#thinking about the three of them in the nest does things to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

conchcronch · 2 months ago

Text

I Know…

Sanji x Reader

Summary: You’re the newest crew member and the girls are desperate to learn more about you during a tipsy night in. The last thing you want to discuss is your sex life, or lack there of, leaving you to flee into the galley under the gauze of refilling the drinks. But you never end up making it back to the girls’ room.

WC: 7041

A/N: This is the first thing I’ve written in a hot minute, so it may be rather rough. The summary is shit, that’s just because there’s not a lot of plot there, if you get what I mean.

“So hold on, let me get this straight,” You sipped the drink Sanji had brought you what felt like hours ago, even though all that was left was the water from the melting ice, you needed something to do to avoid looking at the two girls in front of you. ”No one has ever gone down on you?” Nami spoke slowly as though she was carefully choosing her words when in reality the alcohol was getting to her, Robin was swirling her drink leaning back on her hand.

“Is it that weird?” The night had started with a few drinks with the girls which Sanji happily brought you until the three of you went up into your shared bedroom, sitting on the floor talking about what Nami claimed was ‘girl stuff’ but in reality seemed to revolve exclusively around your sex life.

“I mean yeah!” You looked at Robin, hoping she would side with you, but you could tell even before her mouth opened by her pursed lips that that would not be the case.

“I think it says more about the partners you’ve been with then it does you.” She said, reassuring a concern you hadn’t even realized you had.

”Oh yeah, it has nothing to do with you, just seems like the guys you’ve been with have been shit.”

“Do guys usually just like…do it?” You wished you had more alcohol in your system, this conversation taking a way different turn then you had originally expected and you hadn’t really been prepared for this.

“Women do.” Nami grinned, leaning back on her hands behind her, stretching her legs out in front.

“That doesn’t really help me.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“A good partner will.” Robin spoke up, tucking her legs under her.

“I’ve brought it up, in the past.” You begin picking at your nails, suddenly feeling very aware of your surroundings. “He looked at me like I had three heads.”

“Please tell me you didn’t let him fuck you after that.” Nami groaned. The silence that stretched across the three of you was answer enough.

”I’m gonna’ go get us some more drinks, and then maybe we can talk about something that doesn’t have to do with my sex life.” You stood up, grabbing their glasses before leaving and started off towards the kitchen. Popping outside for the brief few seconds before entering the galley, you hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. The sun was long gone, the only light on on the deck was beaming down from the crow’s nest where you were sure Zoro was.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to see Sanji still in the kitchen, standing at the counter while he idly flipped through his tattered recipe book, looking up at you the second you came down the ladder. “Mon chou, I didn’t think you were still awake.” He came around, helping you with the three glasses that were now all in one hand so you could climb down.

“Oh yea, we’re just yapping.” he put the glasses in the sink, opening the cupboard to pull out three fresh ones. “Oh Sanji, I can just make them quick, they don’t have to be anything special.”

”Nonsense, a beauty like you has to have a drink that’s just as beautiful.” You leaned against the counter, watching him pull fresh fruit from the fridge. ”So what were you ladies chatting about?”

“Unfortunately, all the topics seem to be revolving around me lately.” He smiled softly as he cut a piece of strawberry into a surprisingly perfect heart.

“Sounds like a conversation I wish I were part of.”

”Believe you me, you don’t want to be. I wish I weren’t.” A comfortable silence stretched on between the two of you as he prepared the first of the three drinks with all the precision and care in the world. ”So, are you still settling in okay?” You had been part of the crew for little over six months, the everyday things had become a comfortable habit, but it was things like being at sea for so long and not really having your own space that you were still struggling with.

“For the most part I guess, I’m still not used to the long stints at sea though.” He nodded, pausing his preparation to turn and look at you for a moment.

”They get easier.”

“I just wish I had my own space sometimes.” He nodded. “I hope that doesn’t sound selfish, I’m just not used to being around people 100% of the time.” He added a pineapple that was sliced into a star to the rim of the glass before pulling the tea towel that had been draped over his shoulder off, rubbing it between his hands before putting it on the counter next to the two empty glasses, turning to you with a soft expression. There was no nosebleed, no hearts in his eyes, just a genuine member of your crew.

“I completely understand,” He paused, stepping closer. “I know it’s not the same but if you’d ever like some quiet time, no one besides myself is ever really in here between meals.”

“It wouldn’t bother you if I were in here?” He reached a hand out, his finger moving a piece of hair that had slipped from behind your ear, tucking it back into place. The tip of his finger gliding against your cheekbone.

“Bother me?” He smiled, a small laugh accompanying it “I would love to have you here. I always work better in the presence of a beautiful woman.” You were searching for something to say, even so much as a thank you seemed so far from your lips. You had never spent much time alone with the chef, let alone been this close to him. The blue of his one uncovered eye was so much deeper then you’d ever noticed, flecks of green dotting his iris. A dusting of the faintest freckles graced his cheeks and over his nose. You hadn’t realized he had moved closer until you felt his chest against your breast when you inhaled, alerting you to the fact you hadn’t spoken in what could possibly have been quite a while. Your eyes widened slightly as you refocused away from the smallest details of his face to his expression overall.

“Will you-“ Your voice seemed as loud as some of Luffy’s shouts, breaking the quiet moment of what you mentally refused to refer to as intimacy. He pulled his face away, stepping back on the ball of his foot to give you space enough to slip from between him and the counter, if you so chose. “Will you have a drink with me?”

“Who am I to deny a request from such an enchanting woman.” He lingered a breath longer, as though there were words dangling from the tip of his tongue but didn’t quite make it to his lips before he stepped entirely out of your bubble. Moving back over to where he had abandoned the one near completed drink, reaching up to the cabinet above to pull a wine glass down for himself and put away the other two glasses that were clearly not getting used.

”Could you…Could you make mine a bit stronger than before?” You hadn’t realized your face was already warm until it started to burn, suddenly you felt very vulnerable as he smirked at you.

“Think you can handle something stronger?” He chided, pouring a few additional shots of the dark rum into your elongated highball glass, a variety of fruit already cut into different shapes hung off the rim or were skewered in the glass.

“I guess we’ll have to find out, now won’t we?” He finished your drink before opening a bottle of wine he selected for himself, pouring a glass before clearing the small distance between you two to give you your drink. You clinked your glass to his before taking a sip, despite the alcohol you had watched him pour, you wouldn’t have known. The notes of spice from the dark rum, expertly sandwiched between vanilla coconut flavours.

“You don’t have to stay with me, if the girls are waiting for you.” He said before sipping at the deep maroon liquid. His gaze never leaves you, watching as you shake your head before taking another long sip of your drink.

“Truthfully, I don’t really want to be the topic of their conversation anymore.”

“You have to remember, we’ve all been together for a long time. We already know everything about each other, you’re new. They just want to get as close to you as the rest of us are to each other.” You nodded, leaning heavier against the counter, moving so you have both arms propping you up as you leaned over, your back arching in a way that was not missed by the blonde.

“I just feel like, compared to Nami and Robin, I’m so…I don’t know, lame I guess? Boring?” You pulled the skewer from your drink, guiding an alcohol soaked pineapple chunk off of it with your teeth. ”They’re both drop dead, unreal, honestly, they’re probably most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life. And then I’m just over here like their loser little sister or something.” It wasn’t until you felt a drop of juice from the fruit you were tugging off the skewer slip down your chin that you realized you had been rambling. “S-sorry…I guess the drinks are hitting me harder than I expected, I’m getting really whiny.” You looked up at Sanji for the first time since shifting positions, your lips sticky with pineapple juice.

“Everything you said about yourself,” He had put his mostly full wine glass on the counter at some point, his expression having changed, tensed, the same look you had seen him take before a battle. “Every single word out of your mouth was wrong.” You could feel your cheeks burning but you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol that was making your thighs jelly or if it was because of him. “Do you honestly think any of that is true?” You dropped your face, hoping the answer to his question was somewhere on the polished white countertop.

“I mean, I guess yeah.” You hadn’t noticed he moved until you felt a hand gently pull your chin to look at him. He was leaning down, your nose almost brushing his.

“You’re so completely wrong.” The words barely made it out of his mouth before you closed the very small distance between your lips and his. There was a small, muffled sound of surprise but it was more so at the force of the kiss rather then the kiss itself. When he stood at full height you had to move onto your toes to keep the kiss going, your hands moving to the back of his neck as though you thought he was going to pull away completely. But when you felt his hands wrapping around your waist, tugging you even closer to him you knew you needed more.

Whether it was the alcohol in your blood that was convincing you of your want, or the very long dry spell you had been going through since joining the crew your body was reacting in all the right ways. His hands on your lower back shifted, coming forward and holding onto your sides, very gently pushing you off your toes and effectively ending the kiss, much to your disappointment.

Your eyes were wide, doe-ish as he searched your expression for something, but your brain was too foggy to piece together what he could be searching for. When he didn’t speak or move you felt a pit in your stomach open, a wave of self doubt washing over you. “Fuck” The sharp word tumbled from your mouth before you could stop it. “I-I shouldn’t have…fuck” You could feel tears well in your eyes, the realization of what you just did washing over you like a bucket of cold water “You were just being nice…and I made it weird!” You stepped backwards as you pushed a hand through your hair, tugging at the strands as you turned around, trying to make a beeline for anywhere that wasn’t here.

He caught you by the waist before you could get too far, the alcohol making your coordination even worse than it normally was. “Mon chou, please listen to me.” He turned you around so you were facing him, his hand quick to wipe away the tear that had fallen. He looked like he was about to speak but thought his actions in this situation would outshine any words he chose. The weight of his lips against yours was enough to drag a muffled sound of surprise from the back of your throat. His lips moving with more direction then they had moments ago, his tongue moving along your lower lip begging for you to let him inside. And who were you to deny him?

He held you tightly against him, your hands bunching the front of his blazer in them as you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slide along your own. You couldn’t help the moan that slipped out when you felt his hands clutch the back of your shirt. You could have stayed like this for hours, your eyes opening slightly every so often to see how relaxed he looked, how much enjoyment he was taking from this. That is, until you shifted, putting more of your weight onto him, you felt how much he was enjoying this.

Much to your disappointment you felt him squirm, trying to control his hips against your lower stomach. When you parted, you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your lips. “You just caught me by surprise, ma chérie.”

“I surprised myself.” You wanted to be closer to him, you wanted to feel him against you, there were too many layers separating you. “Do you…” Sanji sniffled, clearly trying to start the preemptive nose bleed “I actually don’t know where we could go.” He leaned forward, seemingly going in for another kiss but dodging your lips at the last second before landing on your neck.

“My my,” You could feel him smile against your neck, between quick pecks he was pressing to your pulse point. “Were you about to invite me up to your bedroom, mon chou?”

“Yes” The word came out as a long sigh fled your lips. He trailed kisses up to your ear, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke.

“But where will we go?” What was meant as a frustrated groan ended up sounding more wanton than you had intended. His hands moved from your waist up to your hair, running his fingers against your scalp as he pulled the strands up into a makeshift ponytail, giving him unfenneled access to your neck, his kisses trailing back down towards your shoulder. You naturally tipped your head, getting lost in the way his kisses began to linger.

“I-“ You furrowed your brows in attempted thought, opening your eyes that you hadn’t realized you had closed. “I don’t know.” If you were capable of any more thought, you would have tried to recall a time you had gotten so turned on by such a simple act, but considering even piecing together that three word sentence was as difficult as it was, you would have to try to answer your internal question at a later date. ”Sanji” You felt his one hand that still remained on your waist tighten at his name on your tongue. He pulled away from where he was sucking what you could only assume was a decently dark hickey in the dip above your clavicle, his bangs had moved so for the first time since you joined, you saw both of his sapphire eyes staring back at you. “I can’t take this much longer.” You tried your best to convey what you wanted through your expression, but when he didn’t immediately blurt out the perfect, private room that no one on the crew knew about (that you knew didn’t exist) you reached forward to paw at his tented pants hoping to quicken his decision making. His whole body stiffened, a quiet ah slipped from his lips as his eyes fell shut. “Please Sanji.”

His mind was racing as quickly as it could through the fog of lust, which was only made more difficult by the hefty glass of wine he had finished before you had even entered the galley.Your hand squeezed him through his pants, the heel of your palm pressing into where his head wept sticky precum. He forced his eyes open after allowing himself a few moments to enjoy the attention, looking up at the clock. Almost midnight, late enough that the bulk of the crew was already asleep, and early enough that Luffy wouldn’t be waking up to try and sneak a late night snack. The only person who they risked running into was Zoro, who had a terrible habit of coming into the kitchen for a late night snack midway through night watch. It wasn’t ideal, but he could make this work.

Sanji let your hair fall back over your shoulders and down your back, opting instead to guide the hand that was slowly beginning to jerk him off through his pants as he turned around and started walking towards the long couch that ran along the wall near the table they all ate at. “It’s not ideal, next time we’ll have to find a bed. But if you don’t mind my love, I think this could work.” A thrill ran through your body as though you were shocked, the tingles going right to your cunt at the idea of being in such a public and commonly used spot. “If you’re comfortable with it.” He added when you didn’t sit down immediately, still standing at his side, hand in hand.

“N-no it’s…fuck, it’s good.” You sat down, bringing his hand with you, noticing the uncertain expression on his face. “I like it…” You squeezed your thighs together, clocking the way his eyes darted down and watched, the true meaning behind your words worming their way into his brain. You began to squirm under his prolonged glance, unsure of where or how he wanted you, but he made no efforts to say anything. “D-do you want me to like, lay down or-“ He blinked a few times, his eyes slowly making their way up to your face, his free hand wiping the blood that was beginning to gather and drip. While your fingers were still intertwined, he moved in front of you, crouching down.

“May I?” You stared blankly at him, his free hand moving to your knee, gently guiding them apart to get his point across.

“Wait what?” Your face began to burn, as he shifted his weight so he was kneeling, your knees falling apart so he could see your plain cotton panties that you would have silently been cursing it you weren’t trying to wrap your head around all the other things he could be offering other than what you thought he may be offering. “Y-you don’t have to! I-I mean, I want you to but you don’t have to! But if you want to I want to. But you don’t have to.” The words were falling out of your mouth faster than you could control. His brow furrowed as he stared at you before you covered your face with your hands. “Fuck this is so embarrassing” you hadn’t intended for that sentance to come out, muffled by your palms but not enough for the cook to not hear them.

You felt his hands move from your knees, the warmth coming from his body disappearing. You pulled your knees up to your chest, wondering if you thought about it hard enough if you could sink into the green fabric of the couch.

But before you could will the matter to part and absorb you, you felt warm hands gently pry your hands away from your face. “My love” his tone was gentle, akin to the voice you would use when trying to soothe an upset child.

“I’m sorry” the words burst from your mouth as if you had been trying to physically withhold them, prompting a warm smile to spread across his lips.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” When he felt confident that you weren’t going to cover your face again, he released your hand and opting instead to guide a stray strand of hair behind your ear again. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want.” He was standing awkwardly to the side of the couch, keeping your chin in his grasp despite not really needing to.

“I do want it.” He nodded “but I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” He leaned forward, having to brace himself on the back of the couch so he could press his lips to yours. On instinct your hands came up to his neck, your legs relaxing while you tried to take as much as he would give you. When he pulled away you chased after him before accepting the kiss was over.

“I want to.”

“You do? Like actually?” He couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out.

“Is that so hard to believe?” He pressed one last kiss to your lips before resuming his place on his knees in front of you.

“No one has ever wanted to before.” He was parting your thighs when your confession slipped out, making his movements stutter.

“Never?!” He sounded almost offended. You shook your head. His hands slid up the outsides of your thighs, grabbing the sides of your shorts and tugging them down, lifting your hips to help him pull them down and off your legs. “Merde” he balled your sleep shorts up, your cunt bare for him to take in. “If you want me to stop,” he forced himself to look up away from your pussy and up to your face, waiting for you to nod. He grabbed behind your knees, tugging you down the seat until your cunt parted and you were within tasting distance.

He couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out at the sight of your glistening folds, every part of your cunt was on display for him. He guided one of your legs over his shoulder before using his free hand to run over you, from the crest of your labia, over your clit until the tip of his finger could prod into your entrance. You expected him to push his finger in further, so when you felt his tongue lap greedily at your entrance your moan surprised even yourself.

His tongue pressed into your hole, moaning as he got more of your stick in his mouth, his thumb pressing into your clit to ensure it wasn’t neglected. You wanted to tip your head back but you were enamored by the way his head covered, the tickle of his golden locks against your lower belly and mound. When his eyes flicked up and met your gaze you both moaned in tandem.

He didn’t want to but he forced himself to part from your body, his chin was wet with your slick and his own saliva, his pupils were blown out as he stared up at you. “What do you need, Ma gâterie savoureuse?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, opening your mouth to speak just in time for him to pull his hands away from your clit and your entrance, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“M-more” was about the only intelligent thing you were able to force from your lips, watching as he smiled at you, pressing his lips to your inner thigh as a sort of reward.

“More of what, my love? What do you like most?” His warm breath puffed over your spread lips, your hips squirming in an attempt to get his attention.

“I- I’m not really sure…” The blonde clicked his tongue at you, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh, grinding the flesh between his front teeth.

“Do you like it when-“ he pulled away from your leg and slowly watched you as he pressed his longest finger into your slick entrance, drawing a shaky breath from your lips. He crooked his finger, rubbing against a spongy part of your crevice that you could rarely reach. He pressed a second finger inside, pushing harder against the section of your wall until you were grinding your hips to meet every thrust. “Or how about this?” He pulled his fingers out of you along with a long whine that you weren’t impressed with yourself for making. But very quickly you were trying to chase the orgasm that was beginning to fade as he replaced his fingers with his tongue, his eyes glued to you with every slurp of your pussy. You shook your head, bucking your hips up for any other sort of stimulation, his tongue not being enough for you. “So not that one?” He couldn’t stop the cheeky smile as he licked his lips, watching you slowly blink in an attempt to clear your brain enough to speak coherently.

“First was better” you said, swallowing hard.

“That’s good.” He praised, as he held your thigh tighter, forcing your body further down on the couch “How about this?” He was right back in your cunt, his lips wrapping around your clit as his fingers resumed this place inside you.

“Fuck” you breathed, your hands instinctually grabbing his hair and holding him exactly where you needed, as though you thought he was going to pull away. You felt him smile against you, changing from suckling at your clit to flicking his tongue over it, making your back arch almost painfully.

Your words were not your own, tumbling from your mouth before you could even realize it. A mix of curses, praise and non communicative words flowed with no restraint. With his free hand he guided your other leg over his shoulder, giving you the chance to tense your thighs, keeping him even more firmly in place.

Your body was burning, your entrance clenching around his digits as the white hot knot tightened to the point of ripping, your muscles contracting as you squeezed your legs, pinning him against your core as your orgasm crashed into you harder then you’d ever experienced. Wave after wave of pleasure rattled through you, egged on by his slowing tongue against your clit, his fingers gliding over your g spot slowly in time with your tapering ecstasy.

You hadn’t realized your hands were pressing his head into your folds until the fog of pleasure was beginning to lift, pulling your hands from his tresses as though they turned white hot. “S-shit sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-“ your voice faded into silence when you saw his expression. The lower portion of his face was wet with your slick and his spit, his pupils blown out and the hint of blood under his nose. His lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, hands still on your thighs but not moving them from his shoulders.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, I could die between these thighs and I would consider myself the luckiest man to ever sail these seas.” He greedily licked his lips, and you noticed the way his gaze darted down to your cunt which was still on display to him, and anyone who stepped foot in the galley. “Do you want more?” You nodded, but when he leaned back down his tongue barely making contact with your overstimulated clit your protest stopped him immediately.

“Ahh w-I-I meant more of you.” His expression was that of shock, when he looked back up at you.

“Of me?” Suddenly you felt very sheepish as you nodded, your heart beating so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“I want you.” The words were barely louder than a whisper, so quiet that Sanji almost missed them.

“How do you want me, mon chou?” You could see by the look in his eyes that he wanted to hear you say it, he was getting off to the idea that you were asking for him.

“Sanji” you whined, wanting to cover your face with your hands knowing your cheeks were even more red than you thought was even possible, but you knew he’d be quick to stop you. He pressed sloppy kisses to your inner thighs as he guided them off of his shoulders, you knew they’d be a little shaky if you were to stand and likely you’d be feeling the strain in the morning. But all you could focus on was him.

He pushed himself to his feet, making quick work of his belt and fly but not taking his pants off, but rather pulling them open wide enough that you could see his boxers that were dampened with his seed. “S-Sanji did you-“ he avoided your gaze for the first time possibly since meeting him.

“Yeah…”

“Do you still want to?”

“Of course!” You were pleased, and honestly impressed he was hard again after having cum once already. His cock finally freed from the cotton restraint and swung out as he pushed his pants behind his sack. It was one of the hottest things you had ever seen, the tall blonde vision of beauty, disheveled but still mostly dressed with his long slender cock awaiting your next move.

You forced yourself to your feet, your shirt falling to cover your lower half as you wrapped your hand around Sanji’s cock, pleased to hear the startled ah that fell from his lips. You rocked up to your toes, your lips meeting his in a teasing kiss before you whispered against his lips “Mind if I’m on top?” He moaned at the question which you could only assume was his way of agreeing as your free hand pressed against his lower back, wanting him to take up your place on the couch.

He took up your spot on the couch, his legs naturally falling apart as his hands grabbed your hips, tugging you with him as he sat. As you were getting yourself situated on his lap, one hand bracing against his shoulder while the other guided his cock to press against your entrance, his hands slipping under your billowing shirt. His hands were warm as they slowly slid from your waist up along your sides until they could grip your breasts, drawing a simultaneous moan from both of you. “Seems unfair we can’t take more clothes off.” You leaned forward enough that you could press your lips to the corner of his mouth as he pulled your shirt up enough that he could suck a nipple into his mouth, breaking away to answer,

“Next time.” Before greedily sucking the bud as though he’d be able to gain sustenance from it, pulling a long moan from your lips as you sank down onto his cock, not stopping until you were fully sat on his lap. It had been a while since you had had more than your own fingers inside of you, so the stretch of his cock meant you needed some time to get used to it. As you slowly felt the sting of your cunt fade, he released your tit from his lips, his hands pulling away from your chest to hold your face instead. He looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it before pulling you in for another one of his earth shattering kisses.

