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fetusgooseandjuice · 5 months

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Trust Me

Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)

Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!

You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.

Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.

Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.

When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.

After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.

You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?

‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.

But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.

Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.

You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.

The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.

Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.

You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.

The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.

As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.

“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.

You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”

She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”

You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.

“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”

“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.

You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.

Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.

“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”

Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.

“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.

For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.

“Since we left the states.” you admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”

You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.

“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”

Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.

“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.

“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”

You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.

The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.

“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”

You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.

“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”

“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”

“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.

“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.

“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”

Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.

“Nat, what are you—”

“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”

So you did.

Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.

You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.

“Nat, I don’t think—”

“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”

“I do, but—”

“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”

“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.

A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.

The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.

Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.

After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.

She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.

“Told you to trust me.”

~ end ~

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff mcu #natasha fanfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha alianovna romanova

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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 6 days

Text

Quieter thoughts

Summary: Wanda told you not to disturb her but you didn’t want to be alone right now, maybe she’d understand?

Warnings: Just fluff and a sweet ending (I wrote this is 20 minutes please mind any spelling errors and such 😂)

Words: idk but it’s short-ish

“Wanda?” You dared peep your head into Wanda’s office, she told you not to bother her but you didn’t want to be alone right now, you needed her “what is it Y/n? I’m very busy and told you not to disturb me”

You flinched at the sternness of her voice indicating just how busy she is “I’m-I’m sorry Wands it’s o-okay I’ll talk to you later”

Wanda hummed in response not taking her eyes off her screen as you closed the door behind you and decided to just go to bed, hopefully your thoughts will be a little quieter if you’re in the dark and asleep

Not even bothering to get changed you slipped into the bed you shared with Wanda and closed your eyes wishing the day away

*********************************

It was about 2 hours later when Wanda finally finished her work and emerged from her office stretching her stiff limbs “Y/n?” You didn’t answer

“Y/n?!” It wasn’t late, you were normally still up at this time, where were you?

Finally coming to the bedroom she sees you under the covers in the pitch black, turning the lights on she didn’t hear you make any sound or attempt to move “Y/n? Are you awake? Sweet girl?”

She came to stand next to you pulling the covers away revealing you still in your clothes from the day and dried tears on your face “oh honey why were you so upset?” Wanda gently took the covers away and started removing the uncomfortable looking clothes

You remained asleep through everything, you must’ve really been tired, finally Wanda picked you up and took you to the bathroom and turned the tap on for a nice bath for you

“Baby? Come on princess wake up” Wanda gently shook you and placed kisses around your face eventually waking you up “hmm don’t wanna…” you tried curling into Wanda’s body but she didn’t let you “no honey come on you need to have a bath let’s go” you felt yourself be lifted up and placed into the warm bath

“There you go don’t you feel better?” You didn’t respond instead just started playing with the bubbles from the bubble bath Wanda put in “what’s going on Y/n you never go to bed in your clothes”

You shrugged refusing to meet her eye trying to sink into the bath further

Wanda decided you needed quiet so she chose to stay quiet and just sit with you, when she offered to wash your hair you accepted and let her “you know, I might plait your hair like Nats, Maria showed me how to do it and she said it really lifts Nat’s mood up, whenever she’s sad she gets plaits and instantly she feels better, shall I do that?”

“I don’t want that, I’m not a child and that sounds very childish” Wanda was happy you were talking but she wasn’t happy about your attitude “okay, are you calling Natasha childish? I don’t think she’d like that detka”

“Don’t care” you said point blankly and Wanda sighed “my love I’m trying very hard here but please you need to help me understand”

You stood up and got out of the bath reaching for a towel to wrap around yourself “I don’t want to talk about it I just want to go the bed and you’re not helping!” storming out of the bathroom you slammed the door leaving a bewildered Wanda still sitting next to the bath confused

Exiting the bathroom 10 minutes later Wanda saw you once again curled up under the bed covers, but she was happy you’d put some PJs on, she didn’t say a word as she climbed into bed with you, she didn’t pull you into her to cuddle or face you, she knew you needed time

After a while you finally spoke again “you were mad at me earlier when I tried to ask for your attention”

Wanda thought back, she did remember you asking for her and she dismissed you “baby I’m sorry I did snap at you didn’t I?” She was facing you now and offered you a smile and you just gave a small smile back “why else were you upset my love?”

“My heads been a mess and I needed you but you didn’t want me”

Wanda’s heart broke and she pulled you into a tight hug “my love I’m so sorry I never want you to feel that way ever again I’m really sorry” she kissed your head keeping you close

“How about I take some time off? Its been so long since we’ve gone away, let’s go on a vacation somewhere”

You were quickly nodding in agreement already thinking where to go “the Bahamas??” You shot up out of Wanda’s arms grabbing your phone searching for flights “we can leave tomorrow!”

Wanda was so happy you were happy again, she hated seeing her girl sad “hold on princess, I’ll need to finish the week then I can take 2 weeks okay?”

You sighed sadly “okay I guess I can wait all that time”

Wanda kissed your nose laying down and pulling you atop her “it’s three days my love I promise it’ll go quick, you can buy us both new bikinis if you like?”

“Yeah! Matching ones too!” You went for your phone again but Wanda snatched it away putting it on the side table “ah ah princess time for bed now, we can lie in tomorrow, my work can wait”

“Okay, goodnight I love you”

Wand smiled kissing you one final time “love you too”

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel au #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximov x reader

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jazziejax · 21 days

Text

The Challenge

Pairing- BlackOC! X Challengers Cast

Summary- moments between Orion O’Connor and the Challengers cast that the people loved

Warnings- swear words, flirtatious between costars

Author’s Note- This sucks raccoon ass, it’s 2am, and I haven’t written in a very long time so cut me some slack, I beg you! I’m gonna write for Challengers at some point but I’m waiting because I want to write a series and I’m gonna need it on streaming services to do that(because I already paid to see it twice). But I’ll probably write some one-off things for you guys. Sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes. As I said, it’s 2am.

Word Count- 2,686

“So, I have to ask.” The woman interviewer said, mainly looking over at Orion. Said girl’s expression went from calm to suspicious as she turned her head and side eyed the woman. The interviewer was about to open her mouth to speak again before Orion lightly gasped as she faced forward again.

“Let me guess.” She stated, leaning forward in her seat. Everyone paused, waiting for the girl to speak. “You’re gonna ask if we’re married.” She said, her left index finger motioning between her and the British man next to her. The woman’s mouth fell open a little bit as she stared at the brown woman across from her.

“How’d you know that?” She asked, genuine surprise in her voice. Orion slightly nodded as she adjusted herself in her seat. She crossed her right leg over her left and her body was slightly tilted to where she leaned Josh’s way. “Everyone has the same look in their eyes before they ask.” She shrugged. The tension of such a question could be felt throughout the room but also on social media. Fans went crazy with this clip, seeing the obvious signs that Orion was tired of such a question and was getting bad at hiding it. Some people called her rude while others defended her saying the interviewer was bad at her job for asking the same thing they already know the answer to.

