddling and jostling in his chest, and taking hold of his head. It's like a curse afflicted upon him. He's no patient man, and the gods have put him in a laborious test. But again, since when the gods are indulgent with man? But Daemon Targaryen is as unyielding as them as well. And he'll be so until the gods get bored of him and give him what he wants. Daemon, however, won't wait for gods to get lenient. He shall take it by himself.

They dance, the dragon and the doe. And the shy lady is back again as her face turn red as she is spinning between the Prince's arms, holding his hands. Their feet move in such harmony with the music, and they capture everyone's eyes. Her face is close, so close to his, and hers is as dark as blood. Her fresh breathing is on his face, and the dragon inside him goes feral. He wants her. Gods, He utterly and wholly wants her.

The music comes to a stop, and a cheered applause rages from around them. King Viserys is the strongest clapper, and the Queen shakes her head at her husband's excessive excitement.

The dancing comes to a pause, and the King raises a toast, and the feast for all is set. The guests eat, drink, and laugh. The King gets drunk soon enough, and the Queen becomes tired. Viserys keeps on drinking, while Aemma retires to her chambers to rest. The Prince is next to his brother and niece, thinking of the doe who's nibbling on her food ever so delicately.

It is a rare thig she is, to be born a Baratheon and have a tender character. It's known that the stags are of vigorous spirits and adventurous endeavour. But unlike her house and himself, she seems quite enjoying herself at King's Landing's court. That, however, does not nullify the hints of fury within her soul. She's a daughter of a stag after all, and stags have always attracted the eyes of dragons; his great-grandmother, Queen Dowager Alyssa Velaryon, married Rogar Baratheon, lord paramount of Storm's End, their wedding is known as the Golden Wedding. And Daemon's cousin, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, is half Baratheon herself from her mother's side, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon. Daemon still remembers how Caraxes was enthralled by his doe when they first introduced them to eachother; she has Valyrian blood after all. He smiles at the memory, she has the dragon and his rider enchanted.

“You're quite taken by her, uncle.” Daemon's ears prick at Rhaenyra's High Valyrian.

“Quite the woman she is.” He replies in their mother tongue.

“Indeed.” She nods. “She is quite taken by you as well.”

That piques his interest, his niece has all of his attention now. “Oh, really? How did you learn that, Princess?”

Rhaenyra chuckles. “Oh, uncle, you have no idea how much smitten she is with you.”

Trying to conceal the curiosity eating him up, he clears his throat. “How so?”

“You have a reputation, uncle.” Rhaenyra remarks, “But the lady refuses to believe it exists, claiming that she knows you better. She sees you as her knight in shining armour.”

A queer sensation clasps on the Prince's heart. And for a moment, he feels as if someone has kicked the air out of his lungs. He directs a wavering smile to his niece.

“How unfortunate.” Then he falls silent, and speaks very little for the rest of the night.

After an hour of feasting, the music replays, and a merry yet drunken enrapture sweep over the place. From his seat, Daemon looks for his doe and he finds her laughing at some stupid jest cracked by Ser whoever the fuck he is. When their eyes lock again, she smiles at him sweetly, but he doesn't return it. Instead, he stands up, and maneuvers his way through the drunken singing and wobbly dancing.

It was an ill decision to come here from the outset, but what choice he had when the King forces him to attend the banquet that's held in the next royal's honour. The one might brush him off from his current line to the throne. Daemon, sometimes, thinks that his brother taunts him deliberately, and perchance he's pulled by other hands.

He directs his indignation upon his royal brother as he threads his way to his private chambers; where he's going to drink himself till sleep, and maybe giving his cock a hand-fucking before falling asleep. Momentarily, he thinks of visiting Mysaria, but no. He needs some solitude away from everyone else.

Once in his chambers, he shrugs off his formal attire and slips into more comfortable clothing. Before he starts his drinking session, he hears soft knocks on the door; he grumbles. Perhaps the one behind the door wants to be the victim of his wrath tonight.

Striding down to the door, he opens it sharply. He freezes.

“Prince Daemon.”

Gods, how does she do it? Putting off that raging fire within him onto ice just like that. Mayhaps she is an enchantress after all.

“Lady (Y/N).” He responds.

“Is everything alright, my Prince?” The concern in her eyes tugs the strings of his heart.

“Yes.” For the first time, Daemon finds his lying unconvincing. Seven Hells.

“Then why did you leave the feast in such manner?” The doe inquires, brows knitted, “You made the King worry.”

Of course, she came here upon an order by his brother.

“You made me worry.”

Daemon regards her, then he retreats back to his chambers, leaving the door open. A private invitation for her to follow him inside which she obliges to.

“What caused you distress, my Prince?” The eager concern in her voice makes him melt. A strange mixture of sensations coil at the tip of his stomach. It is the first time she comes to his private chambers, and he feels as if he led her into a trap. The poor doe, she doesn't know she just entered the dragon's den, and in his current state, he has no guarantee of what he might do next. He is mad.

“You.” Daemon spins around and faces her, she stands a few steps away from him. “You cause me distress.”

Gasping, her dainty hand rises to her now heaving chest, and her blue eyes widen. “How could I ever do so?” Daemon takes a step towards her, and her eyes are focused on his figure. “My Prince, I implore you to—”

Seven Hells. His doe can be annoying when she becomes rather talkative, sometimes. And it is a perfect moment to silence her in the way he most desired; his lips on hers. And oh, they are much more delectable than he ever imagined, and he could've sworn he can sip wine from them.

The doe stands still, eyes as wide as saucers, as he claims her lips as if he is the thirstiest man alive. When realization casts upon her at last, she pushes him away. Daemon whips his mouth looking at her. She's horrified.

“Do forgive me.” Daemon looks at the floor, not bearing to gaze at her scared face. “But I've been wanting to do this for a long while.”

When she doesn't answer; he dares look up at her face again. A more questioning expression adorns her face instead of the terrified one moments ago. She doesn't flee, nevertheless. Which is a good sign, Daemon supposes. He narrows the gap between them, cautious steps as if he's afraid that the doe to run off.

“I desire you.” He confesses, “Gods, you're the one I lust for the most.” His hands reach for her reddened cheeks. “I want to have you. Let me have you... please.”

“How can I let you have me, and we're not wedded, Daemon?” He sees two thin strings of tears rolling down her cheeks. She tears her face aside. “Gods, they warned me about you.” She sobs, “They told me to steer clear of you, but I didn't listen.” A hand covers her mouth. “The Queen even promised my lord uncle to match me with another to prevent your dark reputation raising questions about my virtue.”

Any ounce of sense left in him until this very instance is blown away now. The Prince's hands latch onto her forearms, and he draws into a vicious kiss. He tastes the salt in her tears and he's fuming.

“You're mine.” He whispers against her mouth, “Mine. You belong to the dragon, and anyone dares to think of having you, they'll have to deal with fire and blood.”

“Daemon, please...” She cries. “I do not want it.”

The Prince cradles her face softly, his hot breath licking her face. “Tell me, what do you really want, little doe?” He brushes the tears away, “Tell me what you wish for and I shall grant it for you.”

His fragile doe gulps, looking at him with the eyes of a prey begging for mercy between its predator's jaws. “Do not allow us to be separated.” She weeps, and her heart feels heavy.

“No, no, little doe,” He says in whisper, “Not a single soul can separate us, my little doe. Give yourself to me. Let me corrupt you...” He inhales, he's almost begging, “Let me defile you, and they'll have no choice but to let us be.” He leans to her ear, adding, “Let me fill your belly with my child.”

“Do not let another have me, my dragon, please.” She clutches into his chest, beseechingly.

Daemon's violet eyes dart over her face, before he plunders her lips again. His hands adroitly baring her, layer by layer, until she stands naked before him. Through her blurred mind, the realization of her nakedness casts upon her. She gasps and tries covering herself.

Daemon, on the other hand, laughs, shaking his head with such amusement. “Do not shy away now, little doe.” He makes her lay down on his bed, removing her hands from the parts she attempts to hide. “Let me see your beauty.”

Daemon has to pin her hands on the either sides of her head to make submit to his request. He looks at her body, and she turns redder and hotter than Caraxes's fire.

He has to admit, she exceeds any fantasy he ever had. And now she's all his to claim. The Seven be fucked, this is the one who deserves worshiping, perhaps she is The Maiden herself, and mayhaps he can be her Warrior.

“Fuck.” Daemon hisses, “You're beyond anything I've ever imagined.”

“Daemon...” Her voice is breathless, “I-I feel queer things in my stomach.”

The Prince laughs again, kissing her temple. “They are good things, my lady, worry not.”

She nods, unsure of what might happen next. Daemon isn't going to disappoint her. Although the strain in his loins is unbearable, he takes his time to spread what he dares to call... affections upon her. His rough-padded fingers massage her shoulders, his lips lavish her erected nipples, and his mouth leaves no spot of her soft skin neglected.