As your tongues moved together, little moans slipped out of your mouth as you were unknowingly grinding your hips against his. You were lost in a world of pleasure, not enough to get you to finish but it was such a wonderful feeling to rotate your hips in such a way that his cock would graze over you g spot while your clit was rutting against his pelvis. It wasn’t until his hands dropped from your cheeks to your hips, blunt nails digging in as he tried to hold you still. The action seemed out of place, none of your past partners had ever stopped you before, you pulled your lips away to find his eyes already open. “Shit you just feel too good.” It didn’t sound like the words were intentional.

“I can do all the work, o-or we can stop?” You were so unsure what the issue was but you were desperate to solve it, no matter the solution. You were seconds away from lifting yourself off of his cock before you felt him push you down harder.

“J-just don’t move f-for a secon-d.” His eyes dropped to your chest that was once again covered by your shirt, having fallen back into place the moment you started kissing. You froze, barely even allowing yourself to breathe as you sat motionless, still impaled by his cock, your clit all but throbbing from neglect. “Sorry.” He breathed, meeting your gaze again after what felt like minutes. “Sorry” he repeated a bit more firm, a hand coming up to the back of your neck to draw you in for another kiss, pressing kiss after kiss from your lips down to your chin, then your jawline, your neck, nipping just below your ear where he whispered “You had me right on the edge without even trying.” He nipped your ear lobe sending a shiver down and then back up your spine before he kept kissing down, getting progressively sloppier but stopping at the neck of your t-shirt that was serving as a roadblock.

His hands left your hips, gliding over your skin and around until he could grab the curve of your ass, guiding you up his cock until just the head remained inside. “Feeling okay?” You nodded, desperate to feel every inch press inside of you, but the hands on your ass were keeping you from dropping down the way you craved. Your gaze locked with his glacier blue eyes watching your every facial feature to check for any signs of uncertainty. But of course, there were none, but he still didn’t release you from his hold, the corners of his lips turning up when you started squirming out of desperation.

“F-fuck c-come on.” You tried to groan but it just came out whiny, your nails dug into the back of his neck. He appeared to take pity on you, but actually he was just as desperate for you as you were him. He shifted his hold from the curve of your ass to your hips, allowing you to sink onto him at your own pace. A long moan pushed from the back of your throat as you felt every inch of him push between your gummy walls, until you could rest your forehead on his shoulder as you sat flush against him. You drew up onto your knees quicker this time, becoming obsessed with the way his cock dragged through your body, his grip tightening as your speed increased until the galley was filled with the sound of slick slapping and your intermingled moans.

His lips were all over you, moving from your neck to your lips and anywhere else he could reach, but you so desperately wanted to feel them on your chest again, the shirt irritated you far more then you could have ever expected. Finally, you decided to throw caution to the wind, sitting straight up, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it on the couch, your hips never once missing a beat. The way his eyes took you in was enough to make your cunt tighten around him, he drank your bare body in as though it was the first sip of water after days lost in the desert. His hands quickly abandoned your hips opting instead to grab your breasts, kneading the fat in his hands as he caught your lips again. You barely even noticed one of your breasts was free from his grasp until you felt his thumb press against your clit, your body burning red hot as your hips stuttered. You broke the kiss with the intention of telling him to stay exactly like that but the only thing that came from your lips was a slew of yes.

He was smart enough to know what to do, drawing your nipple back into his mouth while refusing to move his digit from the apex of your folds, moving it in even circles as you set the pace again. You fucked yourself on him, knowing your volume was getting out of control but not having the ability to change it. “Sanji” You tried, desperately hoping he could understand what you meant but were unable to actually say. And he, of course, did. But he couldn’t ignore his own impending finish that was approaching at an alarming rate.

“M-my love, merde I’m right there.” Your nipple slipped from his mouth, his tone was tight, you could tell his teeth were grit and had his nails been any longer you’re sure they would have pressed crescents into your hip. You leaned over, pressing your forehead to his while you put all your remaining brain cells to work trying to put together your two word sentence.

“Do it.” You felt his thumb press harder into your clit, his movements just as firm but somehow the movements were tighter, shoving you over the edge into the expanse of your orgasm. It felt like your cunt expanded, the pleasure filling every crevice of your body as you arched an amount that would be painful had it been in any other situation. You sat fully on him, feeling how he forced your walls apart, his heat white hot as you felt a warmth flood through you, giving you an awareness of your body you had never experienced before.

His jaw clenched harder than you had ever seen it, even during the most heated debates with his least favourite swordsman, he had wanted to keep his eyes open to watch you ride the wave of your climax, but with every pump of his seed they pinched tighter. You felt every pulse of his cock, each one getting a bit weaker until all that was left was Sanji whining weakly. But even when he was quiet, his head lolled against the back of the couch as his breathing seemed almost impossible to catch, you didn’t want to move off of him. Opting instead to lean forward and resting your head on his shoulder, getting only a small whine from the blonde in response to you accidentally moving your hips slightly.

You’re not sure how long you sat like that, but eventually Sanji was the first to try to sit up. One hand coming to your back making sure you didn’t tip backwards, the other resting on your hip to avoid you unexpectedly shifting. He pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder, lulling you from the edges of sleep back to the waking world. “Ji” was all you could manage, your throat scratchy from all the noise you had been making.

“Come on my love, if we don’t get you cleaned up and dressed soon, we’ll be interrupted by the shitty swordsman looking for a late night snack.” You slowly sat up, leaning back against his hold, your hips shifting enough that you could feel the stickiness that would soon be spilling down the insides of your thighs. He saw how you crinkle your nose at the feeling, reaching over and grabbing your shirt, helping you put it back on with slow, gentle touches. He brought both hands to your back, scooting his body close to the edge of the couch until you could feel your foot touch the cold wood of the floor. “Take it slow, I’ve got you.” And you did just that, slowly shifting your weight off the couch and onto your feet that were fully pins and needles at this point, lifting yourself off his cock drawing a low moan from the blonde which continued when he saw the drips of milky white that fell from you onto the black of his slacks.

“Shit, sorry!” You stepped away, squeezing your thighs together on instinct, immediately feeling the tops become sticky with his seed.

“Fuck” He breathed, his eyes moving from his pants to you in front of him, his tone was the same as it had been when he first tasted you. “Show me.” You furrowed your brow at him but felt the throb of your exhausted cunt. “I wanna’ see the mess we made.” When you didn’t move, he tugged on your wrist, standing up and guiding you into his seat for the third time that evening. He wasted no time spreading your thighs and bringing your legs up, the angle compressing your lower half so he could watch as a large dollop of his cum was forced from your entrance, electing a long moan from him.

“What’re yo-Sanji!” Your mouth was on your entrance, his tongue pressing into you.

“Please my love, I just want to clean you up.” He didn’t wait for a response before delving back in, being sure to avoid any contact with your surely sore clit. He tried to avoid lingering, keeping his mind to the task of cleaning you up instead of getting lost in your taste.

“W-we were just talking ‘bout this.” You tried when he was finally leaning back on his haunches, licking his lips. “Me and the girls.” He watched you, wanting to coax another orgasm from you but forcing himself to resist. “Not about you specifically. But like- about how no one- no man- has ever gone down on me…y’know.” You watched as the corners of his lips pulled up before he stood up, shoving his semi hard cock back into his slacks before extending a hand to you, pulling you up and into him, capturing your lips in a kiss. You could taste yourself and his seed on his tongue, but before you could enjoy it he pulled back just enough to say “I know.”

#ao3 author #ao3 #one piece smut #one piece #sanji smut #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x you #op sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n

691 notes · View notes

insomniac-dot-ink · 5 months ago

Text

The Angel Wire

No one knows what to do with the angel tangled in the power lines. The poor thing’s body was wrapped around and around the sparking wires. A twisted-up ball of heavenly light. The face was obscured by a bent halo—a golden glow that sometimes oscillates like bad television signal. The wings float loosely in the air, all twelve feet of silken feathers, ragged and torn at the ends.

A storm had felled the trees and the poles and anything taller than a chicken coup in one swoop. Anyone who dared cross the puddles and debris had to risk being electrocuted by the live wires or blinded by the angel’s weakly pulsing light. Cooing sounds emerged from the angel, sad little calls for distant ears.

The creature would periodically make a break for it too—wings going taut and rising in a flurry of trumpets and frantic flapping. The electrical wires held fast, twisting against the angel’s soft flesh and pushing back. It fell, it always fell, back into the nest of wires and would make those weak cooing noises. I was an ornithologist before all this town, town, town and couldn’t help but think, pigeon.

The chaplain went first. He got down to pray under the angel’s bent body, close as he dared and in the mud. Everyone knew he wasn’t but a few weeks off the drink and his hands still shook when he lifted up the cross. The nun, she was retired but we still called her that, caught the 921 bus to the next town that same day.

Some said she was going to the next town over to get a proper priest. Others said she had crossed herself and high-tailed it out of there. What bad luck it was going to be to have a dead angel in our town electrical wires.

All this debris and only the birds can get close enough to it, flapping around the angel's head and perching on its mighty back. They call to each other.

Davie, who I had once loved, offered to fetch his shotgun and put it out of its misery. The youngest one there, a girl named Clara, cried so hard she had to be walked back and forth down the lane three times. We opted to put “shooting a messenger of above” on the back burner. We gathered up wire cutters, holy books, rubber boots, and a good tree-cutting ax from the mess of our homes and piled them up. We'd wait a day or so at least, watching the angel and all silently hoping it would make it out on its own.

I wasn’t a praying woman anymore. My house was a testament to a lot of broken things before it was ever leveled by the storm. But I didn’t have any little ones to walk up and down the lane and my car had survived just fine and I owned the best pair of binoculars out of anyone. So, I kept vigil–it was the least I could do.

I sat and watched and sometimes cooed back when the angel let out long melancholy ooo's. The relief trucks were late if they were even coming and I drank in small sips from my third water jug. The chaplain came at sundown and he passed me a better drink from his flask. I wasn’t a praying woman anymore so I took a long sip and passed it back.

“Think it’ll make it out?” I asked, nodding at the angel, and the chaplain took a longer drink. I gave him a small smile and elbowed the man. “Glad you stayed, at least.”

He nodded again and began to pray, never taking his eyes off the wires up above.

The girl came when the day tucked behind the trees into full dark. She was a darting, quiet thing and I nearly missed her rustling through the grass.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” I told her tiny form at the edge of the puddles. She drew her knees up under a big sweater.

“I have to make sure he doesn’t try anything . . .” she said and I knew she was talking about Davie, who I could no longer love.

“Does your mama know you’re out here?”

She mumbles from inside her oversized hoodie, “I can’t let ‘em do it.”

I sighed. “He won’t, not with me here,” I said and waved her over. I made the little girl climb into my lap to stop her shivering and the chaplain gave us all a blanket to huddle under. The angel flapped those dirty wings and cooed.

“Can I see?”

I let the little girl use my binoculars to make out that bent halo and loose curls. She got fingerprints all over the lens and I tried to ignore it.

“I want to be a meteorologist one day,” Clara said, unprompted. “So I can warn people about stuff like this.”

I snorted. “And I want to be a poet.”

“Hush,” Markus says to me and then to the little girl, “I’m sure you’ll make a great weather lady one day, Clara.” The chaplain gave a punished smile and it made me want to make fun of him just enough to stop it. Clara frowned.

“Did you always want to be a chaplain?” she asked in return, a bit meanly, and the chaplain didn't answer.

I cleared my throat. “Do you think that’s what it was trying to do? Trying to warn us?” “Or maybe it was just unlucky,” Markus says, rubbing a hand down his long face.

I snorted. “A bad day at work.”

“Does god allow for bad luck?” asked the little girl and the question hung limp and loose like those wings.

“Why don’t we ask it?” I say, and we laugh, weakly. We call out to the angel–questions and praise and hopes for tomorrow that we’ll get it out. Or maybe we'd have to get the shotgun tomorrow. The glow of the creature is so weak. Near midnight, the girl suggests we go looking for its trumpet. If it had been there to warn us, it might have carried a horn, and if it had a horn, we might be able to summon help from its friends.

We search, feebly, avoiding the sparking wires and the upturned wood and metal. We go around in the mud on our hands and knees until we match the trapped creature. Though, we never do figure out what to do with the angel tangled in the power line. The night was long and bitter and we didn’t have anywhere else to be, the drunken chaplain and family-less woman of the birds and that little girl.

Before dawn, I am asleep, we are all asleep, dead to the world like the day will never come. And in the morning, the wires are loose on the ground and quiet. The angel is gone and a relief trucks have come. A part of me hopes the creature made it out. The birds after all peck at the wires on the ground. A part of me is relieved to see that Davie is here and he has all his supplies in the back. The trucks arrived and the power company remembered us enough to cut off the power.

I have nowhere to be, and walk the little girl home. Gloria is happy to see her and offers me a place to stay the night. I tell her my car is just fine. Still, she says, just a night.

The window in the guest room faces the electrical wires. They’ll rebuild them one day because you can’t waste the material all the way out here. Clara will go off to college one day. The chaplain will leave the drink for good, he will, and the church in the same breath. I will write a poem one day and it won’t be any good.

The poem will be about the electrical wires outside my windows. How I don’t know if the angel made it out, but the birds still perch there. They preen and sing and fluff. I count them one by one in the pre-dawn light. Some are flesh and blood. They clean the feathers of the ones that aren’t. Pearly blue jays sing, barely visible, and letting out forgotten songs from yesteryear, and there are fewer ones in the proper light. The angel wire they call it. Year after year, the birds return with their bodies or without them, to sit one by one in a line. Pearly outlines preen their living grandchildren and sing to lost mates and fluff invisible wings, and I close my eyes and listen to the ghosts.

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

Pre-order my new book! 🧡 Newsletter

#flash fiction #spilled ink #flash fic #urban fantasy #magical realism #my work #short story

813 notes · View notes

wvyik · 3 months ago

Text

signed, sealed, seduced. d.w. ⋆˚࿔

dean winchester x fem! reader

ᰔ summary: she’s high-maintenance, deadly, and doesn’t take shit from anyone; especially not from dean. but when their worlds collide, the hunt becomes personal… and a whole lot more complicated.

⤿ warnings: mdni!! explicit content, (i couldn’t help myself) tons of sexual tension, mild explicit content, cursing, dirty jokes, fluff + filth combo, (because why settle for one?), some light violence, a sprinkle of possessiveness, lots of playful banter, reader is so bela talbot coded, frenemies to lovers.

⤿ notes: thank you anon for the request!! im happy to oblige, such an awesome idea btw >ᴗ< think mr. & mrs. smith meets supernatural with just a pinch of unholy sexual frustration.

The first time you ever met Dean Winchester, he tried to shoot you.

In his defense, you had just scammed a warlock out of a cursed amulet that he’d been trying to track for three weeks. In your defense? He was being a little bitch about it.

“You stole it,” he’d growled, all puffed chest and righteous fury.

You’d just smiled, blood-red lipstick flawless, one perfectly arched brow lifting. “I acquired it. Stole is such a blue-collar word.”

He hated you instantly.

They say hate is just the other side of passion. Dean’s starting to believe it. Every time you roll your eyes, every time you sass him, every time you bend over in that tight little pencil skirt that definitely wasn’t accidental— he gets closer to just snapping and pinning you to a wall.

And you know it.

You flirt like it’s war. Batting your lashes just to watch him sweat. Dropping dirty little one-liners that leave him choking on air.

“So serious, Dean. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying not to get hard.”

He whips his head toward you. “Jesus Christ.”

“Oh relax,” you hum, leaning your head back against the seat. “I’m not gonna jump you. You’re not my type.”

He scoffs. “Good.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye. “I like men who at least pretend they don’t want me. It’s more fun when they break.”

You’re a ghost in the hunter world. No last name. No phone number. Just rumors and red lipstick. You’ve sold hex bags to demons and then double-crossed them for hunters. You flirted your way through vampire nests and stole angel blades from under Heaven’s nose. Nobody knows whose side you’re really on.

That’s your whole thing.

Dean hates that it turns him on.

The job takes you to Louisiana. Swamps, heat, and the kind of cursed object no sane hunter touches without gloves, prayers, and a last will and testament.

It’s an old Creole relic. An amulet that traps souls in a loop of violent death. You’ve seen it before. Once. You didn’t walk away clean.

Dean doesn’t ask about it.

You don’t offer.

Instead, you two ride down in the Impala, sniping at each other the whole way. He complains about your luggage (“We’re not staying at the goddamn Ritz!”) and you call his music “sad divorced dad anthems.”

But underneath the sarcasm, something’s shifting. You catch him looking at you longer. Laughing under his breath at your jokes. And when you fall asleep in the car, head resting against the window, he doesn’t say anything. Just glances at you, once, and turns the music down.

The house is cursed, because of course it is. Two people already dead, one missing, and a sulfur trail leading straight to the basement.

You go in first. Dean protests, obviously.

“You’re not bulletproof, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, smirking. “Neither are you. But I look better while risking my life.”

He doesn’t argue.

Not out loud, anyway.

Inside, the air is heavy. Thick with bad energy. The kind that sticks to your skin. Dean’s right behind you, flashlight sweeping, gun drawn. You’re holding a small dagger you stole got from a Haitian priest once. Dean always makes fun of it— until it saves both your lives.

Which it does.

Twice.

“You okay?” he breathes after the second time, chest heaving.

You glance at your bleeding shoulder and shrug. “Ruined another blouse. Guess you’ll have to buy me a new one.”

He glares at you, then rips part of his flannel and presses it to the wound. “Stop joking.”

You blink. His hands are warm. His voice is serious. “You could’ve died,” he mutters.

You smile, softer now. “So could you.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours. And for once, there’s no banter. No sarcasm.

Just that look.

That goddamn look.

The one you’ve seen flicker in motel rooms and over diner coffee, in the lull between hunts. The one he always hides before it can mean anything.

This time, he doesn’t hide it.

He brushes your hair back, careful of the blood. And you let him.

You defeat the cursed object together; barely. It shatters in a flash of flame and screams, and when it’s over, you’re both on the floor, breathless, singed, bleeding.

You laugh.

Dean groans.

“You’re the worst,” he says.

“I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but stops. Because he’s realizing you might be right.

Next thing you know, the air in the motel room is heavy. You’ve both cleaned up—sort of. You’re in a silk robe now, blood rinsed from your skin but not from your memory. Dean’s wearing an old band tee with a rip near the collar and sweatpants, barefoot, jaw still clenched. He hasn’t looked at you since the kiss.

You don’t know if that’s a good sign.

You sit across from him at the little table between the beds, picking at your nail polish, pretending you’re not waiting for him to say something. Anything.

“You could’ve died today,” he finally mutters.

“You already said that.”

He looks up, eyes sharp. “You didn’t react the first time either.”

You shrug. “I didn’t feel like getting all misty-eyed about it while covered in ghost goo.”

Dean leans forward, elbows on the table, and you swear— his gaze softens. Just for a second.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Your stomach flips. Violently.

And now you’re just… staring at him. He’s not looking away. He’s not covering it with sarcasm or barking an insult or making some gruff joke about how everyone dies in this line of work, sweetheart. He’s just sitting there, looking at you like losing you would gut him.

You don’t do emotions. Not like this. Not in daylight. So you smirk, instead. “God, you’re being so clingy.”

Dean chuckles under his breath, but it’s not amused. It’s devastated.

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t do that thing where you pretend this doesn’t matter.”

You open your mouth to toss something clever back, but nothing comes. Because it does matter. And you both know it.

So instead, you get up.

Walk over.

Slide into his lap like it’s nothing.

But it’s everything.

His hands automatically grip your hips. His breath catches.

And you whisper, “I don’t want to lose you either.”

It’s the softest he’s ever seen you. And he looks at you like he’s memorizing it — like this might be the only time he gets to see you with your guard down.

Then he presses his forehead to yours. You sit there for a long time, just breathing each other in. Not kissing. Not speaking. Just holding.

The line between friends and lovers? It’s already blurred. Hell, it’s obliterated.

You slide your hand up the back of his neck. His breath hitches. Your fingers tangle in his hair.

“I’m not gonna run anymore,” you whisper. “So stop looking at me like I’m gonna disappear.”

Dean exhales shakily.

And then he kisses you.

Hard.

Like he’s drowning and you’re the only thing keeping him afloat. His hands grip your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. You sink into him like he’s home.

It’s not neat. It’s not soft.

It’s messy.

Years of denial crash in one second— teeth, tongues, groans swallowed into skin. You push him back further against the mattress and climb over him, still straddling his lap, your hands yanking at his shirt like you’ve waited lifetimes to touch him without consequence.

Dean flips you, presses you into the mattress, mouth hot on your neck.

“Should’ve done this the second I met you,” he mutters into your skin, voice wrecked.

“You were too busy pretending I annoyed you.”

“You did annoy me.” He grins against your collarbone. “Still do.”

You moan when his hands slide under your robe. “Shut up and take it off.”

Dean’s hands are on you; rough, urgent. His fingers digging into your waist, your body pressed flush against his. His breath is ragged, hot on your neck. You’re both trembling, not from the cold but from something deeper, more raw.

You gasp as his lips meet yours again, his mouth is hard against yours, like he’s trying to consume you. And you’re not exactly pulling away either.

Your hands are on his chest, pushing his shirt off, nails scraping against his skin, making him groan low and deep in his throat.

