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cursedcola · 2 months

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia( pt.1 Here!)(pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. So much that I exceeded the character limit and need to post Diasomnia in 2 parts. I have favorites I guess :/

Malleus experienced more firsts over the course of three years than the duration of his life. His first board game session, his first group trip with peers, his first taste of carnival food, his first sleepover, his first true friend - so, so many firsts. All a byproduct of one person walking into his life and taking a genuine interest in him.

You were the first houseguest he personally invited over to Diasomnia. Not for a tour, not for business, not on behalf of another - no. You were Malleus' houseguest, there to visit Malleus and spend time with Malleus. The snacks prepared were for you both to share. The lounge seating reserved for your company. His first time hosting for fun.

You were the first person he ever got a present for outside of his family. How quick your birthday had come, and how startled he became to find he cared. You were older. Growing so quick and changing at an alarming pace. He could see it in your features and mannerisms. Malleus knew that humans aged at a much faster rate than fae. Silver sprouted like a beanstalk. Yet you were blossoming like a flower in spring. How long until you'd wither?

Malleus cared. Not out of curiosity, but something deeper. Malleus did not want a servant to pick your gift, not even his closest companions. He desired to adhere to human custom and do the task himself. He did not trust another to pick something meaningful and to your preference.

You were the first to make him laugh. Your humor being like none he had heard before. Others tend to correct themselves in Malleus' presence, or try to cater to 'his' taste. Even those closest to him, often sharing a joke that flies over his head without any explanation. You did no such thing. Your humor was curious, and perhaps a bit crude. The jokes did fail to land with him, but he still found them funny regardless.

You were the first to make him yearn. Malleus had felt loneliness before. He's been bound in it's searing clutches and taunted. Yet his rooted longing never compelled him to change. He never felt jealous. Until your smile became another's and he felt a hot pit in his stomach. One different than his fiery magic.

You were his first desire.

Malleus fumbled and panicked. He had finally found a friend, yet he wanted more. The realization striking him deep. The first want he had no guarantee of obtaining. Yet his need for you was strong. He could not lose you. Malleus begun to value your presence. Your joy. The new life you breathed into him. He held it as dear as his family. You became his fondest treasure.

Malleus needed to ensure that you would never be taken from him. That you would never change.

You were also his first failure. On the dawn of your second year and his graduation, Malleus proposed. He had forgone all customs and jumped straight to marriage. Love to the fae was a lifetime bond. No power could chain you to him stronger than matrimony. Which is why he demanded your presence in the gardens after the ending ceremony. He decorated according to your tastes, with colorful lanterns and firefly lights strewn across the plants.

He saw the hope in your eyes. The way they sparkled with affection and pride bloomed knowing that he was the cause.

“Malleus….It’s so beautiful. Did you prepare this just for me?” You ask, clutching your hands to your chest. He smiles, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a black velvet box in the shape of a rose.

“I’m happy to see you like it; however, I hope this offering pleases you more”

Malleus opens the box to reveal a ring. Your eyes widen owlishly and he interprets it as a good sign. Until you step back.

“Oh Malleus….I can’t accept this. We aren’t even dating!” You deny his unspoken proposal with a shaken tone Malleus’ is unfamiliar with. Not from you.

“Why not? I love you. Is that not enough? Do you not love me?”

He fails to understand why you declined. He spent countless hours studying human customs and expression. No. Studying you. He was confident you returned his affections. So why? Why not leave this place and join him?

You explain to him that you’re incapable of marrying someone you haven’t spent time with romantically. That you do care about him. That you liked him and did feel for him. That you could love him, but not so suddenly. You have friends at NRC and didn’t want to leave. Not to mention how him marrying a human, especially with no warning, would cause so many political problems.

Of course he had already taken all this into consideration. He didn’t care about all that, yet bit his tongue from speaking his mind. Another first for Malleus.

“What if I abide by your terms? Would you allow me to court you properly?” He cuts into your sea of reasons not to be together. They weren’t his concern. Only you.

This gets you. He clearly wasn’t listening. Love blinded the average person, and Malleus’ heart bled. You consider his offer, and agree to his courtship. It would be difficult to maintain considering your distance and his status. Yet they were fickle matters to Malleus.

You were his first failure, yet he didn’t mind. There was no true victory without a bit of labor.

The change that he so feared, it became something Malleus adored. Every time he would whisk you away from NRC, or return for a visit - you were different. You had a new story to share, or had changed your appearance. At first he began to panic once again at how quickly you seemed to evolve without him.

And one day he realized that you would keep changing. He’d see a new you forever. All these new versions. A constant spark and longing that made him realize how precious each one was. They would come whether he bid them to or not - so he had to cherish them. Every version of you was one he loved and lost. Yet the fact that another would emerge kept his heart complacent.

You were his first kiss on a dewy fall morning. You were his first heartfelt dance, dressed in shimmery black satin and pearls that he gifted. You were his first goodnight kiss, and first morning embrace. You were his first comfort after tragedy struck and his first sympathetic heartache. You were everything.

It was no longer about chaining you. He loved his firsts. He would forever remember them.

His first goodbye.

On the cusp of your 3rd year coming to a close, Malleus prepared the ring from two years prior. He would gift it to you after your graduation. It would be yours whether you accepted the meaning behind it or not - the ring could go to no one else.

An announcement arrives to him the week prior via pen and paper. Hand written by you and oh how he so loved your letters. Malleus opened it with calm delight, yet as his eyes traveled across the words he forgot how to control his strength. The paper alit in flames.

‘The Headmaster found a way to send me home. Would you come for a visit?’

The letter was not so blunt, but that’s all he could comprehend. Malleus was not ready to say goodbye. He once thought his greatest fear was to watch his flower wilt, yet now it must be cut to make a bouquet.

As much as it tore him apart, Malleus had to let you go. He couldn’t root you to soil forever. His hands unconsciously drift to the velvet rose box tucked safely in his breast pocket.

It’s only natural you’d be the source of some of Malleus’ lasts. He would never love another.

He joins you days before your ceremony. You explain to him the procedure to return, and he bites his tongue once again. He encourages you, and is happy that you’re happy. The ring burns a hole where his heart lies yet he continues on with grace, ignoring the cautious behavior of your peers whenever he’s around. The only opinion he cared for was yours, and he’d stay as long as you needed.

Malleus missed the way your heart sought his. The way you gave him chance after chance to ask you to stay. How you clung to him despite the roles normally being reversed.

“I guess this is goodbye. I’ll miss you,” you whisper, holding Malleus’ hand and glancing at the glowing portal behind him. Malleus smiles, his eyes softening as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“I will never forget your heart,” he murmurs against your skin, and reaches into his breast pocket with fluid movements. Malleus places the velvet rose box in your hands, cradling them gently with both of his.

“This is yours. I had it made for your finger alone, and only you will be the one to wear it. My heart belongs to you. Let this be my final selfish wish, but I hope you will think of me when you look upon it”

Malleus doesn’t understand why you break down. The way you clutch the box to your chest and look at him with such pain. He thought you wanted to go home. Is it not what you waited so long for?

He cannot be strong when you’re crying. How can you be so cruel. He won’t be able to -

“I want to be with you. I love you,” you whisper yet he hears it perfectly clear.

Malleus’ heart stutters and he clutches your shoulders. With one hand he tilts your chin up to look at him. Your eyes splotched with red irritation and glassy with sorrow. He wipes at their edges with his thumbs, cupping your cheeks ans looking at you for any sign of doubt. Any insincerity or fear. Your expression from years prior still lives rent free in his mind…he would not risk your happiness for his selfishness.

He finds nothing and pulls you in his arms. For the first time, Malleus sheds tears born from love. From relief. He wraps his arms protectively around you, and tucks his chin over your head.

“If you love something, let it be free. If it was meant to be yours then it will come back willingly. This is a saying of humans, is it not? I could not have you at the cost of your happiness. You do not deserve such a tainted love…but if this is truly what you desire, then I will not cease my efforts. You are mine, and I will eternally be yours,”

{Malleus’ ring is hand crafted by the royal blacksmith. Some would assume that there is a ring passed down through generations of the Draconia bloodline. There is not. The fae do not follow such traditions, yet Malleus would not instill all his values onto you. If it is a ring you need, then it is a ring he will get. He decides to reforge a gem plucked from his mother’s staff. The ring is made especially for you, with a teardrop-cut of magic-infused emerald as the focus point. It’s enchanted to reject any hand other than your own, and morphs to the size of your finger. It is subtle, made of pure gold, and a symbol of union between fae and mankind.}

"One should never make a vow of eternal love lightly. Take it from someone with ample life experience"

Lilia often imposes advice without any prompting. The musings of an old man normally went in and out of people's ears anyways. Sometimes it takes experience to learn, and no matter how we try to warn our children - fate is fate. They will go through the motions just as the people before them. Especially when it comes to trials of the heart such as love and loss.

Lilia knows both intimately. They've forged the man he is.

Philia: Love of friendship and equals. His peers, his comrades in arms, his fellow fae. The friends he has lost through death and distance. Those he fought to protect.

Storge: Parental love. To raise the son of his closest friends, and the blood of his sworn enemy. Lilia has fought through loss to feel the gratification of fatherhood. Lilia loves his children.

Agape: Love of man. This one took work. It took losing all he had, and then losing more. Hundreds of years of healing and trying to be better. Even in his final stretch Lilia is still learning this love.

Eros: Passionate, unconditional love. Lilia has felt this once, and only once. The wound still fresh with a dribble of salt steadily halting the healing process. To feel eros is a beautiful thing, but to have it ripped away is enough to kill.

Lilia experienced his fair share, and now enjoys watching those in the prime of life seek out love. He doesn't engage in romantic gossip, but enjoys watching others live their lives. One of his biggest curiosities being you, oddly enough.

This is because you've shown no interest in feeling love of any kind. Being the nosy man he is, Lilia finds your dismissal of others a bit concerning. He's not the most open person himself, yet you're a young human. This is when you should be wild! Surely you must feel something, considering all the 'escapades' you've been on with other students. The best way to bond is over shared trauma - he's not endorsing it. Just stating a fact.

"It's nothing personal. I'd rather not get too attached considering my living circumstances, if you catch my drift" you say in response to his prying.

He indeed 'catches the drift' and sees a bit of himself reflected in you. You were not unkind, yet also not overzealous. You did not push others away, yet also made an effort to protect yourself. For all the kind deeds you've done, Lilia knew better than to think it a case of bleeding heart syndrome. You remind him of how he was when deciding to raise Silver - afraid and very good at hiding it for the sake of others.

He decides to step in against his better judgement. If anything to repay the kindness you've done Malleus and his two youngsters. He couldn't watch you waste the precious life you’ve been given huddled away in isolation. Lilia would become your confident, as he is the most equipped to endure inevitably bidding farewell. If anything he will encourage you to forge stronger bonds of your own accord without fear.

He does an outstanding job at being the extrovert adopting an introvert. His favorite hobby being to startle you - popping out from random places like trees, bushes, the ceiling, your closet, etc. So much that you grow accustomed to his antics and expect them. Going so far as to always carry hard candies in your coat pocket as a peace offering.

He invites you to play online video games, go shopping, and sometimes pops by your dorm with Malleus. However his visits soon become solo, sensing that his adopted son didn't enjoy his 'nightly stroll' with his best friend being invaded. Lilia didn't mind - it meant that he'd get your company all to himself! There was nothing like watching a few horror flicks and tormenting Grimm after them. You even had a guest room in case he felt too ‘lazy’ to fly home.

On your birthday, he bakes a cake and leaves it on your kitchen windowsill. You found it, and even thanked him 'happily' later that day. He never said he was the chef though....you must have quite a keen sense of taste! That or he must be so talented that you know his cooking by heart!

Lilia felt a sense of relief, seeing your mannerisms shift from neutral to happy as time passed. It was hard work ebbing away at those walls of yours. It's not good for humans to be stressed. It lessens their already short lifespan.

He really should step aside. Let you befriend more humans and people that will support your journey. Except he doesn't want to. Philia's taken root in his heart - you're now a friend. An actual one.

So...he doesn't let go.

You join the college's boardgame club, and Lilia feels honored that he's the first you ask to play with. Each time you sought his company made him feel young again. Thrills did tend to follow your wake after all.

You often spent many evenings teaching Malleus, Silver, and even Sebek about your world. Not something Lilia planned for, but seeing you open up about it put his mind at ease. The different cultures, history, trends - Lilia listens in happily as well. Going so far as to learn some of your favorite recipes. He wants to cook them right away, but agrees to wait for your company. You grew nervous when he brought the topic up, possibly because you didn't want to be left out? Surely, that must be why.

Soon comes another January 1st - Signifying a new year and also Lilia’s birthday. The night prior he was out on the prowl, flying free throughout campus, watching people party and celebrate. Normally he’d spend this evening having fun of his own, but being caged at a school left him little chances to be free. Jumping across rooftops and sneaking around doing parkour was a trip down memory lane. The fireworks and lively people made for an excellent atmosphere.

By chance he happened on your rooftop, and decided to pop in for a quick respite. Slipping in through an open window was child’s play, as was avoiding your paranormal houseguests and popping in and out of rooms.

His keen hearing picks up your voice coming from the main bedroom - and normally he wouldn’t invade a personal space but the door was open. So obviously it was an invitation. He sticks to the ceiling and crawls to a shrouded corner with a mischievous grin.

How unsuspecting you were - dressed up in fancy clothes and muttering to yourself while in front of a floor length mirror. Lilia thinks you’re going to a party and is prepping to tag along -

“Alright. I can do this,” you mutter and turn around to pace the floor. A neatly wrapped present is clutched tight in your hands - wrapped in ivory paper with a sparkly pink ribbon. Lilia freezes just when he’s about to jump down, and clings back to the wall. “Just give it to him. Give it and tell him how you feel,” you turn towards the mirror, holding the box out, “Hello there Lilia. Yes, this is a birthday present. Yes, you’re a year older, how exciting! By the way I really like you so would you want to go on a date?” You fall silent, cringing in disgust at your reflection before sitting on the bed, “Ah. That was such dogshit”

Lilia exits as swift as he entered. The night air whips against his skin as he transforms into a bat and is already on the way back home. The implications of what he just witnessed weighing heavily on his mind.

This would not be the first time someone has caught feelings for him. You don't go 700 years without any suitors - he'd always turn them down with careful consideration.

Except he doesn't want to this time. That's the major issue.

The flight home was long, with purposeful detours until he felt tired enough to retire. A familiar bitter ache stung his heart. He'd only felt this disappointment once prior, and swore off letting it bud again.

Eros.

Lilia was in love too. He recognized the passion growing long before this moment, and against his better judgement let it fester.

"Seems I'm not as equipped to handle this as I once believed" he says to no-one and moves to play some online games instead of sleeping.

Lilia once felt a love he couldn’t express through anything other than fealty and devotion. It was a darker time where there was no promise of future. He swore not to endure that pain again - yet this is similar yet also different. The love is blooming effortlessly. His devotion is growing. The desire is there and so is the fear. All the same feelings yet without the dire weight of external forces adding pressure. This time it’s his choice to follow through. There’s no bigger force at play stopping him. Not even your mortality, considering how his lifespan is almost at its close.

Yet for all his years of wisdom, the thought of putting his heart out was still as frightening as the first.

In truth, Lilia had ulterior reasons for pursuing your companionship other than worry or repaying a debt. Your behaviors did remind him of his past self. That was no lie. He simply felt affection blooming upon your first meeting and thought having your friendship would morph it into something more tame. He had a habit of drawing in lost souls - what was one more?

Now the affection is stronger, and you return it.

Heavens, was he being given another chance? After all these years.

You return it. It's requited. He needn't hide it for the sake of someone else's happiness. Lilia could be selfish, if only he let himself.

The next day, Lilia finds an ivory box with a sparkly pink ribbon outside his door. A neatly written letter is attached, with the words 'Happy Birthday' written on the front. His name is written on the tag in black ink, with your name signed as the sender.

Lilia picks it up and undoes the wrapping with nimble movements. Inside is an assortment of treats that he wanted to try from your home, and a neatly folded letter atop them. It details exactly what was expected, a perfect explanation of your feelings that's entirely different than the nervous display he intruded upon.

He looks around the hallway, checking to see if you’re nearby before disappearing without a trace. Nothing but an open door showing that he left.

Everything after is a blur. While doing the dishes back at your dorm and trying not to think of the present - Lilia appears out of nowhere, startling you for what was probably the first time in months. His typical cheeky grin and snicker were nowhere in sight.

He says one thing, “Are you certain?”. The words held a heavy meaning for the both of you.

Asking if he’s willing to go for one last chance. To take one final risk or simply be satisfied with all he’s accomplished thus far. It asks if you’re willing to do the same - to risk everything you’ve built in one fell swoop.

You nod, and Lilia smiles. Not an impish smirk or a snarky grin. A true, soft smile that is full of released tension. He happily hugs you from behind as you finish working in silence, gradually slipping back to his playful ways yet not entirely. He would remain the out of touch peepaw that you so loved to tease him as, but a bit of his youthful spirit was being revived. His inner self being healed, perhaps.

He loves you, and the world hasn’t split in two. It was his time.

Finally.

From then on he had no reservations in loving you. This was a new form of eros. A new passion filled with joy and living for the moment - versus the weight of time holding him back like it did when he was younger. Nothing changed in your dynamic other than he now had the strength to let himself love freely.

Which is exactly why he wastes no more time. Just as he told you off hand long ago, one should not make a vow of eternal love lightly. He’d take his own advice and seek his own happiness for the first time in hundreds of years.

On a random night with no inkling of warning, Lilia drags you out of bed to the Ramshackle rooftop in nothing but your nightclothes. It wasn’t the first time he’d ask for a midnight escapade - just for the thrill and surprise, most of the time. He loved to keep things exciting.

Except he was being far too gentle. Far too nostalgic. He sits you down on the edge of the roof and puts his cardigan over your shoulders. Not a word passes between you as he tucks it snug around your shoulders - his hand tracing the line of your cheekbones, down your arms and to your hands. He cradles them gently, never taking his eyes from yours.

Then something foreign glimmers against your finger. In an effortless motion, he slipped the ring on without pause. You can’t help but stare at the gem in thought, looking between it and Lilia’s thoughtful expression over and over.

Lilia nods, taking your hand in his and running his thumb over the ring - admiring it against your skin.

“I’ve lived many years. Lead many lives. I thought I had accepted my nearing end, yet I find myself wanting more. I want to grey with grace at your side. To enjoy mundane evenings - greet you come morning and kiss you to seal a day’s end. I want my last life to be at your side, if only you will have me”

{A blood red garnet placed inside a blossom frame. Lilia’s ring is made of silver, and gives the illusion of a red rose in a bed of vines. Red is the color of passion, devotion, and unconditional love. Red roses hold this very meaning in the language of flowers. Lilia has felt this before - but you are his fated. You have chosen him simply for the person he is - not who he needs to be. He can finally be free and at peace. Your love is something he can selfishly hoard and it gives him the desire to enjoy life. He feels full. Happy. He hopes that this ring shows that he wants to live for the moment by your side, eternally}

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #diasomnia #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines

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anantaru · 27 days

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ being sweaty and filthy with the scribe // cw. dom alhaitham, ass slapping, fem! reader

the room was stuffy, boiling hot. sweltering in a heat far exceeding that of summer vehemence.

just now, you find yourself trapped between the mattress and alhaitham, legs carefully pushed against your chest as you cannot tell if it's the exhaust in your body turning you more vulnerable or the specific method he used to accentuate the blissed-out shimmer on your frame.

sweat sticks over the linen as you move with the bed frame in perpetuum hitting the wall behind. notwithstanding the fact, you two remained deeply rooted there, squeezed into one another as alhaitham moves his hips leisurely— his voice echoing endearing frowns whenever he felt you kiss his neck.

in the dim duskiness of the room, his skin and muscles were a whole lot easier to distinguish due to the persistant sweat making his nude body shine, droplets of filth dragging down the rills of his abs and urging you to admire them.

alhaitham noses around your neck before he inhales your scent, shortly after exhaling through his mouth within a crumbled groan. he's addicted to how you taste and smell like— it's truly evoking emotions in him, how it's rich in your signature scent, with a top layer floating a note of liquid sweetness. his gaze slowly slips down to your smooth eyelids fluttering up at him, a little dazed by the consumption of pleasure, yet the tender shadow of his lashes and those plump, parted lips would only make you crave him more.

for a moment, he doesn't move and leaves his cock settled within your walls, a small grimace of ache twitching at his lips when you squeeze down on him, a heavy swirl of your arousal forming a base note on his shaft— it's all sticky, filling you in a giddy rush as the man groans upon seeing the mess you're making.

alhaitham reaches down to your ass, teasingly hovering over it before giving the flesh a good squeeze, shortly after pressing you into him so you could feel his tip nudge into your deepest places. your mind was scavenging through the intense feelings of how good it felt to have him touch you so effortlessly that it's almost scary by how well he knew you— in fact, his movements and traces on you were always so powerful and overwhelming that it drives you towards ways that defy any reason and logic.

he gravitates your chest against your own, bringing your hearts closer when you wrap your legs around his chiseled waist, feeling his desire for you beating louder as each second slithers his love for you into your body. you let out a choked yelp in surprise when he lightly slaps his palm across your ass to make the flesh jiggle, afterwards soothing the pulsing spot as he watches with big, loving hearts displayed on his eyes at the way you're reacting to him.

you conceal your face into his neck as drool spills from your mouth when alhaitham began to hump you into the mattress. he fixates on your reactions first as he pleads for you to please, "look at me," as your fingers interlock, your sopping pussy throbbing with heat as his erection strokes along your walls, swiftly unraveling every notice of the veins on his shaft pinching into you so recklessly.

alhaitham murmurs endearingly under his breath in addition to wrecking your insides, always serving you the perfect amount of both— and a mirage of need coils down the entirety of your spine when his body fuses into your skin, making your thighs shake as sweat sticks you together.

your sticky cunt slaps against him with each rut stealing your stamina, your legs twitching with raging effort as alhaitham continued to hold them for you and keep them in place, your stretched and used hole turning into a dripping mess against his entire erection that he was slowly able to make out a filthy ring of white gathering on his base.

what's best to the scribe you ask? he finds it adorable when you were attempting to moan, sob and spell out his name within a whimper, yet all you did in the end was babble out a bunch of sweet nonsense while your nails were digging into his muscular flesh, flickering your traces into him.

yet it wasn't enough, it couldn't possibly be? because you see, your hands were clawing futilely at his lower back in order to make him grind into you deeper, appearing so desperate for his touch.

it's not long before you're gushing, clamping down on him until temptation scratches your insides in anguish.

if need be, you wanted to stroke, lick, and suck every greedy inch of him, even with your eyes lidding and abdomen clenching to break the coil inside of it— and alhaitham knew, he can feel how you're getting wetter or how the throbs and tingles of your walls blazed through his erection.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you

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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months

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Charles Leclerc - Arthur, you are not French...yeah Charles, drag his ass!

I’ve been excited to write this chapter! I know that reader is a Red Bull driver, but I am a Tifosi through and through. Charles holds such a special place in my heart (but so does Max). I feel like one of those “breaking my silence – how I got into F1,” low and behold, I got into the sport from that one Ferrari thirst trap where Charles is lying on the couch. Yeah, you know, that one.

Anywho, I write these little things before I even get to writing the story and sometimes I don’t even know where I’m going with it. I know it's not Christmas yet, but the people spoke - SO HERE WE GO!

Sadly, the tag list is closed to do us reaching the 50 people mark! I never thought that I’d get there though with my story! So thank you to every one of you for making that happen!

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3

Your beanie had started to itch. You had needed it outside due to the cold weather, but now that you were in the car with the heat cranked, it was starting to get a little too warm. As you pulled up to the red light, your hand quickly yanked the hat off. Not to your surprise, your hair was sticking in all directions. That’s ok, you could fix it before you walked into the house. The light turned green, and you had to remind yourself that this was a regular car, on a regular street. Not a hybrid-engine-ran rocket ship that exceeded 300 kilometers per hour on sweet Grand Prix asphalt.