“I just wanted to know how you guys felt about such rumors going around about you two?” The interviewer asked. Orion looked over at Josh, seeing if he wanted to give the question a go. Said man glanced down a little to make eye contact with the woman next to him before turning to the woman in front of him. “Um, the rumors don’t necessarily bother me. Not anymore at least.” He stated. “People have been saying this since the beginning of our careers, almost, because we became friends right before and have been for so long. So, I guess it just seemed like we were married?” Josh said with confusion written all over his face, his tone rising at the end since he was more so asking a question.

Orion dry chuckled as she watched the man deliver the answer she was tired of giving. “I say it’s rather flattering, in a sense, that people think we are married. Because Orion is an amazing woman that anyone would be lucky to call a wife.” He finished softly, glancing over at the woman next to him. “But no, we’re just best friends with the same name.” He said, visibly pink in the face as he continuously glanced at the woman next to him.

With the new craze of Challengers, every cast member gained new fans along with the one they already had and all were tuned in on their press tour. Social media went crazy over Josh and Orion, new fans because of their on and off screen chemistry while old fans were just excited to see the pair in another project together.

Orion made a cute pout at his words, her face heating as she looked at him in his blue eyes. Her big eyes reflected the fluorescent lights above them as she stated into his. “He’s too sweet for his own damn good.” She said in a sad tone as if she was crying. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a split second before raising it and dropping her façade. “Let me just say this.” She started, sitting up straight in her seat. Zendaya and Mike, who felt as if they were third wheeling the whole time, chuckled at her. “I don’t understand why I keep getting asked that when it could be easily answered by taking a look at my hand.” She said, showing her left hand. She used her right index finger to rub her left ring finger as she stared directly into the camera lens. “I do not have on a ring.” She said, shaking her head. She grabbed ahold of Josh’s and and held it up. Before she could even speak, her cast mates burst out laughing, knowing she was very riled up, which was quite amusing.. “He does not have on a ring.” She then looked back at the interviewer. “I would never do such a thing. I would be mad at Josh if he allowed me to do such a thing.” She stressed. “And I would also never let him or any man disrespect me in such a way. Isn’t that right?” She asked, looking over at the British man next to her. Josh immediately nodded.

“Correct.”

The initial context of video was ignored once clips hit other media sites. All people could talk about was the sheer amount of times Orion and Josh caught the other one staring. And if not them then the camera caught it. They all went feral over the last line, finding the way she demanded an answer out of him attractive and the way he answered her immediately. The compatibility between the two could be felt through the screen. Many edits were made out of the two and their characters, Dion and Patrick.

For backstory, Orion and Josh have been friends for many years. Meeting each other on the set of The Durrells where Orion was the only American that used an English accent for an obscene amount of time to play her character ‘Daisy’. They were only together in a couple of scenes but off screen, Josh and Orion became good friends. They grew even closer when Josh moved in with Orion when she went back to America. He would be staying for a while for work and Orion wanted the transition to be easy for her friend since he was such a big help for her in Europe, so she offered him a room in her New York flat. That’s when the rumors started. Seeing pictures of this pair of up and coming actors with the same last name, doing activities and living together. They blushed and joked at the rumors at first but after a while it started to get pretty annoying.

This being brought up again, fans started researching for old pictures of the two and they couldn’t get enough of the pair. Pictures of them holding pinkies as they walked around New York. Most of them from the same day as Orion showed him all of her favorite spots. There were pictures of them on the subway reading a book together. Pictures of them on visiting each other on set when they worked on different projects. So many pictures for the fans to choose from.

A while later in another interview, the energy seemed to be more prominent between them all.

“Do you think is most like their character?” The interviewer asked them. All of them immediately pointed at Orion, who even pointed at herself. Seeing that they all had the same idea, they laughed at one another. “Why is that? What makes you like you’re character?” He questioned again.

“Um, it’s actually funny because they changed things around for Dion once I was casted for her.” Orion started. “Her name was changed for be more boyish after I was casted because Luca and Justin liked the contrast of such a sweet and feminine character with a “boys” name.” She stated, doing air quotations around the word boy. “They did a lot of tweaking to the script after I was chosen for…whatever creative reasons they have.” She chuckled, waving her hands to indicate she didn’t know why but it was slowly up to them.

“I would hope I would be the most like my character because it’s almost based off of me at this point.” She shrugged. “But I would say I'm most like her in the way I love and express myself. In the movie, Dion is very physical with her friends which I tend do to be.” She chuckled to herself. Mike nodded his head next. She looked over at him, her smile big on her face as she blushed out of embarrassment. “Oh yeah, she’s like a baby koala. Or a sloth.” He started, seeing that the attention was on him. Everyone laughed. “She was always on top of someone in between takes. She falls out when she laughs, and she’s always sleeping.” Mike said, sitting up in his chair as he listed, his voice showing mock annoyance. Orion covered her face in embarrassment, leaning her head back as she laughed.

“I’m sorry, okay! This is just how I am!” She shouted. After a while of everyone laughing, they calmed down and sat still in their seats. “I see where my affection is not wanted.” Orion said sassily as she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs and leaned away from Mike. Mike groaned at her dramatic behavior and rolled his eyes too, doing the same as her. Seeing this, Orion softly scoffed at him. “Art wouldn't treat me this way.” She joked, causing laughter to fill the room again.

“Why do you guys say Orion is like Dion? Where do the similarities lie in your eyes?” The interviewer asked. Mike was the first to answer.

“I say she’s like Dion in the way she stated, herself .” He said, gesturing over to Orion. “Dion is a very loving and passionate character. You see that in the way she treats her friends, and in the games she plays. She doesn’t play for competition , she plays for the feeling it gives her. Like in the scene where she goes against Tashi, it didn’t cause them any strife because she doesn’t see it as ‘who’s better’, she sees it as a relationship and almost a way of communicating.” He said. “I see that a lot in Orion because she doesn’t really communicate through words, she communicates through her actions, in real life and within a character.” He finished. There was a moment of silence as everyone sat with what he said. Mike quickly looked around the room at the silence before looking over at Orion.

“Aww, Mikey.” Orion said as she pouted and leaned over to give him a side hug, placing her head on his shoulder. Breaking the tension in the air, the room chuckled. “He knows me so well.” Orion spoke up, placing her cheek against his with her hand on the other side of his face, smushing them together. They both smiled, feeling their cheeks mush together.

Fans were already in the Art Donaldson/Mike Faist train before they even saw the movie and especially afterwards. During most of the press tour the cute moments were between Josh and Orion and Zendaya and Orion, since the girl has previous history with them. But when Orion and Mike had their cute moments, fans almost felt like they were in love.