When his fingers reach her core to fondle, she asks him about the moistened sensation. He shushes her, and tells her it's normal and a good sign. He brushes her clit and her moans become uncontrollable, he enters a digit and she screams.

Daemon laughs and grins as she's innocently grinding against his fingers, chasing something building inside her belly, she tells him. He adds another, then another, and her virgin drawers can take no more and flutter around his fingers with a sigh of his name leaving her mouth.

“Is this why people lay with eachother, my Prince?” She asks when recovers from her high, sweat glistening on her forehead, “Even when they don't want to have children.”

Daemon chuckles amusedly. “People fuck for many reasons, little doe. Pure pleasure is what, sometimes, one only seeks.”

“The Seven forgive me,” She says in something akin to shame, “But I want you to fuck me, Daemon.”

The words, coming off her tongue so effortlessly, make the blood travel straight to his cock.

“It might hurt you, though.” He warns.

“No,” She raises her chin stubbornly, “You won't hurt me.”

Before he gets off the bed, he kisses her. Then, he starts to take off his cotton tunic. He glimpses at her, and he finds her tracing his moves, intrigued. She gulps when he slips his dark trousers off, her pure eyes witnessing a man's cock for the first time in her life.

He chuckles, and cannot let the chance slide without a tease. “You like my small dragon, little doe?”

“I wouldn't call it small, my Prince.”

The latter throws his head backwards as a loud laughter bursts out of his chest. “Yes.” He lands a knee on the bed, dipping further to her face, bringing her hand to touch him. She looks up at him then down at his cock, as her hand faintly brushes the dripping tip. She shivers and he grins. His hand never letting hers crawl away. She gathers some courage when she sees him delighted, and her fingers curl around his cock, squeezing gently as he twitches. Daemon grunts deeply as her inexperienced hand caresses the bulging veins of it, and he feels himself coming. With a groan, he removes her hand away. He didn't want to scare her off with loads of white strings slamming her stomach and face. Rather, he wants it deep inside of her. “Open your legs for me.”

She does so, but uncertainly. He positions himself between his legs, wrapping her legs around his sculpted waist. Inevitable tears pour from her eyes as he thrusts himself into her, and Seven Hells, her virgin cunt feels heavenly. How her walls suck him up greedily even though he's yet to move.

With a hoarse voice, the doe whispers his name over and over, as he takes her slowly while his hair is ghostly brushing her arms around his neck. She cries and begs, and he kisses and reassures her that he'll give her what she wants. She tells him it's building again, and he hits that innocent spot of hers again and again until the fluttering he felt around his fingers is now happening around his cock. He's already at his limits and his seed fills her waving cunt.

“Well done, little doe, well done.” Daemon eases her quivering body.

When he pulls out of her, the Prince is utterly surprised when the doe flips their positions, as she straddles him instead. Their liquids are oozing from between her legs onto his muscled stomach. Shock is blatant on his face as she bites on her lip unsurely.

“What is this, little doe?” He teases, “I supposed this was your first.”

She lolls her head down timidly. “I've always wanted to do this with you, everyday when I look at that painting in the Queen's chambers.”

Daemon is well aware of what picture his doe is referring to. That salacious portrait Queen Aemma has received as a gift from Lys. It's called: The Seven Arts of Love. Perhaps his sister-in-law has kept it as a mockery of the belief of the Seven. He'll never know, or perhaps the Seven made her keep it, so his doe would witness it and mock him with her straddling him on their first night. The notion stirs him to the bone, and his cock is painfully hard now.

“Perhaps another time.” He cups her breasts softly. “This position is not meant for the first time.”

A surprised yelp escapes her mouth as he flips her again beneath him, clicking his tongue. “If you want to ride a dragon, little doe, you have to tame him first.” He leans down, his silver hair dangling over his shoulders, “And believe me, it is not as simple as you might think.”

“We shall see, my dragon, we shall see...”

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sisterdivinium · 5 months

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Warrior Nun x Amon Amarth "Vengeance is My Name"

#warrior nun #ava silva #mother superion #areala #you absolutely need to listen to the song to understand the this is my sword part. it goes: THIS! IS! MY! SWORD!#you people with your taylor swift and hozier and ames... meanwhile i think wn is pure metal #(granted maybe not viking metal but this idea has been in my mind forever)#(emylilas suggested i made a video edit but i'm no good at that so gifs it is! thanks for the incentive either way my friend)#anyway. trying something a bit different here clearly #sister makes gifs once in a blue moon #gifs and other visuals #this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i guess it's time to release it into the world. be nice now!

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sombredancer · 2 months

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Asian dramas and Love tropes

There are my favorite characters and their love stories as a list. Enemies to lovers

Drama: Her Royal Highness/长公主在上 Characters: Gu Xuanqing x Li Yunzhen Screentime: Main A boy is sent to be a servant in the unruly princess`s palace in order to find some dirt about her and to help his master to overthrown her, but something goes wrong... The HE is attached.

Drama: The Legends/招摇 Characters: Li Chenlan x Lu Zhaoyao Screentime: Main A leader of a demonic sect died trying to get demonic sword. Her soul returns to the world full of wish to get revenge on the current leader of her sect, who, as she thinks, killed her in the past. Found the way to be close to him, she learns that he wasn't the reason of her death and, moreover, desperately in love with her for many-many years. This is an adaptation of the novel "Ostentatious Zhaoyao", which I love more than a drama, but it's a good story in both variants. The HE is attached (although it`s a little bit obscure in the drama).

Drama: Till the End of the Moon/ 长月烬明 Characters: Tantai Jin x Li Susu Screentime: Main A boy who is destined to become a Demon God and to destroy the World tries to fight his doom. In a process, he falls in love with a transmigrator, who was sent 500 years back in the past to prevent his transformation into a Demon God. The irony is,making him falling in love is the only way to kill him for good... It`s an adaptation of the novel "Black Moonlight Holds the BE Script", which I like way-way-way more than the drama, not the least because the drama has BE and the novel has HE. I just watched it as a visually beautiful fanfic to the novel.

Drama: Love Between Fairy and Devil /苍兰诀 Characters: Dongfang Qingcang x Xiao Lanhua Screentime: Main My favorite drama of all times! Trying to save her love, a girl accidently falls into a secret prison for immortal criminals, revives the most fearsome demon of all times and heals his ability to feel. Later, forced to spend his time together with the girl from the enemy camp, the demon finds out that he actually likes her... The HE is attached. I wrote A LOT about them and made recap of the whole drama from the point of their relationship development in these posts: one, two, three, four, five and six.

Drama: My Journey to You /云之羽 Characters: Gong Shangjue x Shangguan Qian Screentime: Secondary In order to destroy the martial artist's clan, a female assassin was sent in there. While she is trying to seduce one of clan's young masters, he tries to expose her lies, but, eventually, falls in love with her. Unrequited. Maybe. This story has an open ending. My analysis of their relationship is here.

Drama: Butterflied lover /风月变 Characters: Ling Changjin x Bao Zhu Screentime: Secondary A wicked nobleman marries a princess because of her miraculous blood: it`s able to bring his zombie sister back to life. The princess allows him to treat her bad because she has been in love with him for a long time and believes he is a good person. Bit by bit he starts believe in it himself and begins to cherish his wife more... The ending is obscure (in a traditional Chinese way).

Drama: The Blue Whisper /与君初相识 Characters: Li Shu x Xue Sanyue Screentime: Minor A cat demon prince infiltrates the valley of demon hunters in order to set free the great demoness, but falls in love with one of demon hunters. Mutually. The ending is traditionally Chinese - they met again in another life. Т_Т

Drama: Immortal Samsara / 沉香如屑 Characters: Xuan Ye x Ran Qing Screentime: Minor An Asura king infiltrates the Heavenly Realm in order to steal the artifact that can help him conquering the world. The keeper of this artefact is a brave and honest goddess and he can't help but fall in love with her. After, he needs to choose: to be with his lover or to rule the world. He wants all at once, but there is no way to get it all. No HE for this pair. Pride and Prejudice

Drama: Lighter and Princess / 点燃我 Characters: Li Xun x Zhu Yun Screentime: Main A girl from a rich family with an anxious type of attachment falls in love with her classmate from a poor family with an avoidant type of attachment and tries to win his heart. It`s a problematic ship in a full meaning of these words and I like it this way. Yummy! The HE is attached.

Drama: Derailment /脱轨 Characters: Qi Lian x Jiang Xiaoyuan Screentime: Main A boy accidently meets his school sweetheart after many years of radio silence and understands that something is wrong with her. It turns out that her body is occupied by a transmigrator from a parallel world. At first he hates transmigrator for replacing his lover, but bit by bit he learns, that a transmigrator has not only the same appearance but the same habits and way of thinking, and falls in love with this new personality again... The story ends with HE but not in a way that you may think it would.