This year, you had finally accepted Arthur’s invitation for Christmas. Earlier, you had done Christmas morning and afternoon with Max, Kelly, and Penelope. It was everything you could have wished for. And now you were going to spend the rest of the evening with your best friend and his family. You were a tab bit nervous. Sure, you had met them on a handful of occasions, but you tried not to get too close. They were always at grand prixes for Arthur, not you.

You glanced at the presents that were stacked on the passenger side. The most important one, however, was placed in a bag on the floor. You were not about to let that fall over and possibly break. You knew it was made to be sturdy, but you couldn’t be sure. Arthur had given you the gate key. You pulled up to the little black box and pressed the numbers. You rolled your eyes as you realized that it was just Charles’s and Arthur’s racing numbers squished together.

Arthur had also reminded you that Lorenzo was not going to be joining due to him being at his wife’s family’s for the holiday. That was one less person to impress you had told yourself.

You pulled into their driveway and parked your car. It was not as impressive at Charles’s custom 488 Ferrari Pista Spider. It wasn’t as if you were almost drooling at the sight of it. Knowing yourself, you’d probably be too scared to drive it to actually enjoy it. Max also had a Ferrari, maybe he’d let you drive it.

In a parking lot and not exceeding 5 kph. You snorted. Yep, that was Max.

You did however, have your eye on two special cars. But you wanted to wait a bit before purchasing. You Pinterest board was full of different ideas, but you had to be careful. Maybe Christian could help you out with purchasing. You technically hadn’t bought this car, it was a gift from Lorenzo. You wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it might be nice to have more than one car. Besides, multiple drivers had multiple cars. You’d just join their ranks.

Juggling the presents, you walked to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Your face was hardly visible over the tops of the boxes. The door opened and a familiar voice sounded.

“Mon Dieu, let me help you.” Presents were being taken from the big stack.

“Thank you Charles.” You prided yourself on being one of the few people who could recognize the difference between Arthur’s and Charles’s voices. He didn’t reply as he took the presents farther into the house. You followed him through the door and toed off your shoes. Your eyes caught all the lights and decorations in the house. Growing up, you didn’t have such things. Your family always said that being in karting was always going to be your present. Nothing more, nothing less. There were no cookies for Santa and no tree to decorate.

As you walked more into the warm house, the decorations just kept getting better. Where Max’s house was decorated by Kelly who like a clean Christmas aesthetic, the Leclerc household leaned towards the warmer decorations. The lights didn’t necessarily match and flickered colorful light. The stockings weren’t the same color: they showed personality that matched their owner. Even the ornaments weren’t all from the same container. You found Charles staring down at the presents that he had taken from you.

“Who are these for?” he turned his head to look at you.

You snorted, “They’re for your family.” His eyes widened as he rubbed his chin.

“You didn’t have to.”

You only shrugged as you began to take off your coat, “I felt like I did. You all have been so kind to invite me here on a holiday that I couldn’t come empty handed.” Charles gestured for your jacket and you gave it to him.

“You can look around some more if you’d like to. Arthur and maman will be back from the store soon.” Your cheeks heated at the thought of him catching you ogling at his home. You shook the thought away and looked at everything a little bit closer.

Like all homes seemed to have, there was a wall filled with picture frames. Some were of each child; some had the full family. It was nice to see all 5 of them together in the center one. You cocked you head at one of them though. You all but tiptoed to get a closer look. It was one of Charles and Arthur, and then an unfamiliar but familiar man stood between them.

“That’s Jules. If you were wondering.”

You jumped in place, not noticed that he had snuck up behind you. You looked over and saw that a sad smile had graced his face. Arthur had told you little about him. Charles and Lorenzo would always have been much closer to him.

“I met him once. During karting,” you trailed off. Charles raised his eyebrows.

“Really?” It seemed as though the breath had been knocked out of him.

You gave him a comforting smile, “Yeah. My race was right after yours. I think it was back in 2010,” you looked back at the picture, “and you won that day. I watched him cheer for you like he was the proudest person there that day. He was in a racing suit and had a helmet. I thought that he had come straight from a race or something. But, I only remember wishing that I had someone there for me like you had.”

Charles now had a guess as to what day that was. He vaguely remembered finally beating Max and feeling so happy. But, he didn’t remember Jules having a helmet. He took the picture down so that the two of you could look closer. It was definitely not taken the day that you were talking about, but the way you talked about him intrigued Charles. He gave you a head nod, silently saying to continue.

“That day, I also won my race. It hadn’t been the easiest, but the boys were too busy pushing each other off that they didn’t even notice me. I was able to overtake and win. The boys though, weren’t the only ones who didn’t notice. My parents weren’t around when I looked for them. I must have turned around so many times, just trying to find them, but I never did. I had taken my kart back to my station when someone tapped me on the shoulder. He scared the ever-loving crap out of me, but he held my shoulder and told me that I did a great job.”

Your eyes were slightly watering at the confession. Charles just continued to look at you.

“I knew who he was. He was the man who always cheered for the Justin Bieber look-a-like who liked to push a certain Dutchman off the track, into a puddle, and claim it was just an inchident.” Charles snorted.

“I did not look like Justin Bieber.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” He gave you a look. “American expression. Anyway, after he said that he gave me a hug before my dad came stomping over, complaining about something, I don’t even remember. But all I know is that he made my entire day. My godfather wasn’t able to visit that much or come see me race. So, it was nice to have someone in my corner, even if they weren’t truly there for me.”

Charles hung the picture back on the wall. The two of you stood there for a quiet moment before Charles spoke up. “How’s your godfather?”

You inhaled sharply. “He died in 2020. Caught some illness in 2018 and wasn’t able to recover.”

It broke Charles’s heart to hear you talk about it so nonchalantly.

“Does Arthur know?”

You nodded your head. “He caught me crying the first year of his anniversary. Made me spill the beans about what happened. He thought he needed to go beat someone up.” You let out a wet chuckle. When did you even start crying? Looking at Charles, you saw that he was crying too. You continued, “Lorenzo, he, uh, died the day before I debuted in F2.”

Memories hit Charles like an 18-wheeler. That was you? He remembered that most of the F1 drivers had been invited since the F1 and F2 races were so close together. Hell, even Max was given the opportunity to give the winner the trophy. He remembers watching you dominate that race. He watched you offer that trophy to the sky. He saw a hunger that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

He finally spoke up, “You were incredible.”

“Thank you,” you paused before adding, “he’d be proud of you. Jules, I mean.” You looked back at the picture and how it seemed right at home amongst the others.

“Lorenzo would be proud of you as well.” You flashed him a grateful smile, full of teeth. He mirrored, dimples prominent.

You threw your head back and laughed. Charles cocked his head.

“What’s the matter?” he barely got out as he began to laugh as well.

You poked his cheeks, “You and Thur have the same dimples.” Charles rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair. You pouted. “Rude.”

He was about to reciprocate but the sound of the door opening caught the two of yours attention. Charles quickly pushed you into a dark room. You gave him a confused look before he put a finger to his lips. You smirked back and stayed silent.

Pascale walked in first followed by Arthur. Charles greeted his mother and then brother.

“I saw Y/n’s car in the driveway. Where is she?” Arthur looked around the house.

“She went to the bathroom, but hasn’t come back. I think I scared her off,” Charles faked a sad look.

Arthur flashed a comforting smile to his brother. “I’ll go find her. Hopefully she didn’t fall in or something.” That almost made you laugh.

Arthur flipped on the lights to the hallway. This was your chance. He barely got past the doorframe before you jumped out onto him.

His squeal echoed through the room, laughter following it. In your grand scheme, you had accidentally fallen on top of him. Your giggles continued as Arthur tried to push you off. He finally gave up after a few moments. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, but honestly you didn’t care. You swear you heard a click of a camera, but you disregarded it.

“Are you done?” Arthur sarcastically asked.

“No, I’m actually quite comfortable. Thank you for asking though,” you smirked. After a few more moments later, Arthur quickly rolled you off and got up. You let out a huff before making grabby hands at him. He rolled his eyes and pulled you up.

You were finally able to greet Pascale. She brought you into a hug and did the two kisses. You reciprocated. It came naturally after being teammates with Arthur for so long. You smiled at the memory of him doing it to you for the first time. He was so embarrassed after until you calmed him down enough to say that you didn’t mind. You knew it was a part of his culture and that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed to do so.

“Thank you for inviting me.” You shot her a shy smile. She rubbed your back before exiting the hug.

“There is no need for thanks. Arthur has been begging for years.” A noise of protest rang through the air.

“I have not.”

“Non, it’s true. He has.” Charles looked at his brother. Arthur had a look of betrayal that sent you spiraling into another laughing fit.

By the time you were finished, Arthur gave you a look.

“Where’s you Christmas sweater?” You looked down at the one you were wearing. You thought it looked just fine. It was a nice dark green and Kelly had complimented you many times.

“I thought this looked nice?” You were beginning to doubt. Maybe you couldn’t do this Christmas thing.

Arthur shook his head before disappearing down a hallway.

You glanced at Charles and whispered, “I ruined it didn’t I?” You looked down at your feet.

“Non gosse, you didn’t ruin anything. Just look.” You looked back up and saw that Arthur now had another sweater in his hands. (translation : no kid)

“I can’t believe I forgot to give you this. Sorry Y/n, we normally wear ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters to celebrate. The one you have on is fine, but this is the Leclerc celebration now.” He all but shoved you towards a bathroom so that you could change. You slipped the other dark green sweater on after you took off your first one.

The front made you laugh. It wasn’t ugly per say, Arthur must have toned it down for you. On the front was the Grinch. It was actually kind of cute if you thought about it. You folded your first sweater and walked out. Now you noticed that Charles’s had a bright orange sweater with a gamer Santa on it; Arthur’s actually lit up; and Pascale had a cute one with a reindeer on it.

When he noticed your return, Arthur’s arms shot up. “Now you look festive!”

“How long did it take you to find that one TurTur?” You motioned your finger up and down, pointed at his sweater.

His arms crossed protectively around it as he let his jaw hang. “I’ll have you know that this is imported.”

You gave him a bombastic side eye. “Sure.”

Pascale clapped her hands, “Picture time by the tree!”

You kind of awkwardly stood there as she took pictures of the two boys. You warmly smiled as she gushed over the two of them. You made your way to the kitchen and picked up two bottles. Were these alcoholic? You squinted at the label.

“Y/n!” You froze and looked at the family of three. Arthur was snickering.

“You know you’re not allowed to drink yet.” You rolled your eyes.

Charles shot you a mischievous smile. “Gosse, come, we’ll send a picture to old Maxy. Maybe give him a heart attack.”

You smirked back as you walked with the two bottles. You posed in front of the tree with the glasses on either side of you. The four of you laughed as you set them down. You wanted to make a run for it, as to not ruin the pictures, but Pascale insisted that she wanted one of the three of you.

Your heart swelled as she took a picture of you in the middle of Arthur and Charles. She also insisted to get one of just you and Arthur. Your cheeks heated as you caught her muttering about a picture to show your kids one day. You only hoped that Arthur hadn’t heard.

He did and his heart soared at the thought.

Once the pictures were done, everyone was able to have a few snacks and drinks, yours of course being non-alcoholic.

Then it was time for the presents. The thing you were worried about the most. You soon found yourself seated on the floor in a half circle. Pascale was the only one in a chair, but you didn’t blame her. The boys were the ones to pass out the presents. To your surprise, you had received three presents. Your eyes wanted to water, but you blinked the tears away.

They all opened the ones from you first.

Arthur lit up like a Christmas tree (pun intended) when he saw what you had gotten him. The two of you had been shopping earlier in the year, when you had come across a watch shop. Arthur had wanted to buy a specific one, but was heartbroken when they said that they were sold out. But, while Arthur was having a crisis about it, you secretly asked to be put on the waitlist. They had said that they couldn’t be 100 percent that you’d get one, but there was no harm in asking.

Surprisingly, when you got back for a small break, there was a package from the store waiting for you. You had also taken it to another watch store to have something added.

“Turn it over,” you whispered, scared of his next reaction. He inhaled sharply at what the engraving read.

January 25, 2020 – Best Friends for the Rest of Our Live, Keep at it TurTur!

Arthur quickly clamored over to you and wrapped you in a deep hug. Again, you heard the sound of a camera, but dismissed it.

Next Charles opened his. It wasn’t as sentimental as Arthur’s but you tried your best. Before hand, you had asked what type of jewelry Charles likes. You knew he was a ring and bracelet guy, but had rarely seen him with a necklace. So, you got him a simple one that he could wear with any outfit.

He thanked you with a warm smile.

Pascale was very happy with hers. Knowing that she had a hair salon, you googled many gift ideas for her. But every sing one of them to come up was always a pair of scissors. Wanting to do better, you did some more digging. Finally, you decided on one of those fancy circle vacuums that moves by itself. You knew how your back hurt after sweeping up a floor. You couldn’t imagine how her’s might feel. She also gave you a hug.

Now it was your turn.

The first present was from Arthur and it had you in tears. There in a rectangular box was a new pair of Lightning McQueen crocs.

“You know this is like my third pair right?”

He only nodded, “Yes, but are those pairs signed by Lightning McQueen himself?” Your eyes bulged as you turned them over.

You were expecting Owen Wilson’s signature, but when you read it, you laughed even harder. There on the bottom, in fancy script, was Charles’s signature. You looked over at Charles as you wiped your eyes.

“I’m honored sir.”

Charles rolled his eyes, and touched his heart, as to accept the thanks. His present wasn’t as funny, but it was appreciated. You guessed that Arthur had told him what your favorite restaurant was because his gift was a hefty gift card. Your eyes widened when you saw the total.

Pascale’s was very sentimental though. In her present were multiple pictures in frames. Some you noticed that she must have gotten from the internet or had Arthur reach out to Vito. The one that made you tear up was one of the last pictures taken of you and Lorenzo. Your smile was so bright as you held you trophy. You were looking into the camera, but Lorenzo was looking and smiling down at you. Your fingers traced his face.

You placed the pictures down and brought her into a giant hug. After you were done, you wiped your eyes, overcome with emotion. Arthur clapped his hands to bring everyone’s attention to him. You almost jumped out of your skin.

“All right, party time!” He raised his arms and started to walk toward the kitchen.

Your eyes widened as you remembered something. “Wait!”

The three of them stared at you. You inhaled.

“I have one more thing. For all three of you.” They looked at you with a puzzled look. You walked over to the counter where you had placed the black bag that you came with. You gestured for them to come over.

Arthur cocked his head, “Y/n, why’d you bring a helmet bag? We swapped helmets already.” His accent got thicker as he got more confused.

You shook your head slightly as you let out a shaky exhale. You carefully started to unzip the bag. It was true, what Arthur said. The contents were a helmet.

“Gosse, is this your new helmet for next year? It’s very outdated and I don’t think this is safe, ” Charles questioned, confused as to why you’d bring a helmet to Christmas.

However, Pascale let out a gasp as her eyes danced over the helmet, now in your hands. She put her hands to her mouth. She had recognized it immediately.

“Is this?” The rest of the question went unsaid, but you knew what she was going to say. You nodded you head and handed it to her. She turned it around, expecting all the angles. She let out a wet laugh as she carefully and slowly handed it over to Charles. Arthur stood close, looking at it as well.

“Arthur, before you got here, I was telling Charles of how I was able to meet your godfather,” you started. “And I wanted to tell you how thankful I was for his encouragement. I knew that he had come straight from a race, because he was still wearing his suit and he carried a helmet.”

Charles made a confused face, “But he didn’t have a helmet. His hands were both empty, because he caught Arthur when he ran over to him after he showed up.” You could tell that his mind was trying to connect the dots.

“Well. He wouldn’t have had the helmet,” you trailed off. Arthur’s head shot up.

“Because he gave it to you,” Arthur finished. Charles inhaled sharply as he looked over the protective gear in his hands.

Pascale had come close to you, a hand around your shoulder that rubbed up and down, trying to give some comfort.

The two boys looked as if they were going to cry. Charles let Arthur hold it.

“How? Why?” Charles questioned, tears threatening to fall.

“Well, I thought it had gotten destroyed or thrown away. I left it at my parent’s house, and when I told them I was moving out for reasons, they didn’t react well.” You didn’t want to give too much away. “I was sure that they were going to burn all of my things. But, I went back to see just in case. I was mostly correct; except they didn’t touch my closet. It was hiding in the back behind some clothes.” You remembered crying when you found it, holding it close for comfort. It had been one of the few things that you took from the house back to your apartment in Nice.

“I also wanted to bring it back, where it belongs.”

Charles glanced at you and then the helmet between Arthur’s fingers. “But, he gave it to you. You need to keep it.”

You shook your head. “Jules told me to keep it safe and to hold onto it for safe keeping. I always thought that I’d be able to give it back to him one day. I guess this is the closest thing I can do.”

Arthur gave the helmet back to his brother and walked over to you. You looked into his big blue eyes, filled with tears. Unable to hold back, he tucked his face into your neck, holding you tight. You squeezed your eyes closed, tears falling down your cheeks.

You knew that Arthur always felt bad about not being as close to his godfather, like Charles and Lorenzo had been. He had been 15 when Jules died, and you always wished that the family had had more time with him. Pressure was added on your other side. Looking over slightly, your eyes caught sight of Charles’s brown hair. You managed to put your other arm around him. You held the two brothers close, your heart melting.

Is this what a family is supposed to feel like?

Max’s family was a different dynamic. Yes, they enjoyed hugs and being close, but it wasn’t like this where you could hold each other for hours. Well, maybe Max would let you, he was so overdue for a giant group hug.

Arthur couldn’t get over the fact that you were so close. He hoped that you didn’t hear his heart racing. He’s waited this long; he can wait a little longer. His tears had dried up, but he never wanted to let you go. Your heart was too big and too fragile for anyone else to have it. But here you were, opening it up to his family. He couldn’t have asked for someone better to hold your place in his heart. He could only dream that you held him close to your heart, as he did with you to his.

You would never tell him, but you did.

Charles on the other hand could not stop the tears. He wondered how long you had waited. Shy, quiet you. Before this, he had seen you a couple of times before with Max at the beginning of the break. He’d often run into the two of you shopping or getting groceries. You’d always find a way to give a small wave, before turning to do something else while Max talked to him. He wondered what was so special about you. Max, in all his life, had never looked at something as he looked at you. It was different than the way he looked at Kelly. Heck, he even looked a Penelope differently. Charles had rolled his eyes a few more times than he’d like to admit whenever Arthur would bring you up in conversation. But now, as you tried to comfort him and his brother, he finally understood. You were the family that they were missing.

Pascale watched as the three of you broke your little hug. Smiles adorned your faces as you held the other close. She wished Lorenzo would have been here to meet you. She had a feeling that he and Charlotte would like you, as her other two sons did.

Their little celebration started moments after, the helmet at the center. Your smile never left your face for the rest of the night. You were sad that they didn’t let you sneak in one sip of the bottled drink.

“It’s probably not even good,” you told them as you took a sip of your drink.

“Y/n it is good. We French know what good alcohol is,” he took a sip. You raised an eyebrow and smirked as you saw Charles gawk at him.

“Arthur, you are not French,” you watched as Charles put an arm around Arthur’s neck. You were quick to grab his drink so it wouldn’t stain the carpet. “Yeah Charles, drag his ass!”

Arthur held out a hand, dramatically going down. “My best friend betraying me for my brother. Could this day get any worse?”

“Charles, you should have heard all the times he said that he was French when we would do videos.” You smirked evilly at the two.

“Y/n! You weren’t supposed to tell him!”

“Arthur, how many times to I have to tell you? WE ARE NOT FRENCH, WE ARE MONAGUESQE!!

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seakicker · 11 months

Note

mother's day hc that you tell the genshin boys you're pregnant on mother's day so they decide to celebrate by getting you double pregnant?

YES MA’AM i had a randomizer pick four names for me out of all the guys i write for… kinda laughing at 3/4 of them being all the Serious, Stoic ones lol

fem reader, pregnancy, breeding, overstimulation (alhaitham) and knotting (gorou) below!

alhaitham

You can never be too sure, he says— a good, valid experiment hinges upon proper reliability. Do you know how many undergraduate experimental reports he’s dismissed on account of their supposed “results” being the chance of mere coincidence or random chance? It never hurts to eliminate the possibility of a false positive and to ensure that your positive pregnancy test result is a true positive by breeding you all over again and having you take another pregnancy test in five weeks or so.

When you tell him you’re pregnant, he responds with a quiet nod before almost analyzing all of the behavior you’ve displayed over the last few weeks. Yes, the news makes perfect sense— last week, Alhaitham overheard you wondering aloud if your period was late or if you had just tracked it wrong, and he’d have to be a fool to not know what a missed period is the universal signifier of. The news comes at a perfect time, so he couldn’t be happier— though your husband certainly has a… uniquely stoic way of expressing happiness.

That night, he replicates every last aspect of the night he imagines he got you pregnant some five weeks ago (it’s a simple calculation, really) down to your spot on the bed and the clothes he was wearing just to make sure that a false positive is out of the question. Perhaps he’ll have to come inside if you twice tonight just to really seal the deal that you’re pregnant— once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is a true pattern. You’d like to try and convince him that surely there’s no need for all of this, that pregnancy tests rarely, rarely fail or show an incorrect result, but there’s no pushing back against your husband’s logical calculations or sense of reason— not that you’re much in the condition to even try to speak with him anyways.

When your husband has you spread open wide with your knees pressed up against either side of your chest, a light conversation is absolutely out of the picture. You’d consider it a feat to muster up anything other than splintered whines of your husband’s name and delicate pleas for him to slow down— though, truthfully, it’d be an even bigger feat if you managed to successfully convince Alhaitham of doing the latter. He hasn’t stalled or slowed his pace for even a fraction of a second because he, of course, is trying to replicate the night he very likely knocked you up exactly, and he just so happened to be absolutely railing you that night.

“You can certainly take more than this.” That’s all he offers when you beg him to slow down again. “I’ve discovered, met, and exceeded every last one of your limits myself, and this pace, this position, and this fervor hardly come close to any of those. I’m simply validating your claim before I take to preparing the spare room for our child.”

You gasp and let your head fall back against the pillow, defeated and overwhelmed in equal tandem by your husband’s delightful Mother’s Day plans.

Alhaitham only chuckles once, a satisfied smirk so faint on his lips that you almost don’t catch it at all. “You’ll be alright. We’ll have nine entire months to be gentle.”

zhongli

Zhongli has lived a normal human lifetime nearly ninety times over— yet, fascinatingly, he always insists he’s come nowhere close in experiencing everything life, nature, humanity, and civilization have to offer, an assertion you’ve always found downright impossible to fathom. How does somebody not get bored after six thousand years of life? You know people who are bored after just four years of working in the same career before they jump ship and try to find something, anything completely different.

He offers the exact same explanation every single time you once again ask how he still finds things to do, places to go, and activities to enjoy after being alive for so long— he always, always smiles softly and explains that he never gets bored with life because you’re in it, and you show him new things, new foods, and new ways to love and enjoy the world that he never even imagined prior to meeting you.

You’ll admit that you’ve found his reasoning somewhat hard to believe on a few separate occasions— like he’s seriously been alive for over six thousand years, yet he’s never tried red bean ice cream from Inazuma before? It’s not exactly a rare or expensive good. However, there are other times when you think you understand what he means, and his logic has never been more evident than today because you told your darling husband that you’re pregnant this morning.

“I’ve never been a father before,” Zhongli hums as he presses a wide circle of kisses all around the cusp of your tummy. “I’ve tutored and taught many, but I’ve never raised a child as my own from their very birth.”

“Does it make you nervous?” You grip his left hand a little tighter as his right comes to rub a soothing circle over the apex of your soft belly.