“You sure about this?” he growls, his hands sliding up your thighs, his grip firm and possessive. His lips move down your neck, kissing and biting, and you can’t stop the shiver that races through you.

“I’ve been sure since the first time I laid eyes on you, Winchester,” you breathe out, your voice shaky but bold. The words feel like they’ve been building up for months, desperate to spill out.

Dean’s hands slide lower, just shy of where you need him. “Yeah? Then why’d you keep running from me?”

You’re not sure if it’s the heat, the pressure, or the way he looks at you with that fire in his eyes, but you snap, your patience snapping like a rubber band. You rip his belt off, hands shaking but determined.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this too,” you snap, before kissing him hard again, all teeth and tongue, pushing your body against his, aligning the two of you in one swift motion.

Dean’s breath hitches in his throat, a low growl escaping his lips as he finally lets you have control. His hands are on your hips, guiding you, the pressure between your legs sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body.

The world outside the room disappears. There’s nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the slick slide of skin on skin, and the rhythm you’re both setting— raw, frantic, desperate.

His voice breaks as he pulls you closer, his lips pressing against your ear. “God, you feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”

You don’t hold back. The tension, the need, it’s been bubbling beneath the surface, and now, it’s exploding. You move against him, your body finding its rhythm with his, chasing that overwhelming heat, that burn that has nothing to do with the hunt, with monsters. It’s just the two of you now, tangled in sheets, no masks, no pretenses.

Dean groans as you shift, his hands gripping your hips tighter. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Should’ve had you like this from the start.”

You smile, teeth grazing his jawline as you pull back just enough to look him in the eye, your breath uneven. “Took you long enough to catch up.”

“You feel so good,” he mutters between kisses. “Damn, you feel better than I imagined.” His voice is low, strained, the heat in his tone like fire. “Always knew this was gonna happen… didn’t realize it’d be this fucking good.”

Your movements become faster, rougher, and Dean matches you, his hands gripping your hips harder as he takes control of the rhythm. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, the soft, breathy moans you both can’t hold back, fill the room. And you can feel his eyes on you, burning with an intensity that sends a wild thrill straight through your core.

His name is a whisper on your lips as you both fall into it. That final, explosive moment when you can’t tell where you begin and he ends. It’s pure, intense, all-consuming.

And when you both finally collapse into the bed, gasping for air, sweaty and wrecked, there’s no question.

You’re not just two people sharing a night anymore.

You’re tangled up in something deeper.

Something that’s not going to fade in the morning.

After, you’re tangled in the sheets, your head on his chest, his hand lazily tracing patterns across your bare back.

“You’re mine now, huh?” he murmurs, voice all husky and smug and soft.

You hum. “I was starting to think you’d never ask...”

Dean kisses the top of your head. “We’re really doing this?”

You look up at him. “Yeah. We are.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin, clearly amused, but his eyes flicker with that intense, familiar heat. “You sure you’re ready for all this, sweetheart?” He motions to himself dramatically. “I’m a lot.”

You pause, staring at him, before letting out a mock gasp. “Oh no. Does that mean I’m gonna have to be the one saving you next time?”

Dean laughs, the sound rich and full of life. “Baby, the only thing you’ll be saving is my dignity— if there’s any left after last night.. And maybe if you get lucky a few monsters along the way.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” You give him a wink, running your fingers through his hair. “Guess I’ll just have to keep you out of trouble, huh?”

Dean leans in, catching your lips in a kiss that’s lighter than before but still packed with that unmistakable Dean Winchester intensity. “You’re my trouble now, sweetheart.”

And for the first time, it feels like everything’s exactly as it should be.

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics @littlesoulshine @starzify @ladykitana90 @idontwannabehere78 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @pieandflannel @twelveyearsofit @tinas111 @riteofpassage77 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡

#༊*·˚ wvyik #sofia writes ✎#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader

470 notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 11 months ago

Text

Birb in the hand Part 8

Birdritch Masterpost

For several reasons, Bruce hadn’t expected to wake up cuddling a stranger. One, there were enough family in the makeshift nest. Two, there had been no stranger, just a strange bird. Three, cuddle pollen or no, Bruce should have been alert as soon as the stranger became a factor.

Instead, Bruce woke slowly, sleep muddle brain confused about why he was awake until he clocked the uneven breathing of the person in his arms. Bruce’s brain went from asleep to alert in an instant as he ordered ‘breath’.

And in that instant Bruce knew that the person in his arms wasn't one of his.

There was a stranger in the Batcave.

A stranger who wasn’t breathing right.

Bruce walked them through answering questions as he took in everything else. Other than Alfred, his family was close. The furthest away was Jason who was asleep on the meeting table rather than in the next with the rest of them. They were starting to wake up, aware something was wrong.

Noticeably missing was the bird entity.

Instead they had a stranger— a stranger who whimpered in pain as Bruce got them upright.

A shapeshifter? An unwilling shapeshifter, possibly. An unwanted transformation could certainly explain the pain.

Dick offered to get a towel and Bruce mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ at his oldest. Bruce was worried by the fact that the breathing hadn’t regulated yet. At least the cold was enough to shock the stranger into a forced breath and Bruce tried to guide them through it.

“There, keep that up,” Bruce instructed.

The stranger pinched Bruce for that. He hardly jolted, but apparently he had moved enough to make Cass giggle at him. A soft huff of a laugh escaped, mostly at Cass’ amusement, but partially at the sass of the stranger.

“I know you know,” Bruce said in response to the pinch. “Now your body just needs to know.”

Bruce didn’t let the second pinch deter him anymore than the first. Gently, he ran a pattern with his thumb up and down the other’s hand, a silent beat to count to. Their hand was calloused. They were someone used to holding tools and using them, but of a precise sort as the rest of the skin was soft. There were a few bandages on the fingers and palms of the hand. Precise tools they were bad with? No, precise tools but either an absent mind or someone who moved too quickly. The wells of their fingernails were stained with bluing and solder and graphite. A specialty machinist of some sort perhaps, watch maker?

“Well, at least it wasn’t an orgy,” the stranger said, suddenly, voice raspy from the panic attack.

Bruce could see Jason trip out of the corner of his eyes from where he was finally getting up off the table.

“Ew,” Tim whined after a beat of stunned silence. “Oh, ew, no, nope, not thinking of that. Where’s the brain bleach? B, tell me the JL has invented brain bleach.”

“Or that thing from Men in Black,” Jason groused.

“No, Reds, the JL does not have brain bleach or ‘that thing from Men in Black’,” Bruce said dryly.

“Wiping a specific memory is actually incredibly hard,” the stranger said. “We’re still learning how all of those pathways connect and that’s even without considering instinct and muscle memory. Now preventing memories for forming, that’s easy. Take me and why I’m even here, no clue, but much harder to erase something that’s already known and perhaps something that could cause a cascade failure… and shutting up now.”

“Are you always like this in the morning?” Jason asked.

“Believe it or not,” the stranger drawled, “waking up in a cave asleep with a bunch of vigilante and no memory of how I got here is not my usually morning.”

Bruce found himself giving a soft chuckle. Normally he would never, but now that the emergency was over apparently his brain was happy to slip back into the morning fog. He did his best to put some Batman gravel into his voice as he spoke. “Once you’ve rinsed off, we will explain. There was cuddle pollen involved, you need to make sure it’s gone so that you are not exposed again.”

“Okay, well, at least cuddle pollen explains some of this,” they grumbled softly. They made a move to lean away from Bruce but stopped short with a hiss of pain.

Bruce moved forward to keep supporting them. “What’s wrong?”

“Just my body being my body. Where’s my bag?”

Cass appeared holding a messenger bag a moment later with a smile.

“Oh, thank you.” Carefully and with Bruce’s support, they leaned forward to take the bag and start searching around in it. “I’m sorry, I don’t know which one you are without the whole getup.”

“B.B.,” Cass chirped. She sat down crosslegged and helped hold the things that the stranger set aside from their bag.

“B.B? Oh, Black Bat,” they said with a little nod and a soft ah-ha as they found what they were looking for. “Thank you B.B.”

Cass gave an acknowledging little noise as the stranger shook a pill out of a small container and knocked it back with a swig from their water bottle.

“Sorry, alright, willing to offer a hand up, B.B?” They asked.

Cass set the items back in the bag, hoped up, and offered her hand. Bruce made sure to support the stranger as they stood, which let Bruce feel the fine tremors that ran through their body and hear the bitten back sounds of pain. Bruce trusted Cass and Dick to help them to the showers and bring a set of clothing to change into. When he turned around, Tim was already poking at the messenger bag.

“Red,” Bruce sighed.

“B,” Tim interrupted and twisted an ID tag clipped on the bag for Bruce to see.

It was a Wayne Enterprises ID badge the color combination of R&D. Danny Fenton, it read, he/him, R&D.

---

AN: take care darlings, take care and be delightful.

#dp x dc #spirit halloween ship #birdritch

2K notes · View notes

last-words-ofashootingstar · 3 months ago

Text

Allure

Part Three: Smoke

❥ Park Seonghwa x fem reader x Kim Hongjoong

Part One & Part Two

➯a/n: YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BEOOOOTCHESSS ITS HERE HOLD ONTO YOUR PANTIES. finally finally finally!! im so glad i got to write this, and if there's enough demand i'll spoil yall with pure smut of these three emotional wrecks 😎

✃ "This is home."

♫ "I don't smoke except for when I'm missing you." -Smoke, Mitski ♫ Allure Soundtrack ♫

✫彡wordcount: 13k (whoops)

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, yandere, a/b/o

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: i regret nothing GENERAL: alpha MATZ/omega reader, pack dynamics, family trouble, angst, heat induced illness, shmoking shweed 🍃, worshipping the moon, general werewolf things, briefly proof-read. SMUT: highlights include; hella dirty talk, heats and ruts, fingering, threesome, emotional sex, like seriously emotional on a soul level

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

ALLURE ⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky @choichaeyiul @cheynalexilaiho @haven-cove @hwasbabygirl @gong-fourz @chaoticfloral @hyukssunflower @unlikelysublimekryptonite @tinybada

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART THREE ˚➶ ｡˚

"You shouldn't smoke, y'know?"

The words slip up your throat and past your lips before you can stop them. That seems to be a common reoccurrence with your body now adjusting to having your blocker ripped out. You're starting to be less surprised with the thoughts that tumble out without your consent, but you still look a little shocked as you speak so plainly to the alpha.

"Sorry," you mumble, averting your eyes as Seonghwa looks directly at you while nursing the joint between his fingers.

"Why's that?" He asks tartly, a puff of the smoke rising into the air. It dances around his head as it slowly dissipates.

On the side of the road, you're sat on the edge of the concrete- with Seonghwa standing like a guard tower next to you. The van is just a few long strides away, and you can hear the chatter as San and Wooyoung fight about how to correctly change a tire.

"It's bad for you," you state simply, "for your lungs."

"I'm fine," he dismisses quickly, taking another long puff. "I'm a big bad wolf."

You huff out a laugh at his deadpan voice: so flat that you almost think he's serious, but when you look up at him you find a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, okay, talk to me when you're coughing up a lung," you joke as you go back to facing the field, locking your gaze as you feel him move to sit next to you.

His legs sprawl out further than yours into the grass as he mirrors your position, leaning his weight back on his hands and looking at the vibrant summer colors.

"Can I ask you somethin', Omega?"

You hate the way your wolf prances in joy when he calls you by your status. Nobody ever does that anymore, only to Alphas to show respect. "Sure?"

"Tell me about your past packs. I want to know everything."

He doesn't say it like a question, but he doesn't use his commanding voice. It's a small gesture, really it's the bare minimum not to force you to tell your story, but you're still grateful for the opportunity to think it over before you open your mouth.

You don't do so for a few slow moments, but when you do, you tell the truth to him. "I hated them, mostly."

That seems to peek his interest, he draws in his legs and rests his arms on his knees as he leans towards you, flicking his joint to the road before his eyes become unblinking even though you never meet his stare.

"In my born pack, I never felt like I fit in. I was the first Omega born in a while, the only one there even. They didn't bother to teach me about anything. How to nest, hunt, none of that. I wasn't involved in rituals or even taken to The Thing. My mom was okay, I guess. She loved me, but I guess not as much as she would have loved me if I were a different status... cause when I turned eighteen they threw me to the curb."

You still remember it clearly, the look of disgust on your older sister's face as she finally got to tell you how disappointing you were to the family of strong Beta's.

"But my last pack... I was a lot happier. Alpha Fairchild was very sweet. He took me in under his wing when he found me. He and his wife taught me how to nest, how to control my fangs and claws, how to present if I ever got a mate, stuff I should've know all along... There were other Omegas there but still, we were a little, uh, different I guess, from the rest of the pack. They didn't let us do rituals, but I did start going to The Thing every year with the Fairchilds."

He watches, owl-eyed, as you speak softly, committing every word to memory as he absorbs them.

"But-" You clear your throat before you can get choked up on your emotions, "they passed a couple years ago. A rouge broke out of the prison and decided that I'd be a good snack. My Alpha fought him but... but age was catching up to him, he wasn't as fast as he used to be."

His wolf whines internally as he sees a tear roll down your cheek, deep regret settling in his bones as he remembers how they mocked your late Alpha.

"His wife got sick when their bond was broken, and she never recovered. Told me I should lead the pack in their absence, but honestly she had a fever so high it could have touched the moon."

The silence between you is only broken by the far off voices of his pack.

That is, until he speaks. "You'll be a great leader."

"Yeah, right-"

"I'm serious."

You finally meet his gaze, and you can see the sincerity swirling in the dark brown of his eyes. "You will be a great addition to this pack. Selene knows what she's doing, doesn't she? Every member of this pack is a leader in their own right, and you're no different, Omega. By our side, you could rule the world if you wanted to..."

He cups your cheek with all the gentleness in his heart, thumb stroking your cheek bone as he continues, "you're already feeling it, aren't you? I saw the dents in your tub, no little Omega on blockers could cause damage like that." Your heart skips a beat as his hand trails down slowly, tracing his bite with the pad of his index finger. "Mind, body, soul, and wolf... I can feel you, just like I feel Joong. Can't you feel us?"

You can't believe your eyes as you see the first born Alpha tearing up, caressing your neck like you're a piece of ancient fine china that will shatter at the slightest bit of pressure.

"Can't you feel me?"

The sounds of the others become muffled to you as he rests his forehead against yours, a tender gesture that makes your wolf melt into his.

"We are what we are. Why do you fight it, Omega?"

The affectionate bond is broke when someone shouts, making you jump back. "Hey, love birds! We fixed it!" Mingis voice pulls you away from Seonghwa, and you scramble back to the van with a heat on your cheeks and a lot on your mind.

As you climb into the vehicle, you catch a glimpse of the oldest member. Exactly where you left him, unmoving until Hongjoong grabs his shoulder and snaps him from his trance.

He blinks a few quick times, and the tears and tenderness are gone by the time the van lurches to life.

˚➶ ｡˚

The farm house staring back at you is giant. Compared to your house that's a lifetime away, it may as well be a mansion that's been plopped down in the middle of nowhere.

The last few hours of the journey were awkward, more so than before your midnight rendezvous with Hongjoong and your mid-morning conversation with Seonghwa. So, you were grateful to be out of the cage on wheels.

Lia and Wooyoung immediately jump out of the van, running up onto the wrap around porch and into the tall door. San and Mingi follow after, carrying the small amount of bags: all but yours which is clutched to your chest as you gape at the house.

Under pretty much any other circumstances, you'd have been thrilled to start calling this place home. But Seonghwa places his hand on the small of your back, and you're reminded that this will most likely become the house that you're locked in for the foreseeable future; two criminal alphas and their pack along with them, trapping you.

Hongjoong arm finds its way around your shoulders. "Welcome home, Dolly~" He chimes while bending to kiss your head.

"You'll like it here," Seonghwa says in a much more lukewarm tone, "our pack isn't very big, but they'll respect you. You can have free rein of the estate, but if you try to pass the gates, you'll regret it." He moves his hand and grips the side of your head, kissing in a way that's akin to affection, to love. But it's much too forceful and piercing to your soul. Especially paired with his words.

"Alpha!" A deep voice comes barreling towards you, and you look up from the dirt to see the tall figure that accompanies it. "Thank goodness!" He tackles Seonghwa off of you, into a crushing hug. "Thank the moon! I was about to lose my mind," he chuckles, and you almost miss the small, fond smile on the alphas lips as he pats the man's back.

He turns and acknowledges you briefly with a hello and a bow before he gives Hongjoong the same treatment. He doesn't hide his glee like his other half does, he laughs softly and hugs him back just as tightly.

"Holding down the fort for us?" He asks as they release each other.

"Barely," he sighs before turning back to you, holding out his hand. "I'm Yunho, nice to- ow!"

"No touching." The brunette alpha groans, pulling you into his side possessively.

"Oh, of course! Sorry, sorry," he apologizes quickly, and while he's looking at you- it's clear that the apology is to his offended alpha. "Well, it's nice to meet you, we were all thrilled to hear."

"Yeah..." The small pinch on your side courtesy of Seonghwa urges you to continue, "thank you. Nice to meet you too."

"Well, uhm, Yeosang and Jongho are out by Greenes territory doing recon, why don't you both- sorry, you three all come in and get settled."

You're too anxious and swarmed in thoughts to care about what they're talking about, just tightly holding onto your bag as you follow behind Yunho and Hongjoong.

Your body doesn't seem to have trouble going up the stairs and onto the porch, but it halts at the doorway. You search the area visible to you. It's a warm looking home. Inviting. Lived in but not dirty. Decorated tastefully. It looks like a regular farm house. And that makes your stomach hurt, knowing that's far from the truth.

"Let's go, omega. Hot as fuck out here." Seonghwas voice from behind you startles you back to life, and your legs comply as he pushes you into the building gently as he can manage.

The slam of the door makes you flinch, holding your bag tighter to your chest.

When he yells, you twitch away, stumbling further into the home even though it's not directed at you. "Jesus, a man leaves for a few weeks and his house becomes a reck!"

"Sorry, man, we were kinda busy breaking you out from prison," San quips as he passes into the living room to your left.

"Hey, omega!" Hongjoong bounds up to you with his ever present manic glee, grabbing your hand and almost making your drop your only earthly possessions. "I'll show you around!"

The first floor is lively, everyone buzzing with energy from the alphas return. He shows you the day room, with a big colored tv which enamors you for a bit until you're drug to the large kitchen. He tells you that you have full access, but don't try anything dumb with the knives or they'll become off limits. There's a bathroom, a laundry room, and a door that has multiple locks on it. He tells you not to worry about that last one.

The second floor is a little more quiet. You only see Lia in the halls before she disappears into one of the many rooms. He opens up every door while he speaks a name. "Yunho," he explains at the room with a disheveled look, "hm, he needs to pick up before Hwa gets on his ass." The next door reveals a room with a huge bed and nearly nothing else, "Wooyoung." A room with a heavy smell which makes you shiver, "Yeosang," and you make a mental note to avoid that person when you meet them.

The next room makes up for it, the soft and comfortable smell of an omega washing away the fear briefly, "Mingi." The next room,which shocks you because, there's an obvious smell of a female beta, "Sannie and Cheonsa. She's probably outside tending to the animals." The next door is already open, and Lia waves to you. "Lia, as you can see," he waves back and leads you to the last door in the hall, "and her brother, Jongho."

"That's all of us! You'll get used to a full house soon," he grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to the third and final floor. "This one's all us." You know he means you, him, and Seonghwa. Because there's not even a hint of any other scent besides them despite being in the same house.

It's overwhelming them.

It's one straight hall coming up the stairs, and behind them is a small open library area. One door is the bathroom. One is an empty room, save for a few boxes. You try to push away the quick remark he makes about making it into a nursery, but that makes your stomach hurt as well. The second to last in the hall is an office area with two desks, overflowing with stacks of paper and files. He says you don't have to worry about what they do in here, but you know it has to do with their 'line of work'.

The furthest door in the hall nearly makes you gag , but your wolf is howling and prancing excitedly. It smells, no, it reeks of the two alphas. He opens the door with a wide smile. A proud smile.

You step in hesitantly. There's an open door, a closet with neatly hung clothes over a set of drawers. "We'll make some room for your clothes as well. Next time I go to town I'll get you some, you didn't pack a lot." The bed side tables on either side of the enormous bed have a lamp and little things strewn on their surface. On the left is a walkman, a nail file, a framed photo that you can't quite make out from this distance. On the right is an ashtray, a small vase with fake flowers in it, and a half burned candle.

"You can make yourself at home, I promise. I know it will take a while to get comfortable... But you can make this place your own as well." He urges you forward and takes your bag gingerly. "I'll help you unpack."

It's not an offer, you quickly realize as he unzips the large duffel bag. You stand there anxiously in the middle of the room as he takes your things out and sets them on the dark grey comforter that knocks another wave of their mixed scent into the air every time he sets your things on it. "If you need anything too, don't be afraid to ask." He smiles over his shoulder at you. "You won't be going anywhere for a while, so let us know how to make you comfy!"

The nonchalant aura around him makes you angry. Acting like you're a prized guest, and like they didn't forcefully bond with you and drag you more than half way across the country.

He notices your tears before you do, pausing with your own walkman in his hands as he turns around. He discards it on the bed and fully turns to you.

With a sigh, he sits on the edge of the mattress. "Come here."

When you make no move to come forward, only standing still and crying with your head down, he uses his commanding voice. "Omega, come."

Your wolf nearly breaks her hind legs with the force she pushes you forward with. And despite your deepest anxieties and fears nagging at you, you find yourself standing between his knees. "Omega, look at me," he does it again, forcing your eyes to meet his with only his words. "You scared?"

"Yes..." It's barely above a whisper. But he catches it. You could whisper at the volume of an ant and he would catch it.

"Omega, tell me something that would comfort you."

You fight the words on your tongue, but it's useless. You're only grateful they haven't used that voice to do darker things. "I want to be home."

"Something else, omega."