Drama: The Love by Hypnotic /明月照我心 Characters: Li Qian x Li Mingyue Screentime: Main In order to build relationship between two countries an emperor arranges marriage for his son. His fiancée is from a barbaric tribe: she is good at horse riding and archery, but knows nothing about palace etiquette and ladies stuff. It`s a light and sweet story about finding a path to each other's heart. The HE is attached.

Drama: The Long Ballad /长歌行 Characters: Hao Du x Li Leyan Screentime: Secondary A tsundere of a low background with a poker face does his ruthless job in a court, that's why a young princess thinks he is an awful man and is scared of him. But in reality he is a loyal servant and son and, moreover, secretly in love with the princess, who can't stand him... The HE is attached.

Drama: Miss the Dragon /遇龙 Characters: Xue Qianxun x Qingqing Screentime: Secondary A very naïve bird demon girl accidently meets a tsundere god of netherworld and turns his well ordered life into havoc. He starts liking it, though. The HE is attached. Forbidden love

Drama: A Frozen Flower /쌍화점 Characters: Hong Rim x No Guk Screentime: Main A gay king needs a heir, so he forces his lover to conceive a child with a queen. In a process, a boy, who was groomed as a king's lover from his childhood, finds out that he likes women much more than men. A traditional Korean tragedy. Very beautiful and full of feelings, though. (No GIFs because they all would be erotic ones).

Drama: 100 Days My Prince /백일의 낭군님 Characters: Moo-yeon x Kim So-hye Screentime: Secondary An assassin who is working for a wicked court official is secretly in love with a wife of a crown prince, who happens to be a daughter of the killer of his parents. Forbidden love doubles! But it's mutual, unfortunately for him. It's a very beautiful and full of desperation and feelings story. No HE, we die like Koreans. More detailed story of their relationship is available here, here and here.

Drama: The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity/晴雅集 Characters: He Shouye x Zhang Ping Screentime: Secondary A woman, who is destined to restrain the undying evil within her body for eternity in solitude, falls in love with Yin-Yang master. Her love is mutual, but her lover can't be with her forever, so he leaves with her his guardian demon to brighten her loneliness. Protecting her for ever starts being the only goal of demon's life... A tragedy, but a beautiful one.

Drama: The Legends/招摇 Characters: Gu Hanguang x Shen Qianjin Screentime: Minor "The Legends" once more! The main doctor of a demonic sect is in love with a leader of a righteous sect. A girl is not allowed to love anyone, otherwise she will suffer from the poison, so he anonymously sends her packages of medicinal herbs. She is curious about anonymous sender, too. But nothing can be kept in secret forever... Unfortunately, no HE for these two. In the novel he is safe and sound, but he has no love plotline at all. So is a price of love Т_Т.

I will talk about my other favorite characters and tropes in the next post.

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melwilson · 2 years

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deserving

bodyguard!courtland gentry x reader

warnings! mentions of injury and trauma

“you’re late.”

“i know. i’m sorry. got tied up.” the blonde hums as the front door shuts behind you. his eyes raked over your frame to looking for any new bruise or signs of injury. “you didn’t have to wait up for me,” you say as he comes to stand in front of you.

six rolls his eyes, taking the pile of shopping bags from your hands. “it’s my job.”

“i really hope my dad pays well,” you utter under your breath. you don’t mean for him to, but six hears you. he always does. he doesn’t respond though, mind wandering to the offshore swiss bank account that is collecting his check every week. he doesn’t need the money. when he was approached by the balding politician, he was skeptical, but it was an out- a means to the end of sierra six…even if it meant being the personal bodyguard of twenty-year-old you. it wasn’t glamorous, but it allowed him to live without looking over his shoulder and it provided him with more than enough money to take care of claire and himself.

you follow him to your room, watching as he subconsciously checks all the windows and doors that he knows are locked. occupational hazard, he would say. trauma, you would argue.

“i really am sorry for keeping you up this late,” you apologize when your eyes read the time on your bedside analogue clock. half past twelve. “we obviously did some damage,” you gesture towards the shopping bags. “had a couple drinks. lost track of time.” your best friend had suggested a shopping trip. how could you turn it down? six had insisted on going, in fact, if your dad found out that six hadn’t gone, he would lose his mind. however, you convinced the bodyguard that you would only be gone until nine. nine…conveniently turned into twelve thirty.

the glare the blonde gives you is hard enough to make you want to dig an early grave. his blue eyes are intense, staring right through you. “you’re not old enough to drink.”

you brush past him into your closet to change into your usual tee shirt and spandex. “if i can sign up to die for my country, i think i can have a drink every once and awhile.”

court doesn’t argue with your point, he simply replies with, “you should’ve called me, y/n.”

when you exit the closet, you’re met with concerned eyes. “i’m okay, court. one night without you didn’t kill me.” he raises an eyebrow and you send back a begrudging look. “i promise to call next time.”

he nods, satisfied. you both know you are very capable of protecting yourself, but six took your safety seriously. the first month of his stay included you learning about situational awareness and the basics of krav maga. you were strong, more than able to overtake the average sized military aged male. six was hired, however, because the people who wanted to hurt your father were relentless and better than the military. they were men like him. machines. killers. you couldn’t handle yourself against men like him and that is what six was scared of. he cared about you just as much as he cared about claire. and vice versa.

you had taken a liking to your short-lipped, blonde shadow. after a year of him being around, he had become the closest thing you had to family. he had truly seen you at your best and at your worst. he celebrated your birthday with you, listened to you vent about celebrity drama, held you when your sister left, became a punching bag when you were angry. he was the only person who knew where your birthmark was and snuck you out when you wanted to get a new tattoo. the first one had been a crescent moon on your left shoulder. the most recent was the number six permanently etched into the smooth of your wrist. the blonde thought it was a joke and proceeded to lecture you the whole ride home when he realized it wasn’t. he said it was foolish. you thought it was touching. that was your first argument. what he failed to realize was that he was everything your family wasn’t. he was present, available, he listened, made stupid jokes, gave terrible advice, but he was always there for you.

“we’re staying in tomorrow,” six informs heading for your door. he intends to check the the grounds one more time.

“wait.” his shoes making a squeaking sound on your hardwood floors as he stops. “i got you something.”

six watches as you dig through the pile of massive shopping bags on your floor. the first thing you throw at him is a four pack of gum. “island berry lime, watermelon wave, pineapple twist, splashing mint. what happened to perfect wintergreen peppermint?”

“discontinued,” you mutter finally finding what you were actually looking for.

six hums in surprise. “i kinda liked that one.”

“well, i hope you like this a little bit more.” your usual mischievous glint is replaced with one of adoration. six is skeptical, but takes the small black box from your hands. you rock back on your heels, nervous.

“y/n,” six says, “what is this?”

“what do you mean? it’s a watch.”

“a really expensive watch,” he shoots back. hublot, orlinski titanium, $15,000.

“whatever,” you shrug, “look at the back.”

VI ; six

the cardinal number between five and seven.

a small smile creeps onto his lips as he reads the engraving. “what is this for?”

“because i like seeing you smile and because you deserve something better then the crappy one you’re wearing right now.”

the word deserve was one that six battled with. he had never felt deserving of anything in his life. he had always thought that the people he had been sent to hunt truly deserved to die, but what about him? what did he deserve? for years he existed in a world beyond the walls of normal life where the word deserve didn’t exist. but now as a civilian, he could think about the things that he wanted and the life he wanted to live. you were apart of that life- not romantically of course, but rather as a reminder that he deserved good things.

he shakes his head trying to hide his smile and sets down the watch. “c’mere.” you raise a skeptical eyebrow and he insists, “come here.”

he opens his arms and you step into them, humming as he wraps you in his warmth. “thank you,” he utters softly. “i mean it.”

you lean back to place a soft kiss to his jaw. “you deserve it, court.”

#courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry #sierra six x reader #sierra six the gray man #sierra six #courtland gentry blurb #court gentry #ryan gosling the gray man #ryan gosling #lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans #lloyd hansen

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myfandomprompts · 8 months

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𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 | 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟕)

Summary: Close to the line, you have to find a way on the other side. The time where you and Tom will have to part approaches.

Previous Part - Masterlist

Warnings: none.

French spoken -> italics

Tom clutched his jacket around his shoulders, forced to notice that summer nights in France were as unforgiving as they were in England; the humidity falling on their skins sending chills through his spine.

The jacket still smelled like whatever bleach they used at the hospital back in Paris, and the packets inside his pockets only had a few cigarettes left. He had been keeping count, its number diminishing as they approached the crossing line, and the only one he didn’t regret losing was the one he had given you.

“You look like a ghost,” he remarked, eyes on your pale face emphasised by the white light of the moon that shone on the dirt track they were currently walking on. Your eyes were aimlessly looking at the ground and the shawl around your shoulder gave you a mystical aura that had him fascinated.

But regardless how spellbound he was, Tom was genuinely still worried about you.