He pauses for a moment. “I see no reason to be afraid of new experiences, let alone ones I have you to guide me through. I’ve found that sampling life’s uncertainties and navigating its surprises provide far more enrichment than routine.”

You laugh. “I don’t think I can do much ‘guiding’ here, my love— I’ve never been a mother before either. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Zhongli melts. How do you always know just how to tickle his heart with the most innocuous of statements?

“And that is exactly why I’m not nervous— because we’ll have each other to both learn from and learn alongside. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life being the teacher and not the student, so opportunities to learn with you excite me.”

All you can do is hide your face with your free hand, your cheeks warm and your grin obvious. Your husband chuckles and kisses a line down the bottom half of your tummy, down your hips, and all the way down, down, down until he runs into the fabric of your panties.

“I’ve read that intimacy during pregnancy has an array of positive effects for a mother,” Zhongli notes, gently sliding a hand down to tug your panties to the side. “We’ll have to try every last tip and wives’ tale, won’t we, my love?”

diluc

Completely opposite to that of Zhongli, Diluc’s perspective on celebratory sex on Mother’s Day is that it’s about as tired, cliche, and lazy as celebratory sex on a birthday, New Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day. Really, any other holiday where people feel the need to either supplement their actual present with sex because they fear what they really bought their spouse just isn’t good enough on its own or because they forgot to get them a present entirely.

Or so he says.

He’s always been of the opinion that love and intimacy expressed on a random day of the year without any special meaning bears more weight than celebratory holiday sex— why should sex be included as part of the celebratory experience when a married couple is expected to regularly display intimacy towards one another? You’ve teased him about this cynical, grumpy take plenty of times, but you’ve almost come to agree with him regardless— it’s hard to even have the energy for sex at the end of your birthday or on the evening of Valentine’s Day when you’re just so exhausted by everything Diluc planned for you during the day. Perhaps it’s entirely because he doesn’t take special occasions lightly that he sees no need to end the day on a cliche.

Well, there’s a first for everything.

“I thought you don’t do celebratory sex,” you whimper with a sharp inhale. You had meant for the statement to sound more teasing and alluring, but it’s damn near impossible to keep your composure when your husband’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.

Diluc, for the first time in ninety minutes, actually pulls away from your slick, saliva-coated pubic mound to stare up at you over your tummy. How amusing— this is the smallest he’ll see your tummy for the next nine months, and something tells him he’s not going to miss it whatsoever.

“We’ve never celebrated Mother’s Day before simply because you were never a mother for any of them. Today is different— and of course this news deserves celebration.” That’s right— you did mention to Diluc that you’re pregnant this morning over breakfast, didn’t you?

You take advantage of this impromptu break to make eye contact with your husband, who hasn’t looked this… disheveled in quite some time. Bangs plastered to his forehead, nose and chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your fluids, and pupils blown wide with desire, this is a Diluc you don’t get to see very often— and you know how to revel in the treat.

“Making exceptions to your own rules doesn’t suit you.” There, that one actually sounded teasing.

He offers a sort of shrug in response. “I’d have to be devoid of all emotion entirely to not want to celebrate my wife’s body when she tells me it’s pregnant with our very first child.” He glides his soaked lips down the inside of your thighs elegantly and with purpose, taking care to stop just before where thigh meets labia to really relish in your scent.

“Besides,” Diluc murmurs. “I’d like to map out how your body looks now so I can properly appreciate how much lovelier you’ll look once you begin to actually show how well I’ve bred you.”

gorou

Gorou tentatively asks you to repeat yourself just to make sure that he heard you properly, which carries a good amount of irony given his exceptionally superhuman hearing. He just wants to make sure he heard you properly— telling him you’re pregnant on Mother’s Day? He can’t think of anything more perfect than that, so it’d be a shame if he just imagined you saying it— he’s dreamed of being a father for so long now that if you were to hit him with a “gotcha” now, he might faint from disappointment.

Realistically, he should’ve put two and two together three weeks ago, but leave it to your husband to miss something glaringly obvious without your explicit guidance or direction. It’s almost funny to think that, despite his keen sense of smell, taste, and hearing, his overprotective nature, and his well-developed common sense, it’s so easy for him to miss the elephant in the room and get distracted by something incredibly unrelated to whatever he’s supposed to be looking out for.

He should have known from the second he found himself growing more and more overprotective of you without any visible or tangible piece of evidence as to why— you weren’t sick, you weren’t injured, and you weren’t otherwise vulnerable… or so he thought. It wasn’t obvious to him at the time, but now that you’ve confirmed it for him… it makes perfect sense. His nose already knew you were pregnant then— he picked up in the slightest change in your hormone levels without even realizing it, and now that he knows you’re pregnant?

He won’t leave your side for a single moment these next nine months.

Apparently, his vow to stay by your side 24/7 started the very moment you first broke the news to him— with your husband pressed so close up against you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you two just simply combined. Gorou’s hips slap against your ass so roughly and so quickly the sound of skin making contact with skin bounces off the walls and fills your ears, almost threatening to drown out your husband’s elated rambling.

Almost, but not quite. Nothing will get him to stop talking once he’s already started running his mouth.

“I just— I’ve just wanted this for so long,” he pants, looping his hands around your thighs to press them against the front your belly. “It’s just instinct, I guess? I just— Archons— there’s no better way to spend my life than with a sweet wife and a big, big family of our cute little pups.” He’ll be sure to keep you pregnant now that the precedent has already been established— Gorou knows he’ll miss taking you doggy style when your belly gets too big to safely attempt such a position, but he’s sure he can figure out a nice, comfortable compromise.

“I’ll get lots of time off from work! It’ll be easy. I’ll spend every day taking good, good care of you and our family because that’s— that’s what good husbands do, right? I’ll get Thoma to teach me tons of nutritious meals for you because I only know how to prepare quick rations for troops,” Gorou notes with a sheepish chuckle before he hunches over your back and whimpers brokenly. Will you still be able to take his knot while you’re pregnant, or will it be too much for you? He can’t push you too far now that you’re the most delicate you’ve ever been, heavy with the promise of a big family, right?

“I love you so much,” he gasps, nails digging into your belly softly as he loses control of himself. “And I’ll be the best father possible!”

#happy belated mother’s day to all you gorjust people #reblog to get triple pregnant #cw breeding #cw pregnancy #spicy #alhaitham smut #zhongli smut #diluc smut #gorou smut #gorou x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #alhaitham x reader #fem reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 25 days

Text

Professor, I didn’t cheat.

Summary: reader is a top student at her university. always exceeding in her courses and even taking the liberty to do study groups with other students to help them. Professor Kennedy finds out that the reader and this other student have the same thesis for an upcoming paper. What happens when he confronts y/n after class?

Warning: fem reader. Professor Leon. make out. breast play. creampie. age gap. CONSENTED.

a/n: I HATE my political class. I don’t understand anything😭 I was put in a group full of of guys and I deadass felt so out of place

(pt.1) (pt.2)

You always took notes during his lectures. You always made sure to jot down every single detail, even if it was something that you could search online. Your studies were important to you. You wanted to be the best so you strived for academic success. Many students valued your ambitious character but others were jealous.

Today’s lecture was more of an exam day. You always aced your tests, given that you studied the night before. You were one of the first students to finish their exam. You and the girl next to you finished at the same time and walked up to Leon’s desk to turn it in. You took your backpack with you as you laid the exam flat on his wooden desk. He gave you a curt nod, and then one to the other girl.

You both walked out of the classroom without any issues.

Until Leon emailed you that he wanted to have a private conference with you.

You panicked. What could have possibly have gone wrong? Or maybe he knew of an opportunity that you could take, like a job or a scholarship you should apply. Most professors did that, they helped their best students.

So when you walked to his office Monday morning, your gut feeling sank as you noticed the look on his face. It was a mixture of disappointment and disapproval. He motioned for you to step up to his desk, “Y/n, glad you’re here. Please, take a seat.” He sat down on his desk chair while you took one of the chair in front of his desk.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here,” He began as he shuffled through some papers.

What could have possibly called you for? Nevertheless, you responded, “Yes, Professor, I am.”

He looked at you for a brief moment before laying a piece of paper in front of you. It was your exam, not graded yet, but it was yours. You furrowed your brows in confusion and then looked at him, “This is my exam…what’s wrong with it?”

He cleared his throat and rested his hands on his desk, “Look, I’m going to be straight with you. You’re an excellent student. The best student I’ve had so far.” He began slowly but you felt anxious, where was this going to?

“However, academic integrity is part of the student conduct every student must follow. I cannot grade your exam, y/n.”

It was as if time stopped. Your eyes widened, your heart was beating out of your chest. The silence was deafening, the pit in your stomach dropped heavy. “If you don’t grade this exam, I’ll fail the course,” you replied anxiously, “I can’t afford another class, I’ll have to wait for other scholarship opportunities to help me pay.”

He looked at you with sympathy but that didn’t mean he believed you, “Look, I know it’s stressful but that’s life. You don’t get an easy grade from cheating off a friend.”

“Cheating off a friend? Sir, with all due respect, I am not friends with anyone in the class,” you began to feel defensive. You didn’t know anyone, you only talked to them for projects. The professor raised his eyebrow as he stared at you.

“Someone told me that you copied from them. I won’t name the student since that’s between me and them,” he leaned forward onto the desk, “You’re an exemplary student, it hurts me to say this to you.”

All you could do was stare at him, someone actually wanted to ruin your grade and reputation. While you remained silent, he spoke, “Look, you have amazing grades and your participation has been outstanding. I’ll give you another chance. Retake the exam but it must be in my office.”

You furrowed your brows, “Why should I retake an exam if I didn’t cheat? I guarantee you, I would never lie on an exam. I am aware of the consequences that comes from cheating off of someone.”

Leon sighed and leaned back against his chair, “You’re stubborn, that’s good in a student.” He paused for a few moments, staring at you in silence, almost analyzing you. “Tell you what, I’ll investigate this further, however I still want you to take the exam again. If what you say is true then the retake of the exam will be extra credit for your grade.”

Extra credit? How can you say no to that? You sighed defeatedly and nodded along to his words, “Fine, I’ll retake the exam.”

He smiled softly and gave you a short single nod, “Good, come to my office on Wednesday at 12:30.”

You nod again and stood up to leave his office. His eyes trailed behind your back as you walked away from his office. Now all you had to do was wait for Wednesday so you can retake that exam, but first, should you find the person who accused you of cheating?

Wednesday came and you, lazily, made your way to his office. It was 12:25 as you were walking the halls of offices. The Dean’s office, some other professor’s office and then there was his. With his name plastered in the door in gold, Leon Scott Kennedy.

You knocked three times and heard a soft ‘Come in.’ You stepped into his office, immediately met with the smell of coffee, you forgot how much coffee this man consumed but honestly, who doesn’t consume coffee in college? “I’m here,” you spoke awkwardly as you looked at him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you scan him, he looked strangely hot. His tie was loose, his suit jacket hung on the back of his chair and his sleeves were rolled up. You were to see how toned and muscular his arms were, the watch on his left wrist made his hands look bigger for some reason. His hair was messy but it made him look godly.

“Ah, you’re here, good,” He motioned for you to sit down at the chair in front of his desk. “Take out your laptop, I published the exam for you. It should be there.”

You walked over to the chair and sat down in front of his desk, you pulled your laptop out of your school bag and began to scroll through your student account, “I see it.” You mumbled softly.

“Let me know when you’re ready, you have 90 minutes to complete the exam,” He replied politely. You could tell he was proud that you decided to retake it. With a soft sigh, you nodded and began to work on your exam. You leaned back against the chair as your laptop rested on your lap, you answered one question after another. It was an easy exam, you’ve taken it before.

Leon was watching you attentively, his eyes scanning over your relaxed figure. He noticed the way your hair seemed a little bit messy and how your brows scrunched up together in deep thought. He felt proud because he knew you were an ambitious student, you were everything he wanted in a student. Studious, hardworking, hot- wait a minute, hot?

He quickly looked away and focused on some miscellaneous files, he shouldn’t be thinking about his students. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked on your exam and he couldn’t help but feel hot. His eyes lingering on parts of your body, as if truly seeing you for the first time. He sees you as an attractive woman.

“I finished,” you mumbled softly as you looked up from your laptop, he quickly turned his gaze to his computer to check if you finished it. With a firm nod he responded, “Yeah, I see it. Good job, you got another perfect score.”

Of course you did, you were the smartest in his class. This was easy for you, light work. You closed your laptop and began to pack up but not before he tried to stop you, “Hey, wait- don’t leave yet.”

You looked up from your bag to look at him. He clears his throat and continues, “I still have to put in your grade and we need to talk about the cheating accusation.” You nodded and remained quiet as he kept speaking, “I decided to grade both your exams and use this attempt as your extra credit. You’re a great student and it would be a shame if anything bad were to happen to you that could affect your future.”

Your eyes widened, you couldn’t believe he was being this considerate. Most times when a student s caught cheating, a lawyer gets involved. But he was being nice, too nice even.

“What happened to the investigation?” You asked with furrowed brows. “I decided to drop it. I see that you scored the same on both tries so I guess that means you weren’t lying,” he replied as he maintained eye contact. His foggy blue eyes piercing into your soul. It didn’t help that his appearance made you feel butterflies.

“Actually, I also wanted to talk to you about this scholarship I found. It might be good for you,” His hand motioned for you to come up to him and his computer, you got up from the chair and walked to stand behind him. The screen showed a website of a scholarship due next semester. You heard him talk about the details but all you could focus on was the scent of his cologne. He smelled good albeit his messy look. He turned around in his chair to look at you and your faces were merely centimeters away from each other. You looked down at him and he looked up at you from his chair. It wasn’t on purpose but your gaze fell to his lips. Your gaze switched from his eyes to your lips and you didn’t notice how he slowly brought his hand to your cheek. He cupped your side of your face and brought you down to his face.

It wasn’t meant to happen but you felt your lips against his lips. The moment the two of you joined together as one in a kiss felt surreal. His lips tasted like coffee. His other hand traveled to your waist and pulled you down to his lap. You straddled his hips and gripped on his hair as you two emerged into a passionate and sensual kiss. His tongue brushing against your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you as he forced his tongue inside your mouth. The man was old but he knew how to kiss so good. You moaned into the kiss and felt his cock hardened against your clothed core. Causing your panties to grow a wet spot from the arousal. You shifted slightly against his hips, grinding up against his erection. Your kiss turned hot and messy, saliva dripping down as your chest is pressed up against his. His hands traveled down from your waist to your hips, fingers digging at your skin.

He put hind hands on the back of your thighs near your ass and picked you up. He gently laid your back down on his desk, not caring about the files falling to the floor right now. His mouth moved to your neck as he began to nibble and suck on your skin. Red marks terrorizing your sensitive skin as you moaned and gasped. Your hands gripped on the back of his hair as his hands began to travel to the inside of your shirt, touching your stomach and swiftly making their to your breasts. He growled against your skin as he pushed his hand inside your bra and felt the hardened nipple.

“Take it off,” I mumbled against your skin and pulled back. He helped you take off your shirt as you began to unclasp your bra, revealing those beautiful titties to him. Their color only making him water the mouth, he dropped down to one of your breast and began to suck hard on it while his hand manhandled the other. You arched your back as his tongue moved swiftly across areola of your breast. The salivating skin coating your breast as his teeth grazed your nipple. Your moans and whimpers escaping your mouth as he destroyed your breasts with his mouth and hand. You felt good.

He pulled back from your chest and looked down at the marvelous sight before him. He leaned down to kiss you again before softly whispering against your lips, “Let me know if you want to stop.”

You nodded your head and watched as his hands traveled down to his trousers and began to unbuckle his belt and buttons. He pulled his pants down to his thighs and pulled down on his boxers. His erection jumping from the enclosed space, hitting his abdomen with a thwack as precum had been leaking. He was large, the tip a rosy tone of pink with a vein protruding from the side, his cock leaned to his left and you could swear you saw it twitch. It was a spectacular sight. His hands quickly went down to take off your pants, pulling them to your ankles before taking them off completely. His noticed the wet spot in your panties from your presumably wet cunt.

His index finger pressed down against the fabric covering your clit, the slick of your folds seeping through the fabric as you shut your eyes tightly and moaned quietly. He smirked and began to circled your clit through your panties, he wasn’t aware you were into this but he obliged.

Just as you were near your orgasm, he pulled his finger back and pulled your panties down towards the floor along with your pants. He stood in between your legs and aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance, “I wish I had the time to prepare you but I’ve got a meeting after this,” he mumbled as he pushed himself into you, not giving you time to respond as your mouth became full of moans.

He made sure to fill up with his cock until his balls made contact with your ass, your jaw fell slack as you rolled your head back against his desk. Leon slowly began to thrust in and out, not fully pulling out, he was kind enough to let you adjust to his size.

Once he was sure you were doing good, he began to thrust into you. Pulling out and pushing back in with force, causing the desk to grind against the floor. He leaned down and put his hands on either side of your head. Your hands traveled to his hair and back, clawing your nails through his shirt.

The sound of skin clapping and the smell of sweat and sex covered the room. The air felt humid as both of your breaths became heavy and labored. You felt his tip touch your cervix, sending a wave of pleasure over you through a whimper. He kept thrusting, making sure to hit your g-spot and cervix. He may not have fingered you but he was still a gentleman, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this just as much.

Your moans began to cut short as your breathing increasing, you arched your back and felt the band in your lower stomach stretching to a snap. And soon enough, your pussy clenched around his cock. Your orgasm milking and pulsating as he thrusted in you while you were experiencing your high. You closed your eyes and the darkness was clouded with stars.

His own thrusts faltered a little bit as he felt you clench and pulsate around his member and without a second thought he couldn’t contain his own cum from spilling inside you. His hot and thick juices shooting into your womb as he slammed his cock into your cunt for one last time. He kept himself buried inside you as he tried to catch his breath. Both of you panting and sweaty.

He slowly pulled out of you and watched as his cum dropped down from your cunt to his desk, the sight making his cock throb again but he couldn’t indulge himself for a second round as he had a meeting to attend. He helped you clean yourself up with some tissues he had and handed you your clothes from the floor. You both began to dress yourselves as the aftermath of what you two had done began to settle into your heads. He looked at you with a smirk and kissed your cheek, his stubble grazing your skin.

“I’ve got to now, sweetheart,” he whispered as his hand cupped your cheek like he did previously. “You should let me take you to dinner some time.”

You could only nod as you were still feeling dumb from the sex, “Yeah…”

He chuckled and pressed a light kiss on your lips before leaving you in his office.

Who knew a professor could fuck so good?

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #re2 leon #leon smut #di leon #leon kennedy smut #re4 leon #leon kennedy headcanons #re4r leon #re2r leon #smut

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hier--soir · 3 months

Text

heart to heart

john price x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: john takes you away for the weekend, and nestled in a cottage on the countryside, you show him just how much you've been missing him. warnings/tags: long term boyfriend!john, john price never finishes his cigars, explicit smut, a little body worship, oral [m receiving], fingering [f], unprotected piv sex, multiple orgasms [m], some overstim [m], come eating x2, brief cock warming, idiots in love, porn with minimal plot. word count: 4.4k masterlist a/n: this was born out of me being physically unable to stop thinking about that middle picture being john price, so here we go follow @hier--soirupdates if you’d like to be notified when i share my writing

It hasn’t rained in six days.

Late autumn spins the countryside in its grasp; a warm cloak that sends the leaves golden and the grass dewy. In a small, unfamiliar kitchen you drop teabags into mugs and gaze out the window. Admire the vast acreage that surrounds the cottage, and the marshland beyond that.

The early morning rays are bright and cool, turning the cabinets a washy yellow colour around you as you wait for the kettle to boil.

Everything is quiet, calm. If you listen closely, past the sound of birds chirping and water bubbling, you can hear John’s heavy snores down the hall; still catching up on sleep after a long few weeks away.

When he came through the front door two nights ago, you’d been quietly surprised to see him home so soon. After not hearing much for almost a month, you’d resigned yourself to getting on with things in his absence. A fairly covert operation, you knew, so you’d spent your days waking to an empty house. Working and eating and showering alone and never exceeding the appropriate number of messages you could send him in one day without stirring worry. Little Angus with his long orange tail and his soft whiskers your only company in John’s stead.

Home at last, he’d wrestled out of his heavy boots and draped himself over where you lay on the couch. Soap opera long forgotten on the tele, he’d slipped an arm around the back of your head, held you to his chest and said, Let me take you somewhere.

The kettle whistles and you pluck it from the stove, still smiling at the memory. Douse the teabags in boiled water and watch as the windows cloud with steam. You leave his black, just the way he likes it, but soften your own with sugar and milk. Your toes are numb against the cool tile, and you rub them against your calf in search of warmth. Inside, your body is at sleepy old war with itself. One half longing to be back in bed, or perhaps to have not gotten up at all yet; the other half taking great pleasure in the mundanity of doing things like this for him again, after so long of not. Tap tap tap of an impatient finger against the counter until his tea turns the perfect colour, and then you’re on your way back to the room.

Leant amongst paisley patterned pillows and white linens, John looks a little out of place knuckling sleep from the corner of his eyes. A little too rough around the edges, too big, too hardened for such soft surroundings. In your brief absence, he’s drawn the curtains and nudged the window beside the bed open a crack. A long arm stretches out toward the sill, ashing a cigar onto the small dish he’s balanced there.

Naked as the day he was born, he lifts the cigar to his lips and blinks drowsily at you. Stretches his legs out, the muscles in his thighs straining, curled toes skimming the end of the bed. Eyes wandering, you kick the door shut with your foot and slink to the end of the bed, holding out his mug.

“’Morning,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. Accepts the tea with a soft smile, the skin beside his eyes crinkling as he watches you crawl in beside him. Hands full, he twists an ankle around yours, face pulling up at the feel of your cold skin against his. “Jesus, you’re like ice. I’ll shut the window.”

“Don’t move,” you hush, nestling your head against his shoulder. “You’re right where I want you.”

John laughs softly, warm body vibrating against yours. “Is that right, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” You watch him tap his cigar against the dish, sipping your tea and trailing fingers through the dark hairs on his stomach. Enjoy the way his body draws tense beneath your cool touch, goose flesh sprouting across his skin. “Middle of nowhere… unfamiliar town… no one will ever find you. You’re all mine out here, Price.”

“M’all yours everywhere,” he says, abandoning his cigar in the dish so he can tug on the neckline of your—his—t-shirt. “This proves it, yeah?”

“I suppose,” you smile, lifting your mug to hide behind a sip. He watches you move, calculating and quiet as he sips his own tea. You fidget beneath the intensity of his stare, painfully aware of how well he knows you. That your want, your need, must be painted across every inch of your face.

“Love you in my clothes, sweetheart, I do.” John’s fingers curl beneath the hem of the shirt then, rough callouses tickling over your collarbones. “But you’re makin’ me feel awful naked.”

Heat flares in the base of your stomach and you chuckle, matching smirks splashed across your faces as you sit up and drag the shirt over your head. He watches as you flick it to the floor, gaze darkening as he looks over your body, focusing on the thin grey panties that cover the skin between your thighs. A thick arm curls around your waist, tugging you back onto him, and as you settle there his fingers slip down to fiddle with the band of your underwear.

“Cute,” he comments airily, middle finger dropping under the band to caress the skin beneath it.

Mug discarded off the side of the bed, you put both hands to his stomach now. Tickling his soft skin, playing with the hair there as you lean in and press a kiss to the centre of his chest. And then another, and another, with John simply humming, palm flattening against the small of your back to hold you against his side.

Your lips part, tongue dancing lazily against his nipple. Soft strokes until the flesh is stiffening and you’re practically purring against his skin, drifting across to the other one. You hear the soft clink of his mug hitting the side table, and then John’s hand falls against the back of your head. Thick fingers twist through your hair, playing as you kiss and lick over his collarbones, and the little tugs he gives have a low throb starting up between your legs.