It was admitted in an interview Mike had without the whole cast he really admired the work Orion did before he formally met her. He first saw her on the comedy show Community. He found her really funny there and could tell her chemistry with the cast was impeccable. But her acting skills really shined to him when he saw her in Fleabag and The Handmaid's Tale. When he heard that she was going to be in the movie with him, he had a fanboy moment to himself for a few hours before calming down. Little did he know that Orion admitted herself in a solo interview that she used to have a crush on Mike after first seeing him in Dear Evan Hanson. She said that even though she hated that musical, she watched it for him. That’s also why she went and saw Brokeback Mountain live. Fans loved hearing this information, the Art and Dion edits having a mega surplus afterwards. Their interview moments together were cute but people mainly loved their red carpet interactions, Orion either bullying him for what he had on or the way he posed. She never let him live.

Another moment that went viral was their interview talking about intimate scenes together.

“Was that awkward to do with your best friend?” The journalist asked Orion.

“No, because we’ve done that before.” She answered quickly, not thinking of what she said. Zendaya’s head snapped to her, eyes a little wide as she gave the girl next to her a questionable glare. Mike raised his eyebrows while Josh tried to hide his laughter, and his red face, behind his hands. Seeing the reactions she got around the room, Orion chuckled before trying to save herself. “Not like that. I just mean I’ve seen him naked before.” She defended no better. Now all you could hear was the laughter of her cast mates. Mike and Z leaning on one another as they laughed while Josh put his head in his hands. “You guys know what I mean. We’ve done things like this before.” She continued to try to defend herself. Seeing her get nowhere, Josh placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked over at the cute smiling British man next to her, unconsciously smiling along with him.

“What? Tell them this isn’t something new for us.” She demanded the man. Josh placed his large hand on top of hers that was resting on the arm of the chair. “Our characters in The Durrells were in a relationship. That’s what she means.” Josh said, his face still red from trying to hold in his laughter. And blushing.

“The real question is, did you enjoy it?” Orion asked, looking over at the man next to her. But before he could speak, Mike spoke first. “Oh, I enjoyed it.” Mike joked. “Art and Dion were like rabbits at Stanford.” He emphasized.

“Her and Patrick were pretty wild too.” Zendaya said. “

“I think Dion was just like that with everyone, honestly.” Josh said. At that, Orion turned back to him, an eyebrow raised. “What’s that supped to mean?”

“No, byy everyone I mean, Tashi, Art and Patrick.” Josh rushed out, looking her right in the eyes. That’s something the fans caught into a lot. Whenever Orion looked his way, he would never break eye contact. No matter how many times she glanced off to the side or down at her hands playing with his, he never took his eyes off her face, especially when she was speaking. “Which is quite interesting when you take into account Dion was almost in control of everything.” He finished.

Orion immediately rolled her eyes and turned away from him. . Before she could say what she was going to, her other cast mates spoke in agreement. “100%.” Zendaya said.

“I’m not about to have this conversation again.” Orion spoke. “Dion is innocent and she was done wrong.” She said, looking directly into the camera.

“Dion played everyone.” Mike said.

“Like a game of tennis.” Josh finished, a small smirk on his lips. His eyes never left Orion, as if he was waiting for her to turn around. Mike and Zendaya groaned at him while Orion turned to him, a smile on her face when she looked his way. “That was so corny.” She said through her laughter that increased the more she thought about the terrible joke. Oriron loved a bad joke that was delivered kind of awkwardly. The rest of the interview consisted of small moments between Josh and Orion. Jim raising his hand to play with her dangling earring when Mike was talking. Her pinkie wrapped around his when both of their arms rested on their chairs.

Needless to say, the people loved Orion O’Oonnor and were on the edge of their seats to get more of her.

oconnorschildren

liked by, joshoconnorstoe, orionstar, and 36, 792 more

oconnorschildren you mean to tell me that this is Josh O’Connor and Orion O’Connor when they lived together???

view 3,944 comments

zendayacollective sups cute!!! ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

mikeyfaist they look like a couple

orionstar and they’re wondering why people assumed they were married 🙄

⤷ oconnorschildren right! they act in love and get mad at us!

⤷ joshoconnorstoe they should just get married

tomdayaofficial I don’t know who I want her with more, Josh or Mike

⤷ oconnorschildren me neither, she’s has such great chemistry with both! I love her with them!

liversometennis I can’t wait until challengers is on streaming services so I can’t watch her kiss them all day everyday

zendayastwin I wish people would post the moments between her and Z, they are so cute together. Small hints of flirting but amazing friends.

⤷ oconnorschildren I’ll post some in the future because they are cute together!

#challengersmovie #challengers #art donaldson #tashi donaldson #tashi duncan #zenday coleman #zendaya #josh o connor #josh o'connor #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #mike faist #jazziejaxwriting #jazziejaxchallengers

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atinyniki · 2 months

Text

dear (ex)lover.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader

genre: pure angst, letter

warnings + additional info: seungmin is referred to as seungmin and min, seungmin was (and still is) a dick, seungmin is a player, seungmin led reader on, reader reminisces the past, reader blames seungmin for the downfall of their relationship (rightfully so), reader has past trauma from relationships, mentions of waiting till marriage, reader has body image issues, reader has been depressed, reader has trust issues, reader misses seungmin, just a really really sad angsty letter, intended lowercase, written in letter format.

authors note: okay. im so sorry for this... this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1033

dear lover,

why don’t we talk anymore? i remember, you told me i was your best friend once. i remember, i was your best friend before i was your lover. i understand, your love for me is gone now, but weren’t we supposed to be friends? didn’t you tell me we could go back to the way it was? so why don’t you talk to me? why do you avoid my eyes when you see me? why do you ignore my texts?

why do you only speak to me when it’s convenient for you?

i remember when i first opened up to you, my love. i told you i didn’t fit in with the group. i didn't think you needed me, and i didn’t think the others did either. you told me you didn’t know you needed me until i was in your life. do you still need me? why did you love me like that if you were just going to ghost me in the end? we talked about so much. you bought me my wedding ring. i wore my heart on my sleeve for you. you gave me a promise ring. why did you break your promise? why did you write so many love letters to me, knowing that you were leaving in the end?

what did i do to be treated like this? i should have been better to you, right? it’s my fault, right? i had to have done something… right? what did i do? i can do better, i can. i can be a better friend, i promise. you were my first real friend. you held me when things were hard. i need you to hold me once more. you always did my hair all nice to distract me. i miss when you’d braid it. you even played with my stuffed animals with me. you were the first person who accepted me for me.

why don’t you like me anymore? why am i always the one to approach you? did you only speak to me because i spoke to you first? was this all one-sided and you only spoke to me because i annoyed you till you replied? i didn’t know. i didn’t know that i was being annoying. i didn’t realize it. i thought you wanted me too. i’ve been having nightmares again. you told me you’d be there. it’s funny, isn’t it? you promised you’d always be there, but now you’re the cause of them. you broke my trust. you fucked up, and i forgave you. again and again, i forgave you. i took you back for every mistake you made.

why did you take my heart for granted? why did you break me like this? am i unlovable? did you grow tired of me? could you not stand me anymore like the others? the boys told me what you said about me. what you said about my body. i know i don’t look the same anymore, but can’t you still love me? am i really all that different now? or maybe you just don’t want someone who rots in bed all day. yeah, they told me that part too. maybe you couldn’t deal with my past trauma. i’ve lost people in the past like i lost you before. you told me you wouldn’t leave me. not the way they did, at least. but you did. you left, and you ruined me in the process.