“Hum… Thank you?” you answered, tilting your head in his direction, making him smile internally.

Oh, don’t worry, love, you still look bloody beautiful.

“Have you had some water?” Henriette asked at your side as she extended her gourd to you.

You contemplated the object before taking it. “Damn, I would kill for some hot tea right now,” you muttered before taking several sips of the freezing liquid before wiping your lips with the back of your hand. They were a lovely shade of pink and Tom noticed that it contrasted with the paleness of your face beautifully.

“I heard German tea’s not that bad,” he said after a moment, putting his hands in his pockets with a teasing smile.

Both women looked at him and scowled, making him grin wider. “I’m joking…They got good beer, though.”

Henriette shook her head in exasperation while you met his eyes, a small smile on your lips as you watched him with a glint of forbidden amusement. Yep, breathtaking.

Albert and Giulia walked in front of them, deep in conversation that had been going on since they left the factory and when the first lights of the morning pierced the sky, Tom barely noticed Albert slow down to walk at his pace while you walked further ahead. “So, you… in Dunkerque?”

Tom lifted his head in surprise, wondering how the conversation would go with both of them not exactly speaking each other’s language. The only French Tom had picked up from his time in this country were the words for water, car, bread and German.

Nothing that would help him with your brother at the moment. “Yeah. Evacuated and all, a mess.”

Albert seemed to understand. “Tiré… You shot?” he continued, flattening his fist over his own shoulder before pointing at Tom’s.

“Yeah, shot by a bloody chaser. Stuka,” he clarified when he saw Albert frown in incomprehension.

The latter only nodded at the known word before lowering his hand over his thigh. “Me too, shot. But less… courageux. I ran from German when come here, they shot us. Bullet hit a little,” he added as he tapped the fabric of his trousers pensively. “One friend… didn’t survive.”

They fell in a respectful silence, Albert’s expression turning melancholic while they reminisced about what they had lost. Tom saw images of a hand extended to him amidst flashing red lights, followed by a face, half burned, lying on the deck, dead. The face that belonged to the hand he didn’t take. A strong feeling of guilt burned his tongue, the memory of Vic rendering his throat sour.

Once they’re gone, they’re gone, you should make it right when you can.

“You have sister, brother?”

“A sister, Lois,” Tom answered a little more brightly as the dreadful images disappeared, replaced by his sister’s big blue eyes warming his chest. “Hell of a singer.”

Albert paused for a moment to understand the last word before nodding again. “So you understand. What it is, to be… protective of sister.”

Tom’s head snapped up, meeting Albert’s stern gaze. “Uh… Yeah, I don’t know. She never really needed anything of me… Older sister and all, I guess.”

Your brother feigned to understand before keeping on, pointing at you walking in front of them. “Y/N, little sister to me. Protect her,” he assured as he witnessed Tom’s growing confusion. “Once, a boy, he, uh… broke Y/N heart,” he trailed, looking for the English words with difficulty. “You know what I did?”

Tom shook his head slowly, replacing confusion for complete nervousness as he waited for your brother to answer his own question, body tense in expectation.

Only Albert did not utter a word, instead drawing his lips into a thin line and coming to apply a slight pressure on Tom’s valid shoulder, resting there for an uncomfortable amount of time. He watched him intensely, conveying what he wanted to say through the light taps on his shoulder and Tom felt his body freeze, feeling the weight of his meaning.

Then he felt the pressure disappear and Albert walked away, returning to his place next to Guilia, leaving a stunned Tom behind.

“What is it again…”

Several hours later, you had reached a crossing, people trampling around in the shade of the trees under the morning sun, disarray radiating from them. Cars were passing by, going in the opposite direction with their engines roaring and you had to dodge two of them in order to let them pass. You all stopped, unwilling to merge with the disorganised crowd.

“Excuse me,” Giulia called out to a slowing black car, approaching the driver. “What is happening?”

“If you’re asking about why people are stopping, it’s because there’s a German post ahead. They have the bridge under their control, alright. I guess all those folks don’t know what to do about it, can’t cross with the river.”

Henriette swore under her breath, rising to look above the heads before her, as if hoping to see the Germans in the distance.

“Where are you coming from?” Giulia continued, looking at the luggage on the back seat of the car.

“Châteauroux, going back home… Turns out, I had a flat tyre and they helped me change it when I went through them,” the driver said, tapping his car door.

“... the German helped you change your tyre?” Albert asked, sceptical.

“They did, indeed,” he answered before driving away, leaving your group behind disconcerted.

“What do we do?” you asked after explaining the situation to Tom.

“I…”

“How are we going to cross the line? I’m not passing through them,” spat Henriette.

“You and Y/N could pass on your own, you’re just going home, right? You have nothing to hide,” remarked Albert. “Even Tom here would pass for a lost lad, just look at him.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you interject, taking your brother’s arm and glancing at Tom with concern.

“It doesn’t work like that… The Germans must be on edge, they’ll be suspicious of anything, without mentioning that he is supposed to be dead,” trailed Giulia deep in thought, looking around like the grapevine fields held the answer she was looking for.

“So what do we do?”

Giulia let Henriette’s question linger in the air for a while before pursing her lips, looking west. “We find a passage point of our own. They can’t be everywhere yet."

And here you were walking again, fatigue starting to seriously eat at your core and the sole of your shoes was starting to wear out, making you regret not bringing a second pair. You passed a nearby village bordering the Cher river that prevented you from going further, a herd of cows half immersed in the water in order to escape the heat. Aside from dogs barking in the distance, all was quiet as you walked up the street, not a soul present outside as if the stony houses and green gardens were deserted. This is why you felt uneasy when you were made self-conscious of the only pair of eyes staring at your group like a hawk, standing in her yard behind a wooden fence with a distrustful icy glare that silently followed your progress. The said woman looked old, cutting out wild branches out of a bush with sharp shears in her hands and stopping when you finally noticed her.

“I’m going to ask her.”

“This is a bad idea, Henriette…” you whispered to your friend, not liking the dark expression the woman bore one bit.

But she didn’t have to ask anything, the harsh voice of the woman suddenly filling the air. “What you lot doing here? You’re not from here.”

You thought it bizarre for someone so close to the line to be surprised by a group of strangers weeks after the first waves of exodus, but you didn’t think too much about it, rather waiting for someone else to speak. Albert was the one who approached her. “No we’re not, we live further south, madame. We just want… We’re looking to cross the river.”

Giulia had her hand over your brother’s arm in a previous attempt to stop him from speaking but now she looked interested in whatever answer the woman would give. The latter froze momentarily before taking a deep annoyed breath, suspicion still adorning her features. When she spoke again, her tone had softened, however. “Hmpf. You’ll want the last house on the right at the end of the road.”

You all looked at each other in puzzlement while Tom eyed the woman curiously. “Merci beaucoup,” bowed your brother in thanks and took Giulia by the arm to lead her in the right direction while you did the same with Tom, thanking the woman silently in turn.

“And not a word!” she called after you roughly with a loud whisper. You looked back at her frightened before resuming your walk.

“She sounds like a lovely lady. Wouldn’t like venturing close to those shears of hers, though,” Tom said as he glanced at her over his shoulder with a mild smirk, your hands curled around his elbow as you led him away. “Care about my limbs too much for that."

“Of course you do,” you said playfully and you sensed his gaze on you again.

“What? You don’t think it would be a loss if I… missed some parts?”

You rolled your eyes as you tried not to blush, but your cheeks turned hot despite your better efforts, the smile on your lips reaching your eyes and Tom let out a soft laugh that made Albert turn with a raised brow. You lowered your gaze to the ground, struggling to keep the sinful thoughts at bay.

The house at the end of the road was more of a farm, two barns at each side of the entrance and as many dogs to welcome you loudly as you passed the gates. At the sound of the agitation, a man who you presumed to be the owner came out of the main building at the opposite side of the yard to call after them, whistling them to heel.

“Who are you? What do you want?” he barked when he reached your group taking great steps, his dogs circling him excitedly. He was mid-aged, strong looking with a bushy beard that hid his neck and you were reminded of the shepherds in your childhood stories.

“We… were directed to this house. We need to cross the river. Sir,” spoke Giulia when she saw the man’s eyes turn into slits. He scrutinised each and every one of you, lingering to observe Albert from head to toe before losing his wary expression as fast as it had come. “Come on, quick.”

You all crossed the courtyard and followed him inside the main building obediently, the dogs behind you now happily sniffing your legs with breathy huffs. Once in a large room with a low ceiling that made Tom duck a little as he entered, the man turned to you all, standing awkwardly and taking in your surroundings with bashful stares.

“Quite the group you have there,” he announced, taking several glasses out of a cupboard and laying them down on the table. “Fruit brandy? Blackberry, homemade.”

You eyed the brown bottle he was agitating in his hand with narrowed eyes before Henriette answered for you, nodding in agreement and the man proceeded to pour a little amount in each glass before beckoning you all to sit around the large table. Only Tom and Giulia stayed up, unwilling to sit on the empty chairs next to the man.