“Feelin’ needy this mornin’, hey lovey?” John asks. His fingers come to the front of your face, cupping your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. Big blue eyes watch you pout, cheeks squished between his fingers as you nod.

“I missed you,” you say, turning to press your nose into his palm and inhale the smell of him.

His eyes soften, and all sense of teasing seems to slip out the window. “I know, sweetheart, m’sorry. Come here’n give us a kiss.”

His lips are soft against yours. Warm, and familiar, with a hint of Darjeeling. Pulling you up to straddle his waist, he coaxes your chest down against his and huffs into your mouth at the feel of your nipples against his skin, teeth sneaking out to smart at your bottom lip.

“Thought about you every day,” he mumbles against your lips. “Missed you every second, love, always do.”

You feel something hot and sharp spark behind your eyelids at those words, and flick your tongue against the seam of his lips, pushing it away, not now not now. You go soft and pliant against him; let him guide you through the kiss, coaxing your mouth open with his long tongue as his fingers dance down your spine. When his hand reaches the round of your ass he grips your flesh there, kneading it between his fingers and pushing down so your clothed cunt comes flush with his cock.

“Feel that?” John says, pulling away an inch to nose at your cheek. His cock is heavy between your legs, thick and stiff where it presses against the gusset of your panties. You gasp as he rocks his hips up, grinding against you until the damp fabric slips between your slick folds and rubs over your clit. “That’s how much I missed you, sweetheart.”

As he talks, the hairs on his moustache prickle against your lips, and you find yourself opening your mouth. Breathy moans spill as you roll your hips against his, lathing hot opened mouthed kisses over his jaw.

“Looked at your picture every night,” he continues raggedly, breath hitching as you suck at the hollow of his throat. His cock twitches against you, the slide only getting smoother as more slick spills into your panties. “Thought about comin’ home ‘n’ never leavin’ again, just so I could play with this pretty little cunt whenever I like.”

Your hips stutter into his and you whine, a tiny glimpse of an orgasm fluttering through you just from those words.

“S’yours,” you whisper against his skin, the words he spoke moments before dancing through your mind. “All yours everywhere.”

Faster than he can stop you, you’re slipping off his lap and settling beside him on the bed. Continuing the onslaught, you lick hot, messy kisses over the skin of his neck, across the broad span of his shoulders.

“My big man,” you say tenderly, fingers itching their way across his chest. You skirt your teeth down the middle of his sternum, squeaking a little when he murmurs in enjoyment and presses a hand to your ass again. “I missed your body so much.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me then,” he goads lightly, grunting around a smirk when you sink your teeth into the soft flesh over his ribs in response.

His fingers toy with the material of your panties as you drag your tongue over the dip of his belly button, and when you kiss the soft curve of his lower stomach, nose buried in the dark hairs above it, you feel him grip the fabric tight. You can see his cock in your peripheral vision. Swollen and heavy against his hip now. The tip has turned a pretty shade of dark pink, accented by little streaks of white where pre-come oozes from his slit and glides down his throbbing shaft. With your mouth on his belly, you reach out and wrap your fingers around him.

“Fuck,” John grunts, head lolling back against the pillows.

You smile, stroking him slowly as you drag your nose through his thick happy trail, all the way down to nuzzle against the dark thatch of curls above his base. Insistent now, his fingers push beneath the edge of your panties and drag through your slick seam.

You whimper, forehead resting heavily against his skin as he slides two fingers through the wet mess of you. Lewd sounds of your arousal fill the room as John traces featherlight circles around your clit, and your face heats against his stomach, fingers returning to their lazy pace around his length.

The throb between your legs has become a second heartbeat now, so strong that you’re sure he must feel it beneath his fingertips. If he does, he just sighs softly. Lets the thrumming of your cunt sync with the pulse in his fingertips, heart to heart, and murmurs low encouragements as you tilt your head to the side and begin mouthing at his cock.

“Missed my cock.” Your voice is low and unfamiliar in your ears, mouth overrun with desire and spilling your guts before you can stop it. “So pretty, John…”

Circling your entrance with a thick finger, he just says, “I know, love, s’yours. Go on.”

As slow as you can bring yourself to be, you lay gentle kisses down the entire length of him. Wetting your lips and gliding them over his warm, silken skin, before dipping lower and sucking his balls between your lips. A harsh grunt sounds behind you, and, as if in retaliation, he sinks two thick fingers inside you. You moan around his sensitive skin, holding his balls in your mouth and jerking him off until he’s trembling beneath you, broad thighs straining as he tries to hold himself together.

“That’s good, love,” he murmurs softly, almost speaking to himself as he curls his fingers inside you, humming when you grind into his hand. “Need ta get my fuckin’ mouth on you.”

But you just shake your head. Let his balls slip from your mouth with a soft pop before sticking out your tongue and guiding the weeping tip of his cock towards your mouth. Hasty, too needy for your own good, you slip your lips around him and try to take him deep on the first pass. Out of practice after weeks away, your throat constricts and you choke a little around him. So big, so overbearing, you’re too eager to be filled by him that you push and push until you’re gagging and sputtering. Cheeks hot and eyes downturned, you draw back, skin prickling as you hear him say something past the rushing in your ears. Take a moment to catch your breath and ground yourself, fingers tight on his thigh as your tongue swirls around his tip.

“This what you missed then?” he’s saying, collecting your hair in his fist to keep it off your face. “Hm, missed bein’ all full of me?”

“Mhm,” you hum around him, pulling back with a gasp only to press his head against your cheek. Eyes closed, you rub his ruddy tip against your chin, your lips, painting your skin with his precome. Feel the weight of him warm your skin and sigh in quiet delight. And when he groans, exhaling a heavy, ragged breath, you press your mouth around him again, desperate to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Easy, darlin’, lemme see you,” John chokes out, thumbing sliding over the apple of your cheek. “So pretty with your lips around my cock.”

Heat floods your chest, and you drool around him. The words seem to trigger something in your mind, some insatiable desire to please, to make him feel good, because you’re relaxing, sinking your mouth down further on him. A low, drawn-out curse falls from his lips, fingers curling in the hair behind your ear.

Gaudy sounds of sucking and slurping fill your ears, and you would be self-conscious if it weren’t for the way John’s growls met them in the air. Wordlessly, he slips a third digit inside and the stretch brings a dull burn that has your mouth slowing against him.

Your eyelids flutter as his thick fingers stroke at your walls, searching for the spot that makes you spill every time, but your wanton cries of desperation are muffled by the heavy weight of him on your tongue. In slow, measured movements, he begins to shift his hips in time with your head. Feeding his cock to you and grunting when he feels your throat go soft and easy around him, letting him slip further in until your nose buries in the hair at his base.

John watches you, the blue in his eyes almost entirely swallowed by desire fattened pupils. Rakes his gaze over the way your lips stretch around his thick cock, tears dancing on your lashes as you take him in your throat. The heady taste of him is intoxicating, and you can only hold his gaze for so long before your eyes are rolling back, stomach pulling tight as you swallow around him.

Stuffed to the brim with John, John, John. He’s everywhere, filling your mouth, your aching cunt; it sends your heart racing, thighs trembling as your orgasm begins to crest.

Molten heats swims in the base of your stomach, curling and bubbling there as he you ride his long fingers, moaning his name around his cock. But just as you feel everything begin to go tight and tingly, John’s pulling on your hair and dragging you off him.

A thin strand of spit dangles between his tip and your mouth and he snarls at the sight, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he huffs, squeezing insistently at your shoulders. “Wanna feel you on my cock when you come for me, yeah?”

Mind a hazy blur, you let the weight of him fall from your mouth, the hinge of your jaw still burning as you peel your underwear down your legs and spread yourself over his lap. John doesn’t pull his hand away though. No, he keeps his fingers between your legs, pumping them in and out, slowly, as you hover over his cock.

“My girl,” he says, eyes focusing on where the puffy lips of your cunt almost touch his cock. “My filthy, sweet girl.”

“John,” you puff his name, abdomen tensing when he rubs his thumb against your clit. Balanced on your knees and the tips of your toes, your legs shake a bit. Fingers dance forward to touch his shoulder, desperate for an anchor.

You frown a little, swollen lips parted in a torturous mix of desire and confusion, but he just offers a filthy grin and says, “Tell me you missed me again.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you smart instinctually, lips twitching when he barks a laugh and slips his fingers from your wet clutch, grasp drifting to your waist. “Please.”

“There she is,” he rumbles, jaw tensing as you glide his tip through your folds, coating him in your slick. A heavy rush of air spills from his nose. “My impatient girl.”

Once he’s got you on his cock, it doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.

He lets you keep having it your way for a bit. Watches, gaze heavy, as you bounce on his cock, hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. You squirm on him, face twisted up as you adjust to the thick stretch of him after so long. It burns and aches between your thighs, but you can’t help but keep coming back for more, sinking down on his length faster each time. He tilts his head forward to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against the plush of your breast when you arch your back, crying out at the feeling of his teeth on the sensitive bud.

After a while he slots his greedy lips against yours. Presses hot, sucking kisses to your mouth, swallowing down every gasp and moan that crawls its way up your chest. The bristles of his facial hair scratch at your cheeks, your nose, and you love it. Have desperately missed the way it warms your skin as he presses his tongue inside your mouth and tastes behind your teeth.

Using his hold on your hips, he rolls you against his lap. Meets you thrust for thrust until you start to soak his length, jaw going slack as he growls into your open mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell, love, that’s it,” John groans, fingers tightening on your waist as your cunt pulls tight and hot around him. Thighs shaking, you let your forehead fall against his chest and ride out the flood of your orgasm. “I know, darlin’, I know, I’ve got you.”

Fingers fly up to grip the back of your neck, his other arm snaking around your waist as he continues fucking up into you. His cock presses hot and heavy into that soft, gushy spot deep inside you and you shudder against him, helpless little moans slipping from your parted lips. Face smushed against his hairy chest, you drool a little. Feel it pool between his pecs and smear across your cheek as your eyes roll back, dopamine pounding in your veins as he pushes you relentlessly through the high.

“Gonna let me fill you up?” he’s panting, feet planted on the bed now as he bucks into you, hips stuttering as he sinks closer and closer to his end. “Fuck, I’m gonna make a right mess of you, darlin’. That’s it, lovey, show me that pretty face.”

“John,” you mewl, toes curling against the sheets. “Shit, oh shit.”

“Christ,” he grunts when you meet his eyes, jaw pulled tight. “So tight, m’ gonna come—”

“Wait,” you mumble suddenly, senses sharpening despite the way your thighs still shake against his hips. John stills immediately, grip tightening on your waist. “In my mouth, I want you in my mouth.”

His face crumples at that, a guttural noise sputtering from his lips as you lift off him and slip down to rest between his legs. He nods, brushing hair back off your face as you sink your mouth down on him, slick tongue hungry on the underside of his pulsing cock. He mutters your name, tells you how perfect you feel as he rocks his hips forward, tip nudging the back of your throat with every careful thrust.

“My sweet girl, doing so good for me,” he breathes, a coy grin on his face and a firm hand at the base of your skull. He holds your head in place as he fucks your mouth with slow, steady strokes. Groans every time you swallow, warm wet throat drawing tight around his swollen head.

“Look at me, let me see those eyes,” he mutters urgently, tugging on your hair until you’re blinking, focusing blurry eyes on his face. He thumbs at the teary streaks on your cheeks and gives a rough, prolonged groan as he begins to spill down your throat. “Fuck, fuck.”

You bob your head as his cock twitches and jerks against your tongue, sucking until he’s filled your mouth with warm come and it starts seeping from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down his shaft. You catch the spill with your fingers, swallowing his thick spend down and then licking what’s left from your trembling hands.

John watches on, chest heaving, and tuts fondly when you whimper, head spinning with the salty taste of him on your tongue.

“Bloody hell,” he exhales after a moment, dragging his knuckles over his face. “We’re never goin’ home.”

You laugh, drowsily nuzzling your cheek against the inside of his thigh as his cock softens against his stomach. John cards his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, legs still twitching and eyes drifting closed as he tries to catch his breath. Lips slick with spit and come, you lay soft pecks along his sweaty skin. Smile when he shudders, fingers tightening against your scalp, but doesn’t pull you off.

There’s a hot flush of red splashed across the skin of his neck, his cheekbones, and his stomach is still warm to the touch when you reach out to graze his soft flesh. Sated and sleepy, he wets his lips and continues to play with your hair. Lovingly curls strands of it around his fingers and tugs gently before letting go, only to pick a new strand and do it again.

Overcome with emotion, and unable to stop yourself, you lean forward and take his soft cock back into your mouth.

John hisses through his teeth in surprise, eyes flashing open.

You don’t do anything crazy yet. Just let him feel the warmth of your mouth around him, the soft glide of your tongue against the ridge around his head. When he doesn’t pull you off after a second, you give him a little suck. Not hard—just enough to make his hips flinch down into the mattress and his legs pull tight at your sides.

“Fuck,” he exhales, face pinched. His hand trembles against your head. “Fu—hang on, fuckin’ hell, love.”

You peer up past his stomach to where his mouth hangs open and his eyes are shiny and wide. His nails scratch against your scalp. Needy little nudges that blur the line between too much and not enough. You hum in pleasure around him when a choked sound falls from his mouth. Feeling a little mean, though, you pull back, licking your lips and smiling apologetically.

“Sorry,” you murmur, face hot as you squeeze his thigh. “Just want to love on you a little longer, that’s all.”

He hums deep in his chest, brow creasing a little as he brings his big hands to cup your face. His thumb swipes at your chin, smearing the saliva there, and you part your lips for him. He makes a sort of pained sound as he slots the digit into your mouth and watches you hollow out your cheeks out around it, swirling your tongue and sucking like you’d done to his cock just moments ago.

“Christ,” John breathes. Something needy and desperate glints in his eye, and he slips his finger from your mouth. Grips the back of your neck and gives a short nod. “Gonna be the death of me, ain’tcha?”

Guided by his hand, you take him back in your mouth and sigh in relief. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you rest your face against his hip, taking deep breaths through your nose and just holding him like that for a while. You can hear the way his breathing goes haggard above your head; short sharp bursts of air huffing from his nostrils. Sensitive as he must be, John lets you have your fun, shivering and spiting low curses as your touches get increasingly needier. And when you begin to suck softly at his length again, he seems unable to help the way his strong legs writhe against the mattress.

He says your name, rough and urgent, when you pull back only to snake your tongue out against his slit. Eyes fluttering open, you look up at him as you lathe your tongue down his length, smiling at how red his face has gotten, at how he seems to be holding his breath. John’s cock starts to swell and stiffen beneath your touch.

“D’you want me to stop?” you whisper, tracing the blue vein that pulses down the side of his length with your tongue.

“No,” he pants, head lolling from side to side. “Fuck no, gorgeous. Just go easy on me, yeah? It’s ohh—” he winces “—s’a lot.”

You nod understandingly and press a kiss to his tip, smearing the fresh pearl of precome there against your lips. He’s fully hard now, throbbing when you wrap your fingers around his thick base and wrap your lips around his head. A guttural sound rips from his chest and he’s tugging at your hair. For a moment you pause, unsure, but then he’s pushing a little on you. Nudging you closer, further, so you take him deeper and deeper until his tip is nudging against your throat.

“Fuck,” John gasps, hips stuttering against your palms, sensitive cock twitching against your tongue. “S’too much, love, it’s—oh fuck.”

With a ragged grunt his cock pulses in your mouth, and a little spurt of come dribbles from his head. You moan, eyes closed, and swallow tight around him, milking every last drop of spend from his cock until he’s winded and clumsily pushing you off of him.

Breathless, you fall flat on the mattress beside him, feet dangling off the end of the bed. John’s broad palm cradles the back of your head still, a comforting weight as you wipe your face against the sheets.

Ears pricking, you realise it’s begun to rain outside. Soft patters of liquid that knock against the window, thin rivulets that drip down to splash and splutter against the sill. Long forgotten, his cigar sizzles and dies beneath the spray.

“Another tea?” you murmur finally, pushing up onto your elbows.

But with a soft, startled laugh, you find that John’s eyes are closed, chest rising with steady breaths; already back to sleep. Shaking your head a little, you smile fondly at his lax form, and consider closing the window. You settle instead for pulling the duvet from the corner of the bed. Curled against his thick side, you settle the blanket over the two of you and lay an arm over his stomach, content to have a proper lie in after such a busy morning.

thanks for reading, i'd love to hear what you thought x

#my writing #fic: heart to heart #john price x reader #john price smut #john price fanfiction #john price x you #john price cod #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price smut

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donatellawritings · 30 days

Note

would u ever write stepbro! rafe?? love u

i love you too!

it was safe to say that your relationship with your stepbrother had way exceeded the confines of being appropriate. sure, you guys didn’t adhere to the cliche norm of being mortal enemies, or purposely being disrespectful for the sake of being rebellious — you two loved each other, perhaps a little too much. rafe knew how sick it would be to the naked eye — the older stepbrother preying on his pretty little stepbrother, but it was far more than that, much to his own disdain. you were sixteen when you were first introduced, doe eyed and welcoming to him and his family, but now you were nineteen — a bit older, and far too wise for his liking, you knew what you wanted and that’s what made things even more complicated for the two of you and you precarious little situation.

the routine cheek kisses that you’d give to your blended family when you’d come down for breakfast, dressed in one of his old college t-shirts, and skimpy panties that were hopelessly swallowed by the plush of your ass, they lingered just a little bit longer when you reached rafe. your plump lips were warm and pillowy against his cheek, and he’d simply smile at you, “mornin’ sweetheart,” he’d mumble, not missing the way you’d pathetically blush as you pulled away from him, before swiping a ripe piece of cubed melon from his plate.

and both of your parents would simply sit and watch, completely oblivious, as they were just relieved that rafe had finally gotten along with someone.

however, others on the divided island were much more privy to just how close rafe cameron and his doting stepsister were. when it came to outings and drug-ridden parties, rafe was far from inconspicuous with the fact that you were his. if his bloodshot bright blues weren’t honed in on your every move, he’d have you perched on his lap, a dopey grin on his face as you smiled lazily at him, your gums numb from the fine white powder he’d smeared on them a few minutes prior, “how y’feelin’ baby, y’okay?” he’d ask, pressing his chapped lips to your temple as you let out a content sigh, laying back to rest your head against his firm chest.

“m’okay, rafey,” you’d hum, your delicate acrylic-nailed fingers coyly fiddling with his longer and ringed digits.

to make the waters just a bit murkier, rafe had been the man to rid you of your purity — and you wouldn’t have it any other way. i mean, he knew you, he knew what made you tick, he knew just the right spots to get you to come undone.

“fuck, keep your eyes on me, mama — know it hurts baby, just look at me,” he cooed, his sweat-slicked forehead resting atop of yours as you nodded, your pouty lips parted slightly as the entirety of his hard cock filled you to the hilt, a pained whimper leaving your throat as rafe’s fingers laced through yours, his heavy hand pressing yours into the lush mattress.

a soft cry left your lips as rafe kissed you, the kiss hungry, yet gentle as he swallowed your sweet sounds. with his free hand, rafe lifted your leg to hook around his waist, “s’too much — hurts,” you moaned, your dolly eyes welled with threatening tears as rafe lifted his head, validating your concerns with a slight nod.

maintaining his slow and deep rolls of his flexed hips, rafe licks over his dry lips — it took everything in him not to fuck you deep and hard into the mattress, he couldn’t hurt you, “i know baby, shit — y’feel so fuckin’ good, fuck!” he grits out, his stringy curtain bangs falling over his eyes as he greedily watches your sopping wet pussy swallow him in, his spit-coated lips parted with a drunken gaze.

once ward was out of the picture, and rafe had taken it upon himself to take over the duties that came with being the main man of the cameron household, he became a bit more forward with your relationship. your mother had become far removed, due to her ongoing affair with her tennis coach — which made things just a bit sweeter for rafe. he decided to buy you a diamond-encrusted ring with his birthstone on full display, a symbol of his undying affection for you. and you wore it with pride, the two of you parading around a vacant tannyhill, engrossed in smiley and sloppy kisses, kisses that turned into feverish fucking against any nearby wall or solid surface.

“m’gonna marry you, princess,” rafe exhaled sharply, pressing his lips to your forehead, before returning his lips to yours, a wet smack coming from your conjoined lips, “ward’s not comin’ back — y’mom is busy with her new boyfriend — y’mine for the taking, baby,” rafe spoke between wet kisses, his voice low and breathy as you gazed up at him with hopeful eyes, batting your curled lashes at his every word. god, you were a hopeless romantic, it was easy for you to get caught up in your romance-ridden dreams.

“i’m yours, rafe,” you decided, and you didn’t care who knew it.

#divider: im4yeons #asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #stepsister!reader

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bimb0fy · 2 months

Text

— 01; mender

pairings; luke castellan x hephaestus!reader

summary; you always were a mender, a creator. yet your knowledge of swords, not the best, so imagine to your surprise, the luke castellan asked you for a sword, not your brother alex who always exceeded in the task.

warnings; nothing!!

wordcount; 825 words

a/n; can u guys tell one of my hyperfixasions is watching documentaries about how blacksmiths do shit 🤩

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ!! | ⁿᵃᵛⁱᵍᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ!!

-> You were a creator, being blessed by your father, hephaestus, and gaining fire abilities, a once in a hundred year miracle, you were instantly crowned favorite.

Not that any of your siblings complained, you were a Saint in their eyes.

So imagine to your surprise, when the Luke Castellan specifically requested for you to make him a new sword.

Even though you were your father's favorite, you weren't the best sword mender, you exceeded in mending and blacksmithing obviously, but your brother Alex, he had the honor of best sword mender.

"So, can you make one for me?" Luke asked you as you held the bag of chips in your hand, a foot on the table as you sat comfortably on the chair, eyes widened.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." You stuttered as you stood up. "You sure you want me? I mean Alex prays for you to ask him to make you a sword, he'd probably drop Mr. D's orders for you."

"Yeah, I want you." Luke smirked as you smiled. You tied your hair into a ponytail, taking your goggles as you raised your sleeves. "So, I always wanted to know how you make swords."

"Cmon I'll show you." You smiled, throwing an apron towards him with a matching pair of goggles.

"Twins." He joked as he put them on, you laughed as he stood by the station. You walked towards the cabinets, taking out the steel as you plopped it down to your station.

You had your own station in its own room, with huge windows and a rather delicate decoration, nothing you'd expect for a child of Hephaestus.

You went ahead to heat up the steal, Lule stared at awe as you held the metal, pressing on it as you heated it up, grabbing the hammer to shape the dagger once it was done.

The clacking louder then usual as you knew Luke held many swords, he'd instantly know a faulty one against a perfect weapon. Watching it men, you repeated until you deemed it presentable.

You dipped it into the oil, waiting for a few minutes before you took it out, the steam escaping as you placed it onto the desk.

Luke stared at the sword, bending down to look at it at eye level. "Isn't it supposed to be sharper?" Luke whispered as you looked at him, you couldn't hear him as you already began mending the handle.

"What?" You asked him as he smiled at you.

"No I just said its perfect." Luke smiled as you nodded, a smile shifting to your lips but you knew he wanted to say something else, you took off your goggles, grabbing the dagger as you looked at it.

"It isn't sharp enough, huh that's weird." You mumbled as you heated the blade once more, taking the hammer to fix your error as Luke sighed in relief. "You knew. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I mean, it's your territory, not mine." Luke shrugged. A lie. An obvious lie.

"Whatever you say Castellan." You smiled, as soon as you fixed your error and finished the handle, you stuck the two together, double checking as Luke leaned in beside you, looking at the sword.

"It's bigger then usual." Luke mentioned as you hummed in agreement.

"Thought you might need an upgrade. Go ahead, try it." You smiled at him as he nodded, he took the sword, holding it into his hand as he threw it to the other repeatedly.

"It's lighter, how did you do that?" Luke asked you, you winked in reply.