maybe i am unlovable. maybe this was meant to happen. was it for the better? did you mean it when you said you loved me those last nights we spent together? did you find it fun? breaking my heart? was it nice to watch me fall apart that night on my bedroom floor? was it fun to use my own pain against me? was it fun telling me it was my fault? did it take some of your guilt away?

i’m mad at you, still.

but a part of me still loves you. a part of me still wants to forgive you, and i don’t know why. i shouldn’t, i know. you don’t deserve my forgiveness. you don’t deserve anything i have to offer. but i still want to forgive you. i still want to love you like i used to. i still want to tell you that im here for you, and i still want to hold you while we fall asleep. i still want to brush away your tears, and i still want to do your skincare for you. but you’re fading away from my life. i don’t know the person i fell in love with anymore, because they aren’t you. i miss his sweet voice, and i miss his melting touch. i miss the sound of his heartbeat, and i miss his heart. but it’s always going to be you, isn’t it? it’s always been you. you’re the person i love most, but the feelings are fading away too. i want to keep them with me. i want to hold it all so tight that your love can’t escape anymore, but you’re gone. you’re gone, and you took my heart with you.

i’m sorry. was i not good enough for you? i wish i could have been the one for you. i don’t know if i’m allowed to say it, but i miss you, min. i miss our late night laughter, i miss our runs to the coffee shop. i miss the bond we had. where did it go? why am i the only one putting effort into this stupid friendship anymore? why do i always text first? why am i begging for you to love me again?

it’s stupid.

this is stupid.

you’re stupid.

i hate you.

i hate you for using me.

i hate you so much for ruining us.

i hate you for ruining what we had.

i hate you for ruining every memory with you.

i hate you for ruining me for anybody else.

you ruined me.

they’ll never be you.

no one will ever be you.

i hate you, kim seungmin.

i hate you.

i miss you.

i miss you, and i hate it.

i hate it.

i hate you.

i love you, your ex lover.

</3

155 notes · View notes

syndxlla · 1 year

Text

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward, and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between BOTW and TOTK.

Heavily inspired by my Zelink thoughts

I wanted to dig into the dirty, grimly reality of being the saviors of the world and not knowing how to be the savior of yourself. But you can find that safety in another person.

Fan fiction warnings: Canon-typical violence, eventual smut (in later chapters, characters are consenting adults), references to self-harm, eating-disorders, and a lot of angst. Each chapter will have chapter-specific warnings.

Chapter one: I used to tie your shoes

Song: We’ll never have sex by Leith Ross

Summary: Fresh off Hyrule Field, Link and Zelda have to face life after the Calamity, and come to terms with the long road to physical, emotional, and mental recovery.

Warnings: Vomiting, trauma, canon-typical violence, eating-sensitivity

Word count: 3.7k words

Author’s Note: I am so excited to share this. Please share and support this in anyway. I drew this art for the cover :) chapter begins after the page break. I love you guys. Also, these chapters won’t be heavily edited. Ignore any grammatical/spelling errors pls

Time. We never seem to have enough time. Green grass burns soft red embers into the field, a horse’s mane is rebraided at the nearest stable, and the stars shine as if nothing changed. Because it hadn’t, not really. The sun will still rise in the east and set in the west. The birds will still sing their songs at daybreak and the fireflies will still flicker at dusk. Nothing changed, but everything did. The air feels lighter, the sun feels warmer and yet Zelda’s fingers still shake as if she was in the snowy Hebra peaks.

The Princess by nature, is very gentle. She’s soft and patient at heart, but was placed under such strenuous situations all through her youth that caused her to often snap or lash out. But not now. Currently she is silent, stone-cold and confused. She was in shock. And Link could tell.

“Here.” He pulls out a baked apple from his pack, handing it to her. He has to get her attention twice before she finally takes it, their hands brushing for a moment. Her awareness returns to her gaze then, her bright-green eyes meeting his.

“I-I’m so sorry.” She sighs, her voice weak. “I’m just… so tired.” Link tries not to show his distress, but she notices his demeanor change as well. “How much further?” She says, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Probably another hour and a half. It’s just through those mountains.” He points.

“Dueling peaks. I remember.” She nods. “I remember everything.”

“Everything?” He asks as he starts to dig around a pack on the rear end of Epona, searching for his rito attire. It was starting to get dark, and she hadn’t stopped shaking since they left Castle Town almost three hours ago.

Zelda nods once.

Her silence speaks volumes.

He yanks out his snowquill armor, finally. “Do you remember anything from the last hundred years?” She doesn’t answer right away, she instead takes a smaller than small bite out of the apple. “Zel? Can I put this on you? You’re still shivering.” He asks, looking at her blank, traumatized stare. “It’s from the Rito, it’s soft as a cloud and will keep you warm for the rest of the way.”

“The Rito.” She sighs. “Revali…”

Link realizes that she hasn’t had any time to process what she just went through. She had spent the last one hundred years deeply focused, probably in a trance-like state. He places a hand on her cheek. “Look at me.” His voice is gentle and welcoming, not forcing her at all. She looks at him, their eyes locking. “Breathe with me.”

They take two deep, heavy breaths. They sync their inhales, exhaling together.

“It’s over. It’s all over, okay?” He reassures her. “It’s not coming back. It’s just us now, alright?”

She swallows, still emotionless. “You’ve changed.” She says.

“So have you.” Link smiles in an attempt to comfort her. “Can I put this shirt on you?” He asks again. She answers faster than she usually had, nodding twice this time. Link bunches up the excess fabric before pulling the head-opening over her hair. He then guides each one of her hands through the arm-holes. Link takes a moment to adjust the garb around her torso until it was probably positioned around her shaking body. She immediately sighs in relief.

“You talk more.” She mumbles, looking at him as he gently wraps his fingers around her long, golden hair and softly pulls it out of the shirt, knowing how much it irritates him when his hair is loose underneath a shirt.

He smiles again, “I do. Some people say I don’t shut up.” He tries to lighten the mood.

“Like who?”

“Impa.” He sighs.

Zelda’s eyes light up with that name. “Impa?”

He hums and nods. “We can go visit her when you’re feeling stronger, okay?”

“Okay…” Zelda looked down into her lap, the skirt of her goddess dress was barely white anymore. “I am going to get stronger, right?” She asks, her voice tender and broken.

Link’s heart sinks. Not because he’s worried she won’t, but rather because he feels responsible for putting her in this state.

“Of course.” He reassures. He believed it. He wanted to believe it.

“I’m… just so tired.” She repeats herself.

“I know, come on, let's get you a bed.” He then picks her up bridal style from the ground. They had stopped in the first place to get that rito armor for her. She rests her head against his chest as he lifts her onto Epona. She smells like burnt oil and exhaustion. He probably isn’t smelling any better.