You winced when the thick liquid hit the inside of your throat, burning; but it felt good after the night you had, your head still throbbing a little from your fall. Henriette wore the same mixed expression as you while Tom observed his glass unconvinced before drinking, shaking his head in reaction when he put the glass back down on the table with a thud.

The man then took out cigarettes from his jacket and extended it towards you with raised eyebrows. You refused with a grateful smile while Albert and Tom gladly took one.

“So here’s what’s going to happen," he started as he took a ciggy of his own. "We can’t make you cross in daylight because they’re surveilling the river, so you’re stuck here until nightfall. If a problem comes along, anything at all, you hide in there,” he pointed to an open door on the side, large enough to contain three brooms and a bucket. “You stay quiet, and all will be well. They already searched the house two days ago, so they shouldn’t be back until a while.”

“Merci, Monsieur,” voiced Henriette as she took another sip of her glass while you explained the plan to Tom. “May we know your name?”

“No,” he answered as he flicked a match. “The less you know about me, the better. Remember, do not- ever, talk about the people that help you, it’s too dangerous.”

Giulia nodded in agreement, a rule she already knew while Tom looked at the wooden door with an incredulous look. “We can’t all go in there.”

The man looked up at him with surprise, taking a minute to comprehend that Tom spoke another language altogether. “What did he say?”

“He said that we all won’t fit,” you translated, agreeing with him on that point.

The man stared at Tom for a moment before getting up slowly, walking around the table and coming to stand inches from Tom’s face who didn’t flinch one bit. “Maybe it’s because there is a basement behind that panel, wiseass.”

Tom titled his head back slightly, an unimpressed smile dancing on his lips as he looked back at you. “What was that?”

“Nothing, he just says there is a basement we can hide in beneath it,” you explained standing up instantly in order to softly drag Tom away by the arm, giving a reassuring nod to your host as the others shifted uncomfortably. It seems to suffice because the man regained his chair while Tom took a drag out of his cigarette, looking aloof and wearing a self-sufficient expression.

“Is there a place where we could rest, sir? We… didn’t have much sleep last night.”

He crushed his bud before leading you to your ‘accommodation’ with a waving hand, you and Henriette taking an old looking sofa in an adjacent room while the others are left to sleep comfortably in the barn with blankets. “I warn you, it gets hot in the afternoon,” he announced before leaving them there.

As you close your eyes, trying to find sleep, anxiety claws at your chest at the idea that tonight, you would cross the river with a real risk looming over your group for the first time since you left.

You wake up in the evening, feeling drowsy but a little bit better and only your stressful state from what you will do tonight remains. Outside, the light has started to dim and you can hear frogs croaking in unison in the distance as you move through the house, all of you converging to the dining room where you are offered ham and bread along with some fruit. You eat in apprehensive silence, only broken by curt questions asked by your host like ‘Where are you from’ or ‘What happened in that factory’.

You don’t really participate, lulled by the outside sounds and the soft ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece, nightfall arriving at a slow pace. In front of you, Tom doesn’t speak either, his fingers drumming on the wooden table at times, wearing a plain expression as you glance at him through your eyelashes. He looks relaxed, but you know better, know him better; he is as anxious as you are, and you can’t even reach for him to make him feel less alone.

You linger in the kitchen to wash the plates with the help of Henriette while your brother and Giulia disappear somewhere in the house to talk over the plan, the bearded man soon announcing that he has some preparation to make and exits in turn. You haven’t noticed Tom slip out of the room at all in your focused state, so when you are done with the dishes, you wipe your hands on your towel and step outside in order to look for him, not liking him alone.

The dogs are playing in the yard joyfully, unbeknownst to your nerves on edge and you stop to briefly pet them; the licks they give you lifting your spirit a little before going straight for the smaller barn, the door slightly ajar.

He is there, sitting on a haystack with his legs stretched out, a cigarette hanging from his lips as his gaze is fixed on some chickens trotting around, looking for leftovers on the ground. You approach, coming to sit beside him and he acknowledges your presence with what you think is a fleeting satisfied expression before resuming his quiet observation.

“Find anything interesting about farm life, sailor?” you try, examining his profile, the bruises taking a yellow shade there as he puffs out a cloud of smoke.

“I’m wondering how good a fried chicken would taste right now,” he answers solemnly with a nod towards the winged creatures shuffling around. “I bet the old man wouldn’t even notice a missing bird.”

You watch in turn, agreeing with him, but you’re only reminded of how cunning Tom can be, smiling yo yourself. “Old habits die hard, I see.”

He turns his head to you, a glint of amusement playing in his eyes. “You really think I settled to steal birds back home? Didn’t know you had such a low opinion of me.”

“Can’t tell, I never knew what you were up to, really,” you shrug as you grab the smoke between his fingers to bring it to your lips. "And I know for a fact that you love birds."

He watches the movement, endeared by it and how your rosy lips enclose his own cigarette, right there by his side. “Where are the others?”

You take another drag before handing it back to him, pursing your lips. “Henriette is helping out in the kitchen and-”

“Let me guess,” he interrupts, a smirk stretching at the corner of his mouth as his face brightens. “Your brother and my lovely guide are alone together somewhere, discussing like they’re thick as thieves.”

You part your lips in mild surprise, unsettled by his confidence. “How do you know?”

“C’mon,” he hints, making you frown. “I may not speak French, but I have eyes.”

You get lost in your thoughts for a few seconds, reminiscing about the last few days and Tom's words slowly start to make sense in your mind. All of the time he spent with her, his ease when she is near.

“Well… Good for him,” you conclude as a chicken starts rummaging close to your foot.

Tom leans back against the wall again with a musing sound, eyes not leaving you and enjoying how unsettled he had made you. But then a question comes into his mind and he flicks some ashes away, swallowing nervously. “Say… Your brother he… Never got into a fight, did he?”

You glance back at him, a smile gradually tugs at the corner of your lips as you lean backwards, mimicking him. “Whatever he told you, I guarantee he exaggerated,” you laugh softly. “Albert is a kind soul, never got carried away.”

“So he never… beat up someone? Not once? Can happen to everybody.”

You look at the ceiling as you shake your memory, humming in the process. “He may have had some scraps when we were younger, but apart from that… Why do you ask?”

He hesitates, playing with the tip of his fag. “Just… something about you being heartbroken?”

You turn your head to look up at him, brushing his shoulder in the process, his scent like pine trees reaching your senses. His eyes are trained on you, serious now, and you feel something thrum in your chest before you answer. “Ah… That. Albert wanted to do something about it but he only ended up giving him a good scolding. I was young, I thought it was the end of the world but looking back, it was absolutely meaningless,” you comment, turning one of the rings on your finger distractedly. "I don’t think I’ve ever been heartbroken, you know?”

You hear his soft exhale next to your ear as smoke escapes his lips, glimpsing the slight nod of his head from the corner of your eye. Over the silence you search his face, his eyes are transfixed ahead of him and the desire to be able to read his thoughts passes over you. “...Have you?”

His eyes snap at you at that, their soft blue glow making you pause as he answers contemplatively. “No, I don’t think so… Not yet, at least.”

You turn your tongue in your mouth, stopping words from leaving it as you stare back at the chickens, his gaze hot on the side of your face. You’re tempted to look back, to acknowledge what you chose to ignore obstinately, instead conjuring a memory from your childhood home and recounting it to Tom. All of that to brush away the inevitable future, because you knew it would hurt, you just had to make it less painful, some way or another.

He listens to you, speaking about him in turn without complaint and you talk for what seems like hours, reminiscing stories of your childhood you never got to tell each other while in Manchester.

When you come to the subject of Tom’s first serious infraction the chickens are long gone, having run back in their respective coop for the night. Eventually, the conversation fades down, less enthusiastic as dark falls completely outside, a single lamp hanging over an oaken beam your sole source of light. You feel so comfortable next to him, your knees brushing his in the need to compensate for the cool air settling down over your skin with the warmth radiating from his body. But at the sight of the night finally taking over, anguish comes back to nag at you and you still shiver.

“How far is it?” Tom asks softly after a while, no smile discernable in his voice. “Where you’re going?”

“About… 150 km,” you answer with a strained voice, conjuring a mental map. “Maybe two days of walk, give or take…”

“So not very far, then…” he murmurs pensively, and you can’t help but look at him with saddening eyes. He looks so… exhausted.

“We still have time,” you assure, turning fully to him as you feel his anguish reach you, the one you refused to acknowledge earlier. “We have to cross the river, and then-”

“Doesn’t change the fact that in a matter of days we might never see each other again.”

He meets your eyes for a fleeting moment, his blue eyes piercing yours, sombre before they’re gone again, as if looking at you pained him greatly. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, your heart constricting in your chest. You don't want him looking at you like this.