"It's my little secret." You smirked as he smiled. He spun it in his hands, looking between the blade and the handle, noting something carved on the handle. "It's your initials, and a little design I thought suited you."

He stared at the hoop, smiling as he took out his pendant from his shirt, it was tbe same design. "Thank you, really." He smiled at you as you shrugged it off with a smile.

"It's no thing." You smiled. You packed cleaned the area, Luke assisting you before taking off the apron and goggles. He took the sword, smiling as he held it before bidding you goodbye.

You went along to your cabin, taking a shower before going to lunch.

You sat down next to Alex, he was probably your best friend, he, no matter what, was always there for you. "A little birdie told me you mended a sword for the Luke Castellan. My my what luck you have." Alex joked as you rolled your eyes, smiling as you ate your mac and cheese.

"Hey mender. Thanks for the sword, it works like a charm." Luke winked at the last part, you smiled before tucking the hair behind your ear.

"It's no big deal. I'm glad you like it." You smiled at him as he raised his leg onto the place beside you, leaning in.

"I'll see you at the bonfire mender."

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #hephaestus #cabin 9 #percy jackson and the olympians #fanfic #x reader

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loves4yukio · 5 months

Text

Unspoken Desires

Negan x F!Reader

Summary : You consistently rejected Negan's romantic advances because you didn't wish to become another one of his conquests. You avoid him as much as you could, but things became more intricate when he revealed his sole interest in you and no one else.

Warnings (18+) : SMUT, age gap (you are in your 20's and Negan is in his mid-late 40's), swearing, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!Negan, secret relationship, no use of y/n, mentions of sex (?) — I'm not sure what to put, so if you have any advice, I'll take it.

Word count : 5k6

You endured what felt like the most draining day of your existence. Your time outdoors alongside Simon, engaging in a lengthy run, exceeded the usual duration, leads you to return later than anticipated to the Sanctuary — where you seek solace in the privacy of your bedroom. Shedding your work attire, you exchanged it for the comfort of shorts and a cozy sweater, an outfit suited for rest. Seated at your desk, you embarked upon the task of drafting the expedition report, as mandated by Negan.

You toil in silence, engrossed in the task, driven by your yearning to assimilate into the community and meet Negan's expectations. When you're at last content with the outcome, you glance up from your desk, eyeing the time displayed on the clock. 'It's getting late, I need a break,' you muse. The alluring temptation of watching a movie, an idea often suggested by Negan, tempted you irresistibly.

As a recent addition to the Saviors, you had caught Negan's profound interest, the reasons for which remained a mystery to you. On numerous occasions, you found his intense gaze fixed upon you, his signature smile accompanying his playful, suggestive banter. The effect it had on you was undeniable, stirring an internal storm you couldn't easily dismiss.

Occasionally, you yielded to his allure, but it always left you in self-reproach, retreating into seclusion and creating distance. Negan always persisted, unwilling to swiftly relinquish his grasp on you. He was resolute, refusing to let you go to another.

Negan was known for his ladies' man side. He already had six wives by his side. Negan being Negan, he had proposed you become one of them, but you persistently declined, knowing it wouldn’t bring you joy. Yet, here you found yourself, part of his inner circle and laboring under his directives. This didn't deter him from the amusement of seducing you, sending your senses spinning — a pleasure he relished, especially the moments when you'd bite your lip each time he whispered something dirty in your ear.

Satisfied with the task's completion, you left your chambers, strolling silently through the corridor of the floor designated for Negan and his wives. You had the liberty to wander there at will, given your residence on that floor — Negan had made it clear that the floor was as much your abode as his and his wives'.

As you lingered in the room's alcove, the soft hum of the television reached your ears. Despite the dimness, the silhouettes on the couch were distinguishable. For a fleeting moment, you observed Negan and a few of his wives holding each other tenderly, their forms intertwined in a embrace.

This simple yet profound sight stirred a tumult of emotions within you. While relieved not to be entangled in Negan's romantic affairs, you couldn't stifle the growing pangs of jealousy. Negan embodied the epitome of your ideal man : handsome, funny, sociable and seemingly damn good at sex. Some nights, the sounds of their cries of pleasures echoed through the corridors upstairs, teasing a tale of their intimate rendezvous.

With the utmost care, you glided across the floor, your steps hushed to avoid disrupting their tranquility. Neither of them caught a glimpse of your passing silhouette ; such was your stealth. Arriving in the kitchen, you prepared a light snack, allowing the gentle whir of the refrigerator to fill the space.

Within the serene hush of the living room, where the dimmed lights cast the room in a veil of darkness, an aged cowboy movie flickered on the screen. Negan slumped on the generous couch, a soft sigh escaping him as Frankie sought solace against his shoulder. A fleeting moment of quiet ensued until one of them decided to shatter the silence.

“Has she returned from work ?” Sherry inquired on your behalf, arching an eyebrow, her attention diverted from the movie flickering on the television.

Shifting his gaze toward her, Negan emitted a noncommittal sound, almost an 'I dunno,' just before ensnaring her in a kiss filled with such fervor that it deterred her from pursuing the topic. Using it as a diversion, he let his hand slide down her back, the touch lingering on the black fabric of her dress, seeking more intimate contact.

“I'll be back, I'll fetch us some snacks. I'm feeling a bit peckish,” Amber murmured, beginning to withdraw from the group. However, Negan's hand swiftly seized her thigh, wordlessly commanding her to remain where she was.

“You're not fucking going anywhere, darling. I've got this covered, ladies,” Negan declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a final surreptitious kiss, seizing Frankie's jaw for a change, he rose to make his way towards the kitchen, where he finds you. Unnoticed by you, he seized the chance to gaze at you, slyly running his tongue over his lips.

Deep in thought, you positioned the containers on the kitchen counter. When you eventually faced him, you briefly glanced away, continuing your preparations ; as if focusing on the task could banish the persistent memories clouding your mind. Negan picked up on your deliberate actions, earning one of his trademark, smug smiles.

“How long have you been here, sweetheart ?” His question sliced through the air, his tone betraying no notice of the tension that crept into your body upon hearing his voice.

“Not too long. I just came down,” you responded, daring to meet his gaze once more.

Observing him move around the central cabinet, selecting a variety of nuts to fill a small dish, he paused in his desire to approach the refrigerator, positioning himself behind you. He pressed your form gently against the counter, allowing his weight to meld with yours. His warm breath danced across the curve of your neck as his lips drew close to your ear.

“Aren't you joining us ?” he inquired, planting tender kisses against your soft skin, echoing a familiarity from moments when you were alone.

Your gaze remained evasive, yet inwardly, you pondered the wisdom of joining them in the living room. The situation was already taut with tension, and you hesitated to further complicate matters. On one hand, the desire to spend time with them lingered, but on the other, an apprehension loomed — an uncertainty of what might unfold, beyond your control.

“I'm not sure that's wise, Negan,” you murmured softly, breathlessly.

“Smart enough to handle it, darlin',” Negan replied with a sly smirk, dismissing your concern.

He remained silent, his hazel eyes fixed upon you in quiet contemplation. Your body tingled under his fleeting touch, heightening the feverish sensation as he grazed against you. Carefully tearing open a bag of chips, you delicately poured a portion into a bowl, then turned to present it to him.

“Here. I wouldn't want you to miss the movie because of me,” you said, offering an innocent smile.

The warmth and tenderness of your presence felt soothing, as though it seamlessly melded with his, an indelible union. With each step, he sought to intoxicate himself within this fleeting moment, wishing it could linger a little longer. Ceasing the intimate connection by turning towards him brought a sense of discomfort to Negan, especially when he was reveling in the closeness.

His hands mirrored your actions as you turned to face him, his countenance etched with seriousness, his unwavering gaze fixed upon you. Lifting the bowl of chips you'd prepared, he wordlessly returned it to the counter, observing you as if something unusual was unfolding. His scrutiny delved deep, as though attempting to decipher the depths of your soul.

“Then go to your room,” his words sliced the air, unexpectedly severe, nearly cutting.

His stare posed a challenge, urging you to venture beyond the ordinary. It was no longer just about the movie, and you were acutely aware of this shift. He was testing you.

Your brow arched in response to his intense scrutiny, granting him permission to draw nearer. You felt defenseless, adrift, and utterly powerless. His husky voice only added to your sense of unease. It was absurd how effortlessly you seemed to be losing your self-possession, akin to a fragile leaf that could be easily crumpled in his grasp. The very notion made your heart race within your chest.

Enveloped by the weight of his penetrating gaze, you hesitated to even reach out to touch him. You found yourself silently studying him, attempting to decipher the cryptic undertone of his words. Tilting your head ever so slightly, you cast a swift, cautious glance around, ensuring no prying eyes were upon you, before returning your focus to him.

He stood before you, a commanding presence, his unwavering, intense gaze fixed upon you. Was it even your place to be standing alongside them ? You blinked, releasing a breath as you succumbed to the overwhelming closeness. It might have appeared peculiar, perhaps even self-centered, but you would have preferred if his wives were absent. It could have been the attraction you felt toward Negan… or for some undisclosed reason.

“Must I, really ?” you blurted in a voice barely louder than a whisper, surrendering to the game. “Seems to me like you're eager for my company. Don't you ?”

“Oh, you think so, huh ? You don't have a damn clue about the game you're playing, sweetheart.”

His lips, once momentarily dry, became moistened by a subtle lick, accentuating his wolfish grin. Your hips were gently pressed against the counter's edge, his eyes traversing your form, observing your casual attire. Despite the room's darkness, his gaze fixated upon you, brimming with unwavering attention.

Within moments, you leaned against the nearby furniture, settling there while maintaining an unbroken gaze with him. Negan briefly scanned the kitchen's entrance before redirecting his focus back to you. Ensnared under his intense scrutiny, you found yourself entranced, incapable of averting your eyes from the fervor of his. Each step he took toward you sent shivers down your spine, accelerating the rhythm of your heart. Your breaths grew shallower, the atmosphere thick with an electric charge.

“Don't start something that you can't finish,” he moved a step nearer.

“Who said I couldn't see it through ?” you retorted mischievously.

Negan moved with a predator's intent, every step bringing him closer to you until he stood mere inches away. In that suspended moment, it felt as though time had halted, the world vanishing to leave only the confined space that separated the two of you. The passing seconds dragged by, laden with anticipation, until he loomed over you, finally capturing your face in a firm yet gentle hold, drawing it close to his. His intense gaze traced every curve of your eyes and lips, as if they beckoned to him.

As his fingers secured your face, a soft moan escaped your lips, lost amidst the hollow of his kiss. The ensuing embrace was fervent, ablaze with passion, and you responded with the entirety of the longing you held for him. However, Negan aimed to tantalize you, so he permitted the kiss to endure for just a few moments, kindling a flame within you and intensifying your longing for more. Releasing a frustrated sigh, you felt an intense longing — an unquenched fire that left you parched.

“Now there's a spot on the couch waiting for your pretty ass,” he remarked, letting you go. With a bottle of liquor and the two snack bowls in hand, he strode away, leaving you behind.

Returning to the living room, the movie played on, and he seamlessly carried on watching it, feigning normalcy by exchanging a kiss with one of his wives. It was disquieting to witness the charade of his role as the perfect husband with them, all the while engaging in infidelity with you.

“Screw me…” you muttered under your breath before exiting the room, carrying your tray toward the living area.

Sherry arched a curious eyebrow upon witnessing you arrange the appetizers on the coffee table, casually taking a few pistachios as she passed by. Unaware of your true intent, she observed you taking a seat on the sofa — pretending to concentrate fully on the movie playing on the television. It was then that she realized you intended to join them in watching the film.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, Negan slipped off his shoes and stretched out along the couch, observing your approach without quite meeting your gaze. Amber perched at the edge of the sofa, indulging in the snacks from the bowls.

Leaning behind Amber — careful not to touch her, Negan reached out with his leather-clad hand toward you. His fingers delicately slipped under your sweater, making direct contact with your skin, absentmindedly caressing it without averting his eyes from the television. You attempted to divert your attention to the screen, as though nothing had transpired. Nevertheless, your body responded intensely to his tender caresses, the sensation mingling with the remnants of his previous kiss, drawing you closer, yearning for more contact.

With every delicate rise of his fingers, it was as if you were engulfed in an irresistible yet tormenting inferno. Despite the turmoil within, an appearance of composure had to be maintained, a guise of indifference. His actions appeared effortless, his focus fixed on the screen, while his touch crept higher and higher, only to smoothly readjust as Amber settled in between you on the couch. He cleared his throat, flashing his characteristic shit-eating grin.

The movie merely served as a facade, concealing the true currents swirling in the room. The tension became almost suffocating, an unspoken magnetism pulling at your souls, yet no one acknowledged the brewing tempest, recklessly dancing with fire. The intensity between you both had swelled to an almost tangible thickness, enough to be sliced through with the sharpest blade. You cast a feverish glance toward Frankie, prompting her to sit upright, sensing the charged atmosphere.

“I think I'm ready for bed,” Frankie whispered a little suddenly.

“Same, I'm getting really sleepy,” Amber added.

“Mhm, I'm heading off too. Try not to stay up too late, guys,” Sherry said as she followed the other two women.

“Sleep tight, ladies,” Negan's parting was sealed with a tender kiss to each of the women, yet his unwavering gaze remained locked with yours. He was aware of your watchful gaze and took the opportunity to playfully tease you.

They dispersed into the solace of their individual chambers, melting into the shadows. While maintaining a facade of attention towards the television, he covertly tracked their movements until he was certain of your seclusion. Then, he turned toward you, a silent entreaty woven into the language of his gaze, beckoning you closer as if the very essence of his being yearned for your nearness.

“Come here,” he murmurs, gesturing with his raised arm to offer you space beside him.

You edged closer to his inviting warmth, shifting on the couch to draw nearer. The instant you nestled against him, his embrace enveloped you. His fingertips ventured down your back, making tender contact with your skin, a delicate dance of caresses. Nestled comfortably against him, your head found a cozy perch upon his shoulder, basking in the tenderness of his touch. His actions lulled you, evoking a melting sensation within.

“What's runnin' through that head of yours, darlin' ?” he murmurs in your direction.

The gentle strokes ceased. His hand settled on the curve of your lower back, doing nothing more but imprinting an imperceptible memory of his tender touch upon your skin. Negan's actions seemed deliberate, as if he sought to ignite a response within you, desiring to witness your own initiative, rather than taking the lead himself. In his ideal scenario, your body would have already be over his, seeking warmth. He harbored vivid images of it, yearning for what he'd envisioned on countless evenings.

“I don't know,” you exhaled, your words barely audible, your gaze unwaveringly locked with his. “About everything, and nothing at all.”

“I'll be damned, sweetheart,” he breathed, his voice a velvety rasp, “Uncertainty can be a wicked thing, can't it ? Everything and yet nothin', all wrapped up in one pretty package.”

The TV volume remained low, affording him the chance to catch any stray sounds. He was vigilant, ever mindful of his wives who, despite retiring to their rooms, could unexpectedly intrude at any instant. Negan wasn't particularly concerned about being caught in a passionate liaison with a woman ; if it were solely up to him, he'd fuck you right there on the balcony in front of everyone, demonstrating to all that you belonged to him. But it was more for your sake that he wished to avoid it — he knew you probably wouldn't want to be seen sharing sex with him.

A hush settled in the room as you rose, resting your hand on his chest. Your heart stubbornly refused to slow down while the background movie appeared to have lost its significance. Your gaze fixated on Negan's figure, captivated by the intensity of his dark, engulfing eyes.

“You need to stop giving me that look, Negan,” you stated.

“I can't help it if you bring out that look in me, sweetheart,” he replied, his lips curved in a smirk.

Slowly, your eyes traced his features, observing every detail from his lashes to the salt and pepper shade of his beard. Perching up on your knees, you take a careful glance around the room to make sure there was no one there. Assured of the privacy, you descended slowly, draping a leg over his, finally settling atop him, your breaths growing unsteady.

“You look like you're about to devour me on the spot,” you exhaled, sensing his body tensing beneath you.

“Well, babydoll, can't blame you for feeling a little nervous with ol' Negan here.”

His gaze narrowed, intensifying as curiosity and amusement danced within his eyes. Eager to discover the path of your actions, he deliberately halted even the subtlest of gestures toward you. And his anticipation was met. You placed your hands on each side of his shoulders, the contact of your pelvis against his eliciting a gasp of your mouth.

“Negan, I— Oh, for fuck's sake…” you blurt out, leaning in, nearly pressing against him.

“Seems cat's got someone's tongue, huh,” Negan chuckles, softly grazing your chin with his gloved hand.

Flushed with heat, you gently traced your fingers along his pristine white t-shirt, tucking the edges to sense his warmth against your fingers. Surprisingly, your boldness seemed to gratify him. Without delay, his hands found their way to your thighs, embracing your skin before gliding down to your hips, drawing you nearer. He bent his legs, pulling you close as possible, as if ensnaring you within his desires.

“Mhmm, that's it, keep it up, sweetheart. Just. Like. That.” his raspy voice growled.

The tension between you amplified with the gentle touch of his fingers caressing your skin, accompanied by his satisfied, teasing smile. Swiftly, he seizes your face, drawing you in for a direct and passionate kiss. Your lips eagerly met his, an urgent yearning manifesting as if they had craved this union for an eternity.

Enthralled by the passion conveyed in that kiss, he reasserted his hold on your hips, drawing the weight of your pelvis closer to his in an almost covetous manner. Every inch of your body responded to the fervor. Suppressing his profound yearnings for so long, he yielded, allowing his hands to trail along your curves. A sigh slipped from your lips at the sensation. His touch ventured beneath the fabric of your shorts, grasping your ass firmly. His action was almost too abrupt, considering how controlled it had been until now.

You were no longer the master of your actions, a mere observer of your own surrender. Unable to resist any longer, you yielded to the urge, shedding your suffocating sweater in a desperate attempt to ease the fire consuming your body. It seemed unbelievable that such a scene was unfolding, you that fighting valiantly against the tide of temptation, determined not to succumb.

Your breath mirrored his, swift and erratic, as your hands slipped beneath his t-shirt. Your fingers, curious and explorative, roamed across his skin, entwining in the few hairs as if seeking to uncover every secret of this uncharted territory.

Your lips sought out his cheek, trailing a series of kisses along the contour of his jaw. A soft sigh escaped you at the tantalizing touch of his beard against your lips, and you closed your eyes, imagining the sensation of it grazing between your thighs. The journey of kisses halted upon reaching the hollow of his neck. Gazing up at him, your eyes deepened with a smoldering intensity, betraying the fervent desire coursing through you.

“Doll, staring at me like that makes me as hard as a rock,” Negan teases, a sly grin dancing on his face.

“Oh, hush.”

Your tongue lazely passed over your lips as your sweater cascaded to the wayside. An almost involuntary movement drew your pelvis toward a search for friction, yearning to stoke the burgeoning flame deep within. Negan's hand clasped your jaw, a means of asserting dominance. He seized your lips in an intense kiss as you sought another after removing your sweater — an interlude far too fleeting for his taste to let it end there.

Having severed the kiss, having imbued it with the bittersweet flavor of his longing, he gently drew you back, his hand anchored to your face. In the subdued room, his gaze nearly disclosed a hint of regret for not being able to explore the contour of your chest more intimately. He indulged in the delight of relishing a closer sensation by letting his fingers glide from your neck to the delicate curve of one of your breasts, tenderly caressing it.

"Damn, babydoll, look at you. So damn sexy," Negan rumbled in a husky tone, his words carrying a mix of admiration and appreciation for what he was seeing — what he was feeling.

In the pursuit of evoking a reaction from your body, he persisted in his caress, his index finger accompanied by his middle finger captivating the tip of your mound to make it harden further. Allowing his lips to envelop your flesh button, he began to gently suckle, his hand cupping and kneading your second breast while his other hand glided down your back, drawing you nearer to him, as if such closeness were even possible. Simultaneously, he urged you to continue the friction that your pelvis created against his, while beneath the thick fabric of his gray trousers, his growing member was already palpable.

You sensed your heart pounding against your chest, sending tremors through your entire being. The passion ignited such a fervor, inducing a wetness between your thighs that heightened with each subtle motion against his bulge. As he worked on the first reddened mound, he shifted his attention to the second, prolonging the intimacy without breaking away. His hand, departing from the comforting warmth of your skin, ventured further, becoming more invasive as it found its place between your thighs.

You let out a soft sigh as his hands grazed your fevered skin. In touch with the cloth of your shorts, he effortlessly detected your moisture with a gentle, deliberate press. His smile brushed against your skin, teasing your hardening bud as he intensified the caress of his fingers against your welcoming depths, eliciting you a moan that sent shivers down his spine.

“So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs huskily, his words brushing against your skin.

Each shift of your body against his made you acutely aware of his hardness pressing against your lower abdomen, igniting vivid, consuming thoughts. His words and the sensations from his hands evoked a swarm of butterflies in your chest.

Passionate, moist kisses lingered on your lips, easing your sighs into delicate moans. Struggling to keep your responses in check, aiming not to draw the attention of his wives — who, you prayed, were sound asleep in their chambers, only served to heighten your fevered state. As the kisses deepened, you glanced down to witness the unfolding intimacy between you. The sensation was wet and intoxicating, a feeling you adored, yet it failed to satiate your longing ; you craved more, like an ache that consumed you.

Once more, your hands ventured under his t-shirt, gradually raising it to uncover his tonic abdomen amidst the subdued light of the television. As your hands glided around him, ascending his back to help disrobe him, your hips resumed their movement, driven by the burgeoning passion stirring within you.

You let out a hiss as your thighs quivered around him, feeling the discomfort of your shorts. Using your fingertips, you eventually made it to the edge of his pants, playfully tugging them down intermittently while seeking his approval through eye contact.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Negan exhaled deeply, smirking against your jaw.

He snarled and moved aside your damp underwear. Your desires were explicit, needing no further communication for him to comprehend your needs. He grazed his finger along your sensitive areas, savoring the sounds escaping your lips. Sensing your hands clutching his shoulders, he starts tracing circular motions around your nerve bundle, causing you to writhe on top of him.

“W-Wait,” you managed to say, widening your eyes, a surge of pleasure building as he persisted.

“Shh, let me take care of you. Cum for me,” he responded, prompting your release against his hand. “You're doing so well, sweetheart,” he praised you.

He lapped at your juices greedily on his fingers, revealing in the taste of your arousal. Encircling his arm around your delicate form, he effortlessly maneuvered to switch your positions, laying you on your side. You yielded without protest, sinking into the cushioned comfort of the sofa.

Leaning against the cushions with one arm, he stood tall above you and leaned in for a passionate kiss, his other hand swiftly pulling away the last garment covering your body, exposing you to the open air. Without needing assistance, he tore away your panties and eager to remove his own pants and boxers, freeing himself.

As you shared a kiss, he momentarily paused to collect saliva on his hand, which he used to moisten himself, locking eyes with you intensely. There was no turning back for both of you.

“Negan,” you gasp, a fervent ache consuming you.

“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg me,” he demands.

“Negan, please… I want you so bad,” you murmur in a quivering, warm tone near his ear, your eyes growing heavier as your bodies press together.

Grasping his girth, he glides it along your folds, teasing before exerting pressure to breach your intimacy. A guttural sound escapes his throat as he leans back, relishing the feeling of penetrating you. Despite the discomfort, you tremble, releasing a stifled moan as he tantalizes your wetness with his thumb. Retracting, he positions himself on his knees, guiding his member with a few deliberate movements.

Clasping your thighs firmly, he drew you nearer by lifting your knees towards his chest, seeking better access to your intimacy. His thumb moistened your entrance with your own secretions before he tease you with the head of his cock. He shifted above you, covering your lips with his own to stifle your sounds as he smoothly entered you, his pelvis slamming against yours.

Your chest rose and fell in sync with your racing heartbeat as your fingers gently wandered through the tangle of his dark locks at the back of his head. The tension surrounding you was so consuming that you lost awareness of your surroundings and any potential consequences of your actions.