They wouldn’t get to Hateno until noon at the earliest tomorrow, and traveling wasn’t doing anything for her recovery. He gets on Epona behind her, letting her weak body rest against his chest as they make their way to Dueling Peaks Stable. The road is quiet, so much quieter than it ever has been. The pair of lizalfos always swimming in the river aren’t there, and even the crickets suppress their chirps.

It’s post-apocalyptic. Literally. Link isn’t sure how to feel.

She throws up a few hundred feet from the stable. She gags and lurches over the side of the horse, somehow managing to keep it off of anyone. Not much comes out, she hasn’t eaten in over a century, but Link frowns when he realizes the apple probably triggered it. He silently curses himself out for causing her any form of distress. She dry heaves violently, and Link tries to hold her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. When she finishes, she holds her breath.

She can’t decide if she feels like she lost a bit of dignity or not. She holds back the tears that well in her eyes. Link breathes in to say something, but she raises her hand in protest. She would rather they act like it never happened. Neither of them say anything from there on, they just keep riding the final minute of the journey.

Everyone at the stable was asleep except for an attendant… who was also treading precariously between consciousness and a deep rest behind the counter.

“Excuse me?” Link asks to wake him up, hopping off of Epona after making sure Zelda would still be comfortable in his absence. She would never admit she wasn’t.

The man stirs awake with a jolt. He yawns, slightly startled, “So sorry, young man.” Link wouldn’t necessarily call himself young. He smirks softly.

“I’d like to board this horse till the morning, and we’d like one soft bed, please.” Link nods before setting down the required rupees. The man squints his eyes, taking the money in hand.

“Ah! It’s you! Link, was it?” He asks when Link turns his back to help Zelda down from the horse. “Jeez, you haven’t passed through here in at least six months! We were holding onto that old mare for you!” He gestures to their stables where a small gray spotted horse sleeps. Link’s first horse since he woke up from his century-long slumber. He only rode her in the beginning, when he was doing chores between Hateno, Kakariko and one time a longer trip to Zora’s Domain. But she’s old and weak, which is why she was easy to catch when Link was still regaining his strength. He stopped taking her out when he found Epona in the western part of Central Hyrule.

“Yeah… you guys can let her free.” He says as he sets Zelda down on the ground. She holds her cold hands together.

“Well uhh.. we tried. You see, after four months at a stable we let go of any forgotten pony’s, but she kept coming back.” He chuckled, his voice exhibiting a distinctive nasality.

“Here,” Link hands him a red rupee, not wanting to discuss an old horse any longer when he literally has the closest thing to a God in this world resting her head on his back. “Keep her for another month, I’ll come take care of her then. Okay?” Link asks. “Can I get that bed now?” Not impolite or forceful, he never was. He’s assertive but has a comforting cadence to his tone. For being such a talented swordsman, guard and easily the most deadly hylian in the entire kingdom, he was never rude or condescending. He was welcoming, and little kids often looked up at him with intimidation when they first met him, but it didn’t ever take long until they were chasing him with tree-branches while he fled and begged for mercy, letting them take him down with ease. The kids at the stables loved him, knew him by name, and would play as him in their silly pretend games.

The stable-man replies, “Of course! But you only asked for one bed, it’s not big enough to fit both of you.”

“I know, it’s for her not me.” Link then starts to guide her into the stable, where it’s much warmer and safer. Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean it's safe. Hyrule is a dangerous place by nature, especially if you’re two century-old Gods being hunted for sport with the faces of children.

“You won’t sleep?” Zelda asks quietly behind him.

He doesn’t directly answer, and instead guides her to the bed. She’s weary, and he’s terrified of her not waking up. He wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he wanted to. He helps the Princess sit in the bed, and kneels before her to untie her sandals. When he touches the leather, he immediately gets transported into another memory.

It rips through him, just like the memories he had images of. Suddenly, he’s kneeling in the same position, but instead he was outside of the spring of courage. He looks up to see the clear sky, it’s sunset, and then his eyes meet Zeldas. Her face is rosy, and her eyes don’t have the blank stare they possess in the current time. He looks down at his fingers, tying the straps around her ankle.

“Really, you don’t have to do that.” She hums. He doesn’t respond. He never did back then. He finishes wrapping the leather around itself and then stands up. His face is emotionless. She looks at him, they’re about the same height. “I won’t be long this time.” She says. “I’m not expecting much anyways.” She sighs and then walks past him, but before she can get very far, he gently grabs onto her arm, holding her back. He doesn’t say anything but she can read his expression. He’s trying to tell her to have faith this time, just one more time.

Surely the Goddess would commune with her.

She shakes her head, and wades into the warm waters of the spring. Link turns to watch her, how her hair cascaded down her back, how her hands balled into fists. She turns around to look at him, their eyes meet. She smiles.

He comes back as fast as the scene played in his memory. He blinks a few times, and looks up at her. She doesn’t look any different, very little—if any—time seemed to pass. He doesn’t usually experience memories with someone, he wonders if she realized anything happened. Link didn’t even consider the fact he would keep receiving memories after the fact. His stomach turns, he feels like he’s lived two completely different lives and is forced to remember things from one that he doesn’t even relate to anymore. He doesn’t feel like the same person, the boy he was a hundred years ago is a complete stranger to him.

Link much preferred this life.

And that scares Zelda.

“I just remembered something.” He says. Zelda hums in response, a light-hearted noise that implies an inquiry. He elaborates, “I used to tie your sandals for you at the springs, didn’t I?” He asks.

Zelda smiles for the first time since they defeated Ganon. It’s a small pull of her lips, not showing any teeth but her eyes finally light back up. After she had asked if he remembered her on the field, she collapsed, not even aware of her own exhaustion until that moment. He ran to her aid, and ever since then she felt woozy, it only got worse the further from the castle they got.

“You did, yes.” She says. “I never asked you to, but since I was in the dress, you insisted.” She sighs. Link grunts in response. “It was very chivalrous.” Zelda adds.

They look at each other for a minute. Not saying anything. It was late, and two beds down there was a set of kid brothers sleeping. Link remembered them from their last visit. One of them wanted nothing to do with him, trying to act mature and ‘cool’. Link eventually won him over, though. They don’t speak out of fear of waking anyone. Zelda’s smile slowly fades away, and Link swallows thickly. They will never be the same.

He pulls her sandals off, her feet are filthy with century-old mud. He silently smiles about that. The closest thing to a Goddess in the entire world has dirty feet. How human of her.

Then, after pulling down the heavy rito-down blanket so she can slide in, he helps Zelda swing her legs into the bed. He pulls the blanket up to her neck, she lays on her side facing him. Her hands find their way up to her face, resting her cheek against them. Link pulls a short stool over to the bed, sitting on it and looking at her, bending at the waist.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” She asks in a timid, sleepy voice.

Link’s heart just about breaks when she asks. “Never.” He shakes his head. He takes his gloved hand and tucks a piece of her loose hair behind her pointed-ears. He lets his fingers linger a little bit longer than they should. “I will never ever leave you again.”