You see the subtle clenching of his jaw and your fingers reach for it, softly bringing his face to look back at you, your chin almost touching his shoulder with the proximity. “Don’t say that. There will be an after, we just have to wait for the better days to come. For the war to be over."

His eyes shut briefly at your touch, and you can feel the way he imperceptibly leans into it. “We might never get there. The Nazis won't stop, England won't surrender in a million years, and somewhere along the way I'll be fighting for the other side, left to hope that you're alright."

Your eyelids feel heavy, fluttering slowly, wondering if the weight of his words have something to do with it. "Nothing will happen to me as nothing will happen to you. You just have to make it to Spain, then start from there."

"You won't even know if I made it, if I ever do, anyway."

“Giulia will get you there, I trust she will. Then we'll both be home, we'll know we're safe. We'll be with our families, with our loved one."

A weak smile cracks over his lips, one of his hands coming to reach over yours resting at the side of his face, your fingers trailing the edge of his jaw, unkempt by days of travel. You get lost in the gesture there, at the feel of it while he rubs his thumb on the inside of your wrist, soft circles of soothing affection.

“Don’t you feel that it won’t be enough?”

His question grazes your skin, uttered so closely and making your eyes shift to his, their blue piercing through your soul like hot coals and you shiver. But inside, you feel warm, a bright glow filling your chest and you are sure its light can reach him, like you’re sharing the same hammering hearts, the same thoughts, meaningful words hanging in the air between you but unable to unhook. It’s almost painful, the ache that wants you closer to him, and when you lower your eyes to his lips there is suddenly no distance anymore, the caress over your inner wrist stopping to grip it softly.

The kiss is full of longing, lips entrapped against each other with carefulness, tender skin against tender skin and it’s overwhelming, right. You’re not sure about what you’re doing but you need it, Tom responding with the gentlest touch he has ever given you and a veil falls over your mind, the necessity to forget about the cold truth of the days to come filling every cell of your body, replaced by this instant. You wonder if he feels the same as you get lost in his, the pain you wanted to avoid out of reach. His tongue dances with yours at a slow pace, wishing time would go as leisurely, his pressure on your wrist binding you both in soft adoration.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you there? Oh-”

You shift instantly at the voice of your brother, his head appearing within the frame of the door just in time for Tom to back away from you in a fluid movement, distancing himself like you’d burned him. Albert wears a gobsmacked expression, glancing between you and Tom while the latter only stares at the ground with his head down. You, for your part, look at him unabashedly, waiting for him to speak, a frustrating feeling of loss coursing through your body.

“It’s time, we need to go,” Albert announces after an uncomfortable silence, and then he is gone, leaving you to look back at Tom still looking downwards, teeth digging into his bottom lip, looking like a teenager caught in the act.

When he meets your gaze, you cannot help the wide smile that spreads across your face. “Don't.”

“I didn’t say anything!” you laugh at Tom’s flustered expression, the shade of his cheeks adorable as you wonder if yours wears the same colour, feeling blissfully happy.

But when you both get up and go for the main house, stress gradually regains your nerves for what is to come.

Part 8

A/N: Thank you @babyblue711 & @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan as always, I won't be able to do much without you.

@chainsawsangel@mischiefmanaged71@depressedperson88@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan@yentroucnagol@tssf-imagines @nightdiamond8663 @lauraneedstochill @unleashthelion @helaenaluvr @omgkatherine01 @launotfound @r0segard3n

#tom bennett #tom bennet x reader #wof #world on fire #tom bennet imagine #smut #tom bennett fanfiction #ewan mitchell #angst #fluff #world on fire 1x01 #gone with regret #usermyfandomprompts

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daisyswift3 · 1 year

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Meet Me at Midnight—The Complete Guidebook

So I just had several epiphanies at once…..I think Taylor might’ve given us a guidebook for her entire plan this yr (and possible coming out?) several months in advance w the release of Midnights (very mastermind of her). Looking at the vinyls and bejeweled mv again this becomes evident. I’ll explain (Also please see this excellent analysis as it provides lots of context and evidence that aligns w this theory).

The moonstone vinyl is obviously related to bejeweled and is a light blue representing the 1989 era. Others have pointed out the numerous 1989 references in the bejeweled mv: rising to the 5th floor, 2013 vsfs aesthetic, lots of light blue, short hair, NYC vibes, her ghosting the prince and living her best single life, etc.

Moonstone symbolizes light and hope and new beginnings. These things have been shown symbolically in the recent pap walks. Light and hope: the sunshine rings. New beginnings: 🦋 on the jeans and no beard. There’s also the connection to the feminine: the girl squad. Cyclical change: her returning to the 1989 era w her squad boyfriend-free; the tides, moon, and sun also undergo cyclical change (blood moon lunar eclipse?).

A clock can also be thought to undergo cyclical change and Taylor chose to use this as the main symbol that represents Midnights. Taylor has said multiple times "It's a clock, it can help you tell time" which now I'm thinking means it can literally help you know when she's gonna make certain moves, like dropping the beard and returning to the 1989 era for example. TN posted this during the Midnights promo. The clock is split into 4 quarters. The moonstone/bejeweled vinyl is the first quarter which I believe we have just exited and I'll explain why shortly. This vinyl contains the numbers 12, 1, 2, 3 which could be related to "exile ends in 3...2..."

Going clockwise we end up in the 2nd quarter—blood moon or glitch. If the 12 hrs represent 12 months, then each vinyl or quarter of the clock would represent approximately 3 months (Jan-March, 1-3 for the moonstone vinyl which adds up bc the toe breakup was said to have happened mid March). I know the pap walks were done in April so this might be more of a rough outline for events. This means a “glitch” would happen roughly April-June…A blood moon represents chaos, disruption, and change, hidden information rising to the surface (gee kinda sounds like what’s happening right now 🧐). The lavender vinyl is also in the 1st quarter and seeing that it’s a song abt bearding it makes sense. But it also seems like this vinyl is supposed to be completely separate from the main 4 vinyls so it could have a different meaning. There are a bunch of great posts analyzing the blood moon/glitch, see here and here.

Sidenote: More on the bejeweled mv numerology and symbolism—she enters the moonstone vsfs-esque room on the 3rd floor. The clock Taylor’s sitting on is pointed at 3. There’s a ton of speak now easter eggs bc 3rd album. There’s 3 step sisters instead of 2 like in the original Cinderella story. The Queen Pat scene shows multiple motifs we’re all familiar w—angels, lions, a queen/royalty, an eye?? There’s probs a ton I’m missing. But yeah all that to say it seems she’s trying to connect bejeweled/1989 era 2.0 to the number 3 or March and to one leo VS supermodel angel woman. So it’s almost as if KK was still a part of this new 1989 era despite being absent from the pap pics.

Next vinyl is mahogany which would presumably take place from July-Sept. The last date scheduled for the eras tour is in Aug which would fall in this quarter. Strength and resilience are needed during this time? There have been a ton of exile, 8/3 references lately.

The last quarter/vinyl is jade green (Oct-Dec). It represents serenity and tranquility, perhaps symbolizing the peaceful acceptance of any ensuing consequences of making a life altering decision? Dec would be the 12th hr on the clock. So could New Years be the “last page” where we finally meet the real Taylor? I mean it is one of the most important midnights of the yr. In that post I mentioned earlier others pointed out how the Cinderella story fits into the general themes of Midnights. I think Taylor keeps using Cinderella imagery bc once the clock strikes “Midnight” on New Years the facade will be gone—“Shred my evening gown” // “Dappled w the flickers of light from the dress I wore at midnight leave it all behind” // “Spring breaks loose the time is near…moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time” // “You know when it’s time to go” // “If you wish to romanticize the woman I became then say you’ll remember me standing in a nice dress.” She’s telling her fans that the Taylor they love is a carefully crafted persona and the real her is not nearly as pretty and will be disillusioning to look at.

Furthermore, Taylor has really emphasized that she rejects the notion of a picture perfect 1950s life. "She would've made such a lovely bride what a shame she's fucked in the head" // "He wanted a bride I was making my own name" // "Picture perfect shiny family holiday peppermint candy" // "All they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride.” Also think of all the wedding imagery she has used lately. "The bride was willing to risk it all." This video of her in a wedding dress singing champagne problems. The countless speak now easter eggs which would be overkill if she was just simply trying to tease a re-record. "Don't say yes run away now." I think she's saying that she's going to shred her wedding dress and the heteronormative fantasy swifties want for her and burn her house, a symbol of her life’s work, past selves, and closet, to the ground. Bringing it back to the serenity/tranquility symbolism, others pointed out in this post that in the eras tour wildest dreams visuals she looks perfectly content, peacefully sleeping while the world burns around her. She’s finally ready to shatter her glass closet and break free from her cage.