"I want to nest."

"Stay."

He leaves you quickly, and your feet are rooted in place despite your pout. You blink away the remaining tears in your eyes, tired of crying over that which can't be changed. You're here. You're mated to two criminals. You're stuck in the middle of nowhere.

About seven internal wars later, he returns with his arms packed. "Here you go! Set it up wherever you like, Dolly."

He drops everything on the floor, and you hesitate to break his command of 'stay' before taking a step toward the pile and looking curiously.

"Can..."

He looks up from the pile, eyes eager, "hm?"

"Can I do it on my own...please?"

It's as if you can see the way his wolf's ears drop along with his eyes, but he nods nonetheless and takes a finally glance at you before he closes the door behind him.

˚➶ ｡˚

You wanted the corner of the room. Your wolf wanted the bed, arguing he said anywhere.

Halfway through building your saftey nest in the far corner, you get tired of her incessant howling.

You settle at the foot of the bed, building a small bed, just enough room for you incase they get ideas of joining you; they'd end up on the floor. You tuck your empty bag under your head, leaving your things where Hongjoong left them, too afraid to encroach on their space although they'd done much worse to you.

If you focus hard enough, you can smell the faint memories on the fabric. Smells that remind you of home. Smells that lure you to fitful sleep.

The sound of your soft, even breaths, reach Hongjoongs ears from his place in the office next door.

"She's asleep," he informs the others in the room quietly, followed by a threat, "wake her up and I'll kill you."

Yunho nods quietly, brining out a manilla file from his lap and setting it on the desk where Seonghwa is sat behind, and Hongjoong is sat ontop of. "Pictures of the Greene territory. Alpha's house is up on this hill, it's a good bit away but they'd hear any commotion, so we need to be in and out with whatever you've got planned."

Hongjoong leans over disinterested and glances at the developed photos. "How many in the house?"

"We've seen about six come and go, but Yeosang is out there now sniffing to pin point for sure."

The eldest wolf simply hums an acknowledgment, glaring at the photos of the large, smiling pack.

A silence drapes them gently while the leaders commit the layout to memory.

"So-"

"How-"

The beta bows his head, letting the elder speak first. "How many sales since we left?"

"About the same, some customers dropped when you guys' names hit the news. Only a few, though."

"Okay. What were you going to say?"

The brunette shifts in his seat, both of the alphas gazes now fixed on him, on his awkward heartbeat.

"About your mate... I don't mean to be crass-"

"Out with it." Hongjoong snaps, leaning towards him in an act of dominance, "what about her?"

Yunhos face drops, his back pressing into the chair, "do you really know that she's meant to be yours? She seems so... docile."

"You're questioning us?" Seonghwa grumbles, lip snarling upward, "has the few weeks of being in charge gone to your head?"

"No, no!" He shouts, quickly placing a hand over his mouth and lowering his volume, "no, Alpha... I'm just worried for her. It doesn't seem like she'll fair well here. She seems... a bit weak."

"She'll fair just fine, because we're going to take care of her. And you will as well. Everyone here is to treat her with the utmost respect and care. Yes, Yunho, we really know she's meant for us, ask something stupid like that again and you'll earn a trip to the basement."

"S-sorry," he pouts to himself, wiping it away before he looks up, "am I excused? I haven't slept well the past few weeks, I'd like to rest."

"Go," the alpha huffs, already beginning to sort through more papers.

"And be quiet in the hall!" Follows the second man, whispering loudly as the beta scampers away.

˚➶ ｡˚

A knock at the door is foreign. For you to hear, and for Seonghwa to do at his own door.

He doesn't get a response as you groggily lift yourself up, so he comes in anyways, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he sees your state.

"Dinners ready, we're waiting for you."

You blink up at him, and become brave as you shake your head.

"You aren't hungry? You need to eat, your heat is-"

"Do you all eat together?"

"We do, everyday except weekends. Wooyoung and Cheonsa are wonderful cooks."

"That's nice..." You sniff the air in attempt to find the wafts of food, but find nothing. With your senses, you can't smell anything other than the scents of your mates permeating in the wallpaper. "I'm not hungry."

"Come on, let get you some-" He reaches forward to your small nest, where you cower back even more, cutting him off-

"I don't want to."

A mute moment falls between you as he stares down at you, and you down at the floor. When you dare look up, your gut fills with regret.

His lip is snarled up on one side, canine on display and eyes glinting dangerously in the filtered light from the curtains.

You immediately lower your head, moving at a snails pace as you roll onto your side, then your knees, kneeling in your small nest. "Please, Alpha, I don-"

"You don't get a free pass to be disrespectful just because you're my mate. Pack dinner is non-negotiable, Omega. Do you understand?" You hear the movement from him, but you don't dare look at him again.

"Yes..."

Another beat of silence.

A pregnant pause.

His gaze burns your soul as he takes in every inch of you.

Your trembling fists at either side of your folded legs. Your lowered head, bites on both sides of your neck. Submitting to him so easily, making yourself small as you kneel on the little nest you've built in his space. Already smelling like him and his mate just by napping in their room.

He almost doesn't want to let the heavenly scent of you be tainted by leaving the room.

Almost.

You yip quietly as he tugs you up by your bicep, head still hanging low as you tune out his grumbling. He's careful going down the stairs, watching your feet closely as you descend.

His grip doesn't go away until you're standing infront of the table.

"Oh my gosh!" A sweet and soft voice coos, and it's quickly followed by the warm embrace of two hands cupping your face. Both calloused and gentle as a spring breeze, the caressing makes you open your eyes wearily.

The woman holding your face and smiling up at you immediately calms your anxious jitters, and your wolf is drawn into a sense of safety- one that feels like Hyolyn or Chungha, in a way. Like a fellow woman you could lean towards.

She has shining grey eyes that crinkle with her smile and brown fluffy hair. "Oh, she's so cute!" She coos softly, petting your cheeks in a way that makes you simultaneously confused and comforted.

"No touching, Cheonsa," Seonghwa chuckles from behind you, making the woman pout briefly as she steps back.

For a moment, you wonder why he was less stern with her- but your curiosity it settled when her round belly comes into view. You blink at it a few times before you hear her laugh.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to stare!" You move to bow, held upright by the man as the laughter spreads to the seated members of the pack.

"It's okay, she's pretty big, huh? I'm only six months, she must take after her dad." She cradles her stomach as she moves away to take the seat next to the buff beta. He has an air of proudness around him as he smiles at her. "Sit down, dear, we won't bite."

You rush to take the seat next to her, instead of the one next to Hongjoong and the unfamiliar man with green hair.

Despite the fact that she couldn't have been much older than the rest of you, she had a motherly aura that made you feel less like you wanted to dive out of the nearest window.

Seonghwa takes the seat you had passed up, giving Hongjoong a chaste kiss to the head which makes the smaller alpha beam.

The table is octangular and a bit cramped, but nobody seems to mind besides you. Though you won't voice your thoughts, you won't even look up until prompted. Across from you, Hongjoong speaks while reaching over and handing you a plate, "we all serve one another during dinner, it's our own little ritual of respect."

He begins loading the plate with a multitude of foods, a comfortable silence in the room. Comfortable for the pack, at least. You're starting to get restless as you watch his fingers effortlessly maneuver the serving chop sticks.

Your eyes go up his arm and scan the tattoo on his inner arm before you finally land on his face. He has a smile on his lips. One that's not manic or worn with an edge. One that says he's content, happy.

He gestures you to set the plate down, and hands you the chopsticks after you do so. "Serve anyone you like, Doll," the glint in his eyes clearly says he hopes you chose him, or Seonghwa even.

You take a moment to survey the circle.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa, who you won't serve for a list of reasons. The green haired man with an aura that almost seemed quiet, until you caught a whiff of his scent. Yeosang, your wolf connects as you remember the smell of the room you saw in your brief tour. San and Cheonsa, who you assumed wanted to serve one another. Wooyoung, Mingi, and Lia already had plates- apparently having served one another before your arrival. That left Yunho, who avoided your gaze, and a short and unfamiliar but strangely comforting man.

With everyone else accounted for, this must be Jongho. He doesn't smell like a werewolf, upon a further sniff. Similar to Lia, in that way. Actually, similar to Lia in a lot of ways. Soft features, brown eyes and hair, chubby cheeks. Was he unfamiliar? You felt like you'd seen him before. Maybe in a news paper or something reporting the groups crimes-

"Omega," Seonghwa hums, breaking your staring contest with the unwilling participant.

"Sorry..." You took a deep breath and decided on Yeosang. If he was as scary as his scent came off as, it'd be best to show him some respect and get on his good side. You shakily clench a piece of meat in the chopsticks and hold it out in offering.

He sits up straight and holds his plate up with both hands, seemingly surprised that you picked him out of any other open plate.

The alphas seem similarly surprised, watching as you fill the other man's plate before carefully handing over the chopsticks.

He makes quick work of filling Seonghwa's plate, almost as nervous as you as the alphas glare at him. Hongjoongs glare quickly falls into a childish pout, turning to face your lowered head. "Why him?" He drags out.

"Uh?" You look up with wide eyes, "I dunno... He has cool hair."

Wooyoung cackles at the bewildered faces of the leaders, and the noise makes smiles spread across the entirety of the table.

˚➶ ｡˚

The smell of lust is that of overly salted caramel butterscotch.

Seonghwa's is, at least.

You bury your nose deeper in the fabric of your bag and whine.

It's the dead of night, completely silence in the house. Darkness only broken by the moon filtering in through the windows. And you haven't gotten a wink of sleep.

The smell of the room keeps your rowdy wolf rolling on her back and exposing her underbelly, begging for her mates. And it doesn't help that the sources keep it fresh and wafting. And it especially doesn't help that the elder alpha seems to be having a wet dream.

You -against your best judgment- hold onto the end of the bed frame and peek your eyes over.

Hongjoong is laying face down with one of your few pieces of clothing under his head, half under the blanket.

Seonghwa is completely above the covers, on the other side of the bed and leaving a gap between them that they clearly left for you to fill.

The sight of him makes you slick — slicker, that is.

Only in his boxers, one leg bent to the side, tattooed fingers resting idly over the tent that-

"Hm? 'Mega?" He hums sleepily, blinking down at you.

You duck back into the false safety of your nest, breathing heavily like you just ran a marathon. Over the fast thrumming of your heart, you hear the bed creak ever so slightly. His steps, in reality are soft and somewhat clumsy from his newly woken state, but they feel like little individual earthquakes to you.

"What are you doing awake?" He asks quietly, sniffing the air curiously. "Aww," he reaches and pats your head softly, earning a sound that you rarely ever heard yourself make. You purred.

His smile was soft and earnest as he pets your head, taking a knee just outside of your little safe haven. "You need help?"

Yes! Your wolf wants to scream. Desperately, yes!

You shake your head, no.

He hums, clearly not convinced. His eyes trail down your body and to the little bed you've made. "That can't be as comfy as a bed, can it?"

You don't answer, simply staring up with wide eyes.

"Come lay with us, just until we can get you a mat or something and make your nest more comfortable, yeah?"

You can't lie to yourself, and you certainly can't lie to Seonghwa with his senses that listen to your heartbeat and pick up on every flutter of your eyelashes. Maybe it will help you sleep. You need a good night of rest.

"Okay..."

˚➶ ｡˚

The first floor is a hive of activity, people to and from and here and there. A multitude of barely familiar scents mixing together. The clink of cutlery and the distant hum of voices.

You're thankful that Seonghwa didn't drag you down like he did last night, they allowed you to come at your own pace; and if any of them notice you standing at the bottom of the stairs (they do), they don't say anything.

"Why don't you get something to eat?" A soft suggestion comes from behind you. Lia, you turn to see. "We won't bite," she jokes as she slides past you.

Unfortunately, you think, you do bite.

You follow loosely behind her, taking a small bit of the food off the serving plates before standing awkwardly in the doorway.

The chatter stops slowly and you can feel their eyes on you, but you try your hardest to ignore it as you over-think where to sit.

Over the open seat between Hongjoong and Yunho, you choose the one between Mingi and Jongho.

"How'd you sleep?" Cheonsa asks over the silence, clearly trying to break the ice.

"Fine, thank you... and you?"

"Oh, I was up and down all night — baby is acting I owe her money, kicking me like that," she laughs, bringing a small smile to your face.

The chatter between the pack members returns, and you keep mostly to yourself as you eat.

"- so he wants to see us in person to clear things up, shouldn't take us too long," Seonghwa says as he stands, catching your attention. He comes around the table to stand behind you and you freeze.

It's quiet again, the members know better than to talk over their leader; especially when he has the stern look on his face.

Your chair scrapes against the tile as he pulls you back, only a little bit.

He slides his finger tips down your jaw and under your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Will you be okay while Hongjoong and I take care of some business?"

You nod, hesitantly. You'll obviously be okay. But your wolf doesn't want them to leave.

"I'll be fine," you force out a verbal response and he hums approvingly.

Before he backs away though, he comes closer. Close enough to peck your lips gently, before backing away quickly and taking his plate to the kitchen.

Hongjoong is on you next, and he seemingly forgot the meaning of "privacy", as he shamelessly grabs your hair and tilts your head to meet his eager lips. You jump in shock, although you don't try to pull away as he licks your tongue a few good times before finally pulling away.

"Ooooh~" Wooyoung whistles, cut off by a hit to his chest from Mingi, "ow! Dickhead!"

Their bantering is lost on you as Hongjoong speaks, "be good, Dolly."

You face your plate once more as you feel your ear heating up with embarrassment- and something else.

From the door, you hear Seonghwa shout, "Yunho, you're in charge!"

Thankfully, the remaining members leave you to your own devices again as everyone finishes up, slowly filtering out and leaving you at the table on your lonesome.

And you sit there. For a long time, you just sit. And you think. And then, you begin to cry.

Because it's only been an hour. And you find yourself missing your alphas.

You keep your noise to a minimum for the sake of the wolves that you can hear in the other room, but one thing slips your mind.

There's another alpha in the house, and he can smell your scent turning sour.

Within seconds, he's snuck up on you, a frown on his face at the smell of an upset omega.

"Hey..." Yeosang whispers as he pulls out a chair one away from you, slowly sitting so as not to spook you.

You mumble out a small, "sorry," as you try and wipe your flowing tears, turning away from him.

"Do you, uhm, do you wanna talk about it?"

"What?"

He looks around the room like he's never seen it before just to avoid your gaze.

You sigh before looking back down at the table you've stared at for more than an hour.

Silence.

Painfully awkward silence and the stench of tears.

A low grumble comes from his throat, seemingly without his knowledge because his eyes widen and he bows his head with an apology. "Sorry, sorry," he rambles, "I'm sorry, my wolf just hates when others are sad."

"Sorry..." You sniff, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, no, no! Uhm, you know what, can I-" He holds his hand out, "can I just? May I?"

You look down at it cautiously, eyebrows screwed up in confusion, but your wolf tells you to take his hand. And so you do.

He wraps his fingers around your hand gently and holds it, and you slowly do the same.

Even more confusion paints itself on your face as your sadness fades into a dull tug in your heart strings. "How are you doing that?" You blurt out.

"I'm from a pack of healing wolves, it's just second nature to us." He says in a soft tone, something sad in his eyes.

"Thank you, Yeosang," you say simply.

The sadness is gone when he smiles up at you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The alphas return sometime in the night, as you sit on the porch with Cheonsa and Lia, talking about simple things and listening to the bugs chirp.

"Welcome back!" Cheonsa says before you even notice they're approaching.

"Ladies," Hongjoong greets with a playfully bow.

"Everything good here," Seonghwa asks more formally, leaning over you and scenting your head.

"Yup, all quiet here."

"Good. Could you give us a moment with our mate, please?"

They're up and into the house before he even finishes his command, leaving you alone with them in the dusk breeze. You greet them with a small smile, and a simple, "you're back."

"What, you expect us to abandon you?" Hongjoong jokes as he sniffs the air, a look of distain quickly overcoming his smile,"hey-!"

"You smell like Yeosang, why?" Seonghwa interjects with a cold glare, both of their stares making you shrink up.

"Oh, he helped me-"

"Helped you?!" The blonde pounces on you and sniffs all over, trying to pinpoint the smell and letting out a growl as the wind prevents him from doing so. He pins your wrists to the wooden porch and moves his nose all along your neck and chest.

"Not like that!" Your wolf whines at the mere thought of another alpha- another wolf touching you so intimately.

Hongjoong pauses, and so does Seonghwa who was about to rip the door open to get to the man you smelled of. From above you, the younger tilts his head, his grip lessening enough for you to hold out your hand — where the smell is most potent.

"I was crying, so he held my hand and did some healing stuff I don't totally understand, but it helped," you explain quickly, hoping to save Yeosangs head from winding up on a stick.

"Aw, why were you sad?" Hongjoongs tone flips immediately as he helps you sit upright, dusting the dirt off of your back. Seonghwa sits down next to you both, ignoring all the furniture in favor of being on your level.

"Cause I- my wolf, she missed you..." You admit with a hushed voice, shifting under their intense eyes.

Something hits them after you say that. Hits their noses.

Underneath Yeosangs strong alpha scent is you. More specifically, your arousal.

"Oh," Hongjoong smirks, "she missed us, huh?"

"Come." Seonghwa stands up quickly and grabs the door knob before turning back and picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of feathers, "not fast enough." He growls as he opens the door, ignoring your (light) protests, and ignores every thing and every one else as he carries you through the house and up the stairs; all the while Hongjoong follows with a aura of... something that can only be described as manic hunger.

You land on the bed, and the brunette is above you before you even know what's happening. He straddles your chest and grabs your hand; grimacing at the smell of another wolf on you before nuzzling his cheek all over it. You almost gape at the sight of him rubbing against your hand like a cat, but his blond paramour distracts you — tugging away your pants with one fell swoop.

You gasp as your slick soaked panties are exposed, the cold air that hits you has no business feeling so good. You cross your legs with an embarrassed whine, only for them to be pried right back open.

"Don't hide, Dolly~" Hongjoong coos, trailing his nails up your legs teasingly.

"They'll smell i-"

"Let them."

You can't argue with them, not when they've got you this worked up over such simple things. You take a deep breath before you do something you haven't in a long time, you let your wolf drive all of your actions.

You take your wrist out of Seonghwa's control and slide it all along his neck, allowing yourself to purr as the foreign scent is overwhelmed by your mates.

And overwhelmed it was, completely washed away and replaced by the mixed scents of the duo by the end of the night.

˚➶ ｡˚

The next day, breakfast goes about the same. It's less awkward, more flowing conversation. It's just you, your alphas, and San by the time a car horn blares outside.

"Ah, that's Jongho, he's taking us to Greene's territory so we can finalize our plan," Seonghwa speaks as he reaches across the table and goes to put more food on your plate.

"Oh, I'm not hungry," you shake your head with a polite hand out to stop him, "thank you, though."

"You've barely eaten," Hongjoong points out with a frown, looking up from where he was filing his claws. He points with one of them dramatically, "you eat. You're still in heat."

"Maybe it's settled down, I don't have much of an appetite."

"But we still haven't knotted y-"

"I'll take your plates! You should get going!" You cut him off with a heat rising in your cheeks, "you have zero tact."

"That's not a word!" He yells after you before looking toward Seonghwa, who's clearly just as confused and concerned. "Is that normal?" He turns to San, "no, right?"

"No, heats don't just go away, especially fresh off of blockers and fresh mated." San has a thoughtful look, watching as you clean the plates.

"Keep an eye on her," Seonghwa orders the beta, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

˚➶ ｡˚

You sit up with a sharp cry, tumbling off of the bed and onto the hardwood as you continue to fight your nightmare.

Downstairs, Yeosang flinches from the loud noise; dropping the basket of eggs Cheonsa was handing over.

Yunho, the designated leader in the alpha's absence, snaps into action. He leaps from his place on the couch and dashes up the stairs, telling commands all the while. "San, Wooyoung, check the borders! Cheonsa, hold up in the basement! Everyone else check the house!"

Immediately, two wolves are above you. In your nightmare induced panic, you don't register that they are Yunho and Mingi.

You slap away the hands that come towards you, fighting yourself into the corner, where you pull your knees to your chest and hide.

"Hey..." Yunho whispers slowly, lowering himself to your level, "hey, you're okay." He takes a shaky breath and lets it out as a sigh. "Mingi, go and get some water, will you?"

With a nod, Mingi is running to carry out his orders.

As your panic subsides, pain fills its place. A deep pinch in your stomach and a wave of unbearable heat across your entire body. You look around with wide eyes, searching for your alphas.

"Where-" you double over and groan, claws digging into the nightstand, "alpha?"

"I don't- I don't know, they were supposed to be back-"

"Where is my alphas?!" You bare your teeth at him, forcing a growl back down your throat as you see the kind man flinch. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Yunho. But something is wrong!" You wail as a pain akin to being punched in the stomach hits you.

"Yeosang!" It's your turn to jump as he yells out the open door.

Your cries carry through the home, nothing but raw panic and pain.

You see a blur of green, but that's all before your blurry vision gives out and leads you into darkness.

˚➶ ｡˚

"Heat build up? I didn't even know that's a thing..." Wooyoung sighs, leaning against the doorway of the alphas bedroom.

You're laid on the bed in a fitful unconsciousness, Mingi and Cheonsa working carefully to build a nest around you out of your mates clothes. "It's horrible," Mingi whispers, "I had it once, I should have seen this coming..."

"It's no one's fault," Cheonsa contrasts, leaning back and resting her hands on her belly. "It's a messy situation."

"Yeah, you could say that again," Lia quips with a pout as she turns a fan to face you.

"I can't heal it?" Yeosang asks again, biting at the skin around his nails.

"No," San and Mingi both reply, and the ladder continues; speaking from experience, "she needs to mate to get rid of it."

"Where the hell are those knot heads?" Wooyoung grumbles, fishing in his pocket. He pulls out a blunt and a lighter earning a look from Cheonsa.