“Promise?” She asks, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Promise.” He whispers, “Just as long as you promise to never leave me, okay?” He asks, ignoring the lump in this throat.

“Promise.” She says, taking her pinky finger and sticking it out for him. He wraps his finger with hers, which is far daintier and softer than he's ever been. She is a Princess, after all.

“Wake up in the morning, okay?” He whispers.

“Mhm.” She hums as her eyes slowly close. He tries to disconnect their pinky fingers, but she holds onto his. He leaves his hand in that position, letting her hold it until she falls fast asleep.

Link doesn’t move his hand until he’s certain it won’t wake her up from her much needed rest. He looks at her gentle, soft face. No one even understands what she just went through, no one ever will. He’s worried sick that she won’t make it through the night, and he keeps leaning his head down to listen to her breathing, or places a few fingers against her forehead to check her temperature.

He does his best to stay vigilant the entire night, not once even looking away from her. But just before the sun rises, his body suddenly catches up with his mind. He also just had the most demanding battle of his life. His muscles started to ache, and he developed a headache. He was just a boy, after all. More than anything, his sword arm was weak, and fire-hot pain shot up and down through it. He probably overused it fightin the calamity.

He keeps telling himself that he’s fine. He has to be fine, for Zelda. His arm isn’t that bad, what really hurts was his heart. Usually he’d just down a fairy tonic and maybe go to the hot springs if he was in the area but this pain was different. A twisting and contracting ache in his chest pulled and tugged on his lungs and pulse. It’s the same pain he felt when he remembered Mipha, and more specifically, the pain he felt when he dreamed about his family before the resurrection.

The dream that gave him the memories of a little sister with blonde hair like his collecting fireflies in her pockets. Her laugh echoing, the call of an older man, the image of a royal guards sword leaned up against the dinner table. The touch of his father’s hand as he rubs Link’s back to sleep.

Link’s first sword.

He wakes up like a fire, standing up and almost toppling over. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. He could hear the soft tune of the penny whistle playing the standard stable theme, and the two little brothers played tag outside. He curses and looks down at Zelda.

Her bed is empty, and his heart completely stops. He starts breathing hard and heavy, his entire nervous system feels as though it’s pulled into stasis. How could he make such a foolish mistake? He swings his sword over his back, strapping his shield to his leathers and turns around in a wild-hunt to see the Princess sitting at the round stable table, drinking out of a mug and speaking gently with an older man.

Link takes a breath of relief, and approaches the two.

“Good Morning.” She smiles up at him. Her voice sounded much better, and her eyes finally had life back into them, but she still wasn’t herself. Her skin still looked sickly, her face hollowed out and eyes droopy. Any progress is good progress, Link decides then and there.

“I… didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Link sighs. “I’m so sorry. When did you wake up?”

“Oh not long ago, maybe twenty minutes? I didn’t want to disturb you-”

“You should have.” He interrupts her and her words get swallowed out of surprise. Link realizes that he snapped at her a little, and immediately becomes apologetic. “I’m sorry, again. I just…”

“You’re worried about me. I understand.” She takes his hand, her bones frail. In many ways, she physically looked worse today than last night. But at least she could hold a conversation. He nods. Zelda notices the tension, and changes the subject, “This kind gentleman was telling me about when you saved the stable from a horde of lizalfos about a year ago.”

Link looks over at the man, Giahzo. “Oh that was nothing, it was just two green lizalfos and a blue one who wandered too close to the stable.” Link hums. Their hands were still held together by Zelda.

“Don’t be so modest!” The old man chuckled, “Without you, it would have been a disaster! The number of monsters means nothing, especially when you don’t know how to fight!”

“That’s very kind of you.” Link smiles and then realizes he and Zeldas hands, he’s the one to pull it away. “What are you drinking?”

“I’m not sure…” Zelda begins and Link immediately snatches the mug from her hand. “Hey!”

“You can’t just drink something mysterious.” Link scolds.

“Oh it’s just a bit of Hateno Milk.” The man assures. Link looks at him, then Zelda, and then into the mug to see the creamy liquid. He brings it to his nose and smells it, and then takes a sip of it. Sure enough, it was just milk.

“I’m sorry, Giahzo.” He apologizes and places the mug back down. “I’m just on high alert.”

“Do not apologize to me, apologize to this lovely young lady you’ve graced us with.” The elderly man smiles with a chuckle, his eyes wrinkling up with his age. Zelda smiles, blushing a little, “Tell me, dear, where are you from? We don’t get many new faces at this stable these days.”

Zelda looks at him, her eyes sad. A hundred years ago every person in Hyrule knew her face. She looks at Link, unsure how to answer.

“She’s from the Outskirts stable.” Link covers for her. “Her family used to reside in Central Hyrule before the Calamity.”

“Yes.” Zelda immediately chirps, “We’re headed to Hateno for…”

“A honeymoon!?” Giahzo smiles brightly. Both Link and Zelda freeze in their tracks, and Link hopes he doesn’t look as embarrassed as he feels. “Hateno is a great Honeymoon destination! Although I’ve heard Lureline is even more splendid!” He clasps his hands together.

“Research.” Zelda clarifies, “so sorry to disappoint.” She chuckles politely, making a conscious effort not to look at Link. “I’m researching… population dynamics in Hyrule.” She makes something up that sounds completely believable.

“Of course.” Link then says, “I’m just escorting her there, we are total strangers.”

That breaks Zelda’s heart.

She knows he’s just trying to be extra careful, pushing her anonymity as much as possible. And in a way, it wasn’t a total lie. But it cut her like a knife.

“I see…” Giahzo doesn’t seem convinced. “Well, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by. Hopefully the monsters will start to die down.” He smiles and stands up, moving outside.

Zelda is still afraid to look at Link, and he’s a little bit shaken up by the entire interaction. He knows the Yiga are still out there, he knows that there are people who will try to take advantage of her for power or money. He has no reason to suspect anything from the old man, but he can’t help himself from being deliberate. He senses her tension and walks back to the bed to gather their things.

“You should have woken me up.” Link says as he picks up a satchel full of food and readjusts his gloves.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was timid and tired. He turns around to see her, her green eyes looking up at him apologetically. “I didn’t know it would worry you so.” He approaches her.

“Of course it worries me.” He sighs. “I spent three years trying to get you out of that castle, I’m not gonna lose you on the first night.” He holds his hand out for her to trade, helping her up. She must not have rested as well as he thought, because as soon as she gets on her feet, she almost topples right over him. He catches her, holding her up before she collapses. “Woah there.” He mutters. “You alright?”

She nods, “Let’s just get to that house you told me about.”

—

chapter two

750 notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2564

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sorry that this one feels like a bit of a filler - but I’m seriously hoping to get some spicy content out in the next chapter so pls pls stay tuned! Also this is only proof read by myself so pls let me know of any errors!