Jade is also the “Gem Supreme”: king of my heart; “Jewel of Heaven”: angels roll their eyes, no rules in breakable heaven, halo hiding my obsession, etc you get it; stone of the heart: again king of my heart, lover. This vinyl could be related to snow on the beach—“I searched aurora borealis green….your eyes are flying saucers from another planet.” Perhaps a reminder that she’s setting off but not without her muse?

With all this in mind I think it’d be good to revisit the Midnights prologue.

Of course this could be completely wrong and if she tours internationally and into next yr then it wouldn’t really make sense to come out yet. It could also be the case that the clock is meant to be read a different way or represent a 2 yr period rather than 1 yr. And maybe sometimes it’s meant to be read backwards instead since there have been some references lately to things being reversed? Idk what do you all think? Please feel free to add onto this !!

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crowwritesaway · 7 months

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Ivar the Boneless x Reader Pt. 2

I can’t keep up with them. My mom keeps speaking over me. My feelings go unheard and constantly invalidated by my family.

I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this…with them. You frowned, finding yourself dissatisfied with everything…with them once again.

Bzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Your phone was vibrating. Who could it be?

You turned over your phone. It was Ivar. Should I answer? I don’t want to burden him. He did say I could count on me.

You rubbed your forehead. Shit. I overdid it again. Now, I have a headache. Great. Just fucking great. You winced at the pain. Never mind, it’s a fucking migraine.

It was like a ritual. Every single time you felt stressed, worried, or just overwhelmed by your family, you would get a migraine. It felt like a curse.

Ivar pulled the phone away from his ear. He furrowed his eyebrows. Why isn’t she answering my calls? Did she fall asleep?

He glanced at the clock on his wall. 6:30pm.

He shook his head. No, she wouldn’t be asleep.

He unlocked his phone. Clicked on messages app and clicked on your name. He contemplated what to say. He didn’t want to make you feel like you did something bad. He didn’t want to hurt you.

You sigh, the phone stopped vibrating. Even if I did answer, I wouldn’t know what to say. You tossed your phone aside. I hope he understands. I don’t know how to open up. I become voiceless. It’s so hard to say what I want to.

He growled, he couldn’t say what he wanted over messages. It wouldn’t have the same impact. He blue eye narrowed on the keyboard. She’s worth it. Every sleepless late night. If they won’t care, I will. I have to remove her from that place. Once and for all. I’ve had enough of this.

He inhaled and exhaled before typing, “Whatever it is that is consuming your mind, I’ll be there for you. No expectations. Just you and me. See you soon. Love you.❤️‍🔥” He tilted his head. Should I keep the emoji or is it too much? His eyes went wide, what if I overdid it? He moved his thumb to erase it but accidentally tapped send.

He nodded to himself. My heart is on fire for her though. He stood up. That’s it. I’ll take her out on an adventure. We could go to the beach and look at the moon. And if she wants to we could stay and watch the sun rise.

He smiled. She had always wanted to go out at night. I can make her forget even if it’s just for one night. One of many.

He got off his bed and swiftly left his room. He called his driver and sent one last message to you before leaving his house.

You threw your head back, sighing. I didn’t do anything. How am I supposed to be the one apologizing?

It’s tiring listening to my mom play victim and at the same time, hurt me with her words. I feel bad and at the same time, I’m angry. It hurts.

Bzzz.. Bzzz. Bzzz. You looked away from the wall and picked up your phone. The screen light up. A message from Ivar. You unlocked your phone. You smiled. My precious Ivar. My rock. If he wasn’t around, I don’t know what I would do. At least he cares. He listens. He’s been around for so long that I hope he won’t leave me like the rest.

I shouldn’t be doubting him but after experiencing so much pain and trauma from my family, I don’t know what to expect from anyone else. But then again, he isn’t just anyone. He’s stood by my side. Ughh.

You rubbed your temples. It doesn’t feel good questioning his intentions. But it’s all I know to protect myself.

Heart emoji. I appreciate his words. His heart emoji. I’m so going to tease him.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Another message from Ivar.

It said, “Get dressed. A hoodie and sweats. It’s a chilly night. I don’t want you to get sick. I’ll take a spare one just in case. Put you first. Let’s enjoy the night and get out of our heads for a while. Please. Sneak out. 😉I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

You held back a smile. He could be so sweet and kind when he wants to.

“Throw out the trash.” Your sister told you. Fuck it. I deserve this. Right? So far, I’ve done everything to their standards. The least they can do is let me have this one night. Im an adult. I can do this.

“Did you hear me?” Throw the trash.” Your sister said, irritated. She blamed you. She was on your mom’s side.

You made a joke. It wasn’t even serious. It was a reality check that stings like a bitch to your mom.

Your mom blew up in your face. Said hurtful things. But it’s your fault. Your mom hasn’t spoken to you since the “fight”. You refuse to talk because you had enough.

You took out a black hoodie and grey sweatpants. You changed into them. You pocketed your phone and exited the room. You walked into the living room. Your mom was on the couch. She ignored you. You put your shoes on by the door.

You picked up the trash and exited the apartment. You lived in an apartment complex so the garbage was disposed on the other side. You grinned as you walked away. The sunset was beautiful. It was windy. It felt great to be away.

Honk. Honk. Honk. Honk.

You turned to look who was honking. There at the backseat of the car was Ivar, smiling as he waved his hand at you. You laughed, shaking your head. He looked insane. You lifted the trash bag and pointed that you were going to dump it. He nodded.

You dump the trash and took out your hand sanitizer. You squirted some on your hands and rubbed your hands together.

You looked around. The last thing you need is someone to report to your mom about this. Nosy neighbors.

You walked up to the car. You opened the door. He mischievously smiled as you got in. He inwardly cheered. He finally got you to go out with him.

You got inside and shut the door. “Let’s go.” Ivar told the driver. You rolled up the window. “So, where are we going?” You asked, putting in your seatbelt. “You’ll see.” You turned over to look at him. “Surprise, huh.”

“Yup, a surprise you’ll love.” Ivar replied, smiling down at you.

Thank you for reading.

#ivar the boneless x oc #ivar x reader #ivar fanfic #ivar the boneless fanfic #ivar x plus size reader #ivar x female reader #ivar the boneless x you #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x oc

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lieutenantfloyd · 2 years

Text

Rebel Yell - Ron “Slider” Kerner

Pairing: Ron “Slider” Kerner x Reader

Words: 2.4k

Summary: Penny, readers older sister, leaves to go hang out with Maverick and the crew at the bar instead of "babysitting" her younger sister while their parents are out of town. In an attempt to follow the many rules set by their father, reader calls the bar and asks Penny to bring her a pizza. Penny is less than thrilled at this prospect as she wants to stay out with Mav just a bit longer. Unbeknownst to reader, Penny enlists Slider, reader's long-time crush, to deliver the pizza instead.

Warnings: smut, age difference, a little bit of risky sex towards the end.

note: This was heavily inspired by Rebel Yell by Billy Idol and I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen. Both of which are on my Slider playlist :)

read on ao3

One thing about being the youngest daughter of a Naval admiral is that no matter how old you are, you'll always be viewed as a child. It didn't help any that your older sister Penny was still required to "Babysit" despite you both being legal adults. You both agreed this rule was unnecessary so it wasn't uncommon for her to leave you at home while she went out with her friends or her on-again-off-again boyfriend Maverick.

This was where you found yourself tonight, alone at home while Penny was out on the town living the young adult dream. Even though there was a bit of an age difference between you two, you still couldn't understand why she wouldn't let you tag along more than once in a blue moon. What made this night different, however, was the fact that both your parents were away on "official business", leaving you and your sister (or really just you) alone in your large beachside home.

Making your way into the kitchen, you opened the fridge as if something to eat had appeared between the 10th and 11th time you did this exact act. It wasn't that there was no food, just that it was all either off limits or required way too much cooking. Not to mention the fact that another one of your fathers' rules was that you weren't allowed to cook when they weren't home.

Sighing, you close the fridge again and make your way over to the house phone. Putting the receiver to your ear, you consider not calling the bar to speak to Penny, but eventually decide that if she's willing to run off all night, the least she can do is bring you a pizza from the shop next door. The line rings for a while before the owner picks up.

"Hi. Is Penny there?" You ask while leaning onto the wall.

"Yep. Want me to fetch her for you?"

"Yes, thank you."

The owner set the line down and went to get Penny, leaving you to listen in on the commotion of the bar. You longed to be amongst the crowd, singing karaoke and flirting with aviators. Your head swam with memories of the few times Penny took you with her. You'd made fast friends with everyone, Iceman and Slider in particular. You'd always admired him, but it wasn't long until your admiration grew into a full-blown crush. He was older, with soft blue eyes and a physique practically carved out of stone. He was wild and funny and practically dripped confidence. Above all else, he treated you like you were more than just Penny's baby sister or the admiral's little girl.

Just as you were recalling the moments you'd shared with him, namely the moment two months back when Ron was teaching you to play pool and how his big, strong arms positioned you into the right form, penny picked up the phone.