"Is now really the time?"

"I'm stressed out, okay?!"

Your nose twitches in your sleep as he lights it, and as he begins to smoke it, your eyes peek open with a hopefully groan of, "Seonghwa?"

"Hey, sweetie," Cheonsa greets you softly as you wake, "how are you feeling?"

You curl up on your self and look for the source of the familiar smell, eyes landing on Wooyoung. "What is that?"

"Ah, weed?" He answers like it's a question.

"Want it, please?" You whine, eyes filling with tears. Seonghwa isn't here. Hongjoong isn't here. This is the next best thing, in your pain addled mind. Maybe it will taste like their kisses.

"Yeah, yeah of course," he approaches slowly and carefully hands it over, all of them watching as you hesitantly wrap your lips around it and breathe in. You barely get enough to have it on your taste buds, but it's enough to trick your wolf into believing it's one of Seonghwa's fleeting pecks or Hongjoong's dominating french kisses.

And that's enough to put you back to sleep for the time being.

˚➶ ｡˚

When you wake again, you can't stand the heat of the house; even with windows open to let in the breeze and a fan pointed at the sweat-soaked bed.

You allow San to carry you outside, although his touch burns your body. The relief of the cool summer breeze on your heated skin is worth it.

You lay on the porch, tucking a jacket that smells equally like the alphas under your head.

"Where are they..." You whine as another wave of pain settles in your gut, "they said it would be quick, they've been gone all day!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be back any time."

"How can you know that?"

"I know them."

You leave it at that, listening to natures nightlife in silence between other members of the pack coming to check on you.

It must be hours later. Others stopped coming and going a bit ago. The moon is high in the sky.

Even the bugs seem quieter.

"What the fuck is that smell?!" A bellowing shout nearly had you breaking your jelly-like bones to stand.

"Alpha!" You nearly screech, diving right into Seonghwa, wrapping your arms around him and scenting all over his chest — the dry blood splatter completely lost on you.

"Omega-" He can barely get a word out before you change targets and give Hongjoong the same treatment, also completely ignoring Jongho.

"Where the hell have you been?" San sighs a breath of relief, slumping in his chair where he'd faithfully been watching over you through all the hours of the night. "She has heat build up, she scared the shit out of us!"

"Greene spotted us so we improvised, took him out on the spot but his men blew our tires- heat build up?" Seonghwa's eyes darken, looking over to where you cling to Hongjoong.

His mixture of adrenaline, bloodlust, and the effects of his upcoming rut proves to be a deadly combination.

He snatches you from the younger alpha and growls as he pushes you to the wall of the house. "You stupid omega, I should have knotted you the second I was free. Do you know how dangerous heat build up can be?"

San shrinks up on himself as he hears the rumble in his leaders voice, quickly entering the house and gesturing for Jongho to follow.

"Dolly," Hongjoong begins with a similarly dark tone, "are you finally ready? Just say the word and we can make it all better~."

"Oh, please, yes-" Your words turn into muffled moans as Seonghwa's lips collide with yours roughly. He tastes like copper and cinnamon sugar as he forces his tongue into your mouth. You gladly grant him entrance, closing your eyes and opening your mouth to kiss him back just as passionately.

Hongjoong slides behind you, sandwiching you between them. The aching in your body is beginning to melt into a deep longing, a burning primal urge. A loud moan comes up your throat and into Seonghwa mouth as Hongjoong slips a hand into your shorts.

You blink your eyes open as Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes deep red and his claws cradling your face. "Why'd you stop?"

"You taste like smoke," he observes, his hips having a mind of their own as they press to yours; subsequently grinding his bulge against Hongjoong's hand that's toying with you.

"It tastes like you, I missed you," you admit plainly, which earns a smirk from him as he looks down at the way your hips grind subconsciously.

"Poor Omega," Hongjoong purrs from behind you, "you're soaking my hand, this all for us?" You whine a 'yes' as his hand leaves your heat, watching closely with wide eyes as he brings his dripping fingers to the older alphas mouth.

He takes the offering, eagerly. Licking and slurping your essence from every bit of his hand, moaning all the while you continue to watch and grind.

"Please, Alpha," you cry, claws slicing his shirt as you clings to him and pull him closer. He either ignores or doesn't notice your pleas until you whimper, "mate."

His tongue pauses, as does the fingers prodding at it. Both of them are on the same wavelength, working wordlessly in tandem. Seonghwa lifts you by your waist, allowing Hongjoong to easily swoop you up into a bridal hold.

He looks down at you as he carries you quickly to the room, smiling almost wholesomely. "What a pretty mate Selene gave us~."

He lowers you into the mess of clothes on the bed, the nest you'd fixed up between fits of unconsciousness. The sound of fabric slicing makes you jump, and you notice then that Seonghwa has ripped your clothes from top to bottom in one single swipe. They work together to completely rid you of your clothes, one lifting while the other pulls away the torn fabric that offends them by shielding your body. Like they've done this a million times before, they work in fluid unison. And you simply let them, watching and admiring.

You whine once more as Seonghwa stands, beckoning him to come back. "Shhh," Hongjoong shushes you gently, lowering himself to lay next to you. He drapes a leg around yours, prying your legs further open. "Don't you worry, Dolly," he leaves soft kisses all over the side of your neck — his side, he thinks. He laps over the healing mark he's left while his hand finds your wetness once again. "Your mates will take good care of you."

With no resistance at all, two of his fingers find their way inside of you, curling right up on that spongey spot that makes you gasp as stars fill your vision. "Hongjoong!" You let out his name in a shaking howl as he keeps his fingers pressing against that beautiful bundle of nerves, slowly harder and harder and- "fuck!" You cry as a wave of pleasure crashes into you.

You barely hear Seonghwa chuckle over your own panting and whining, Hongjoong similarly letting out a soft laugh as he wraps his free arm around your shoulders.

You blink your blurry eyes, letting the blondes face come into focus above you. "Feeling better already, 'Mega?"

"M-more," you whisper needily, humping down on his fingers with reckless abandon.

"Don't you worry, gorgeous," Seonghwa comes into your view from the other side of the bed, making the mattress dip and drive you further onto the fingers that scissor inside of you. "We'll give you more, give you everything you need. You want a knot, hm?"

He coos darkly as you nod desperately, eyes widening as you take in his naked figure, "knot, yes! Yes, yes, please!"

"You want two knots?" Hongjoong muses, slipping another finger into your core with close to zero effort, making you arch your back to try and suck him deeper.

"Need them! I need you!" Your words are jumbled and fast, but they latch onto every syllable and commit them to memory.

"Hmm~" Seonghwa blinks at you with his red eyes burning into your soul, and you don't look away. "Can a little Omega like you take a rutting Alphas knot?" His words are teasing, but make you pout all the same.

Hongjoong is giggling like he's watching a comedy, like he's not bringing you ever closer to another orgasm, as you babble and beg. "I can! I can! Please, Seonghwa!"

"I might break you-"

"Oh, do it! Please!"

He trails his claws across your cheek with an adoring glint in his eyes before he speaks, "how can I say no to that?"

With the promise of his knot, you let your pleasure crest once more, digging your own claws into the fabric below you as you mewl loudly.

You distantly feel Hongjoong withdraw, a soft grumble of protest leaving you as his body warmth disappears. It's quickly replaced by Seonghwa's as he climbs ontop of you. A soft tap on your cheek makes you realize you've closed your eyes, and you peek them open to face him.

"This is your last chance to back out, Starlight," the new nickname makes your head spin and your heart flutter. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes flicking between red and brown. "Once I'm inside of you, my wolf won't let me stop."

Hongjoong climbs back onto the bed with his clothes discarded, settling himself behind your head. He gently pets Seonghwa's messy hair back, gazing between the two of you.

"I need-" You stop yourself when your wolf corrects you, "I want you." You peek to the other alpha, "both of you. I have to have you."

"And have us you will," Hongjoong leans and kisses Seonghwa, making the man lurch forward to kiss him back passionately. You moan softly as you watch them, finding yourself clenching around nothing. "Elders first," he pulls back with a teasing quip, tracing down his neck to the years old mark, "unless you want me to-"

"I will throw you out the window," Seonghwa deadpans.

"Fair enough," Hongjoong chuckles before leaning back to give him space. Even he knows when to stop poking the proverbial bear. That bear, in this instance, being an alpha in a rut — a first born, at that. He may be his mate, but so are you, and he knows his wolf is fighting tooth and claw to knot with the pretty omega that bares his mark; because his wolf is too.

"C'mere," Seonghwa growls deeply, yanking you to the middle of the bed by your hips and making you yelp in surprise. "You're gonna be a good mate, take it all?" You nod quickly, desperately, wiggling your hips.

He groans as he has to lean down to rub his tip against your weeping heat, eyes flicking as his wolf howls for a better position. He has to stop himself from moving too quickly, claws still out and proud. He tenderly grabs the back of your thighs before ruthlessly folding you in half and bringing your hips up to what he deems an acceptable level.

You let out a fleeting gasp, quickly replaced by a sigh of relief as he pops his tip into your awaiting hole.

"Hold her," he orders as his eyes trace every inches of your body.

Hongjoong quickly complies, warm hands squishing down on the back of your thighs with a purr. He watches with eyes taken over by black as Seonghwa inches his hips forward; cherishing and savoring every slow moment as he fills you with a snaillike pace.

You're sure you'll explode from the pure euphoria that races through your body as he stretches your walls, making you moan and whine and flutter around him.

As his hips finally still, a deep rumbling sound comes from the depths of his chest.

You, in all of your pleasure filled delirium, don't notice it as you pant and moan, sucking in sharp breaths as you feel your core molding itself to fit him perfectly.

Hongjoong, however, has his ears tuned in to pick up on any little noise either of you make; so he lifts his head from its place in the crook of your neck to be sure he isn't hearing thing that aren't there.

You let out a soft whine as his body warmth leaves its place by your side, and similarly look up to the eldest alpha.

You blink up at him and tilt your head; and another deep rumble comes from the man.

"Baby," Hongjoong glances at Seonghwa's blissed out face, his eyes sparkling, "you're purring?"

He says it almost like a question, but it's most certainly a statement. The sound is weak and clumsy, but it's undeniably purring.

"Shut up," Seonghwa growls between his teeth, breathing heavily. He places his clawed hands over Hongjoong's, pressing your legs to your chest rougher. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head against your calf, another purr leaving his inked neck.

"Seonghwa?" You whisper, making his eyes snap open.

He looks completely enraptured, like he's almost forgotten where he is, as he rakes his eyes over you once again.

"I was right, I should have done this a long time ago."

"Wha- oh fuck!" You shriek as he suddenly and without warning begins to pound into you. Your feet sway and bounce, your back arches off the bed, your jaw pried open with embarrassingly loud sounds of carnality. You bring both of your hands to your mouth to dull your noises, the heat on your face now burning all the way to your ears as the realization dawns on you that all the members of the pack might very well be woken up by the sound of the alphas ravishing your insides.

The both of them growl, Seonghwa much louder than Hongjoong; who moves to grab your wrists.

He pauses his rhythm to lean over your folded up figure, slotting himself under your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, as Hongjoong pins your hands above your head. "Don't you try and hide from us," he groans deeply, sniffing at your neck. "Aww, she's embarrassed," he looks down at you while chuckling darkly, "don't be embarrassed, Love."

Your jaw drops as he starts his movements again, this time slow and intentional. "They all know you're in heat," he hums into your jaw before giving it a teasing lick. He leans up to gaze down at you, nails digging into your skin as he holds himself back.

"And they all know we're fucking~" Hongjoong adds with a smirk as he traces one of his hands all the way down your body, "might as well let them know how well we do it, right, Alpha?" He meets eyes with Seonghwa, and the onslaught of pleasure returns ten fold.

Seonghwa is pumping into you ruthlessly, the sound of wetness and skin on skin echoing with your wails of elation. Hongjoongs nimble fingers play with your clit like he's an expert on your body. And all you can do is writhe and moan; trapped beneath them in a whirlpool of lust.

"Please, please, please," is the only word in your vocabulary until, "Alpha!"

You howl as the tension inside of you snaps and releases a gushing wave of slick onto the alphas' pelvis and hand. The heat is like you've been filled with a million blinking stars, unlike anything you've ever felt before.

The blinding pleasure knocks you out of control and has your omega taking over, and you don't even realize the words that come from your own lips. "Knot me! Please! Oh, please, Alpha! I want your pups!"

Your pleading sobs have Hongjoongs neglected member twitching and leaking, standing at full attention while he watches his mates fuck like a pair of rabbits.

They have a similar effect on Seonghwa, whose wolf begs him to do as you ask. He manages to tear his eyes away from your fucked-out face and towards his other precious mate. "Fuck," he growls under his breath. He gives you one last good slam before withdrawing from you, making you sob.

"No, no! Please, Seonghwa! Akma!" It takes all of his years of training his wolf not to bust out and knot your perfect body as you cry his name.

You fidget and grind your hips in an attempt to get him back, but it's futile. "Shhh," he coos, clawed hand cradling your cheek and pushing it gently so you face the other alpha, "you'll get both of our knots by the end of this heat, I promise, Darling. But look at our Joongie, he needs some loving, huh?"

You focus your eyes on the younger alpha, eyes flicking everywhere around his body with pure adoration until they land on his member. It's leaking on his stomach, rising and falling with his heavy breaths as he controls himself. "Uh-huh," you agree with Seonghwa with a half-there answer, licking your lips subconsciously.

He moves away from you, letting your legs unfold from your body. "Have at her, Baby," he smirks as he hears his boy dive into you and begins kissing you sloppily. And then he settles himself with his back on the headboard to watch, fisting his own member slowly to keep his wolf appeased.

Hongjoong is half on top of you, forcing his tongue into your awaiting mouth as his hands fondle your breasts with a mind of their own. His hips, similarly, move to grind his cock against your leg without his knowledge. Now that Seonghwa has given him permission, the lower ranking alpha is buzzing with excitement and anticipation, slowly sinking deeper and deeper into his wolf's control.

You gasp and pant as he finally pulls away, his lips finding purpose in sucking little marks into your neck and shoulders that soon resemble a galaxy with how many he's leaving in his wake. "Joongie, please mate me," the soft pleading moan with his nickname makes him freeze.

"Present for me." He blurts with a newfound obsession in his mind. "Will you do that for me, Dolly?"

You blink. Once, twice. As you think. Presenting to a mate, especially to your alpha, is a big deal... Putting yourself in a completely vulnerable position and saying with that action that you trusted the other wolf to take care of you fully. Not just sexually, while of course that was part of it, but in every sense of the word. It's a vulnerable position, and putting yourself in that position says you put yourself fully in the others hands.

They watch with bated breath as your mind moves a million miles an hour. Seonghwa knocks his foot against your arm, "you don't have to if you aren't ready, Gorgeous."

Hongjoong nearly jumps out of his skin when you move under him, and he backs up to give you room, not wanting to spook you into stopping.

You turn yourself over, gazing up at Seonghwa as you settle yourself between his legs. You rest your head on his hip and close your eyes blissfully as you move to kneel. Your shoulders rest lower on his legs, slumping yourself with nothing but your bottom in the air. Then you move your hands behind your back, wrists crossed and ready to be held.

"Knot me, Alpha," you whisper lustfully.

Seonghwa is almost jealous that he didn't think to ask you to present first — be he knows he'll get his chance. Their poor little Omega, on blockers for so long and suddenly having it out made your heat bad enough. And then heat sickness multiplied it by a hundred. He'd be surprised if you allow them to leave the bed at all for at least two weeks. Really, he has to commend your willpower.

But right now, he can only admire how beautiful you are, especially as you submit to his mate fully.

Said mate is nearly bouncing off the walls, chest puffed out pridefully as he savors every second that he looks at you. Art truly imitates life, he thinks as he finds himself wishing that he could capture this moment in a sculpture, in a painting, even a measly photograph would suffice.

He feels a pang in his gut and growls loudly, eyes stuck in a pure black void as he comes up behind you. His wolf is clawing at the walls of his enclosure, and he doesn't have the strength to fight him anymore. He lets the beast take control of his body.

He's speared you open on his member before you even register that he's behind you, uncontrollable moans spilling past your lips and pilling up on Seonghwa's hip in the form of drool. When Hongjoongs clawed hands encase your wrists tenderly, you're a goner.

Over your own babbles of ecstasy and mindless profanity, you don't take in the words he's saying. You can tell he's being just as talkative as you, praises upon praises purred toward you as he uses his grip on your arms to pull you back into his frantic thrusts.

What finally makes you and your wolf listen is his deep rumble, followed by dark chuckle. "Oh, oh fuck~ Our pretty puppy sent me into an early rut," he mewls, eyes looking back into his head as your heat burns so pleasantly around his previously neglected member.

If it's the pet name or the words along with it, you can't tell, but you shake with an unexpected and sudden orgasm, soaking his legs and dripping on the sheets as you wail.

"Oh you like that?" Seonghwa chirps, petting your sweaty hair away from your face, "little puppy likes being told how good she is for her Alphas?"

You nod frantically, huffing and puffing to catch your breath as Hongjoong and his relentless wolf refuse to give you even a brief respite. Though your pussy feels like it can't take anymore pleasure, your omega brain knows it can and will. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit, and Hongjoong can feel it pulsing around him.

He drops your hands and you let them fall boneless, allowing the wolf you presented yourself to do as he pleases. His claws find a home on your hips, just barely scratching you as he holds you in place to repeatedly stuff you to your limit. "Fuck," he begins growing and purring nonstop, switching between the two as pleasure completely clouds his mind.

Seonghwa laces his fingers into yours, holding your hands tightly as you get your insides reshaped. You're mouthing and nipping at his hip, your eyes —when not screwed shut from the overwhelming pressure building in you once more— are glazed over and glowing. Not that barely there glow of an omega. No, not like that at all. They burn bright and blink like the stars that Selene handcrafted. Starlight begins to fit you more and more, he thinks with a grin.

"Look at you, Starlight," his praises continue, "taking a big bad alphas rutting cock." The words make your face burn hotter, how is it even possible? He knows his dirty talk has heavy effects on you, almost as much effects as Hongjoong dragging and knocking against that spongey spot inside of you that he found earlier. With every. Single. Thrust.

"You're gonna make me pop a knot early, Dolly," the blonde chimes in as well, making your cunt twitch in anticipation. He bends down and kisses across the scars on your back, purring something softer that makes your heart thrum with something different, "our Omega is such a warrior."

With those gentle words of admiration spoken while he has you in such a dominated position, you feel a burst of emotion blooming in your chest; making you cry out.

They feel it too, you realize as Hongjoongs hips stutter and Seonghwa's eyes grow soft with love.

You've finally let them in completely...

Mind, body, soul, and wolf.

You feel like a piece of thread, being woven in with them. You can feel their emotions, their intentions of protecting and providing for you. You feel the deep possessiveness they hold in their hearts for you. And you feel their power rushing through your veins.

All of these things, all at once.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around your chest from behind, staying deep inside of you; but you can barely feel it because something is deeper than that — the feeling of your souls being tied together, bound by the moon that shines in through the window, shining with pride at its job well done bringing you to your alphas. Bringing you to your fated pack. It shimmers, bathing you and your mates in its ethereal light. You finally feel something you've never felt before.

You felt like you were home.

Not a place, or a pillow to rest your head on at night. No, that's not home.

Home is the scent of happy wolves mingling in the living room. Home is serving each other at dinner. It's Cheonsa's warm aura, Lia and Jonghos chubby cheeks making their eyes wrinkle when they smile. Home is Wooyoungs humorous cackle, and San's watchful eye. Home feels like the softness in Yeosangs eyes as he takes his members pain. Home is like the fierceness with which Yunho snapped into action to protect the pack when he heard you cry. Home is the pack taking care of you after only a few days of knowing you.

Above all, though... Home is Seonghwa and Hongjoong. The smell of smoke lingering with the eldest alphas signature salted carmel. Roasted hazelnut coming so strongly off of the younger than you can almost taste it. The two of them mixing together to create a sweet scent that you want to drown in.

It's Seonghwa's fierce possessive nature, and the small smile he has when you interact with his hand-picked pack.

It's Hongjoongs ever present manic glee and giggles, the way he tries so hard to make you feel at home.

It's the feeling of their claws caressing you with care, holding themselves back so as not to harm you. The weight of Hongjoong on your back, protecting your body as you're far off in your own head. The reassuring squeeze Seonghwa gives your hands and the smile tugging at his lips as he feels your bond being completed. The way they give you time to process all of this, and so much more. Their patience with you even as their wolves howl incessantly.

Seeing you come back to yourself, Seonghwa slowly stops the soft pets he gave your head and smiles, "welcome home, Starlight."

Hongjoong peeks at you from behind, a smile gleaming in the moonlight. Pride overflowing from his very being at the fact that he got your last wall down and helped to complete the bond.

You have a smile of your own gracing your features as you look from Hongjoong back to Seonghwa, finally answering his question from days ago.

"I can feel you."

˚➶ ｡˚ ALLURE ˚➶ ｡˚

˚➶ ｡˚ EPILOGUE ˚➶ ｡˚

The kitchen and dining room is as lively as ever as Seonghwa carries you down from the third floor for the first time in three weeks. Everyone moves to work together seamlessly and set the table, the record player in the living turned up loud. "Hey, guys," he greets as you enter, "look who's back in business."

Everyone pauses. But it's not like before. It's not awkward or tense. Everyone has a smile on their face as they see you for the first time in almost a month.

Compared to last time they saw you, you were positively glowing. Not a trace of pain or anxiety on your face. Your scent didn't burn anyone's noses, instead it wafted gently and calmed them- much like the other pack omegas did.

"Hey," you smile sheepishly, looking down at the table as Seonghwa sits you down.

"Ah, praise Selene!" Cheonsa yelled with a laugh as she tackled you from the side in a hug.