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 4

We spent a few hours researching and looking into the First Blades whereabouts after dinner, Dean and I only making work-related conversations after the pie ordeal. Every now and then when I looked up from the book I was reading I’d catch him looking in my direction, but I was far too tired for any more confrontation - I knew he'd act like an ass if I said anything. I decided to head to bed at around midnight, unable to read more than a few words and actually process said words in my brain. As Sam was still asleep, Dean showed me to my room which was tragically opposite his, and I could only imagine the noises that I’d be hearing coming through that door. Getting ready for bed, I dug out an old boyfriends T-shirt that I was still in possession of and threw it on, making sure to remove all other items of clothing except my panties. I climbed into bed - which was surprisingly more comfortable than I’d anticipated, though the sheets smelt a little musty - and set an alarm on my phone so I could hopefully rise before the boys in the morning. The moment my head hit the pillow, sleep whisked me away, not giving me a chance to think about the wild day I’d had and the total jackass that I’d met.

My alarm rang at 5am and I crawled out of bed, dressing in yesterday’s jeans with a clean, low-cut tank top and an open flannel thrown over the top. Pulling on my boots, I ran my fingers through my hair before heading to the en suite bathroom to brush my teeth. As I turned on the tap, the pipes clanged alarmingly as a small stream of water trickled from the faucet, the harsh noise echoing around the small tiled room. “That’s not concerning at all,” I mumbled to myself, the noise finally stopping as I turned the tap off. After I’d finished brushing I headed back into the bedroom to grab my phone before leaving the room to walk wearily to the kitchen. Upon arrival, I instantly made a pot of coffee, the smell alone already helping to blow away the sleepy cobwebs in my mind. I needed food. Something good, like pancakes. So I rummaged around until I found everything I needed, starting to memorise where the brothers kept everything after spending so much time in here yesterday evening. As I whipped up the batter, I threw some bacon in a pan and placed three plates on the table, along with some mugs, the pot of coffee and a big bottle of maple syrup. As soon as I started cooking the batter, it was like I’d used a summoning spell.

“You know when I first woke up I thought that I’d dreamt you up in some sort of weirdly tame nightmare” Dean said in a deep and raspy, fresh-from-sleep tone as he paced into the room and sat at the table, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that your way of saying that I’m your dream girl, Winchester?” I teased as I poured him a mug of coffee. He smirked, not looking up at me.

“You wish darlin’.”

“I really don’t,” I turned back to the stove and flipped the pancake, taking a sip from my own mug.

I’d made a stack of maybe twelve pancakes by the time Sam arrived, greeting me with that warm smile of his as he took a seat opposite Dean.

“Good morning (Y/n), something smells amazing.”

“Good morning Sam,” I smiled back at him before I looked over at Dean, “That’s how you greet someone in the morning Dean, not by telling them they were part of your living nightmare.” Dean shrugged, taking a long drink from his coffee.

Sam gave me an almost apologetic look on his brothers behalf, saying quietly, “as charming as ever then, Dean.” As he sat down I placed the stack of pancakes along with the bacon on the table and both men’s eyes lit up, immediately picking up their cutlery.

“Help yourselves,” I said, taking a seat between them, “just leave a couple for me at least.”

Dean was the first to pile about five onto his plate along with a good portion of the bacon. Without even looking at me he placed two pancakes on my own plate as he reached for the maple syrup. Before I could ask for the bacon, it was Sam who served some up for me before giving himself whatever was left over before handing me the syrup.

“Oh, thanks guys…” I said, a little shocked at how weirdly coordinated they were with that whole task.

“You’re welcome,” they both managed to mumble out through huge mouthfuls of food. We sat in a strangely nice silence for a few minutes, the only noise to be heard was the sounds of breakfast being totally annihilated. Dean was the first to throw his cutlery down with a very satisfied groan. He stretched, his T-shirt rising slightly to show his incredibly toned abdomen.

For fucks sake.

“THAT is what powers a man up in the morning,” he said, his fingers interlaced behind his head.

“Mmm hmm,” was all I managed to get out, finding it annoyingly difficult to look away, let alone to stop my eyes from trailing to where his leather belt hugged his hips and his old denim jeans gripped the thick muscles of his thighs. A few seconds must’ve passed when he cleared his throat and my eyes snapped up to be immediately caught in that moss-green gaze. Shit. I thought maybe for a second that he didn’t notice me looking. But then the corner of his mouth twitched up into that infuriating smirk. Luckily for me, he didn’t say anything, but I watched as he dragged his gaze over my figure, similar to how I did with him. It was Sam who spoke up next and I tore my eyes away, letting out a breath as he saved me from Deans silent interrogation.

“So I read last night about a possible case,” he started to say as he finished chewing the last bit of food on his plate before pushing it away and turning towards us.

“Go on,” Dean said, leaning forwards - finally covering his exposed stomach.

“I think it’s a haunting - some sort of item possession involving a ghost. All of the accidents that have been happening seem to occur either around or directly within an old antique store that’s connected to an old auction house. I think it’s worth a look,” Sam opened his laptop that he’d placed on the seat next to him, showing us all of the research he’d done overnight. Looking at the evidence he’d piled together, I think he was on to something. I nodded.

“Sure, I’m in. I’ll go pack a bag,” I said, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Hang on a second,” Dean spoke up and I immediately knew he was talking to me.

“What?”

“What makes you think you’re coming with us for this?” His brows furrowed slightly.

“Because I never get to work out in the field - Bobby always had me on book duty and I want to see some real hunting in action,” I raised my voice a little starting to get defensive.

“If Bobby never let you do field work then neither are we. You’re staying here,” his tone was stern as he downed the last of the coffee and stood up, towering over me.

“What?!” I almost shouted.

“Dean, I don’t think it’s your place to say what she can and can’t do. I say we let her come along,” Sam intervened, his voice always full of reason and reassurance. I gave him a half smile - a small, ‘thank you for sticking up for me’.

“No way. There’s no way I’m letting Bobby’s girl put herself in danger. The old bastard would find a way to make us pay if anything were to happen to her; even from beyond the grave.”

“I don’t need you taking on his role, Dean. Bobby kept me safe my whole life, just him. I’m sure the pair of you could look out for me no problem on a little ghost trip,” I chided, coming up with a plan to get Dean to agree to me coming.

“(Y/n)s right, this shouldn’t be a hard case for us - if anything this is a small break from the real hard work,” Sam stepped towards Dean, trying to reassure him.

Dean looked from Sam to myself, and when our eyes locked I let a sly smile crawl onto my lips.

“Or maybe Dean Winchester isn’t up to the challenge?” I said, holding my hands up. He frowned, opening his mouth but I spoke again before he could get his words out. “Maybe….,” I stepped towards him, now only a few inches between us, “Dean Winchester is losing his touch, and isn’t the big strong man he used to be and really won’t be able to keep me safe…?” I flashed Dean my best doe eyes and I heard him suck in a breath as I reached forwards and tugged slightly on his T-shirt, making him look down at me with his eyes flicking between mine - dilating a little. I couldn’t help but bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes and pressing my fingertips to his chest, feeling his heart rate increase with every beat from my touch. I liked to think that I was being very ‘persuasive’.