When you sensed his entrance, your body instinctively arched and stiffened. Your face tensed as you tried to adjust to this new sensation. Gradually, you acclimated to his presence, and in a suggestive move, you raised your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist, signaling your desire for him to continue.

Gripping the sofa, he lifted your face abruptly, stifling a deep groan that resonated in his throat. The way your body arched upon his possession, the tightening of your flesh around him, heightened the rush of blood in his veins. Slowly, he eased into a series of gentle pelvic movements.

It was a captivating sight, leaving you breathless as you finally sensed his motion inside you. A thin film of sweat adorned your skin, and the heat brought a flush to your face, framed by damp strands of hair. Negan couldn't help but marvel at how perfect you looked in that moment — like a goddess who had descended from the heavens just for him.

His movements were restrained, as he aimed to find more space, all the while displaying a sense of self-control. This tenderness was not typical of his character. However, when Negan lifted his gaze to study your expressions and the fervor they revealed, he permitted himself to quicken his pace. Beginning softly and then progressively intensifying, causing your body to shift beneath him. His hand turned to silence your mouth, and his grunts intensified in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he moaned between a few strokes.

The manner in which his pelvis met yours left no room for evasion. This subtle motion that swept you along drove you to the edge, even though it was merely the start. You ultimately found the delight, the one veiled within your unspoken desires, beneath your garments, in the recesses of your intimacy. Each of your cries was subdued, to avoid raising any doubts and the movie, its credits scrolling on the screen, was no longer a cover for you.

“Tell me. Tell me you fucking belong to me, dollface,” he murmured, planting kisses along your collarbone before biting your earlobe, leaning in as he demanded, “Say it.”

“Fuck—,” you muttered, turning your face to meet his gaze.

You found yourself laughing nervously at every motion, electrified by the exquisite sensations that regularly coursed through you. Your legs clung to him while your hands had sought solace on his back. Your body quivered and molded around his larger frame.

“Say it,” he insisted, picking up his speed, surpassing the intensity he'd shown before.

“Yours. Only yours !” you gasped as you sensed him accelerating, feeling your muscles tightening around him.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. All mine,” he snarled, his voice dripping like honey.

A hush enveloped the surroundings, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of flesh meeting and the partially muted expressions of pleasure that conveyed the intense experience shared between you — and the need to stifle the impending cries pulsating within you nearly propelled you over the edge. Consumed by the moment, you disregarded any concerns about potential listeners, focusing solely on the overwhelming sensation that enveloped you.

A knot formed within you as a distant door creaked open, signifying the departure of one of Negan's wives from her room. The mere idea prompted you to stiffen. But Negan firmly held your hips, intensifying his pace, propelling you closer to the brink of climax.

“Hold on, there's somebody,” you gasp, confused by Negan's apparent indifference.

“It ain't an issue if there's company,” he declares, forcefully driving his hips against you.

“Negan I'm—,” you cursed, your hips rising to enhance the skin-to-skin connection. Your head arched backward, immersing you in a profound trance.

“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned, his voice husky with desire. “Show me how much you want it.”

Intense pleasure courses through your veins, compelling you to grasp his hair and arch your hips to meet his movements. His hold on your hips tightens like that of a ravenous creature, and you knew you would be bruised the next day, but in that moment, it doesn't matter.

Negan glided a hand down, teasing and stimulating your most sensitive spot with his thumb, propelling you closer to your next climax. The noises coming out of your throat as you came were the sexiest sounds he had ever heard and damn, it driving him wild. It's with one last powerful push, he poured himself into you, your bodies entwined in a dance of passion and desire.

“Fuck fuck fuuuck,” he spat, shutting his eyes.

He fell onto you, utterly drained. You both remained intertwined, allowing your still-warm bodies to linger in a comfortable silence. As you slowly regained awareness, the sound of the door closing snapped you out of your daze, and you were suddenly struck by the reality of the situation. Sensing your movement beneath him, Negan slowly rose, propping himself up with one arm.

“Did you just— ?” you halted, sensing a chilling atmosphere enveloping your core when Negan withdrew from you, appearing as bewildered as you felt.

“I didn't mean to. You made it hard for me with all this damn mess,” he breath. He seemed to hold himself responsible, hoping this error hadn't disrupted the beginning of your relationship. Truth be told, sleeping with you was a significant move in his plan to have you entirely for himself.

You fall into a moment of silence, still slightly affected by the intensity of your lovemaking. As you both prepare to dress, Negan, clad only in his boxers, catches your attempt to glance around the room. Interrupting, he requests you an another, gentler kiss. You find yourself smiling in the midst of this tender moment, momentarily forgetting your worries. Eventually, you begin to reassess your choice about joining his group of wives…

Maybe you should think about it again.

A/N : Thanks for reading ! And sorry for any grammatical or other mistakes, English is not my first language. If you have any fanfic requests regarding Jeffrey's characters, please feel free to ask — I'd be happy to write them for you <3

#jeffrey dean morgan #negan x reader #jeffrey dean morgan x you #negan smith x reader #negan fanfic #negan smut #negan x you #negan fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #negan fic #negan smith #twd negan

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zvaigzdelasas · 1 month

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Haiti’s deepening crisis — armed groups launching an assault on the government, and the de facto prime minister on indefinite layover in the San Juan, Puerto Rico airport — is a predictable consequence of 14 years of U.S. support for undemocratic regimes connected to Haiti’s PHTK party as it has dismantled Haiti’s democracy.

Haiti has a chance at reversing this descent and returning to a more stable, democratic path, but only if the Biden administration will let it.

Prime Minister Ariel Henry was stranded in San Juan Tuesday on his way back from Kenya, where he had signed an agreement for Kenyan police to come bolster his repressive, corrupt and unpopular regime. The armed groups, including many that had collaborated with Henry’s regime, took advantage of his absence to attack government infrastructure, and free 5,000 prisoners, many of them members of armed groups. Henry had planned to fly to the neighboring Dominican Republic and take a helicopter ride back to Haiti’s National Palace under the cover of darkness. But Dominican authorities refused entry to the prime minister’s chartered plane, which re-routed to San Juan.

Prime Minister Henry has not yet resigned, and the State Department denied reports that it demanded his resignation. But Henry has clearly lost the support of the United States, which for two years had allowed him to resist Haitians demands for fair elections. Absent Washington’s support, Henry has little chance of regaining power.

This dire situation is not only predictable, it was predicted. Haitian-American officials, Haitian civil society, members of the U.S. Congress, and other experts had been warning for years that the U.S. propping up Henry would lead to increasing tragedy for Haitians. The United States, which installed Henry in power in the first place, ignored these pleas and stood resolutely by its friend. With U.S. support, Henry’s unconstitutional term as prime minister exceeded any other prime minister’s term under Haiti’s 1987 Constitution. Levels of gang violence, kidnapping, hunger, and misery also reached unprecedented levels.

The United States is still insisting on getting Kenyan troops to Haiti. The State Department has persistently — if so far unsuccessfully — tried to deploy non-American boots onto Haitian ground since Henry requested them in October 2022. The mission’s deployment initially stalled because it was widely rejected as a bad idea that will primarily serve to prop up the repressive regime that generated the crisis. Haitian civil society [groups] repeatedly insisted that the first step towards security must be a transitional government with the legitimacy to organize elections and determine how the international community can best help Haiti.

Concerns that the intervention would serve only to reinforce an unpopular regime led the countries that the Biden administration first tapped to lead the mission, including Canada, Haiti’s Caribbean neighbors, and Brazil, to pass. The U.N. itself concluded that the mission would require too much “robust use of force” to be appropriate for a peacekeeping mission. So, the Security Council took the unusual step of authorizing the mission, but on the condition that it not actually be a U.N. mission that the organization would have to take responsibility for. The Biden administration, likely concerned about election-year cell phone videos of troops shooting indiscriminately in crowded neighborhoods — as the last foreign intervention did — declined to send U.S. troops for the mission (but is considering deploying a small Marine contingent to Haiti in early March).

Last August Kenya — which did not even have diplomatic relations with Haiti but did need the hundreds of millions of dollars that the United States offered — agreed to lead the mission. The exploratory delegation Kenya sent to evaluate conditions in Haiti quickly realized how deadly the planned mission would be for Haitians and Kenyans alike, and proposed to limit its scope to protecting public infrastructure.

The United States was not open to renegotiating the deal, and Kenya withdrew its proposed limits. But Kenya’s High Court temporarily blocked the deployment as unconstitutional. Ariel Henry’s visit to Kenya was for the signature of an accord that Kenya’s President William Ruto hoped would overcome the court’s objections. Kenyan lawyers insist that the agreement itself is illegal, and are continuing their challenge. In the meantime, Kenyan officers who had volunteered for the mission are changing their minds. Another obstacle appeared on March 7, when the White House conceded that the mission cannot be deployed without congressional approval of funding.

The State Department’s insistence that the Kenyan deployment must nevertheless happen raises fears that the United States will also continue its policy of installing and propping up undemocratic regimes in Haiti. Finance Minister Patrick Boisvert, who Henry tapped as interim prime minister when he left for Kenya, increased concerns of authoritarian governance on March 6 when he declared a three-day curfew and state of emergency throughout the Port-au-Prince region in an edict that did not even mention the legal basis for his authority. The next day Boisvert raised more fears by extending the emergency measures for a month and adding in a ban on all protests.

The State Department’s rescinding its support for Henry might have been promising had the gangs not already made his ouster inevitable. State’s claim that it now supports “an empowered and inclusive governance structure” that will “pave the way for free and fair elections” might have been promising if it had not added the condition that the new government must “move with urgency to help the country prepare for a multinational security support mission.”

A legitimate, broadly supported, sovereign transitional Haitian government might request foreign police assistance. But a government allowed to form only if it accepts a U.S.-imposed occupation force originally designed to prop up a hated, repressive government is not sovereign. It may not be legitimate or broadly-supported either.

The United States tasked CARICOM, the federation of Haiti’s Caribbean neighbors, to forge a civil society consensus. CARICOM has enjoyed credibility in Haiti in the past, but over the past few months it has faced criticism for trying to strong-arm civil society into an agreement that maintained Henry’s power. Not surprisingly, CARICOM-led talks on March 6 and 7 failed.

When allowed, Haitians have a history of coming together to make their way out of a crisis. Haiti became a country in 1804 by defeating Napoleon, with almost no outside help. In 1986, when the U.S. finally withdrew its support from Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier, Haitians eventually wrested power from the military and held fair elections. In 2006, they voted their way out of the crisis created by the U.S. kidnapping of President Jean-Bertrand Aristide two years before. In August 2021, shortly after the killing of Haiti’s last president, Jovenel Moïse, a broad-based group presented the Montana Accord that would have created a transitional government leading to elections in two years. The U.S. vetoed the accord, citing, among other reasons, that the two-year time frame was too long. That was 30 months ago, and there are no elections in sight.No amount of submission to U.S. demands by Prime Minister Henry and his predecessors can justify the absolute horror that our support has allowed them to inflict on the Haitian people. It is time for the United States to let Haitians come together and make their way out of the current crisis. Civil society [groups] [see] an opportunity for democracy in the crisis, and people all over Haiti have been meeting, discussing and negotiating to develop platforms for a broad-based, legitimate transitional government that can hold fair elections. It is expected that soon — maybe within weeks — one of these platforms will rise to the top, and civil society will coalesce around it. The United States needs to let that process happen without interference or conditions.

8 Mar 24

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neptuneiris · 9 months

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cardigan (epilogue) (1/2)

i knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standin' in my front porch light.

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 9.9K

previous part • next part

obviously i didn't expect this to be too long hahaha, even i was surprised, i didn't realize it was too much. so i decided to make the epilogue in two parts. thank u all so much por reading❤

Life in Highgarden could not have exceeded your expectations more.

At first you felt like you were supposed to when you came to live in a new city: terrified, anxious and nervous. You didn't want to feel lonely, but it was inevitable considering you know nothing and no one.

And when you arrive at your new dorm, you immediately loved it. Your room is bigger than the one at King's Landing and you have a beautiful view with lots of trees around and green grass.

Highgarden is well known for the fantastic flora and fauna. Everything is green, there are big trees and beautiful plants, there are even lakes and the weather ¡is perfect.

Yet you didn't have much time to get to know the city, because a week after you arrived, your classes started. And a week after you started your classes, you started your internship.

You met Arthur Winslow, the psychologist responsible of your internship, owner of a mental clinic for children, teenagers and adults.

He explained to you from the beginning that, once you were prepared, you would be present in cases of children and teenagers as well as adults to start your experience.

In addition, you would also support him in administrative things, such as his schedule, phone calls and so on. The pay is at a fair price, so it's perfect.

And as a result of Aileen and Sara not making it into the exchange program, you made new friends in your classes.

Although even if your friends had gotten in, Aileen would have chosen to go to Dorne and Sara to Winterfell, so you started talking to the people in your class.

They all came from different parts of the country, only a very few came from King's Landing and you didn't really talk to them much.

And after the first month passed, you just couldn't get any better.

You adjusted perfectly to your internship, to your classes which are wonderful and you also made good friends very quickly with whom you finally had that security to go around Highgarden almost in its entirety.

You went to many places, whether it was squares, parks, museums, lakes and even aquariums. Everything was so beautiful.

You took pictures, videos, made compilations with all your visits to upload to your Instagram, and even went out for fun on weekends to parties and bars with your friends.

You kept in touch with your friends at King's Landing and also let your parents know what you were doing by sending them pictures, videos and also talking to them on the phone.

Even Helaena messaged you by replying to one of your Instagram stories asking how you were doing and how you were doing at Highgarden.

Also her older brother messaged you, Aegon. He asked you how you were doing and also told you that he hasn't seen you in a while.

In truth with Aegon you did not speak much and fortunately neither of the two Targaryen brothers mentioned Aemond and for that you were grateful.

You were not thinking about him, not since you came to Highgarden and that is why you felt so at peace with yourself.

Despite being completely focused on your classes and internships more than anything else, you didn't lie to your friends that you had met and talked to a few guys.

You mostly met them at college parties, but nothing formal, it was all just hanging out.

You didn't have the mindset to really date, you didn't feel like you needed to and really a Highgarden guy didn't suit you if you were six months from now coming back to King's Landing.

You just had fun, experienced new things and officially started your psychology training.

And with the date getting closer and closer to return to King's Landing, you realized you didn't want to leave. Neither did Vhagar. At least not yet.

You grew attached very quickly to everything at Highgarden, even Vhagar with her walks in the parks and the view of the sunset when you took her for a stroll around the lake as well.

Everything was quiet and you felt at peace. However, you admit that you miss your friends and your life at King's Landing.

It's kind of a bittersweet taste to have to leave to go home. You definitely plan to come back because you've even grown quite fond of Dr. Winslow.

Until finally the date arrives and it's time to go back.

It was six months and yet it felt like it all happened in a matter of weeks. Yet you know you enjoyed every second at Highgarden and you don't feel like you wasted any time.

You immediately text your mom that you have landed at King's Landing and you also send a picture of your arrival to the group chat with Aileen, Sara and Ryan.

You call for an Uber and soon you find yourself arriving at the dorm with Vhagar in your arms.

The man driver helps you carry your bags up to your room, which you couldn't feel more grateful for, and as you enter that small space where you started your dependency, you feel nostalgic because you had missed it and happy because you are back.

And not long after you arrived, of course your friends would pay you an unannounced visit to welcome you back.

"You have to tell us everything.”

"And you have to show us the pictures you didn't upload to your Instagram."

"Did you meet cute guys?"

"How was your dorm?"

"How is the food?"

"We have to go to a party to celebrate."

You laugh as you notice the excitement in Aileen and Sara who are the ones asking all the questions while you and Ryan watch them with a small, amused smile.

And even though you didn't answer their questions, they still say they should get something to eat and drag you along with them to tell them everything.

Ryan takes them to a fast food restaurant in the middle of the university and soon the table is filled with fries, sodas, burgers, pizza and so on.

"You have to go one day, the program for the psychology internships are the best. The school is not that big, but the teachers are amazing, they even organize tours to many mental clinics of all kinds for all the students themselves. The only bad thing | could tell you about Highgarden is the food, it's not that good."

"Ugh no, dont tell me that,” says Aileen with a long-suffering face, "Don't make me change my mind about choosing Highgarden over Dorne if | get to go on exchange next year."

"But why would you want to go to a desert?” Ryan asks her confused, "Do you like to get your ass all sweaty?"

"Dorne is a place with incredible wonders and a lot of history, in case you didn't know,” she says seriously, "l've always wanted to see Sunspear."

"Just like any other place, genius. Besides, don't you know the temperatures reported in Dorne? It's like living in hell,” Ryan tells her incredulously. "l'm more supportive of Sara's idea to go to Winterfell where, if she's lucky, she'Il be able to go beyond the North and see the Wall. l'd rather do that than be dying of heat."

"So you'd rather be freezing to death?"

"Yes. A million times yes."

"And what about the parties?"

Sara asks you, picking up the subject and leaving aside for a moment Aileen and Ryan who continue arguing about Dorne and any other place in Westeros where according to Ryan it's better.

“They're not as noisy as here, but you still have a good time," you confess.

"Of course you have a good time,” Sara tells you mischievously, "All those guys you met seemed like they would really show you a good time."

You lower your gaze with a small embarrassed smile.

"It was just for the moment, that's all."

"And you didn't have any luck with any of them?"

You deny, looking at her again.

"I didn't want to. It wasn't...” You let out a sigh, "lt wasn't ideal."

"Oh come on, why not?” she asks incredulously, offended, "Didn't you get a good look at them? They were very handsome, Y/N. And they were just videos you sent us, I'm sure they were really hot in person."

You let out a small laugh, denying again.

"I didn't want to get attached to one of them, let alone start dating because | knew |'d be back here,” you confess, "And the whole long-distance relationships thing... it's not really my thing."

Sara grimaces and gives you a look of understanding at the same time.

"Well," she sighs, "At least you had fun with them."

"Not with all of them,” you clarify amused.

"But you did, so that counts."

After talking some more with Sara, since Aileen and Ryan are still busy debating... or rather fighting, you leave your part of the money for them to pay the bill while you go to the bathroom.

When you return, as you walk towards the table with your friends, a voice you know very well despite not having heard it in a while makes you stop as you hear your name called out.

"Y/N?"

And when you turn your head, a surprised Aegon Targaryen looks at you with a huge smile, standing with him is Helaena, apparently both of them having just arrived at the restaurant.

For an instant you panic at the thought that he's probably here too, but you're relieved to see that it's just the two of them.

"Is that you? Really?"

Aegon asks you amused, wasting no time in approaching you with Helaena following him and you also smile in his direction and shorten the distance between the two of you.

"It's been a long time since l've seen you too, Egg."

"Oh you little devil, you haven't forgotten how much | hate it when you call me that."

You both laugh and he wraps you in a tight hug that you reciprocate with the same affection, because even though Aemond was your best friend, you are still fond of all his brothers and nephews who have always been very good to you.

"Where have you been hiding? I haven't seen you for years."

He tells you incredulously, separating from you and you shrug your shoulders, already anticipating that you will talk about him. And even if you don't want to, you'll still have to.

"You know... here and there,” you say without much detail, shrugging your shoulders.

"Here and there where?" he asks you amused.

"Well... at school, with my friends and also at my exchange."

“But I dont see you around our house anymore, not even on birthdays, you didn't go to the ball either," he says almost in a sad tone, "You don't talk to my brother anymore, do you?" he asks a little more seriously, "Since the ball happened and he didn't take you, I knew something had happened. It seemed strange to me since you always went together every year."

You let out a long breath, lick your lips and nod, not wanting to give more importance to that matter that already happened many months ago.

"Yeah," you smile a little, affirming, "Yeah, since then."

"Forgive him,” Helaena stands between the two of you, with a smile and a sorry look, "l told him clearly that he won't ask you about him if he sees you when you come back, but his mental capacity is so low that the idiot doesn't understand."

You can't help but laugh at this, while Aegon at her side looks at her offended.

"l only wanted to corroborate what you told me,” he says innocently.

"Corroborate?" Helaena asks him.

"Yes," he says at once, still offendead, "I didn't believe you. At least not much. The two of them were inseparable and to suddenly not be friends anymore... it was like when | found out that Jack and Rose never existed and it was just a fictional story for the Titanic movie, I couldn't believe it and i felt cheated."

"Shut the fuck up."

Helaena says to him with a bad face and then turns to you with the smile and the softest and most pleasant look so characteristic of her.

"l'm so happy you're back. I didn't even know you were back, if i had known i would have texted you and we would have gone for a coffee."

"Thank you, Hel,” you smile softly at her, "And no, i didn't say anything about coming back and i honestly don't know why. I was so sad to leave but at the same time i was desperate to be back home."

"And what about Highgarden?" she asks you excitedly, "l've always been looking forward to going there. The nature there is just wonderful. There are lots of aquariums, isn't there?"

"Yes, yes, everything is amazing," you assure her, "Except the food. That's my only complaint. Everything is too... healthy"

"Oh yes, i knew that already," she says to you in understanding.

"And where do you live now that you don't live with my brother anymore?" Aegon asks interested, "Did you rent an apartment for yourself?"

"No, no, i live in a dorm now,” you clarify, "Because of the scholarship i got a big discount, and with the money i got paid for my internship at Highgarden, i have a chance to look for another job around here for a month."

"Oh, great,” he nods, listening to you attentively.

"A friend of mine who works at a boutique nearby recently told me they're looking for female employees. She works part time, maybe you have the same schedule if i pass you her number and she gives you more information."

Helaena tells you with such confidence that you're thankful that the first day you've been back to King's Landing, she's already saved you from looking for a job.

The flower shop where you worked before is already full of employees since your quitting, Sara told you since she went to ask to let you know before returning to King's Landing.

And now Helaena has helped you with that.

"That would help me a lot, Hel. Thank you so much."

"Oh, it's nothing,” she says nonchalantly taking her phone, "I'II tell my friend and then I'll pass you her number, don't worry."

After talking and keeping up with both of you for a few more minutes, your friends call you to leave and that's when the three of you say goodbye.

They both tell you if you want to keep them company, but since you've already eaten and you also have a mess in your room that needs to be cleaned up for your return, you agree to go out to dinner next week.

And just as you say, that's what happens once you're back in your dorm.

Vhagar greets you and keeps you company as you start to get all your clothes, shoes, make-up and all your stuff out of the suitcases. You also get something in and start arranging your few pieces of furniture in different ways in your space, wanting to try something new.

You put all your clothes in your closet, not wanting to leave anything for later, that takes some time, also to sweep and rearrange everything as you had it in your small bathroom.

You even fill a basket with clothes that need to be washed and go down to the laundry room, really not wanting to leave anything for later knowing that you have busy weeks ahead of you because of college and you want to get everything ready.

You wait for the clothes to be washed and also to dry, then go back to your room and continue organizing everything.

Until the sunset starts to show through your window and realizing that you are not missing anything anymore, you can finally lay down on your bed with Vhagar and rest.

You pick up your phone and begin to entertain yourself with Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, letting the time pass.

Vhagar settles in next to you and you get more comfortable to start watching Tiktoks, entertaining yourself for another good time.

You think to yourself that maybe later you'll go downstairs to buy something from the vending machine and watch a movie or maybe a series until you fall asleep, sounding like an awesome plan for you.

Then you finally get up, grab your most comfortable clothes and take a bath. It doesn't take you long and you dry your hair, then you feed Vhagar and take money to go buy food and watch the movie or series.

When suddenly there is a knock on your door.

You watch it in silence, thinking confused that you are not expecting anyone. And you have no idea who it could be. You didn't agree with your friends that they would come here later if you've already seen each other in the morning.

You check your messages to see if any of your friends told you they were coming to visit you unexpectedly, but nothing.

So you go to open the door thinking that it must be one of your friends and they decided not to tell you about coming over, but when you open your door you didn't expect it to be your ex-best friend, Aemond.