Lia came up on the other side of you, similarly embracing you, "we thought you'd never come down! We were stuck with these guys again it was horrible!"

"Hey!" Wooyoung yelled offendedly before throwing you a smile as he handed you a full plate.

"Thank you," you smiled kindly, one hand on each of the women's arms as they refused to let go of you.

"C'mon, let the girl eat," Yunho swatted them away with the newspaper he held, shooting you a lopsided smile of his own.

Everyone settles in their seats, and peace overcomes you at the table with the members that you can feel through your minds.

Hongjoong comes bouncing down the stairs with a pep in his step, towel around his neck to catch the droplets of water that slide off his hair. "You left without me!"

"The food smelled too good, I couldn't wait anymore!" You argue, pouting as you sip some juice.

Seonghwa hides his prideful grin by taking a bite of his own. Not even a month ago, you couldn't smell the food from your bedroom no matter how hard you tried, and today it was what finally lured you out of the nest you've made of their bed.

"Aw, how could I stay mad at that face?" He coos, cupping your jaw to kiss you passionately.

"Zero tact," Mingi whispers to Yeosang, who nods.

Hongjoong pulls back with his eyebrows pushed together, "that is not a word!"

...

Minutes later, Jongho is leaned over a dictionary, and everyone crowded around him, some having placed bets.

"Oh there it is!" San shouts, "it is a word!"

"Tact: to talk or act carefully so as not to offend or disturb others," Lia reads with a chuckle.

"Damn," Wooyoung slumps, digging in his pocket and slapping down a five dollar bill into Yunhos awaiting palm.

"Told you," Mingi quips with a roll of his eyes, "Hongjoong has zero."

"You little brat!" A chase ensues around the kitchen, joyous laughter filling the room.

You rest your chin on your hand and watch fondly. You see Seonghwa do the same out of the corner of your eye, watching your mate chase the other omega around the table full of smiling faces.

Yeah. You think. This is home.

˚➶ ｡˚ THANK YOU FOR READING ˚➶ ｡˚

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #yandere hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #yandere seonghwa #hongjoong smau #yandere ateez x reader #yandere ateez #yandere werewolf #yandere x reader #yandere fic #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #smut fic #allure

410 notes · View notes

pinkpurplesunrises · 10 days ago

Text

3:37 AM (And None of My Organs Are Where They Should Be) - the short story - Alexia Putellas x Pregnant!Reader - because you all loved the other one so much, I couldn't help to write one more...

It’s 3:37 AM.

You know this because you've been staring at the glowing red numbers on the bedside clock like it personally wronged you.

You shift to your left.

Nope. Immediate regret. Baby-on-bladder combo says: "Nice try, fool."

You turn to your right.

Okay. Slightly better. Except now there's a stabbing pain in your back that feels like a 900-year-old goblin is poking you with a stick and whispering "you’re ancient now."

You flip onto your back.

Ha. HAHAHA. Who are you kidding? That was banned three months ago by your OB, Alexia, and your own lungs.

You groan. Loudly.

There’s a shuffle beside you. The rustle of sheets. A sleepy, concerned voice:

“Amor?”

Alexia. Half-asleep. Full-worried. Sounding like someone just told her you went into labor in the middle of a Champions League final.

“I can’t get comfortable,” you whine. Not just whine. Whaaaaiiine. Like a distressed dolphin.

Alexia props herself up on one elbow. “Didn’t we build you a pillow fortress before bed?”

You look down.

Yes. Yes, you did. There are five pillows under various parts of your body: one between your knees, one under the belly, one behind your back, one hugging your chest, and one... who knows. Possibly sentient and planning a coup.

“Your fortress is failing,” you grumble. “I think I’ve merged with it. I’m either a person or a beanbag now. Unclear.”

Alexia blinks blearily at you, then sits up, gently rubbing your shoulder. “Want me to get you more pillows?”

“I don’t need more pillows, I need a new spine. Or a better gravity. Just turn gravity off. You’re Alexia Putellas, can’t you do that now?”

She laughs, soft and scratchy with sleep. “If I could turn off gravity, I’d float us to a spa in the Maldives.”

“God. Yes. Let’s go. Right now. I’m not even joking. I’d pay one million fake euros.”

“You don’t have one million fake euros.”

“I don’t even have clean socks, Alexia. Don’t make this about economics.”

She’s smiling now. Fully awake. Reaching behind her to grab the lavender pillow spray that neither of you believe in but always use anyway because it smells like you’re about to be hypnotized into sleep. She gives your pillow a few spritzes.

You lie back down. She gently helps rearrange the pillow-under-belly with a kind of practiced choreography. You’d both gotten absurdly good at the pregnant pillow shuffle. Which honestly deserves an Olympic event.

Then Alexia does the one thing that still makes your entire soul melt. she starts tracing little shapes on your arm with her fingers.

“You know,” she says quietly, “you’ve handled this pregnancy like a champion.”

You grunt. “I’ve cried over a dropped sandwich, yelled at a pigeo and almost fought a toddler for the last mango popsicle at Mercadona.”

“That toddler shoved you,” she replies, very seriously. “I saw it.”

You turn to her, eyes wide. “Thank you. I knew I wasn’t imagining it.”

Silence settles for a second. Then you add:

“Also, I think my rib is broken from the baby doing ninja flips.”

Alexia leans down and kisses your forehead. “Maybe they’ll be a gymnast. Or a defender with sharp elbows.”

“I want them to be a librarian who sits down a lot.”

She laughs again. Wrapping her arm around you gently. Careful not to disturb your elaborate pillow nest. “We’ll tell them they were born under a full moon and several orthopedic nightmares.”

“And that their mom scored a header the day after I threw up on her cleats.”

“You always bring that up.”

“I threw up on your cleats, babe. That’s love.”

She kisses your temple. “You’re the love of my life.”

You close your eyes, finally. Finally. Finding a position that isn’t 100% suffering.

And as you drift toward sleep... still a little uncomfortable. Still very pregnant. Still wondering if your ankles will ever reappear. You feel Alexia’s fingers gently moving across your arm. Tracing out letters.

You smile.

Because you know she’s writing "T-E-Q-U-I-E-R-O", over and over again. Just like she did back when you first started dating. Long before babies and pillow forts and 3:37 AM existential crises.

Love. In the quietest, weirdest, realest way.

#woso community #woso writers #woso x reader #woso #fc barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #fc barcelona femeni x reader #woso imagine #my short story #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

351 notes · View notes

yeloenk · 14 days ago

Text

WOOO PARABLE!!!! redesign yay!!!!!

im gonna go more in depth for exemplum and parable's redesigns in this post -- it'll be under the cut!

DISCLAIMER!!! this is NOT to bash CS.MT or their designs at all! this is all something i did for fun and nostalgia/love of the AU.

——————

when first sketching out some design ideas for the two, i had long forgotten they were redesigned by CS.MT themselves in 2021! these designs are a HUGE upgrade from the old ones, but i do think they could be better from a character design standpoint.

this is the two parable designs by CS.MT side by side. the one on the right is absolutely a huge improvement, and honestly, the one i have the least changes to.

in my redesign, i brought back the original crow elements the first one had, since he's meant to be based off one. i gave him back his black wings with lighter speckles, along with the addition of crow feet/legs! i thought it was pretty cool that his 2021 design has bird feet, but they're chicken feet, not crow feet. which, doesn't make much sense when considering the animal he's supposed to be based off of. it also appears that his legs have two sections, instead of three? i can't exactly tell with the pants, but i tried to make it more obvious his legs are three bones instead of two.

i also have an issue with the piece of fabric covering his tail feathers. the tail feathers are very important for flying, allowing birds to keep balance and steer themselves in the air. so, draping a thick fabric over it doesn't make sense to me. i kept the drapery around his waist, just removing the back fabric.

i decided to change up their other clothing a bit as well! i made the browns more saturated, which is just a personal preference, since i love warmer colors. i added back the swirls in his original design onto his pants, since i thought they were really cute and added visual interest! i also gave him a belt with the colors of their vials, just to add more color to his design. honestly i couldn't find a way to properly include his vials being on them without it looking funky, so i imagine he would keep them at their nest to be safe.

i also added pockets to the belt for them to collect shiny things! crows love shiny things, so i think parable would collect them and bring them back to the nest he shares with the crows.

that's really all i have to say for parable -- other parts should be self explanatory!

now, moving on to exemplum. his design is the one i had the most issues with.

the 2021 design is definitely an improvement in aesthetics, pose, and general outfit design -- however, the character design itself does not convey what it should.

exemplum is meant to be based off a moon jellyfish, a vibrant blue sea creature. he's also meant to live in the water, for the majority of his life. neither the first or second design convey that very well with the dry-land clothes, however, i do think the first design is better in a way.

the colors & shape language of the clothes say "jellyfish guy who lives in the sea" more than his new clothes. i like the way the top poncho (?) piece of clothing resembles the jellyfish's dome, while the strings trail out like it's stingers. the swirls also remind me of ocean waves, as well as the wavy eyelight and eye strings. in comparison, the newer design feels a lot more bland, and the only thing that could possibly tell you he's meant to be a jellyfish creature living in the sea is the arm strings—which, if you know about error sans, could come across as anything but jellyfish stingers! this is not a good thing, unless that was possibly the point of the design? though, i don't think it was.

this is my redesign of him!

first thing that i HAD to change was the arm strings. i made them into actual jellyfish stingers, with long frills and shorter strings at the top (in reference to the moon jellyfish itself!). i switched his eyelight back to the swirly one, as well as his eye strings.

moving on to the clothes, these desperately needed a massive overhaul. exemplum lives in the sea, meaning he would NOT wear a lot of fabric, since there's no need to & it would be a huge inconvenience while swimming around. i removed the bandages too, since those didn't make any sense to me either. i gave him a pair of loose-fabric pants that he stitched together himself instead, as well as a rope belt and some gold chains for decoration. i added back the vibrant blues and swirls of his old design onto his pants, to resemble the ocean waves. since i removed his scarf, i instead put the "assasin" symbol as a tattoo on his sternum!

i also changed up the colors of his bones a little, making them more purple-pinkish to mesh together better. i made the colors much more vibrant than his 2021 design, because i think they look really cool with underwater creature designs! they're meant to serve as a warning to other creatures as well, to not mess with him, similar to how poisonous animals are typically brightly colored.

to top this off, i gave him spotted turtle feet! they are semi-aquatic guys that can live on both land and sea, so i thought that would make sense for exemplum instead of having normal skeleton feet. plus, if parable gets animalistic feet, i think exemplum should as well :-) just for fun, i gave him a turtle tail, too.

here are the two redesigns side-by-side!! if you have any thoughts to add, feel free to!! i'm very happy with how these came out.

Exemplum & Parable by CS.MT

#utmv #undertale #undertale au #utmv fanart #ink sans #sans undertale #underverse #error sans #exemplum!error #parable!ink #errorink #error x ink #parable x exemplum #exemplum x parable #cs mt #character design #character redesigns #character design is my passion can you tell #LMFAO

338 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 8 months ago

Note

vampire!james is such a fun concept!

what about if reader was a newly turned vampire too and James lets her feed on him

like the scene with elena feeding on damon in TVD?

because blood sharing is intimate :P

Hi lovely! I don’t really remember what this was like in TVD because I last watched that show probably 10 years ago and I don’t think I finished it but hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood, feels mature at times but no smut (vampires are just hot idk)

vampire!James x fledgling!reader ♡ 1k words

James hates seeing you like this. He remembers what it feels like—being aware for the first time of every nerve ending in your body, your mind whirring at a thousand miles a minute, everything worse and louder and so much more than it had felt when you were human.

He’d warned you the transition would be like this, but you’d wanted it anyway. You keep trying to act like you’re alright even now, trembling from head to toe in the corner of the bed, eyes darting towards every sound and movement like your body thinks you’re under attack. The three bags of blood you’d gotten from the butcher lie empty on the floor. Normally James only needs one every few days, but this is one thing he’d forgotten about the transition, he supposes. The hunger is intense. He won’t be able to get you more for at least a few hours.

“Sweetheart,” James says softly. You still flinch as though he’s shouted. “You should try to go to sleep. It’ll help with the cravings.”

“I don’t think I can.” Your lisp is sort of cute. You haven’t been able to retract your fangs yet, have pricked your own lip more than once. “I can hear so many hearts. They’re loud.”

James nods. He’s learned to tune them out, like the hum of electricity or the rush of wind outside, but he knows what you mean. If he focuses, he can listen to the beating heart of the bird nesting in the tree by your window, the neighbor’s cat, the woman who lives at the end of your street. Sometimes they seem synchronized together, the unceasing, steady beat of life in the world. It gets louder when he’s starving.

“The butcher won’t be open until morning,” he tells you, though you know already. You nod, wrapping your arms around your legs. “But I can try to help, if you want. You could try feeding from me.”

It’s an idea James has been toying with since you said you wanted to turn. He doesn’t think you could survive off each other forever—he’s not sure if he still makes new blood, if his body works that way anymore—but he doesn’t have need for his blood the way a human does. Maybe he could sate you for a bit.

You give him a look of wary surprise, but James knows how you feel well enough to recognize the hope behind it. Any chance of feeding will sound good to you right now.

“Can we do that?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I don’t think it’ll hurt to try. Might taste a bit stale, though.”

It’s a lame joke, and you don’t laugh. Your trembling worsens, your restraint barely holding out against your cravings. Your voice is small. “I don’t know if I can be gentle. I feel…weird.”

James offers you a smile. “I know, honey. It’s okay. Can I touch you?”

You nod. James is careful about it, not wanting to overstimulate your sensitive nerves. He takes your hands in his, slowly guiding you onto his lap.

“You’re alright,” he promises. “Let me help.”

Your brows crease, and your lip starts bleeding again when you prick it with your fang. James gently thumbs the droplet away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you whisper, scared.

“I’ll be fine.” He looks you in the eyes, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks calmingly. “You did it for me, right? That wasn’t so bad. Just…” James palms the back of your head, bringing it to the crook of his neck like an embrace. “Take what you need.”

James doesn’t have a heartbeat for you to hear, but that doesn’t matter; once you’re close you can’t restrain yourself anymore. You bite into his neck eagerly.

It feels like you described. Part of James worried that you were stretching the truth, trying to make him feel better, but the places where your mouth connects to his skin are suddenly the center of James’ universe. He can feel his blood rushing to meet you, to sate you, fill you up and be everything you need. Your low moan vibrates against his skin, and James laughs, dizzy and drunk on you.

One of your hands fists in his hair, pulling his head further to the side. He bears his neck to you readily. He hopes you glut yourself on him, stay here with him, keep your mouth suctioned to his skin until you both die whatever deaths immortals can.

He feels a bead of wet roll down his chest. You make a soft, thoughtless sound in the back of your throat, leaving his neck to chase it. Your tongue licks a stripe up James’ left pectoral.

He blinks slowly as you wipe your mouth, breathing hard. It feels like waking up from a dream. You have blood smeared around your mouth and nearly dripping from your chin. You look embarrassed as you catch it with your fingers and lick them clean.

“Sorry,” you say.

“It’s okay.” James smiles at you. He still feels slightly doped up, but it’s also sweet to see you like this, pupils still blown from the taste of him and shy about it at the same time. “You were right, that was nice.”

One side of your mouth tilts up tentatively. “I didn’t hurt you? You were so controlled when you fed from me.”

“That’s not your fault, honey, you can’t be controlled this early on.” James kisses you, pleased to find your fangs are starting to retract. “It’s not possible. But no, it didn’t hurt.”

Your smile blooms with relief. “You didn’t taste stale,” you reassure him. “You sort of tasted like yourself, if that makes sense.”

He nods. You’d tasted like yourself, too, all sticky sweet and addicting.

You let your breath out in a whoosh, sagging in his hold. “I’m…god, how do you manage to walk home after this? I’m so tired.”

“It gets easier with time,” James reassures you. He pets the back of your head, turning you both around so his back rests against the headboard of your bed. “You can sleep, though. We’ll clean you up tomorrow.”

There are no arguments from you. You’re fading fast, head falling naturally back into the curve of his neck.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I wasn’t as nice about it as you were with me.”

“Sure you were, sweetheart. You’re always nice, I don’t think you can help it.”

“Yeah, well.” You turn your head slightly to mush a kiss over the puncture marks you’ve left him. “Thanks.”

538 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 4 months ago

Text

Platonic Yandere Demon Queen Headcannons (1)

Introduction | Part 2 | Kofi

The Demon Queen is adamant that you drink from her even if you're a month off of weening

She just has to get that instinct out

Constantly holding you against her monumental chest just like she did with her first

Unlike humans who have a nursery, demons make nests

A Soft comfortable place for her and her baby

Hers is in the deep dungeons of one of her many castles

Moving to an identical copy of her nest for wherever she feels like

Currently, her nest is like a pod

Open and closed by a very specific spell

The floor is a carpet of flower petals, soft, soothing, and place magically grown to keep fussy babies calm

And that’s what life’s like for you, if not in the soft chest of your new Mama

It’ll be weeks before she will actually part with you to attend her duties

Rarely does she deem any situation dire enough to leave her nest

But when she does you’re in tow

Swaddled and likely sleeping she has a standing bassinet

Level and matching with her skull-covered throne

“Ah!”

“Yes, we’ll do the obvious thwing mwy lwove!”

“We’ll….proceed with the assassin plan?”

“YES IDIOT! Now go it smells like my baby needs a diaper change!”

Your Demon Queen Mama doesn’t care in the slightest that you’re a human

She loves how long it’s taking for you to grow just a little bit

Demon babes with their extra month in the womb spend less time getting older

Humans on the other hand have a more standard rate of growth

Which she quickly studies up on when she gets concerned that you aren’t speaking yet and can barely lift your head on your own

She proudly hold you in her arms as she speaks to her generals about your development

Her generals will often share there own knowledge about children in concern about hers

While she may scoff and wave them off

Their concerns usually ignite something she was wondering about

“My Queen is a human babe supposed to not have teeth at this age? Perhaps they’ll need implants?”

“FOOLISH! My baby will need no such thing!”

“I see. Excuse me, my lady.”

“....Say (Y/n) will teeth somehow magically appear within here?”

“Ohhh! Baa!”

Other than the strong learning curve she adores her human baby and celebrates all your major milestones

Making sure to execute anyone who refuses you or even remotely doesn’t pretend to also be so proud

And the first that she does this to is her concubines

You didn’t think she just had this baby with some random

No no no

She has a total of three concubines, every now and then she’ll accept another for political purposes but it’s a known fact that they won’t last long

After all her three concubines are known as the three Reapers

One way or another making sure they are the only ones in the Queen’s bed

Something the Queen has always treasured

Loyalty with their entire being

From fear and love a volatile mix of both

The same that she has with you

And who better to teach you about what to expect than them

She’s…cautious when it comes to you meeting them

While she can’t deny they were among the few who could be near her when she had her…..slump

She also knows their ruthlessness does not stop at rivals in love

anyone who threatens her reign, happiness, and goals they intervene

Usually without her instruction

She worries they might do the same

But of course both scaring and exciting, the first concubine approaches first

“Oh my Queen! May I sit on the edge of your nest to see your precious baby?”

“You…may…”

She refuses to let her eldest concubine come much closer than that

Already bold to even enter the room, she’s suspicious of her

Her eldest concubine is Milune, gorgeous as she is soft

She’s the Queen’s go-to for comfort

Unbelievably soft in a world full of demons, the Queen adores the balance

she thanks her human parents for that

“My Queen I’ve brought a specially crafted wunzie for your little one! Can they try it on?”

“They can…but I will inspect it first.”

“Of course!”

The Queen does recall just how eager she was to help her craft her nest

Lovingly adding her unique magic to the protective spells around it

Recalling a discussion she had with her about being a mother herself

“If my Queen wished it I’d love to conceive for you! Or to handle the raising of the little one when you’re crushing all of humanity! Whatever you wish for your majesty!”

Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea to let her hold you….only once of course

“Ahh~! Look at you! Aren’t you a joy to behold!”

Milune is holding you up high and filling your face with kisses

Making baby you laugh

The Queen is torn between happiness at her acceptance of you….and jealousy

Now beginning to master walking, she’s just sad you aren’t crawling only to her anymore

…but she figures its not that bad when she finds a gaggle of elven assassins dead bodies strewn all over the hallway

“They got far too close to the baby, my Queen! Plus the little one just got down for their nap!”

She’s pretty sure your hearing isn’t that good but she doesn’t mind

In fact she thinks it’s great

Absolutely showering Milune in affection and more responsibility with you

“Oh little one! Come sit in mama Milune’s lap! While we watch your Mama massacre these insolent worms.”

Milune is delighted

As someone who grieved alongside the Queen, your existence brings her a similar joy

And what better way to honor her Queen and love by showering you in the same obsession her Queen adores

When she pretends that your her baby too you are

She’s certain she’d do anything for you and kill whoever she’s allied with to protect you

Including the concubines she’s made a pact with...

TBC...