"Is something wrong?'' She asked, clearly wanting to get off the phone as quickly as possible.

"No. But can you bring me a pizza from next door?"

"That's it? Why don't you just cook something?"

"You know how dad is, Penny. Besides, aren't you supposed to be babysitting me? Feeding the baby is part of the job, you know."

"...Fine," she huffed "I'm a little.. preoccupied, but I'll figure something out."

"Thank you!" You teased back.

"Don't push it."

Forty minutes later you were sitting on the floor carding through VHS tapes when suddenly the doorbell rang. Expecting either a delivery man or Penny herself, you opened the door without looking through the peephole.

"Surprise delivery." Slider smirks, holding the pizza box out to you.

Your grip on the doorknob slips as it takes all your willpower to stay standing. Taking the pizza with an unsteady hand, he asks to come in and you nod a little too excitedly in agreement. He follows you to the living room in silence. You set the food on the coffee table and turn to him.

"So what are you doing here?" You question.

"Penny asked the table if anyone wanted to bring you a pizza. I accepted because why wouldn't i want to see my favorite girl?" He smiled down at you.

It took all you had not to pass out right there. His favorite girl. There had always been a slightly flirty tension between you, but neither of you wanted to press it and ruin the small amount of time you spent together. But now it was just you two, alone in your house as he stood there clad in grey sweatpants and a complimentary tight white t-shirt that granted an outline of his dog tags.

forcing your eyes off his figure, you continued the conversation the best you could in his presence.

"Well, I appreciate it. Are you um.. heading back to the bar?"

"I was planning on heading over to my place." He answers.

Here goes nothing, you thought.

"Do you maybe want to stay here? With me? I was going to eat and watch a movie." You smiled through your nerves.

"And here I was thinking you'd never ask."

A while later the pizza had been all but forgotten in favor of the movie Ron had picked. Some horror flick from the past year. Clutching the pillow tighter to your chest you can't ignore Ron's eyes on you for what seems like the umpteenth time so far. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to meet his gaze.

"What is it?"

"Nothing sweets. Nothing at all." He says, turning his attention back to the movie.

His reply leaves you both puzzled and slightly frustrated. Pushing the pillow onto the floor next to you, you stretch your body in an effort to release both tension and rid yourself of your beckoning sleepiness. Your arms push high above your head, the sensation causing you to groan softly. Settling back down, it isn't long before you feel him looking at you again. Just as frustration bubbles in your chest again he cuts you off.

"Are you tired?" He asks.

"Not really." You lie.

He doesn't need to know you still have a strictly enforced bedtime.

"Good. Do you think your sister will be back soon?"

This causes you to look up at him curiously.

"No, why?"

"Just wondering." He says before pausing as if considering his words.

"You know, I can always stay until she does. For safety reasons, of course." He smiles playfully.

Maybe it was your tired mind playing tricks on you, but you could've sworn his eyes trailed down your body as he spoke. Your face grows warm at the thought as your head drops shyly.

"I'd like that. Thank you." You say barely above a whisper.

"Of course, sweets." He smirks over at you before moving a bit closer.

Feeling shy next to him you put your focus back on the movie. Soon small yelps start to escape you as jumpscare after jumpscare appears on the screen. It isn't long before you're shielding your eyes and gripping Slider's arm for dear life. His hand made its way up your back and around your shoulder, squeezing you confidently as you continued to shy away from the tv. Hoping to not embarrass yourself further, you peeked out from under his arm. As luck would have it, you chose a terrible time to look. The image sends you scrambling into his lap with a shriek. Without missing a beat his arms curl around your form.

"I told you I was here to protect you" he teases in a low voice.

His voice sends a shudder down your spine. You bury your head further into his firm chest, trying to hide your embarrassment. He only laughs and shifts his grip on your body, grabbing your hips firmly, and prompting you to look at him. With a little coxing you unbury your face, earning a wide smile from the older man.

A wild look flashes in his eyes as he leans down towards your ear again.

"You know, if you wanted to jump in my lap and feel me up you could've just asked."

The heat burning on your face sinks lower as your eyes grow wide. Your heart rate picks up as you start to wriggle under his hands.

"Hey, hey, hey," He coos "Gosh, you really are the cutest."

Suddenly you still in his grip, heat moving from your face down to your belly every time he speaks. You slowly grow comfortable against him as silence falls between you. Just as you settle against him, his arms wrap around your front, rolling you onto the floor while he finds a spot on top of you.

Brushing your hair aside, his head dips as he places a soft kiss on your lips. The kiss deepens instantly and your mouths begin to move in sync. Your arms find their way around his neck to pull him closer and his hands trail down your sides. He pushes your thighs apart and slots his hips between them. His tongue pushes past your lips and he prompts your legs to wrap around his waist. Your hands find their way into his hair and your nails take down his scalp, earning a deep groan from him. Pressing further into you, he rolls his hips against yours. His hands find their way to your chest, but before they move inside your shirt he pulls his mouth away from yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

"Please.." you practically whine.

"Please stop?" He says, backing off slightly.

"No! Just... um.." you say, growing shy again.

"I need to hear your words, honey."

"I want you."

"To what, honey?"

"...Fuck me."

"Atta girl." He says allowing more of his weight to press into you while his lips find your neck. "I'll take care of you," he says between kisses. "or ruin you. Whichever you prefer."

You shudder at his words and he laughs, loving the effect he already has on you.

"Let's try a little bit of both." He smirks slightly, planting a firm kiss to the side of your head.

Without any more hesitation, his lips find the crook of your neck while his hands find their way under your shirt. Your mouth falls open with a moan, prompting him to push his hips back in between your thighs. His hard on pressing into your core. He kisses your lips needily before making quick work of removing your collective garments. the moment his shirt lands on the floor your hands begin to roam his torso, sliding lower and lower until they meet the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

“Don’t hold back,” he growls, sensing your slight hesitation. His toned frame and ever-confident personality had you seeing stars. slipping out of his sweats he goes to remove your bottoms as well. You lift your hips up into his allowing him to finally discard your shorts and underwear. His palm pushes between your thighs to cup your heat. His digits push past your folds just enough to dampen them before bringing them to his mouth. You both groan at the sight. Heat floods your stomach causing you to buck your hips up into his. Through his boxers you can feel just how obscenely hard and big he is. You groan again at the sensation, the noise causing him to drop one hand from his mouth and push your hips to the ground. With his free hand, he frees his cock from his boxers and shifts to move the head between your soaked folds.

"Ronnie," you pant "I need you inside me.”

"You don't have to ask me twice," he smirks as he sinks his length into you. Your head falls against the floor as inch after inch of his erection enters your beckoning heat. Coming to hilt he groans and pauses, granting you time to adjust to his size. You let out a few needy moans as the seconds pass and the pressure in your abdomen grows.

"Ronnie, please. I need you to move," you say slowly.

His lips capture yours as he draws his hips back, drawing his length partway out before thrusting forcefully back into you. He swallows your small cry as your nails drag up his back and arms. His thrusts are long, even, and impossibly deep. Your head swims with nothing but pleasure as the head of his dick finds your sweet spot over and over again. Releasing your lips he reaches down and pulls one of your legs around his hip, allowing him to thrust somehow deeper inside you.

Your loud mewls blend with his deep groans. A quick snap of his hips makes your walls clench around him. The sound he lets out is downright pornographic and your mind goes blank. Leaving you a wriggling mess underneath him crying out for more. He continues his quick, sloppy thrusts until you come undone around him moments later.

Riding you through your orgasm, he soon pulls out and spills over your lower stomach. His strong arms land on either side of you. Keeping his full weight from collapsing on top of you. He presses his forehead to yours and your labored breaths sync. As you both come down from your orgasms, you almost don't hear the front door open and penny yell your name. Almost.

The sound of your name sends your once cloudy mind onto high alert. You froze, silently thanking the powers that be that blessed you with a house with a sectioned-off living room.

"Hey!" You yell back through the house, your voice much shakier than intended. A short silence follows before penny speaks up again. "Are you okay y/n?" Penny asks, causing Ron to bury his head in your shoulder in an effort to stifle a laugh. "I'm Fine! Just.. uh.. don't come in here!" You stammer earning a dampened laugh and a wild look from Ron. A much longer silence fills the air this time.

"...I'm just going to head up to bed. Goodnight y/n."

"Alright. Goodnight!" You answer, still half frozen.

Penny starts up the stairs without another word. Thinking you're in the clear, you both relax slightly, letting out soft giggles like two teenagers who just got away with something. Rolling off you, your mind grows cloudy again as he begins to whisper teasing praises into your ear. Yet with what's left of your mind, you hear her stop halfway up the stairs.

"-And goodnight Ron."

"Fuck."

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@austin-butlers-gf

#r.kerner #slider x reader #slider kerner #ron slider kerner #ron kerner #top gun x reader #top gun smut #slider smut #top gun #top gun maverick

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