You freeze the moment you see him, definitely not expecting it.

As his gaze lights up when he sees you and the two of you are face to face after what felt like an eternity of the two of you not seeing each other.

You unconsciously take a step back, surprised and confused, your lips parted, as he watches you intently, almost with a hopeful look, maybe because he's afraid you'll slam the door in his face.

But you don't move from shock because you didn't expect it to be him and you didn't expect to see him so suddenly after so many months.

And he… hasn't changed.

You know it's only been months, there's not much difference, but it's the same appearance since the last time you saw him. His hair is still short to your surprise and his clothing style is the same.

What you do notice are the muscles on his arms are more pronounced and you also get the impression that he is a little taller.

While you… what can you say about yourself? Really nothing.

The only new thing you've done is to start trotting in the mornings, also your hair is short below your shoulders when before you had it down to your waist and you've put more earrings in both ears.

And neither of you say anything.

The two of you are simply inspecting each other after a long time without seeing each other, you mostly feeling just as confused to see him here.

You really don't understand how he is here. Or rather how he knew you were already back.

He certainly couldn't have known, you still have him blocked from all your social media networks.

Then….?

You ask yourself but the answer comes to you in a second.

Aegon.

You think in affirmative mode. And also probably Helaena because the three of you met at the restaurant. But you know it was Aegon who must have told him everything.

You don't doubt that maybe Hel wanted to kill him.

When after a few more seconds, the two of them not speaking and just watching each other, you finally react, instantly feeling nervous, without really knowing why.

Also that little remorse comes to your chest for everything that happened between you and what happened the last time you saw each other, remembering everything you told him crying.

You hug yourself and bite the inside of your cheek, also as he is looking at you, remembering his girlfriend, the ball and also your birthday.

When he speaks first.

"Hi."

He says to you letting out a sigh afterwards, stirring in front of you, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets, which are movements you know he does when he's nervous.

Also his look tells you he's a bit worried and anxious, but he still stands tall in front of you, his lilac eye watching you intently and having a slight gleam in it.

And his sapphire in your direction… it looks just as beautiful and stunning as ever.

"Hi."

You answer him with your tone of voice a little lower and feeling a little uncomfortable, puzzled, but you also stand firm in front of him, feeling nervous.

You certainly weren't prepared for when this moment happened and you know he wasn't either, yet here he is.

"W-what are you doing here?"

You ask trying not to let your voice sound shaky, holding back.

He swallows hard and looks away from you for a moment while he presses his lips together, to look at you again with those nerves and that certain hope.

"Actually… I wasn't too sure about coming here," he confesses with a soft look in his eyes, just like his voice, "Aegon told me you had returned to King's Landing and I wanted to see it myself."

At this, you lower your gaze for a moment and bite your lips. Yet… strangely… you don't feel upset.

"He told me by accident and got a good punch from Helaena," he adds and you look at him again.

You don't say anything for a few seconds, just look away from him, swallow hard and let out a long breath.

"Well, it's true, I'm back. If that's all, you can go now…

"Y/N..."

He calls out to you this time hopefully, interrupting you in a quick tone, not wanting to waste the opportunity and clearly not wanting this to be over any faster than he wants it to be.

It's the first time you've seen each other in months and in all these months a lot has happened and he just… wants to try.

It doesn't matter that you in the end don't want to, that you're still upset and don't want to see him, because he will understand and he will finally respect your decision, but he wants to try first.

He doesn't want to leave without trying.

"I know you probably don't want to, because I know you didn't expect to see me and maybe you even want to kick me out…"

He says lowering his gaze for a second, sighing, and then he looks at you again.

"But I want to risk myself," he tells you honestly, "and I'll understand if you say no, truly," he assures you, "I just want to talk to you and after this, if you still don't want me to bother you anymore, then I won't go near you again, I assure you."

He tells you and you remain paralyzed again for a few seconds, listening to him and watching him with your lips parted.

"And if you want me to leave now, I will. But I just want to try…" he lets out a long breath, gathering his courage, "So…. may I come in, please?"

He asks you softly, watching you just the same and almost expectantly, stirring continuously where he stands, knowing full well that he is as nervous as you are, while you have no idea what to do.

Your mind starts thinking fast, considering what you should and shouldn't do.

But the truth is that nothing comes to your mind. You just have a quick, unexpected debate on whether to let him into your room or not.

Vhagar behind you barks twice, watching Aemond very intently, while repeatedly wagging her tail back and forth excitedly and looking very playful.

While Aemond in front of you watches her with excitement and some hope, to again focus on you, ready to face the decision you will make, either yes or no.

And finally after what feels like an eternity, you know that rejecting him is probably the best option, but for some reason… you can't find the courage to do it.

And not because seeing him now in front of you and having heard his words has softened your heart, but because you realize that your heart doesn't hurt like it used to.

Maybe it was all the time you stayed apart and you healed in Highgarden, helped by the change of air, your lifestyle and the new people around you, unconsciously overcoming everything that happened between you, that you don't feel that pain anymore.

However… you do feel a weight. A weight on your shoulders and in your heart.

And it is because of that weight that after considering it in depth, with your soft gaze, you step aside and open the door wider, allowing him the entrance to your room.

Aemond would be lying if at that moment he didn't feel as if he had just received the news that he won the lottery, because surprise overcomes him and also relief.

And not wanting you to take it back, he enters your room, thanking you with his gaze in silence, while you control your nerves and close the door, facing this.

He in an instant is already in Vhagar who eagerly and seemingly happily enjoys being in his arms and licks his hands and cheeks, making him laugh and give her kisses, caressing her.

You can't help but smile a little at the scene, but you are just the same neutral and firm.

When he watches you over Vhagar, he leaves another kiss on her head and sets her back down on your bed, now looking as if he has no idea what to do.

He honestly didn't think it would go this far. He thought you'd slam the door in his face.

But you're both here. Face to face with each other. And certainly with a lot of things to say that you couldn't say to each other before.

"Hmm…" he says, stirring and glancing briefly at your room, "Did I interrupt you with something important?"

He asks and watches you intently, to which you deny, crossing your arms.

"No," you answer softly, "I was just planning to go buy something from the vending machine downstairs and watch something, a movie or a series."

"Oh," he nods, understanding, "well, if you want, I'll go," he offers, "you haven't eaten anything?"

"No. You?"

"I haven't either. But I can go and buy some dinner for both of us, only if you want. There are many restaurants near here."

"Well…

You stir uncomfortably.

"Only if you want."

"Yeah, no problem," he assures you.

And again he leaves you alone in your room saying he will be back soon, making you sigh and sit on your bed with an almost terrified expression… not expecting or understanding any of this.

The fact that he's gone to buy food helps you mentally prepare yourself for when he comes back, having no idea how they'll start talking about everything that happened.

You don't even know what he will tell you first, but you calm down and use the time he has given you to not feel nervous and terrified.

You take a deep breath, you say that everything will be fine, that this shouldn't be awkward… or at least not too awkward and that if both you and he start to feel like it's too much, you can both say so.

And of course you don't want any of this to lead to a fight. It wouldn't be wise and it's totally unnecessary.

When after a few minutes, Aemond returns with Chinese food, soda and fries from the vending machine.

He actually buys you some of your favorite chips and has also ordered you the Chinese food exactly the way you like it. At this you just thank him and both of you settle into your bed.

You put Vhagar down, give him some of her food and the two of you begin to eat.

At first it did feel a little awkward, but then, as you talk about the food being delicious and ask both of you to pass such things around, the mood begins to lighten and it's like going back to when you both lived together.

The two of them are comfortable, eating, talking about anything and watching a movie, although this time there is no movie.

And he is the first to start a conversation.

"How was Highgarden?" he observes you attentively, his gaze soft, interested.

"Incredible," you answer without hesitation.

He nods, as the two of you put more pieces of food in your mouths and then you take a sip from your bottle of soda.

"You told me that's where the best psychology internship programs are, right?"

"Yes," you affirm, "When I found out I got into the exchange program, it was the first place I applied."

"And you didn't have any problems?"

"No," you observe him softly, "Because of my good grades they didn't deny me anything, they gave me one of the first places in internships for Highgarden and everything was a very fast process. And when I got there and met the psychologist in charge of me and his clinic… it was just amazing."

"Yeah," he murmurs, "yeah, I can imagine. And I'm happy for you."

He tells you honestly, with a small smile that you return. A genuine smile from both of us.

"Thank you."

"And how did it all go? What was that you were doing? Did you get to know all of Highgarden too?"

And you tell him everything.

You tell him how your first weeks were, how was your dorm, the university, the new people you met, your internship, Dr. Arthur, what you had to do and you even told him about some very interesting cases.

You also told him about the places you met, showed him pictures and videos. You tell him that you went out partying on a few weekends, all the while he listens to you and watches you with great attention, looking genuinely interested, and asking you more questions.

Until you have nothing more to tell him about your six months at Highgarden.

"What about you? Haven't you started your internship yet?"

You ask him interestedly.

"Yes, since April," he says, "Obviously it wasn't difficult. I'm going to my father's company and I got some of my friends to do their internships there as well.

"Oh," you nod, understanding, "and what do you say?"

"What do I say?" he repeats, letting out a sigh, "well, it's not as interesting as what you told me," he says with a small smile, "It's all finance, paperwork, computer programs and so on. But that's what I like and I've been doing very well."

"Yes," you murmur, looking at a spot in your room, "But it's interesting," you tell him, "I've always thought you'd end up like one of the characters in Succession, someday running your father's important company as a rich and powerful man.

He smiles softly and then looks at you, to which you also smile in his direction.

"Am I right?" you ask him amused.

"In fact yes, you are absolutely right," he assures you in the same way.

There's no more food except for chips and soda, so he then starts talking to you more about his life and everything he's been doing lately besides college and his internship.

All while you both stare at an unimportant spot in your room, side by side, eating junk food.

And you listen to him with close attention, really interested in wanting to know what his life has been like now that you are no longer a part of it.

He tells you about how he has spent more time with his family, he tells you about Daeron, Rhaenyra, Daemon and even his cousins and nephews, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena.

He tells you how they all spent a small part of the summer on Driftmark, an island near Dragonstone where his whole family also has a property right there, but which belongs to his aunt and uncle Rhaenys and Corlys.

You knew about Driftmark, but never in your years of friendship with Aemond did he invite you there because all his family always organized anything in his huge mansion here in King's Landing or in Dragonstone.

He also tells you about upcoming birthdays and everything his mother has planned.

And in everything he talks about, he doesn't mention Alys at all, maybe for fear that you might get upset or uncomfortable and want him to leave, because you don't dare ask him about her either.

You just let him talk to you about the first thing that comes to his mind, both of you comfortable in your bed and still eating junk food.

When Aemond seems to have told you everything and you both stay in a comfortable silence, almost shoulder to shoulder, both of you watching your little room and just letting time pass by.

And that's when Aemond watches you with his soft gaze, while you continue to eat fried food, staring into nothing. He swallows hard and lets out a long breath.

"I owe you an apology."

You freeze for a moment, still looking at everything around you but him, surprised by his words and beginning to understand where this is going.

Unable to help yourself, you look at him and he looks at you with a look that is both serious and gentle, looking honest, only to look away, maybe because of nerves, and continue talking.

"I was a very bad friend to you," he says in a murmur, "what I did to you is something unforgivable, I know, something you didn't deserve," he admits, "I don't expect you to forgive me Y/N, I'm not asking for that, I just want to talk to you and that you listen to me, that….

"I don't want to listen to your apologies only if you say them out of pity, Aemond," you interrupt him, serious.

"What? No, no, this is not for pity, Y/N," he assures you, honest and desperate to clarify, "I never felt pity for you and you know it."

"I don't know," you mutter, "After what happened, you made me doubt if our friendship was genuine or because you wanted and were my friend for pity," you confess.

"Y/N…" he tells you in a sigh, sad, denying, "since you left… since we stopped seeing and talking to each other… you don't know everything I wanted to tell you, everything I wanted to apologize for even if you didn't forgive me."

"Aemond…" you call him cautiously, "you can't apologize to me just to make me forgive you and your girlfriend too, you….

"I broke up with Alys."

He interrupts you with the most honest and quickest sentence he's ever said in all the time you've been together, making you freeze once more and stare at him with your lips parted.

And he watches you with the most honest look, wanting to clarify that point as much as possible and that there is no doubt, even feeling proud to say it.

"I broke up with her days after you left the apartment, and that was the last time we saw each other," he explains, in a low, honest tone.

But even after telling you that, you don't feel entirely confident. That's why you lower your gaze and swallow hard as you consider how strong his relationship was.

"But if you go back with her, I don't….

"No, Y/N," he says to you in denial, "I'm done with her for good," he assures you, "I didn't want to and I don't want to have anything to do with her anymore. I don't care anymore, she's nothing to me and never really was in all the time we were together."

You listen to him surprised, attentive, breathing a little faster than usual, not understanding, while he then starts to tell you everything.

Everything he wanted to tell you since your friendship started to fall apart and the moment it broke.

"Alys managed to get my attention a lot when we first met. She led me to believe on our first few dates that a relationship could be good, healthy and loving. But when we finally formalized everything, she started to show herself as the real person she is when she already had me," he explains, "And I naively gave her everything she asked for, even money, because I was obsessed with her and the way she made me feel. She made me feel so unique, so wanted and so special that I-I just…" he lets out a sigh, "I let her hold me in the palm of her hand."

He brings one of his hands to the nape of his neck, ruffling his short hair with his fingers, feeling strange telling you all this, but also feeling it as a necessity for you to listen and understand him.

And you really don't have any problem, you listen to him carefully and let him tell you everything he wants to tell you, still feeling a little sharp pain in your chest.

"She would even tell me things she didn't agree with or like, either about me or my family, making me feel bad and upset sometimes, but then she would turn them into just a point of view and convince me that I had misunderstood her, when I hadn't," he explains to you, "She told me that my mother was very controlling after she met her, that my siblings, even Helaena, seemed very weird to her, and that Daemon didn't seem like a good person."

You are surprised to hear that and pay more attention, while Aemond feels ashamed of himself for telling you this, but it is the truth.

"In that instant I should have put a stop to her, I know. But like the fucking idiot I am, I kept letting myself be easily manipulated by her, because she kept telling me it was just her first impression and her views," he says in a low, sorrowful whisper, "She just had a long conversation with my father without looking bored. I even noticed she changed her attitude and looked more… kind. But only with him."

He says in a bitter tone, while you understand what he's going on about.

"And of course, how could she not be nicer to him," he says with a smile and a bitter look, "With her about to graduate, she told him about that and also about her internship with the man who owns the most important company in the country. She talked about everything she knows and her skills, almost telling him her entire resume so he would hire her."

Now you let out a long breath, must have imagined it.

You thought Alys had really fallen in love with him. That's what you always thought until today when he gave you the news that he broke up with her months ago and that there was no love in the relationship.

You always thought that no girl could reject Aemond for his personality and his looks, that no one could reject him for being him, for knowing him and in an instant wanting to know more about him.

Because that's how you fell in love with him, you didn't fall in love because of what he had and what he could offer you professionally and economically.

But that was just what caught Alys' attention, not his personality and his heart.

"It also happened that when I would talk to her about my classes or an important project that I had worked hard on and got an excellent grade, she would say that it wasn't enough and that I needed to work harder to earn my father's company. She discredited everything I did, telling me that I had to do more so that someday I could be the boss and both of us could run the company, talking about those kinds of plans and almost assuring me that it would be like that," he says seriously and bitterly, "She insulted my friends, saying that they only cared about parties, that they were alcoholics and did not care about their studies, that they were useless and did not contribute anything to me now and would not do so in the future. She also said that I should have more serious and professional friends around me."

He lets out a long breath, really at that moment with you by your side realizing more how really bad his relationship was, the kind of very nasty girl he had by his side and how very blinded he was.

"The same thing happened with you," he says to you, saddened, "Clearly you know because you heard that conversation."

You bite your lips, remembering how bad she made you feel with her words. And so does he, corroborating with her.

"I owe you more than an apology for that, Y/N," he tells you honestly, "You were right, a best friend doesn't leave her best friend aside and that time I didn't even defend you. I should have stopped her, I should have put myself firm with her… but I didn't." he says apologetic, sad and disappointed, "and I'm very sorry for that."

Then you realize that you can't accept those apologies, because it really hurt you a lot to hear that conversation and that he didn't stand up for you because of the way you are and what you like to do.

If things had been the other way around, you would have defended Aemond with all your might, because he was your best friend.

"She was the reason why I started to leave you aside on weekends, why I gradually left you living alone and also why I didn't take care of Vhagar anymore, because she doesn't like dogs," he says seriously and sighs, "She was also the one who convinced me to take her to the ball and planned everything so I would forget your birthday," he confesses to you, saddened. "She deleted messages from you that morning, she confessed it to me when I confronted her when I realized that your birthday had already passed and that even weeks later she made me stay with her so I wouldn't see you. She also planned that stupid two hour dinner with her parents to delay me so I wouldn't notice and let the whole one night go by."

You bite your lips again, not watching him, feeling the urge to cry remembering that day, your birthday, because he also made you feel so bad during and still after by not getting any explanation from him.

And all because of her. But also for him, because he wouldn't put a stop to it.

"And yet I was still with her…" he says in a sigh, incredulous and disappointed in himself, "Like I said, she had me exactly the way she wanted me to be, and she would convince me otherwise when she didn't like something or made me behave differently than she wanted me to."

He shakes his head, feeling annoyed with himself for allowing it, for having fallen so low, letting himself be moved by her as she wanted, making him start to think that his friends were less important than her, his girlfriend.

That she was more important than Y/N, his best friend, who had always been there for him in very good and very difficult times, leaving her and throwing away their friendship of years for a relationship of months.

"She knew exactly what to do and what to say to make me stay," he murmurs, "But Alys never loved me and never really cared for me. She only cared about me out of interest and wanted to be with me out of the same interest, which was all she cared about."

"Did you love her?"

You dare to ask him without observing him, with a thread of voice, while Aemond at your side watches you for a few moments in silence and with his eye wide open in surprise.

I didn't expect you to ask him that, in fact I didn't expect any questions at all, but despite that, he knows the answer.

He knows it since the last time they both saw each other.

"No."

He respond in a low tone but completely serious and honest, while you dare to observe him surprised, but with an almost expressionless gaze and your lips parted.

"At first I came to have a certain affection for her … but only at first," he confesses, "Then it became that obsession with how she made me feel, but nothing else. I never came to love her and I am very relieved by that."

You take your eyes off him, closing your eyes for a moment, letting go of a long breath.

"And after I didn't see you again and I found out that you had gone on exchange… you don't know how that made me feel, Y/N," he swallows hard, "I had lost one of the most important people in my life. life for a fucking relationship and my own behavior. I wasn't thinking, I was an idiot. And I just wanted to scream and break everything for losing you… for not fixing it sooner."

An ugly and huge lump forms in your throat, observing an unimportant point in your room, your gaze lost and your eyes beginning to fill with tears.

You really didn't want to feel that way, you didn't want his words to soften you up, yet…they did.

But you hold back as much as you can, while Aemond next to you feels the same thing that you are feeling, but he doesn't dare to do anything about it, realizing your state, wanting to give you your space.

When you finally take a deep breath and talk to him even without looking at him.

“I missed you a lot too, Aemond. I missed you throughout your relationship with Alys and after I left to Highgarden. I missed you even when you didn't even deserve it."

You confess in a low and honest murmur, completely drawing his attention, you saying nothing else for a few seconds, swallowing the lump in your throat and completely holding back your tears.

While he listens to you and watches surprised, not expecting that, since he thought that all this time you had been hating him. He even thinks you hate him now.

And yes, if it was something like that, there was hatred, resentment, anger and courage for everything that happened, but even so, you also missed it very much.

You missed him, but you didn't forgive him.

"You also don't know how much I hate myself for ending our friendship, Y/N," he tells you in a sad and regretful whisper.

When you look back at him.

“I cannot forgive you, Aemond. Not yet."

And your words are like a dagger in the heart, a wound that, despite the fact that it hurts, accepts and respects it. He certainly didn't expect you to forgive him, but telling him that you had missed him, too, lit a small spark of hope in him. But it was not like that.

And he really respects it.

He doesn't want to make the same mistakes again, and so he does, feeling less weight on his shoulders, relieved that there aren't all those negative feelings between you anymore.

Nor does he expect that after this, everything will be back to the way it was before, because it won't.. He knows it's impossible. And if everything really ends between you both, then he will respect that too.

That's why he nods in your direction, both of you looking into each other's eyes, a understanding look and a small, soft, closed-mouthed smile on his lips, letting you know he's perfectly fine with that.

"Yes, i know," he assures you softly. “It's alright, I understand."

You nod gently in his direction, also placing a small gentle smile and both of you take your gazes away from each other and immersing in a comfortable silence.

Comfortable because finally neither of you feels that weight anymore and everything seems to be… fine.

Both of you have already said everything you wanted to say.

Or almost.

Because in the middle of that silence, Aemond starts thinking fast, having an indecisive debate in his mind, telling himself that enough has been enough, that everything is fine between you now and he doesn't want to ruin it.

But his heart tells him to do it, that there is still more.

While you by his side take your bottle of soda and take a sip, comfortable, this feeling good, but also knowing that this does not mean that the two will resume their friendship.

But for the moment… you enjoy it. You enjoy the moment.

And that's when he speaks again.

"After you left King's Landing…

He starts and you watch him, getting your attention.

"Helaena told me something," let out a long breath, "Something that made me finally realize my feelings and that made me have a little hope, even though you were already gone."

You are still watching him with attention, not having the slightest idea that it could be that what his sister told him, when Aemond looks up at you and looks into your eyes with his soft and honest gaze.

"She told me that you're in love with me."

Your hands become paralyzed first, you stop drinking soda and then your whole body is the one that is motionless, while you observe it with your lips between open, with your confused, attentive and nervous look at the same time.

You don't understand anything.

It's not like you told Helaena about it, in fact no one knows.

And it only makes you feel more nervous that Aemond is there, right next to you, acting completely normal about it, now that he already knows, continuing to observe you in the same way.

But you can't speak, you're still in shock, starting to feel like your pulse is racing too fast.

"She told me that you didn't tell her anything, that she just… knows," he says to you later, still in a soft tone, still making you panic.

You turn your gaze away from him, blink several times, starting to react from panic and nerves and hold your drink tightly.

"You should go."

It's all you say in a thread of voice, not daring to look him in the eye any more and you quickly get up from your bed, wanting to put as much distance as possible between the two of you.

You take Aemond by surprise, who stands up slightly, watching you worried, desperate and a little confused as you go to your door.

When his next words cause you to become paralyzed again, tensing up completely.

"I'm in love with you, too."

He says to you almost desperately, wanting to clarify as soon as possible, watching you attentively and cautiously, slowly getting out of bed to address you very carefully, not wanting to upset you more.

And he begins to explain to you with his soft tone, waiting for the moment so that he turns to you and can talk to you in the eyes, wanting you to see how very honest he is being with you.

"I don't know since when exactly, Y/N. It was probably before we graduated from high school," he lets you know, "That's why I asked you to live with me, because I certainly wouldn't have asked just anyone, and I-I… wanted to be close to you, almost all the time."

Your pulse continues to race, listening to his words carefully, feeling again the urge to cry, even without daring to look at him face to face.

"And all those dates, all those girls I went out with or flirted with at parties…" he sighs, "I told myself that I didn't get any further with them because it just hadn't worked out, when the truth is that I was fooling myself and it was me who didn't take them any further… because they weren't you."

He confesses to you and that's when you can't take it anymore and the first tears fall, starting to shake and with the realization starting to become clear to you as you hear it.

"And I wanted to repress my feelings for you with them, I wanted to fall in love with someone because I didn't want to ruin our friendship, Y/N," he tells you honestly, "And I know it sounds stupid and it's probably tired of hearing it already… but it's the truth. You don't know how much I was terrified of losing you, of losing our friendship because of feelings that weren't reciprocated… or that I thought weren't reciprocated."