#platonic yandere x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #baby reader #yandere platonic x reader #platonic yandere monster #platonic yandere mother #yandere demon queen #yandere demon king #yandere platonic #platonic yanderes #part 1

371 notes · View notes

isakvaltersnake · 8 months ago

Text

things from the 2001 television programme band of brothers that haunt me to this day:

- we’re paratroopers lieutenant, we’re supposed to be surrounded. not to be your 60 year old military obsessed uncle about it but that line goes hard

- nix’s little giggle he does sometimes

- I’ll never forgive them for leaving gene’s medic training out of their training montage. in fact you know what? go back in time, film a parallel sequel of the other 9 eps from gene’s pov

- popeye’s “they called you guys too?” and the way his accent specifically scratches my brain

- they gave me moose heyliger and his massachusetts accent for like 20 minutes then the narrative snatched him away from me and i still miss him

- the way meehan looks at winters after he tells him to close the flap, in fact let’s talk about how every single one of winters’ commanders are obsessed with him in one way or another he truly is the it girl

- the chaos and fear that precedes gene and the calm and comfort that follows him

- I know everyone thinks “we’ll go to chicago, I’ll take you there” is the insane line but the one that actually makes me lose sleep is “what, and give up all this?” THAT MAN SAID I WOULD RATHER LIVE THROUGH THE HORRORS OF WAR THAN HAVE LIVED MY LIFE WITHOUT YOU

- alley is So Beautiful and I don’t think we collectively talk about it enough

- babe being some rando replacement in episode three and whilst his other replacement friends are being absolutely roasted he is immediately adopted by bill and then gets gene fucking roe of all people to connect to him?? he’s too powerful I need to study him

- speirs being this ghoulish terrifying boogeyman until lip is anywhere near him then he’s suddenly dimples and kicking his feet and giggling

- speaking of lip and speirs their little sarcastic in jokes, lip finishing speirs’ sentences fml it’s giving married

- you been working out? IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?? LIEB YOU SLUT?? THEN YOURE GONNA LAY IN HIS BED WAITING FOR HIM??? insane behaviour

- the unexplored but high potential friendships and the way I wanted like 16 more episodes for shifty and lip, nix and luz, nix and web, sisk and perconte, winters and gene, grant and tab, lieb and alley, speirs and harry, etc

- the more haggard and bitchy nix gets the hotter he gets. he also must be studied.

- “you should pack up those ears and go home” ok sobel kinda ate with that one ngl

- speaking of sobel the little confused/bewildered/piss-pants faces he makes david schwimmer the actor you are

- the silly little wide stance pennywise ass run hall does before he gets murked RIP king

- klepto speirs ilysm

- joe toye and his brass knuckles are v sexy

- sink letting nix give winters his oak leaves was very shipper girl of him

- lip harry nix speirs winters in the eagle’s nest dream blunt rotation

- the unsustainable amount of cunt served by nix, frank, babe, and luz at all times is truly a marvel

- tab really checked lip’s dick and balls mid battle and honestly that’s friendship

- bit parts for simon pegg, tom hardy, andrew scott, james mcavoy, michael fassbender, jimmy fallon ?? bob casting director you will always be famous

- peacock is so fine if he was even a little good at his job I’d be obsessed with him (special shout out to the scene of him getting sent home on furlough)

- I could list out every one of their meaningful little moments together but really it’s babe and gene just tethering and grounding each other and how they seem to gravitate to each other out of blind instinct? that’s some Brontë whatever our souls are made of bullshit I’m afraid

- ok I know I said I wasn’t talking about little meaningful moments but gene staring across the convent at where babe is sitting, lost in the peace

-bull in replacements getting imprinted on by a bunch of baby ducks and being SO PLEASED ABOUT IT he’s not the stepfather, he’s the father that stepped up

- speaking of, the underutilization of bull in the back half is such an out of character bad call

- you are officers, you are grown ups, you oughta know. HE’S RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT AND THAT’S ON GENE BEING THE ONLY ONE ALLOWED TO TELL OFF WINTERS

- I know nix and winters are married and whatever but the real married couple behaviour is luz constantly pissing off joe and joe immediately letting it go

- lip and speirs and their mutual competency kink

- I’M REAL SORRY FRANK skinny ilysm

#band of brothers #I mean there’s more for sure #but it’s a start

496 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 2 months ago

Text

I'm gonna expand on my Bobby Alive post, a lot of this will be copied from the other version without the buried alive aspect as a focus, but just stay with me.

Still building upon the breadcrumbing the show has the tendency of doing.

I'm gonna start out the song choice. Licensing Work Song by Hozier is insane behavior

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

Like, come on.

And not only that but the way the song overall can be interpreted as an suicidal alcoholic finding something to live for in love.

Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin I woke with her walls around me Nothin' in her room but an empty crib And I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived But I swear, I thought I dreamed her She never asked me once about the wrong I did

And the second verse catches my eye when we go back to Sick Day and we go back to bathena's dream house being an empty nest and Athena overall being the thing that tethers Bobby to life. Bobby wanted to die but starting to date Athena is the start of him accepting he found more to life than the things he lost. It all makes the choice of this particular song even more insane. He doesn't want to leave her. He will crawl back to her.

Then, we never saw a body. We saw him pass out and a body bag. Bobby passing out does not mean he is dead because Chimney fully passed out and Chimney was bleeding a lot more than Bobby. And Chimney is alive. The seeing the body is important because we usually do see the body. We see Patricia's body, we have focus on Eddie with Shannon's body, we see Emmett's, we also Marcy's.

In other instances, like with Karen, Denny, Buck, we saw a monitor flatlining or some other confirmation that there is no pulse.

With Bobby we cut from him laying on the table to a body bag when they could've done a dramatic shot of Athena against the glass to parallel Bobby losing Marcy.

And sure, body bags can be final enough, BUT other times we saw a body bag, we see them closing it, so we are still seeing the body. And that happened as recently as 811.

That leads us to Bobby's Halloween costume. He's a vampire.

An undead creature. An undead creature that in a lot of versions of the myth needs to go in contact with the virus venom and then bleed out to be reborn.

811 we had a call where the husband gave her cyanide, which should have killed her, but didn't, and buried her before checking for sure she was dead. She then did this.

816 has them digging up an empty casket. It makes me wonder if there was anything in that casket.

There's also the copilot from the plane disaster. In particular Athena's part in keeping him alive. He's powering through because there no other pilot, but then his heart stops. There's the whole effort to keep doing cpr while Athena fixes the situation and lands the plane, and then Athena chooses to stay in the plane, even thought it is on fire, to continue that and he ultimately makes it. Kinda like the way Athena fixes the situation with Chimney and is the reason Bobby has to stay alive. Especially because the opening arc is about Athena healing from Emmett's death and it bleeds into 804 and the promise of their future together.

Then we have the helmet parallels. There's also the way Buck was dead, his light was on, Bobby's isn't on. We also had the full helmet in frame for Buck, and that did not happen with Bobby. But Buck makes it out of it alive.

We also have the way that they think Bobby is dead in the first part of the event, and they let the tension build before showing us that Bobby survived the car.

We have the hotshots of it all, with 808 and the way Brad's character was supposed to be dead but has a "miracle recovery" no one could explain. Also plays into the Jesus of it all. And also the way that the jumper call has the dude begging them not to kill the captain because he is what keeps the family together. (That call is gonna get real bad if Bobby dead for real.

Then we have the main argument: Jesus. 911 has added a lot of Jesus symbolism to Bobby this season. And it makes me wonder after meeting his mother in a church. And the fact that the episode aired on Holy Thursday. And the fact that the funeral is being filmed on the Hall of Crucifixion and Resurrection. The Easter of it all points to resurrection. (Finale is 3 episodes after his "death" any takers?)

@stagefoureddiediaz has also pointed out to me the possible coma dream callback and the "fixing it" aspect from the scene with Buck and Eddie and Ravi. While Buck's green isn't exactly the same, the hoodie Eddie is wearing is of a similar shade to the one Bobby was wearing. In the 816 scene, Eddie who was not there both for Bobby dying and the coma dream, says "I should've been there" and Buck replies "you're here now" and that is actually fixing part of the coma dream, Eddie was in Texas because he lost Chris in both cases, but now he can fix it.

The coma dream had Buck wanting Maddie to be safe and Chim, which she wasn't but is again, Eddie not being there and getting Chris back to him, which has happened, and Bobby's death. If 2 things from the dream can happen and be fixed, then so can a third.

Anyway, I might be crazy, but I will believe he is alive until the season ends. Peace.

#911 #911 spoilers #thoughts thoughts thoughts #911 speculation

155 notes · View notes

batilenima · 9 days ago

Text

Bruce returns after three days missing in action.

He's bruised, bloodied, and silent when the League's zeta beam flares to life and deposits him in the Batcave. Alfred catches him as he stumbles, but Bruce pushes himself upright with a quiet grunt, waving off any help like he always does, he doesn't answer questions, doesn't explain why he didn't call, doesn't explain why his comm went dark.

He just says "I need to lie down" and walks off.

Tim's already moving.

He's been waiting, planning and preparing the nest two days ago when his instincts screamed something is wrong. Now Bruce is home, his father, and Tim doesn't even let Alfred lead Bruce to the infirmary. He wraps an arm around his waist and guides him away from the medical wing, his way.

The nest he's made is on one of the safer rooms beneath the manor: soft blankets, clean clothes, even a shirt of Bruce's that still smells like him from before he disappeared. When Bruce sinks into the nest without complaint, Tim exhales shakily, curling around him with careful reverence.

It should be over.

Until Jason storms in.

He looks exhausted, there's blood under his fingernails and dust in his hair. He must've come straight from his patrol, or from breaking a wall down in Blüdhaven trying to chase down a lead about Bruce's disappearance, but the second he sees Bruce (settled, quiet, vulnerable)in Tim's arms, his whole body tenses.

"You've gotta be kidding me"Jason growls.

Tim looks up, but doesn’t move "He needs rest"

Jason strides in,jaw tight, "Yeah, and I was out there tearing up every corner of the city looking for him, and you're here playing omega keeper?*

"I am keeping him" Tim says, voice low and dangerous now, the alpha in him rising "Where were you when he needed this?"

Jason laughs, a cold, humorless sound "You think this," he gestures at the nest "makes you special? You think he wants to be smothered like this?"

Bruce stirs weakly "Stop—"

But it's too late.

Tim's up on his knees, eyes narrowed "You weren't here, I felt it when he went missing, I knew. You were off playing lone wolf"

"and you think you're the only one who felt it?" Jason snaps, crossing the room "it should've been me with him, not you"

Their auras flare, the air practically crackles. Jason grabs Tim by the shirt front and yanks him close, Tim doesn't flinch, he bares his teeth. Alphas, both of them, ready to tear into each other, not out of hate, but out of love, out of guilt, out of desperation; because they both need Bruce, and Bruce is only one person.

"Stop" Bruce says again, quiet, firm.

And just like that, they do.

Tim exhales and looks away first, Jason lets go, fingers trembling, and steps back.

Bruce doesn't yell, he just reaches out, still wrapped in Tim's nest, hand extended toward both of them.

And they come.

Not because he ordered them, but because he's the anchor, the only thing that really keeps either of them grounded; the only thing that can pull them back from that ledge.

They settle down again. Both pressed close, both silently fuming but unwilling to let go, neither willing to give up him.

Bruce doesn't say anything else, he closes his eyes and rests his head against Tim's shoulder, his hand curled in Jason's shirt.

Neither of them moves.

And Alfred, quietly standing just outside the door, sighs into his hand and mutters "I'm getting too old for this"

#batman #bruce wayne #dc #au #batfam #tim drake #jason todd #red hood #red robin #omegaverse #batkids

137 notes · View notes

cocoreallylovesraiden · 11 months ago

Note

How about the mk1 characters getting annoyed ( cause you know women like to sleep with pillows or blankets or something between their legs and just lay there cuddled up with a pillow) cause they're cuddling a pillow one I'm their arms and one between their legs

MK1 characters genuinely beefing with a pillow

(bi han, johnny cage, syzoth, tomas vrbada)

this is actually so real of you anon i cannot sleep unless i have 4 pillows with me (requests open as always :D)

Bi Han

-Is offended by the gratuitous amount of pillows you’ve managed to populate the already cramped bed with.

-In the beginning of sharing a bed with him he’d just sleep faced away from you so he never realized this was always something you did; and probably took it personally

-He suggests that you are being childish and in a moment of mild embarrassment, says you can just hold onto him instead.

-Good on him for voicing his needs and opening up to his partner! But you don’t have the heart to tell him his arms are too muscly and less comfortable than your pillows.

-In the mornings he stores the extra pillows under the bed or on the seats to make everything look neat because you DON'T no matter how much HE TELLS YOU.

-In the warm summer months when shit is hot as hell you will forgo it because who needs them when you have the equivalent of “cold pillow side” all night!

-It makes him feel like he’s the little spoon, which he doesn’t appreciate, and you get really sweaty at around 4am, which he appreciates even less, but it’s very grounding and the pressure makes it easy to sleep

-He always wakes up really disoriented and mistakes you for the blanket (read: almost tosses you off the bed as he gets up)

Johnny Cage

-This is equivalent to letting your dog sleep at the foot of the bed (except let's be real you’ve probably done something similar to him)

-Thinks its super cute when he comes into the room after his shower and sees you all comfy and snuggled up, expecting you to reach for him all sleepy once he gets under the covers

-And when I tell you it hurts his pride like nothing else, when you turn around to get into a better position

-Babe i'm RIGHT here (gets a bolster thrown at his head)

-Out of spite he’ll copy you and sleep with the bolster instead of holding you, and immediately gets the appeal

-Because yes he loves you dearly, but he can’t exactly fold you three times to fit under his bad knee (as much as he wants to)

-As time goes on you both now have more extra pillows, bolsters and djungelskogs than you know what to do with.

-(you two both have one except he weighs like a brick shit ton so his is extremely disfigured and looks like a sack)

-He thinks you look really hot when you lay on your side cuddling all the pillows

-You’ll just be watching TV and he’s got the googly eyes ok calm down buddy not while you’re wearing the muumuu…

Syzoth

-Thinks you are building a nest because there is no other reason someone needs five pillows and two throw blankets

-Though this is coming from a man who spent most of his life sleeping on the cobblestone floor

-Over the next few weeks he comes back to you with an assortment of sort fluffy…things

-You don’t have the heart to ask why he’s suddenly showering you with gifts, initially thinking it’s good nature but hey ok there’s a limit to your patience AND space on this bed.

-The teddy bears are adorable, but spa…towels? Does he know what a spa is? You have more questions than answers.

-Every time you thank him he gets quietly excited since he thinks this is confirmation that you are nesting and possibly want to start a family with him

-Doesn’t actually mind the part with you not cuddling with him as often, he usually just lightly holds your hand or big spoons you

-The day you actually ask him about it, and eventually have to break the news that no you are not nesting and that it’s just for your comfort, he deflates like a balloon

-Bless his heart you spend the rest of the day begging for forgiveness and clinging onto him like a koala explaining your side

-“Does that mean… you are uncomfortable with me?” NO IT’S JUST SECOND NATURE SYZOTH!! LIKE WHEN YOU WANT TO BASK ON A ROCK!! SECOND NATURE!

-He looks at you pointedly. Just because he’s zaterran doesn’t mean he’s going to behave like an iguana…. Not the zaterran discrimination…

-You compromise using him in replacement, and grow to enjoy the feeling of your new pillows occasionally squirming under your iron death grip.

Tomas Vrbada

-Will cheerfully use his herculean strength to just wriggle through your grip so you hold him and not the pillows.

-Wiggles up like a snake coming out a pot until he can wrangle his arms above yours and hug you

-Just starts telling you about his day like its a normal conversation while you lay there completely stunlocked

-It’s also just a reminder that as sweet and kind your partner is, he is also insanely strong and is just careful to be soft with you

-If you’re both laying in bed and you prefer to cuddle up with pillows he’ll just stare at you with the saddest, wettest boba eyes using his curled up forearm as a pillow

-And since you are merely a mortal man you relent and cling onto him instead

-At the same time he likes when you rest your head on his chest and hold onto a bolster, a perfect combination of not overheating and physical touch

-Biggest flaw is that he tends to spook you with how quietly he enters the room, so more often than not he is getting PELTED by that soft Egyptian cotton pillow at light speeds

-He’ll catch it 80% of the time and laugh, the other 20% he’s equally scared and the thing takes him down like it’s Sisyphus’ boulder and he’s the hill

#mk1 #mortal kombat #tomas vrbada #mk1 x reader #bi han #bi han x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #mk1 reptile #mk1 headcanons #very passionate about tomas vbrada doing the boba eyes #also bi han just mildly annoyed but loves you anyways #so true #mk1 smoke #smoke x reader

1K notes · View notes

glasscandlegrenades · 5 days ago

Text

Children of the Empire

a/n: finally finished my aemond x strong!reader fic, only took me two years and 350k words so i thought i'd share it here in celebration

✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone, and twin to her heir, Prince Jacaerys. When your younger brother assails your uncle in a childhood squabble, your grandsire, the King Viserys, offers your hand in marriage as payment for Aemond's lost eye.

Plighted in a match that is beheld by many and desired by none, you find yourself alone in a nest of vipers, forced to watch as your mother and the Queen maneuver and vie for influence within the court and the Realm. Despite your youth, fears, and insecurity, you know you must apply your will and wits to one claim or another, but this choice becomes more and more difficult as you find yourself further entrenched within the family who would see your mother and siblings fed to the flames.

Aemond x Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, non-con, abortion, suicide, depression, grief, unwanted pregnancy, childbirth, motherhood, toxic relationships, dubious consent, traumatic birth, i promise some good things happen too tho

Word count: 350k

Chapter One: Without Love

“I am so frightened.”

You whisper it as your mother leans over your shoulder, fastening a pearl earbob to your lobe.

You whisper it like a prayer for only her ears, for mothers have more sway than all the gods put together, or at least yours does, her noble brow wrinkled in concern all morning as she has pushed through your trousseau and sharply directed the servants who hustle about your chambers with swaths of linen.

You have avoided pleading; your mother and stepfather have both met with the King already, suggesting matches that may strengthen ties to other houses, but the King has been insistent.

He appears to have very little energy for anything anymore, but he has thrown himself into planning your wedding with great vigor, and the feasts and tourneys of the last week have rivaled those that the Queen had held for her two eldest children’s wedding three years past. You suppose it should feel an honor.

It feels like an insult.

Your mother releases the pearl, a great sigh escaping her lips as you feel her hand fall to your shoulder and squeeze gently.

“My darling, would that I could spare you this,” Rhaenyra says, her lips turning down in worry. She steps around to face you, giving your white gown a once over before taking your hands in her own.

“I was loath to marry your father, but my King commanded it.”

Your mother’s voice is deep and quiet. She reaches forward and tucks a loose mahogany curl behind your ear as she gives you a wan smile. “In the end, Laenor and I shared many happy memories. I am sure that you both will find a way to share in your own joys.”

You blanch at the thought of your one-eyed uncle. “He questions our legitimacy, Mother. He hates me.”

Rhaenyra’s smile falters and she releases a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry.”

She looks across the solar, past the balcony and across the city towards the sept. You feel an immense wave of guilt at how quickly she has turned despondent.

Neither Jace nor Luke ever cause her such anguish. You have no wish to, either.

Rhaenyra twists the rings on her left hand. “I feel that I have failed you.”

“No, Mother, I-” but she gives you her look, the one that silences you immediately. You haven’t received one so severe since you and Jacaerys returned from Spicetown, drunk and stumbling, on your fourteenth name day.

Your mother continues, her expression solemn. “How, my darling girl, how can I make this better for you?”

You press both hands to the bodice of your gown, trying to tamp down the queasiness that bubbles in your stomach.

“Do you think it will do any good?” You hate the childish note in your voice, craving her reassurance that your suffering will not be for nothing. “Do you think the rumors about us will stop if I wed one of them?”

Rhaenyra’s gaze chills as she observes you. “We are Targaryens. There will always be whispers, and sometimes our presence alone is enough to fan the flames. It does not matter what anyone thinks but you, my sweet girl.”

She smiles, then. “I hate the thought of leaving you, but perhaps instead of remaining here as his wife, you can think of yourself as my envoy here at King’s Landing. Make sure that the wishes of Dragonstone, and not those of Oldtown, are given their consideration, hm?”

You try to smile, but you can feel it falter on your face. Your mother’s brow creases with worry again, and you feel guilty at upsetting her, especially when being in the capital already causes her strife.

She once more pushes some of your unruly curls behind your ear. “What ails you, my sweet? I know I may have been a - well, an indulgent parent, yet I also know that I never promised that you would be able to marry for love alone,” Rhaenyra sighs again. “Mayhaps you and he might work out some arrangement - one where you are able to do your duty to the Realm, and then-”

“That’s just it,” you groan miserably. “My duty, let us name it for what it is: to be a mother to his children! To grow fat with Targaryens over and over, to give endless heirs to a pompous, proud, arrogant man who has only looked in my direction with scorn.”

Your mother purses her lips. You look over her shoulder, to where one of the maids arranges a bouquet of sugarbushes. The Queen’s favorite flower.

“You thought you deserved more?” Rhaenyra’s voice is quiet.

“I did not think of it at all,” you fiddle with the lace on your sleeve. “I certainly didn’t expect to be offered up in payment for a debt, but even after Grandsire betrothed us... I didn’t realize, not until now, how oppressive it would feel. Like my life is ending; that after this evening I will never have a chance to see the world outside this Keep again.”

Rhaenyra’s mouth turns down, and she reaches up once more to cradle your cheek, pecking it three times.

“I understand,” your mother sighs. “When I was your age, the prospect of marriage, of motherhood, it was stifling, overwhelming. Terrifying, actually, after how I lost mine own mother. I avoided it with every ounce of will I possessed. But…”

She trails off, looking rather misty, and it shocks you, for your mother is in turns proud, stern, warm, jubilant, defiant, but rarely weepy. She turns away from you, her voice low.

“The moment you and Jacaerys were placed in my arms was the greatest of my life. I - I cannot - there are not even words that I can lend to describe it.”

Her emotion discomfits you, and you cast your eyes around her chambers. The old ones from your youth. They have been cleared of all of your old toys, redecorated in various shades of Hightower green.

Your mother follows your gaze before speaking again. “Motherhood - that which I feared the most... my love, you and your brothers are my greatest joys. And you - you have a warm heart. Any child you have - regardless of who sires them - they will make your world far larger, I am sure of it.”

You nod, despite still feeling unsure; though, to be fair, you are always unsure, and it is hard to imagine your mother being afraid of anything.

Your mother rode a dragon for the first time at age seven; you yourself had a dragon hatch in your cradle, and yet you have always preferred your feet planted firmly on the ground, leaving Mhyrax to take riderless to the skies.

“Do you-” your mother interrupts herself, clearing her throat. “Do you know what to expect tonight? I don’t - I wouldn’t wish for you to be surprised, or uncomfortable….”

You blush slightly, looking down. “Gods, Mother, you sound like a septa. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

Rhaenyra chuckles lightly, before frowning once more. “I’m sure you will, my girl. It’s only,” she takes a deep breath, and your stomach sinks. “The King has commanded a viewing of your bedding.”

You pinch your neck with how quickly you snap your gaze back to your mother’s.

“A what?”

Rhaenyra blanches. “They were more common in the days of the Conqueror, to ensure consummation, prevent annulments, but I fear my father believes the Queen may also try to undermine your union, as he believes Daemon and I have-”

“How long have you known?” you interrupt, and that she does not immediately reply makes your blood boil. “Mother!”

“I did not wish for you to dwell over that which you had no control - I know how you worry-”

You are shrill. “How long?”

“Since we arrived,” your mother admits.

“Who?”

Once more, Rhaenyra begins fiddling with her rings. “The King, the Queen, the Grand Maester, the High Septon was meant to attend, but he is too frail, so Septon Eustace-”

“You?”

“Would you like that?”

You hesitate, unsure if it would be better or worse.

You think of your twin. Jacaerys would find it uncomfortable, to be sure, but he would likely pinch the bridge of his nose, shrug it off, and give them a show. He certainly wouldn’t make Mother endure his discomfort.

“No,” you say.

“You will have ladies to attend to you,” Rhaenyra says, and her dry tone hardly makes it sound reassuring. “The Queen has apparently hand-selected them.”

You narrow your eyes at her. If Alicent has chosen your ladies, they are certain to be uninspiring. Your mother purses her lips, rolling her eyes. “A great honor,” she finishes.

“Oh, delightful,” you groan. “They can gather around my marriage bed and say prayers for my discarded maidenhead.”

Rhaenyra laughs aloud at this, and you chuckle too, only remembering the pit in your stomach as your mirth subsides.

“It’s only - I am very afraid,” you murmur. “I wish I could be brave like you.”

Your mother purses her lips and angles her chin down, her eyes bright. “I know that you are too wise to mistake bravery for the absence of fear.”

“Very cowardly, then,” you say, your stomach roiling.

Your mother gives you a small smile. “I have yet to know a coward who jests over her fears.”

The door opens, and your aunt’s head peeks around, her brow raising slightly as she takes you in. Her silver hair has been braided away from her face, and she wears a dress of an earthy green.

“Princess Helaena,” your mother sighs.

Helaena is paler than usual. There are whispers that Prince Aegon has put another child in her, but it is as yet confirmed, and there is not enough closeness between your two sides of the family to make delicate inquiries.

You try to inspect her midriff, curious, intrigued. This is your fate, after all.

“It is time,” she says softly, and behind her, you see your cousin, the Lady Rhaena. The closest thing you’ve had to a sister on Dragonstone these last years, she gives you a reassuring smile. Together, they will carry your train.

You feel dizzy. Your mother will ride with the King, the Queen, and the rest of her siblings in one wheelhouse. Daemon, who will be removing your maiden’s cloak, will be accompanying you to the Sept.

You glance to the corner of the room, where the sea green cape rests, the delicate silver embroidered seahorses shimmering in the sunlight that streams in from your solar. Helaena follows your gaze.

“The seahorse trips the light, and the dragon is set aflight,” she murmurs, before glancing back towards you. “You look nice, in your dress.”

“Thank you, Aunt.” Warmth is not what you expected.

“Come,” Rhaenyra’s voice cuts severs the nice moment like Dark Sister. She yanks the cloak up and drapes it over your shoulders, pulling your curls forward over your shoulders, ensuring all of the front tendrils of your hair remain twisted in your tiara. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you repeat, and then she is embracing you, pressing three small kisses to your brow. You stare at her in agony as she releases you.

Helaena moves from the doorway so that you may pass through, your heart pounding, your head spinning.

You know not where to look as you approach the grand staircase of Maegor’s Holdfast; you are terrified that you will trip, and walk with exceptional slowness. It is quiet in the Keep, and you know that the courtiers must already be at the Sept; your footsteps echo, as do those of your mother, and Rhaena and Helaena’s too, trailing behind you as they silently carry the corners of your cloak.

You fear that you need the privy, and you do your best to allay your own worry without giving voice to it - who has ever heard of a bride announcing she may shit herself on her wedding day?

Once beyond the steps, it is easy enough to reach the main gates where the wheelhouses wait. There: your stepfather, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he speaks idly with the King.

Your grandsire is more emaciated than ever, his flesh disappearing. You hate looking at him; you hate the knowledge that this can happen to a body, that this could happen to your body. Your mind grapples with what he may have possibly done to bring this affliction upon himself.

Still, Viserys smiles as he sees you, even as the queen glances you over, her nostrils flaring slightly as if you have brought a terrible smell from the Holdfast. You drop into a curtsy as you reach them. Aegon, standing as far from his mother as he can while still looking decorous, sways slightly and scowls. Helaena drops your cloak and moves to stand by him, her hand smoothing the front of her gown.

“Granddaughter,” the King says. You stand, looking upon his pockmarked face. “What cause for celebration. To see this rift within our family finally healed.”

Alicent scoffs at this before turning away.

You nod, attempting to look gracious, or at the very least like you’re not about to be sick on your own shoes.

Daemon steps forward, opening the door to the wheelhouse and looking at you expectantly, a small smile playing on his own features. You clamber inside, his hand offered in aid, and then you are seated, your mother and Rhaena folding your cloak gently around you, the latter pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Daemon sits across from you, crossing his legs at the ankle and stretching as the wheelhouse lurches into motion, the smell of the city soon reaching your nose. You grasp for your pomander.

“How did you spend so much time with the City Watch?” You immediately regret breaking the silence.

It is not an uneasy one; you are often in Daemon’s company, and you often speak little. He is not necessarily terrifying, he is too warm to your mother to be so, but it is clear you are dear to him not for yourself, but only as an extension of her. You have never felt like an actual person to Daemon Targaryen, let alone a daughter - not the way you did with your own sire, Ser Laenor.

Not like you did with Ser Harwin Strong, your mind voices treasonously.

Daemon shrugs, chuckles lightly, and then pulls the screen away from the grated window, gazing out to Flea Bottom.

You reach the Sept in little time, and as the wheelhouse door is pulled open and sunlight pours in, you see your new ladies tittering anxiously before the stairs.

Daemon looks at you again, a small grin playing at his countenance, before he steps down from the carriage and offers you his hand.

You climb out with as much dignity as you can muster, releasing Daemon’s grip as soon as you can, and then grasping the cuff of his doublet when he offers it to you. Your handmaidens, still whispering among themselves, form around you, two of the older ones taking over the handling of your cloak.

The sun is reaching the center of the sky behind the Sept, and it is momentarily blinding, but as you blink you see the High Septon, so stooped and frail he looks as though a strong breeze may carry him away, flanked by the Hand of the King.

You feel Otto Hightower and Daemon sizing each other up, and try your best to bear it little mind. You move fluidly up the steps, and realize the finality of this moment; the last threshold you will cross an unwed woman.

You nearly laugh as you walk through the Sept, trying to ignore the courtiers flocking the aisle, and approach Aemond. He stands with his hands crossed behind his back, his stance profoundly, obnoxiously wide.

Who could he be squaring up against at this moment? The world was Aemond’s enemy, and yet here, before the altar in his leather doublet, it looks as though he is willing to fight the very gods.

Daemon is casual, caustic, as he deposits you at the Septon’s feet with little regard for your dignity; you stumble slightly as he tugs the Velaryon cloak from your shoulders.

It is impossible to find an adequate place to divert your attention. Aemond stares at you with freakish regard; you wonder how someone with naught but one eye can go unblinking for so long.

The High Septon is enough infirm that he can barely speak; your hand grows sweaty in your uncle’s as he clasps it tightly. You look over his shoulder.

Viserys is smiling in his familiar, dotard way, though your mother would have your hide for considering it such. Alicent scowls. Daeron has but a mild expression on his face, and Aegon and Helaena look akin in their misery. You wonder what expressions your mother and brothers share behind you.

Jace.

He had been livid at the news of your betrothal. Not willing to blame the King, believing, for his own sake as much as any others, that a King’s word is inherently just, he had fought with Lucerys at first, saying that you would’ve never been traded away had he not been so foolish as to maul Aemond.

Luke had stammered that he was merely defending Jace’s life when he took Aemond’s eye, that, in fact, Jace should be grateful.

No one, neither of your brothers, nor your cousins, had guessed that you would be the price to pay for Luke’s impulsivity.

The boys had mended their bond soon enough, but neither knew what to do with you.

You had hardly known what to do with yourself. You grew up on Dragonstone with the lot of them, on eternally borrowed time.

The Septon finally pauses, and you and Aemond murmur the words to one another; those that you have heard a thousand times, as the ribbon is wound around your wrists, about you being his possession, and bafflingly, him being yours. He sweeps his cloak over you. It itches.

And then his mouth, pursed and muscled and hesitant, is on yours, and bizarrely you find yourself thinking of Queen Alicent, and what guidance she offered to this boyish man, or mannish boy, to reassure him, for he must find himself as unwitting and unwilling as you.

Your heart is filled with anguish and you can only gape at him as he pulls back, his face angular and cruel and determined as he shakes his head slightly and looks away.

The Septon proclaims you man and wife, and the ribbons are unwound, and you wish you could turn, turn to look at anything that isn’t Aemond’s family, all clutching their bodices and picking at their doublets.

You and Aemond leave the dais side-by-side, not touching, not speaking, and make your way to the wheelhouse, where you spend another brutal part of an hour not speaking or touching.

The feast is grand, and Jace and Luke, to their credit, swap chairs and swivel around aunts and uncles to reach you, doing their best to make it better for you. Your mind can hardly think of anything but the bedding.

The mechanics are clear; Aemond will put himself inside of you. Likely, it will hurt. Children will result. They may kill you in their efforts to get out. Luke sniggers at something and you are seized with the urge to slap him.

“Do you think he removes the patch when he’s with a woman?” Jace asks Luke.

“Oh, shut up,” you say, reaching for your goblet for the umpteenth time and taking a hearty swig. You glance to your mother, who has spent most of the evening deep in conversation with Daemon.

“Have you heard what he keeps under there?”

You glance from Rhaenyra to Alicent, who reclines in her chair, scowling eternally, before you process your brother’s question. You bristle. “Shut up, Jace!”

Luke is pale as he glances towards Aemond, who has moved down the table to speak quietly with Helaena. “Mayhaps it’s best we don’t discuss it-”

“Do you think the troubadours will play the Ballad of Simeon Star Eyes if we asked?”

You groan. “Do NOT, Jace!”

“Why not?”

“It’s my nameday,” you grumble, drunk. “You have to do as I say.”

Luke laughs aloud. “What?”

“It’s not your nameday, crazy girl,” Jace is guffawing. “It’s your wedding day.”

“Who cares? I hate that song.”

Your twin brushes against you as he stands and leans forwards, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “What would you prefer? We can dance.”

Before you can think to answer, Jasper Wylde stands, looking right at you as he shouts: “We’ve had the wedding! Now let us see the bedding!”

Jeers break out from across the hall. Noble ladies dressed in the off-shoulder florals of the Reach swarm your husband, while the man they call Ironrod charges the head table.

You look to Jace, startled, but he merely shrugs, and then you scan the room for your mother, whose mouth is open as she regards you being lifted onto the shoulders of the realm's Lords.

“You are in luck, Princess!” Jason Lannister cries. “You need not two eyes to know where to stick your cock!”

You look across your torso at your bobbing slippers, nearly falling off your feet over the shoulders of the lords, just in time to see a ringed hand, one you can tell belongs to a Tully based on the fish embossed upon the signet, rip your bodice from your breast.

You cry out and are met with a burst of laughter; you flail wildly, hoping that mayhaps you might even slip from their arms as they turn a corner. You look back to the hall and are surprised to see Aegon staring at you solemnly as he leans in the doorway.

The apartments you and Aemond have been gifted are humble, standard fare for a second son of the Realm, and therefore on one of the lowest levels of Maegor’s Holdfast. The Lords jape and jest all the way to the bed, tearing at your gown until you are left in the shift that covers barely your breasts and sex, and deposit you as such.

You scramble up to the head of the bed as the men leave, and suddenly you are confronted with an open door from which the Grand Maester, the Hand, and Septon Eustace leer at you.

“What is happening?” you slur, drunk.

The Queen enters the room and sighs as if this is some great struggle for her, before looking at you. “The bedding, dear.”

There is a great clanking and Sers Arryk and Erryk are guiding the King into the chamber now. You are struck with the realization that this bed, the headboard of which you cling to in the filmiest of linens, is where you are meant to sleep every night from here until you pass into the embrace of the stranger. Your stomach roils once more.

You glance around the room. The furnishings are dark, rich, damask. An honor. It has been beautifully kept. There will be a solar adjoining, and rooms for Aemond. A bureau, perhaps. Rooms for children who outgrow the nursery. You glance around wildly as Grand Maester Orwyle approaches you.

“Princess?” he asks.

You turn towards him, your drunken gaze fixed in question. From near the doorway, the Queen clears her throat.

“You must be examined, Princess,” she says, her tone edgy and clipped. “For virtue.”

The wine dulls your reaction to this, thankfully, while also making your head twist unevenly as you try to understand. “By the Maester?”

The Queen nods.

“Oh.”

“It will be brief,” Orwyle explains. “But your…. Princess, your positioning is not conducive. I would see - I would see you supine with your legs spread.”

In the haze of your intoxication, you are forced to look down at your squatted limbs. One of your feet is pressed to a bolster pillow. Your toes look unnatural, like something belonging to another's body. You swear you were wearing slippers in the hall.

You look back to the Maester, huffing so that your hair billows from your face. You debate telling him how frightened you are. The maester on Dragonstone, Gerardys, is a gentle man, always offering sageness and wisdom in your bodily qualms. This Orwyle does not seem as amenable.

You release your grip on the headboard, the carvings imprinted on your palms as you grip at the hem of your shift and pull it down towards your knees. You sidle yourself past the pillows and press your rear into the mattress, sliding your heels down towards the footboard and spreading them slightly. The Grand Maester nods, approaching the bed so that he made sit with his boots planted on the flagstones as he places one hand on your knee and reaches another beneath your skirts.

His touch is cold. You flinch as it seeks, objective and uncaring in its pursuance. You grit your teeth, fingers flexing, air pushing from your nostrils. You glance over his shoulder towards the Queen, unabashedly seeking sympathy.

It is the King’s doleful gaze where you find it.

“I would examine her thoroughly, Grand Maester,” the Queen says, her mouth turned downwards. “She was late to bleed; if she is barren we’d be better to learn of it now; an annulment will be more difficult to procure after the consummation.” Beside her, the Septon nods solemnly.

You grimace. You were, in fact, not late to bleed at all - you bled at three-and-ten like most healthy girls of your station. Your mother managed to hide the fact from the King for several years, until six moons past, when your grandsire threatened to send the Grand Maester to examine you for signs of infertility - word was sent to King’s Landing within the fortnight that you had miraculously flowered.

“Try to relax, Princess,” the Grand Maester says from between your legs, prodding a bit. You clench harder in response, and the man sighs, pulling back.

“I see no reason why the consummation should not take place. The Princess appears intact.”

The King nods, sinking into his chair bedside the Queen, Ser Criston and the Septon lingering behind them. Two servants walk in carrying a screen, and you stay where you are, further reclined on the bed.

Aemond follows them, looking as profoundly abused as you feel. You crane your neck to view him, and then decide it will cause you little comfort and naught but a crick.

You lie back, fists clenched at your sides, as your husband comes to stand at the end of the bed. Someone behind the screen coughs.

You try to look anywhere but at Aemond, who kneels on the bed, crawling the few paces towards you. He moves slowly, and when you glance back to see how much space still stretches between you, you are mortified to see the look of utter revulsion in his eye.

He turns away, his long hair creating a sheet between you both, and spits into his hand, shoving it under his billowing shirt.

You watch in a combination of horror and fascination as his arm moves, his hair shuddering with the motion, and when he turns back you can see his cock jutting towards you from under the hem of his shirt. You swallow audibly as he crawls forward, so that he looms over you, for there is no mistaking that he is huge, and you are not convinced whatsoever that he will fit inside you with no small amount of discomfort.

You slide further onto your back as Aemond places one hand on either side of you, his elbows extended as far as they will go so that it is only his hips brush tentatively against your thighs. His shirt falls over you, and you suck in your stomach in avoidance.

Aemond hovers, his hair creating a shield as he turns to the right and grasps himself once more. You swallow, sweat beading on your forehead as you register little but the brush of his muslin shirt against your arms and chest.

He shudders as he sinks heavily; his chest presses into yours and you are pushed down into the mattress, fixing your gaze on the scar that hovers inches above your face.

His teeth grit as you feel first his clenched fist against you, then the dull, throbbing heat of him as he presses against your entrance.

First it stings, and then it pinches, and then you’re gasping, trying to angle your hips to accommodate something that feels endlessly foreign.

You wish he would stop moving for a moment; give you a chance to adjust to a level of discomfort that you could at least stomach, but he keeps pressing forward, forcing you to screw your eyes closed and breathe out through your nose to avoid crying out.

Everything about his presence feels intrusive; Jace once described this act as natural, and you couldn’t think of a more inaccurate description.

Aemond begins breathing heavily as he draws back, providing you with momentarily relief before he invades again.

You can hear more heavy breathing, not Aemond's, behind the screen and you open your eyes, trying desperately to find anything to focus on beyond the dull weight of your uncle above you or the rattling, wheezing, musty respiration of your grandsire to your right.

The bookshelves to the left of your bed are full; they must be Aemond’s, you think wildly as he presses into you again.

You clench in a horrifying, miserable, unwilling response. His shirt covers your face; you cannot see for a moment, cannot breathe. You groan, not in pleasure, but in anguish, and close your eyes once more.

Someone in the room coughs.

Aemond snaps his hips forward, and the angle he hits within you causes your whole body to spasm in response; the discomfort abates for a moment and you gasp, your hands reaching out and groping blindly at Aemond's shoulders. He flinches, you can feel it beneath your palms and within you, and you move your arms back to your sides.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your eyes still pressed closed.

Aemond releases a sharp breath through his nose, and then picks up his pace, hammering into you relentlessly. It sears horribly.

You try to focus on breathing, but it is hard to muffle the whimpers that slide from your lips as Aemond grunts softly above you.

Finally, after what feels like hours, your husband releases a great huff of air that pushes your hair from your face as he stills above you. This is followed by a groan, not audible, but felt as he trembles slightly, and then the throb of him as you are flooded with warmth. Aemond pulls from you, the sticky gush of his seed following him, and you feel the weight of the bed shift as he steps to the floor.

You open your eyes slowly to see him looming above you, his singular eye fixed on the spot between your legs, an inscrutable expression on his face. You blush, moving to clench your knees together, but before you can Aemond reaches forward and grasps the sheet, tearing it from beneath you with a harsh rip that echoes through the otherwise silent chamber.

He pulls away, and you see the red spots of your blood marring the white linen as it dangles from his grip.

You sit up slightly, trying to ignore the sticky warmth dripping from your sex. You watch Aemond, his legs long and muscular beneath the hem of his shirt as he walks to the screen, pulling it back to reveal the audience behind. You grip the bottom of your shift and drag it down so that it covers you.

“It is done,” he says, holding up the bloodied sheet before tossing it at one of the maidservants lingering near the doorway. She catches it and scampers, the door clanging shut behind her. “You may see yourselves out.”

The Septon clears his throat. “There will need to be another examination of the Prin-”

“It is done,” Aemond interrupts, even as he turns and stalks off towards the doorway in the corner, his voice echoing behind him. “I wish to bathe; you may leave.”

The King sighs before attempting to stand. You are still lying supine as two Kingsguard rush forward, grasping him by his elbows. The Queen rises, throwing you a look made of pity and disdain before sweeping her skirts towards the antechamber into which Aemond disappeared.

The door creaks open, and a small parade of pubescent girls rush forward, eagerly dodging the screen that the pages carry from the rooms that are, from this moment, to be yours.

One of the girls, with ears so large she can be nothing but a Florent, comes to your bedside and takes your hand.

“Oh, Princess,” she sighs daintily as you gape. “The Queen sent for us; your husband has taken your innocence, as the Seven require of him, but we will pray to the Father for his glory, and your continued virtue, and mayhaps the Mother will give you a child.”

Drunk still, you scoff slightly even as the indignity of Aemond’s seed drips from you. The Florent girl gives her companions a look, and they flock to you.

“A child,” one of them smiles at you. “Can you imagine anything more lovely?”

Another one, dull in only the ways that a Tarly can be, places her palms out even as her eyes well tragically with tears. “We have yet to pray to the Maiden for her lost virginity.”

You giggle at that, and even as your new ladies look upon you, scandalized, you think of your mother and laugh abruptly aloud.

✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵

Keep Reading on AO3: 2. Farewells 3. Young Blood 4. Visitors 5. Breech 6. Aemos 7. Moderation 8. Sapphire 9. Whispers 10. Blight 11. Stitches 12. The Lord of the Tides 13. Aeyla 14. Shield 15. Interlude - Storm's End 16. Luke 17. Sanguine 18. Ascending 19. Guilt 20. Wrath 21. Rook's Rest 22. Prince Regent 23. Jace 24. Fall 25. The Black Queen 26. Interlude - Alys Rivers 27. Ashes of Roses 28. Heirs 29. Mhyrax 30. God's Eye 31. Interlude - Strong 32. Unconditional 33. Ivy Inn 34. Second of His Name 35. Dragonstone 36. Home 37. Alys 38. The Hour of the Wolf 39. The House of the Dragon 40. Epilogue - The Dragon in Winter

#house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfic

115 notes · View notes