Then slowly, Aemond, dares to raise his hand and gently touch your arm, turning you towards him very carefully and tactfully, needing to see you and needing you to see him.

And you let him.

Shaking, but you let him.

And his heart breaks the moment he sees you, with your sad, surprised face, your teary eyes and red cheeks, watching him as if he can't believe it.

"I wish I had known, Y/N," he says softly, watching you with all the love and gentleness in the world, "Because then Alys came, a girl with a personality I hadn't met before, pretending to be a good person and she made me distract myself from you by falling into her games."

You bite your lips, holding back the tears as much as you can, while he continues talking to you and explaining with all the sincerity in the world.

"And I know I was very selfish with all those girls and also with you when I saw you with that guy at that party, having a good time and having fun without me," he confesses with regret, "You don't know how upset I was and how terribly jealous I felt, Y/N. That was when I thought I had lost you for good and I hated myself not only for having ended our friendship, but also for never having confessed my feelings to you and realizing too late… what I lost for a person who wasn't worth it."

He lets out a long breath, biting the inside of his cheek and watching you with all the sincerity, love and affection as he says his next words.

"I love you, Y/N. I have always loved you. Just in the same way you love me…. or loved me," he corrects with a soft sad tone, "I was just too much of a coward to tell you and I didn't give you a chance to tell me either by going out and pretending with all those girls," he lowers his gaze, "I'm sorry."

Then, it's like you're living in a dream.

You don't know if it's real or not.

But you know it's real because of his touch on your arm and the closeness between the two of you, with him looking at you like that, being so terribly honest that it scares you.

It scares you because this is just what you wanted to hear.

This is everything you wanted to hear from him towards you, being just another one of your most pathetic and impossible dreams. But here you are. He has told you.

And that's exactly why you can't control it anymore and right there, in front of him, you lose it completely and the first sob escapes your lips, just as your tears are rushing down your cheeks.

You cover your face completely ashamed, crying, only you don't know if it's from happiness or sadness… or probably both.

But you know you cry because this is what you have been longing to hear for a very long time and you cry wondering why now, why now that things between you are no longer bad but not quite right either.

But mostly you cry because you feel confused.

Since you left King's Landing, one of your purposes was to leave him behind and forget, to undo those feelings for him. But you couldn't.

You still love him.

You love your best friend just the same way he loves you too, being something that was going on for a long time, simultaneously, but without both of you knowing it.

And you feel confused because you don't know if you should finally take this thing you've always wanted, you don't know because of everything that happened, even though he has already explained and apologized to you.

But you don't feel totally confident because he really hurt you so much.

And you don't know if what happened, will happen again and that's just what you don't want. You don't want him to hurt you again.

And Aemond, surprised by your behavior, yet he understands you and doesn't judge you.

That's why he wastes no time and pulls you into a gentle, firm and comforting embrace, letting himself be carried away by his feelings as well.

And you don't push him away. You let him hold you and lock you in his arms, just like you loved him to do when you lived together or saw each other during the day because his hugs have always comforted you and made you feel safe.

And that's also where you can let out your feelings.

He starts to comfort you too with soft words in your ear, stroking your hair with his hand, telling you that it's okay, that everything is fine, that this shouldn't change anything either, that you are the one who has the last word about the two of you.

As he continues to apologize for everything in soft murmurs, holding you tightly against him, not letting you go until you are well.

Until little by little, your sobs begin to decrease and you begin to calm down, sniffling your nose and still hugging him, taking all the time you need until your whole roller coaster of emotions stops.

Aemond doesn't let go, but does so slowly as you begin to stir, watching you intently and worriedly.

You bring your hands to your cheeks, wiping away your tears and sniffling your nose, to which he quickly runs his thumbs over your cheeks as well, still watching you with all that tenderness, that understanding and that affection.

"Are you all right, my pretty one? Do you need anything?"

You deny, again embarrassed, but at least feeling better and less emotional.

"N-no. I'm just… sorry, it wasn't m-my inte…

"Shh, no, it's okay," he interrupts you softly, "it's okay. This was my fault, I never meant to make you react like this. I should have been more careful with you."

"It wasn't that, Aemond," you confess, sniffling once more, "You took me by surprise, that's all. And I-I c-couldn't control myself, i-it was too much."

"Yes, I know, I know, pretty one. It's all right, everything's all right."

And again he pulls you into a soft, comforting embrace that you allow, now no longer feeling like those earlier hugs where before between the two of you there was the word friendship.

Now it's something more… something more intimate and more… honest.

And that's because both of you finally know each other's true feelings.

But still… after this, what you need is time. And that's exactly what you're asking for.

i couldn't tag many of you and I apologize if you asked me to tag you and I didn't, I could have missed your user but thank u so much for reading 😢❤

tag list:

@winxschester @namoreno @fan-goddess @lauftivy @bellameshipper @iloveallmyboys @barnes70stark @amazingnerd @yentroucnagol @helaenaluvr @almostpurplelady @lilitheal @targaryenmoony @dangerousstateofmind @summerposie

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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moronkombat · 6 months

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Havik, Shao, Rain, Raiko, and Quanshi love at first sight with an earthrealmer?

It's just an ordinary day for Rain. Nothing special about it, nothing horrible about it either. Simply another day to pass his long lifespan. He's very much so absorbed in his studies of the arcane, intolerant for other distractions. That is until he comes across you. There's a rather quick glance as you walk by, thinking you to be a mere distraction. That all changes when his second glance to you lingers. Rain would stare quietly with his mouth agape. He watches you strut by wordless and without even noticing him. Eyes watch you until you have gone out of sight and Rain can feel the thunderous pitter patter in his chest. Perhaps his studies can end early today

General Shao has never really preoccupied himself with thoughts of relationships and love. There are are more pressing matters to concern himself with. Then he sees someone new, someone small. Much smaller than he is and Shao finds himself pausing. There is something so tempting about them and he cannot help but keep his gaze trailed to you. You are feeble and fragile...It'd be so easy to break you but never would Shao dream of doing that. No, he feels this urge to cherish you, protect you. Yes, this what he wants and if to do so then he must know your name. He will make sure to seek you out later, away from other prying eyes

It is when Reiko is training troops that he notices you. He is a tough and strict commander but he needed to be if his underlings were to survive. His arms would cross and a smirk is written on him while he watches the ensuing training. It is by chance that he glances your way but when he sees you, pale eyes widen. There you are, strong yet regal, taking down your sparring opponent with exceeding grace and vigor. His smirk widens and he continues to watch you move like a banshee while you continue to strike down your opponents. You are magnificent as you cut them down, strike them and Reiko's heart is pounding like the drums of war. He will be sure to compliment on your abilities before immediately wanting to take you under his wing which is a shock to all the other trainees

Quan Chi's life is mundane and full of hardship. He slaves away in the mines, sweat drenching his brow. There must be more to life than this, surely? Thoughts of such things are cutoff when, during his break, he catches a glimpse of you. You are beautiful, stunning and someone who is so pure. You don't belong here, far too grand for it and yet here you are. Perhaps related to the owner? He isn't sure but he wants to know more about you but how can he? You are from a different life than he is and yet he simply cannot stop thinking about

When Havik's eyes find you for that dreadful first time, he is consumed by your very existence. He feels a rise in his chest, something tingling. Thoughts twist and turn together into a mess of obsessions. Something wicked comes over him as he watches you from a distance and it is unfortunate that his gaze has caught you because now they will never let go. Oh how he looks to you from afar, a place you cannot see him. Havik thinks all he wants from you, all that he can take. You are perfect, you are art and Havik will have you. First he must find out more and more about you, he needs everything, all of it. Then, when that sweet time arrives, he will come to you in the night and devour all that he is enthralled with

i cant help but make Havik's creepy, sorry yall

#mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat fanworks #mortal kombat headcanons #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #mk rain #mk shao kahn #general shao #shao kahn x reader #rain x reader #reiko #mk reiko #reiko x reader #quan chi x reader #quan chi #mk havik #havik #havik x reader

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letstrekintospace · 7 months

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Loki Season 2 Spoilers!

•

There is so much about Lokius to unpack here. What a special and heartbreaking episode for them both.

We start with Loki in desperation reaching out to Mobius for help. The person he trusts and looks for any time anything goes wrong. This person, however, doesn't recognize him. Mobius appears intimidating and as a threat. Loki's *only* hope appearing as a threat and a lost cause.

We then see Loki finally finding his own Mobius, and desperately clings to him with that hope that he can help him. His need for reassurance and care is so strong and Mobius answers that call beautifully with his tender touches and his core of sympathy. We see so many special touches on Loki's arm, and especially his back, that display just how much Loki trusts this human. He basks in this touch, never pushing away from it (except for the wall prune, but, you know what I mean).

We see this continue into the elevator scenes. Their sweet banter and care for one another is so evident. The effortless humor, the continued touches of reassurance, the blatant reassuring words they give each other.

Throughout the rest of the episode we're met with a continuation of Loki time slipping, yet looking for Mobius, and Mobius making saving Loki the priority. No matter what.

What really strikes me is saving Loki from time slipping. Mobius, without question and with wittiness, goes along with a possibility of dying in an attempt to save Loki. Loki, while hesitant, knows Mobius is doing it for him and putting his own life on the line, and follows suit.

Then we have the anxiety-inducing scenes of Loki helplessly looking for a way to prune himself, knowing Mobius could lose his life if he failed; he couldn't betray another one that he loves.

Then we have a combination of Mobius choosing death in hopes of giving Loki a chance, and Loki choosing pain in order to try and save Mobius.

In the end we have Loki saving Mobius (with quite a cute topple on the floor scene).

This episode really exceeded my expectations for these two. So many loving and intense moments and I can't wait to see how their relationship grows.

#loki #loki marvel #loki season 2 #lokius #mobius #loki series #loki laufeyson #tva

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prythianpages · 3 months

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Lay All Your Love On Me | Bonus

summary: After failing to recognize the mating bond, the Cauldron sends another sign. One that, yet again, you and Cassian are blind to.

warnings: mentions of violence/abuse (reader losing her ability to fly & then taking out her revenge); implied smut at the end

a/n: I'm glad everyone enjoyed this story! This is like a summary/background of reader & Cas that mentions when they met, fell in love and when the bond snapped for each of them. I bolded & italicized those parts.

Cassian knew you would become someone special to him the moment his eyes met yours.

In the aftermath of war, Prythian lay in ruins, a realm brimming with tension, particularly between the Spring and Night Courts. With the ascension of two young and unprepared high lords, Rhysand of the Night Court and Tamlin of the Spring Court, the atmosphere was fraught with chaos and death.

Rhysand’s first task as high lord was to ease the tension among the Illyrians. They lost many of their soldiers in the war. He decided to use this opportunity to introduce the idea of banning the wing clipping of females and training them to become warriors instead to increase their numbers. He knew the great opposition he would face. Not even the camp lords had agreed with his proposition when he first introduced the idea to them in private. That didn’t stop Rhysand though.

The crowd immediately burst into chaos, whispers and shouts in protest. Rhysand shut it down, power emanating from him in dark waves and moving the mountains. Yet, one of the camp lords dared to crudely question him, stepping out from among the crowd with flared wings.

"No female here will want to train, and I highly doubt any female could become half the warrior of any male in this camp."

Cassian’s jaw had tensed and Azriel’s fist clenched at his sides. From where he stood, Cassian could see Rhysand’s gaze darken, icy rage pooling within his violet eyes at the male but he caught the way it softened ever so slightly at the sound of another voice.

“I will train.”

Cassian turned his gaze back to the crowd and his eyes widened at the sight. He heard Rhysand ask for your family name and he recognized it. Your father had died in the war and your brother was left heavily injured. He couldn’t hear much past that, the world coming to silence around him when your gaze met his.

There you stood, head held high and shoulders squared. Your wings, tucked behind you, trembled every so slightly yet there was a fiery determination in your eyes. A testament to your bravery. One he immediately admired.

In the span of the following year, Cassian assumed the role of your mentor, taking you under his wing. His training methods were often unforgiving and ruthless, relentless in their pursuit of excellence. Azriel, on occasion, would step in, offering a gentler touch and much needed respite to your instruction. Your ability to adapt and learn quickly was remarkable, your skills surpassing all of Cassian’s expectations. You often reminded Cassian of himself when he was younger.

Despite the disdain from the males in your camp who viewed your unconventional training as the utmost betrayal of tradition, you remained resolute. Their bullying and abuse seemed to be never-ending but so was your determination. The fire Cassian first witnessed the day he laid eyes on you, the very one he had grown fond of during your training sessions, still blazed brightly–like a flame that refused to be extinguished.

Somewhere along the line, Cassian softened in his methods, your training lasted longer and your time spent with him went beyond the training grounds. He took you to Velaris, grateful that your wings had been left untouched so you could fly beside him, where he introduced you to various new foods and shops. His smiles grew warmer, tone lighter and unbeknownst to him, you crept further into his heart.

After five years of rigorous one-on-one training, you not only matched but exceeded the proficiency of your male counterparts. When Cassian assigned another upcoming warrior to spar with you, you had emerged victorious. He’d never forget that moment–the way your eyes had widened in pleasant surprise and immediately had searched for his. When your eyes met, the radiant smile you bestowed upon him lit up the entirety of the training grounds. In that heartbeat, he felt a warmth kindle in his chest that was more than just pride.

Your triumph against one of Windhaven’s promising great warriors was quick to reach the ears of the camp and though you were placed under the High Lord’s protection, some of the males wanted to teach you a lesson.

Cassian was away on a mission when it happened. He remembered waking up that day with a strange unease that he was unable to settle. When that unease grew, it pressed heavily upon his chest like a weight he could not lift. A sudden snap within him triggered a cascade of emotions—panic, fear, and an indescribable pain. Without knowing or questioning, an ominous certainty engulfed him. It was coming from you and something was terribly wrong.

When he landed in Windhaven, he found you laying in a pool of your own blood. Fear gripped him at the sight. Bruises, cuts, and gross wounds littered your body and your wings–gods, your wings were torn so harshly…

His siphons gleamed with an intense light, and his fists clenched at his sides but a strangled whimper escaped from you. A heart wrenching sound that sent him to his knees in an instant. Cassian approached with utmost care, his heart sinking as he witnessed your flinch away from his touch. "It's okay, it's me. Cas," he reassured, attempting to reach out once more. This time, you didn't resist.

With gentle precision, he shifted your body, cradling you in his arms, his attention focused on the delicate task of handling your injured wings. Your eyes remained shut, your face etched with pain, tears streaming relentlessly down your cheeks.

"I didn’t see them coming. Cas, they–they–I can’t feel my wings."

"I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. From now on, I've got you. I always will."

And he meant it.

He took you to Velaris, screaming at Rhysand and Azriel to get Madja. Guilt ate him from the inside because he was foolish for not protecting you more. If you had just stayed with him instead of insisting you stay with your brother, if he had put more thought before pushing you to spar with that male, if he hadn’t been out on a long mission–so many if’s. But regardless of the many ifs, you still lay there in his arms broken.

As Madja rushed to heal you, he refused to part ways with you. He held you down while you screamed and writhed in pain, whispered soothing words into your ears. She was able to restore some of your damaged nerves but not enough for you to be able to fly again. Nothing prepared him for when your eyes finally opened days later. When they met his eyes, his heart sank to his stomach at the loss of warmth in your gaze. The once vibrant fire in your eyes was dim, its flickering flame on the verge of going out.

They broke you and he wanted nothing more than to break them but he realized this was not his battle. Azriel found the group of males responsible for drugging and attacking you. Rhysand gave you permission to carry out their punishments however you wished to. Cassian was by your side when you returned to Windhaven after weeks of healing and building up your strength for that very moment.

As you landed, his hand found yours, offering you a comforting squeeze. I’ve got you, he silently promised. You nodded your head and took a deep breath. There were rumors that you were dead so your return had shocked many. Cassian caught the awe and admiration in some of the female’s eyes as they looked up at you and he took delight in the fear that flashed in some of the males’s eyes.

Cassian felt every emotion coursing through you that day but he was too concerned over you to question why. You hunted the four males one by one. You didn’t kill them, though. They did not deserve that mercy. Instead, you slashed and cut through their wings, maiming them and rendering them useless as they had done to yours. “Please, just kill me,” the last male had begged. “It was your brother. He paid us to do this. I was only doing what I was told.”

The haunting revelation of your brother being behind all your pain and misery had your breath hitching in your throat. You sought out your brother next. Your brother was never kind but cruel was not a word you would use to describe him. Not until he betrayed you, anyway. Cassian was aware of your brother’s envy toward you from the stories you’d tell him. Apparently, your brother wasn’t fond of your father letting you skip the clipping ritual of your wings when you had first bled and your training had only angered him further. Still, you never thought he’d be the one behind your attack.

It was as if your brother was waiting for you when Cassian and you found him in your small home. He didn’t blink at the blood drenching your leathers and you spared him no mercy as you did the same to him. You didn’t stop at his wings. You kicked and punched, using all your strength to shatter him as the males had done to you, until he was left laying in a pool of his own blood, barely breathing. Until Cassian pulled you away, not wanting you to bear the burden of killing your own blood.

“Let’s go home,” he had told you and he felt as the words violently shook through the very core of your being.

Because Windhaven was no longer your home. Cassian was. As he pulled you into the haven of his arms, the revelation sent shivers down your spine and gave rise to a newfound warmth in your heart.

News of your revenge shook through the camp of Windhaven. The men who had hurt you, including your brother, took their own lives within the span of a year. They could not bear the thought of living without their wings. You had stripped them of their very being. The same way they did to you and all the other females before you.

Yet, there was no relief when Cassian reported their deaths to you. He was hesitant in telling you, already anticipating the reaction it’d stir from you. It nearly crushed you all over again. Because it was all unfair. The way they no longer had to live through the consequences of their actions. All while you still had to live, carrying the burden of all of theirs as the memories of what they did continued to haunt you.

Cassian was there for you, guiding you through your hysteria. “Stay with me, y/n. Breathe with me. Don’t let them win. Keep fighting. I promise you it will be worth it.”

And true to his promise, it was worth it. You only grew stronger from it, your days gradually growing brighter and brighter.

Cassian became your lifeline. Your spark. The one who brought life back into your eyes. You two are inseparable. Training, drinking and going on missions together. It’s during one mission when you're attacked by small puffball faeries that gives rise to your nickname. Bibble. Though the tiny creatures are fur balls of blue and purple with wide wicked eyes, it’s their feisty yet adorable attitude that reminds him of you.

The two of you have a few little love affairs here and there but they never last long and Cassian would never admit to you all the times he’s purposely sabotaged them. Unaware that you had done the same. The fine line of friendship and something else begins to blur between you two as teasing becomes flirting, gazes drift lower, touches linger longer than necessary and thoughts drift to more deviously sinful ones.

It’s nearing the decade of your friendship when Cassian finally convinces you to attend Starfall. You were never fond of extravagant parties and up until then, had always come up with an excuse every year as to why you couldn’t go. When your excuse this year is because you don’t have a dress, he asks Mor to take you shopping.

Cassian had only known you in your leathers, simple dresses, and casual loungewear. He always found you beautiful, especially in your leathers. The way they hugged your every curve nearly had him drooling every time. But the moment he saw you adorned in a sparkling ball gown, a vision crafted with Mor's expertise, you were absolutely breathtaking. A Goddess he wanted to create shrines for, and yearned to worship on his knees.

When your eyes met, it felt like discovering the final missing piece to an intricate puzzle, a puzzle that held the essence of your connection. It brought forth a fluttering feeling deep within your chests, leaving Cassian momentarily speechless. The only words he managed to utter were a feeble "you look different," failing to encapsulate the overwhelming beauty that had left him awestruck.

The words sparked a warmth that surged to your cheeks, as though he had recited the most enchanting verses of a romantic poem. Yet, neither of you became aware of the reminder of the rare blessing the Cauldron bestowed upon you.

Azriel’s shadows were the first to pick up on the shift in your scents, excitedly reporting the change to their master. However, despite the unmistakable scent of your mating bond, Azriel observed no overt changes in the dynamic between you and Cassian. You still regarded each other as friends, despite your burning feelings for one another.

In an attempt to unravel the mystery, Azriel cautiously broached the topic with Cassian, inadvertently stumbling into a bargain, where he swore to guard the secret of Cassian's love for you. He then realized three things. One, that though his shadows had just picked up on the bond, it was not new. It had been there for a while. Two, neither of you had a clue over said bond. Three, a loophole in his bargain. He had promised not to tell you about Cassian’s feelings for you. So he told everyone but you.

The golden thread, unbeknownst to both you and Cassian, continued to weave its intricate pattern between your souls. Starfall acted as the catalyst that set alight the simmering cauldron of emotions that had been quietly kindling within. The pot, brimming with the heat of your burgeoning affection for one another, now stood precariously on the edge. It was only a matter of time before the intensity of those emotions would tip the pot over.

It was only after a visit to the Summer Court that led to jealousy and the destruction of a building, that the pot finally tipped over. Though that led to a passionate night together and a confession the next morning, you and Cassian still remained unaware of your bond. A notion that nearly drove Rhysand and Azriel crazy but luckily for them, your ignorance doesn’t last much longer.

A couple of weeks into your newly established relationship with Cassian, you find yourself waking up in your apartment. After a night of drinking and dancing at Rita’s, you and Cassian had been too tired to make your way back to the House of Wind or the townhouse. With a yawn, you crawl out of bed and freshen up. Heading toward your kitchen, you hope that there’s something edible to make.

You’re grossed out by the expired milk in your fridge but relieved to find eggs and bacon. That will have to do, you think to yourself with a sigh, missing the House of Wind. The sentient house has definitely spoiled you all these years. You can’t even remember the last time you had to make something for yourself.

As you begin to plate the food, strong arms wrap around you from behind. Your wings are pressed against Cassian’s hard chest and your breath hitches at the sensation, body sinking further into his welcoming warmth. His breath tickles your ear.

“Come back to bed.”

“I made breakfast.”

“I want something sweeter.” His arm tightens around you while the other travels lower. You somehow manage to turn before he could reach his destination, revealing the teasing grin on your lips as you look up at him. He pouts in response, kneading the soft flesh of your ass instead.

You recognize the look on his face so when he leans in, you’re shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth to keep him occupied with something else.

“After.”

Cassian lets out a hum, holding your gaze as he munches on the crispy meat. Deciding to tease him further, well aware of the consequences that would follow later, you rise up to lean in and bite at the end of the bacon hanging from his mouth. His pupils flare, darkening his gaze with a hunger you know can not be satiated with food and heat pools down to your stomach.

A surge of overwhelming warmth courses through every fiber of your being, and your eyes widen in response. It draws you closer to Cassian, akin to a golden thread, and there’s something humming madly in your chest the closer you’re pulled. You know he can feel it too. The sensation is not entirely new to either of you. You’ve felt this–the mad fluttering in your chest for one another–for years.

Yet, in this moment, it’s as if a veil has been lifted from your eyes. The significance of it takes on an entirely novel meaning for you, revealing a secret you and Cassian were unaware of keeping.

“Now,” he nearly growls at you and you immediately give in. “I want my mate.”

Mate. The word echoes through the depths of your soul. It's a revelation that leaves you questioning when exactly the delicate strands of your bond had woven themselves so intricately between you and Cassian. Because despite the newfound awareness, everything still feels achingly familiar. The same way it did when you became aware of your feelings for him.

As he set you ablaze with his hot kisses, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore when the bond had snapped. You love him wholeheartedly and you’d choose him in every lifetime. There’s a tug in your chest that you now recognize as Cassian, echoing your thoughts. The bond is but an outgrowth of a love that was already deeply rooted.

A love that was always meant to be.

a/n: when writing this, I imagined the bond to snap for them at different times but they're too focused on hiding their love for one another to notice. So the Cauldron decided to work its magic again at Starfall. I couldn't help myself with this meme lol.

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