“I think you’re right (Y/n), I don’t think Dean is up to the task. He’s definitely been losing his touch,” Sam spoke up, catching on with my game and joining in with the verbal attack on his older brother. Deans eyes snapped up to look at Sam and the almost trance-like state he was in before was shattered.

“I have NOT lost my touch!” He snapped. Sam and I looked at each other and exploded into laughing very fake laughs, clapping and wiping away a pretend tear.

“Sure thing ‘sweetheart’,” I said, “prove it - keep me safe.”

“Oh I’ll keep you safe,” Dean took the bait and barged past us, “I’ll keep you safe from your own fucking shadow.”

After a few hours of packing and travelling, we arrived in a very well manicured town - even the motel was decent. Upon checking in, we got two rooms; one for me and one for the boys.

“Let’s drop our stuff off, freshen up and meet back here in ten?” Sam said, checking his watch. It was just past 11am.

“Sure, sounds good,” I replied, and Dean just nodded in approval. Their room was further down the corridor than mine, so I watched them leave before entering my room. It was the usual layout: one double bed, cheap linens, an old TV and an under-stocked minibar. At least the decor wasn't completely brown. I dumped my bags on the floor and started to unpack some essentials. I laid my clothes out on the bed - some of these outfits may come in handy later on. For now though, I’ll just stick to what I was already wearing. Lastly I grabbed a tin that was down in the bottom of my duffle - inside was a bunch of fake IDs that Bobby insisted on making me a few years ago. I smiled, remembering him always answering the phone to the Winchesters, pretending to be their FBI boss. I was always dying to know what they were hunting when he got those phone calls. I admired them a lot back then. I shook away the memory and pocketed the IDs, marching to the bathroom and splashing some water on my face before leaving, locking the door behind me.

The boys were already waiting for me.

“You boys ready?” I asked, to which they both nodded. “Where to first?” my question was aimed at Sam, but Dean replied.

“The old antique store just down here on the corner,” he grumbled as we started walking, still unimpressed that I was tagging along. I shot him a look as he practically glared at me from the other side of Sam.

“Get over yourself Dean. I’m along for the ride so deal with it,” I snapped at him, hoping he un-rustles his jimmies quickly. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down, not when I’m excited to actually be on a case. My first ‘out in the field’ case of all things. I wanted this to be a good memory. He scrunched his face up at my words, mouthing an angry ‘I hate you’ at me, to which I flipped him off.

“Guys just behave yourselves!” Sam stopped in his tracks right as we were outside our destination. “We are professionals so we need to act like it. We’re here to do our job,” Sam said in an authoritative voice - which undeniably sounded very attractive on him. I walked a few steps ahead of them and stopped with my hand on the front door to the store.

“Sam’s right. I’m happy to be here helping these people,” I smiled a little too sweetly before throwing a dark look at Dean, “so pull your shit together Dean, you’re making us look bad.” I heard him start to protest before I pushed the door open and walked into the shop, hearing the two brothers scurrying to catch up with me. As we walked in we were greeted by an older gentleman, with a kind face, a neatly trimmed pure white beard and round specs.

“Good morning and welcome to the store,” he said, his voice soft, “Can I help you?” He looked between the three of us. The boys reached for the fake badges, but they were lost for words when I beat them to the chase - obviously being unaware that I’d come prepared. Holding my badge up for the older gent to see, I spoke without missing a beat.

“Hi! Yes you certainly can help me - I’m agent Granger and these,” I jabbed my thumb to Sam and Dean who were standing right behind me, “are agents Crabbe and Goyle. We’ve got some questions for you regarding the strange occurrences going on around here recently.”

“Of course, it’s about time these things were investigated,” the older man turned and beckoned for us to follow, which Sam did immediately. Dean and I were left behind, staring each other down. I could tell he wasn’t happy that I had a badge, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. He scowled.

“This isn’t a fucking game.”

“You’re just mad that I got one up on you so early on,” I grinned up at him, his frown not budging.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he huffed.

“I’m safe from doing you then aren’t I?” I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my lips.

“What?” He looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head, obviously not catching on. I chuckled a little, walking past him to catch up with Sam, leaving him standing there confused.

“Don’t think too hard about it Dean, you might hurt yourself,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Fuck y- hang on- oh you BITCH!” He shouted after me as he caught on finally. I laughed, not looking back.

“Only to you Dean.”

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Up Next:

Chapter 5

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn #reader insert

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woniefull · 2 months

Text

we can't be friends

hi guys!! this is my very first piece of writing! constructive criticism is always welcomed. please don't mind any grammatical/spelling errors. i wrote this at 2 in the morning and just wanted to do something fun. i still have a lot of room for improvement but i hope you guys enjoy!

warning: little angsty

song: we can't be friends (wait for your love) - ariana grande

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he was the sweetest boy to you when you had first met. his puppy eyes, gorgeous smile, and brown fluffy hair were what drew you in. his flirty words towards you, and only you, had you captivated in a heartbeat.

that’s why you couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of you right now.

“oh god please don’t start.” jake groaned as you stared at him with angry eyes. or was it hurt? he couldn’t tell.

“i’m not starting anything! if anything you are! why are you still talking to your ex after the countless times she’s crossed the boundaries in our relationship? i’ve told you how i feel about her!" your voice croaked and you felt helpless.

you had always tried your best to not be that jealous girlfriend everyone hates. but how could you? jake was attractive and every girl tried to get at him. it didn’t help that he was oblivious to the advances the women around him would give. that’s why you would get angry, but never at him.

“how many times do i have to tell you that she came up to me? i was just being polite by having a conversation with her”.

jake was sitting on the couch now. his hands covering his face, unaware of the tears forming in your eyes.

it always came down to this. you voicing your problem with jake entertaining other girls and him trying to reassure you.

trying.

you both were growing tired of the constant arguing.

“jake she was pushing herself all up on you and you just stood there! can you imagine how that made me feel? watching my boyfriend have another girl's hands all over him as if she were the girlfriend?” you were hurt. it hurt. all of this hurt. you knew this wasn’t your boyfriend’s fault. he had always been a gentleman, one of the many qualities you loved about him. but his next words made you second-guess yourself.

“that’s just her character, doll. she’s always been like that from the moment i met her. this jealousy thing of yours really needs to stop, it’s not cute anymore”. jake almost immediately regretted his words as he saw your reaction. he knew he was wrong.

“you think i do this to be cute? am i joke to you?” you cried out.

you don’t remember when everything went wrong. you don’t remember the last time you felt secure in your relationship. maybe you weren’t ready for all of this.

“no, love i’m sorry i didn’t mean that” jake said as he quickly got up and made his way towards you.

“i’m so sorry, i just had a difficult day that’s all”. he slipped his arm around your waist and used the other to wipe your tears away.

“jake”

he looked at your eyes.

“whatever you’re about to say please don’t” jake pleaded.

“jake i just think we aren’t ready for this. for us”. you started to sob again.

“i think we need to let each other go. we need to grow and learn to understand ourselves before we can understand each other".

“please” jake said as he dipped his head into your neck.

you let him stay there for a while before you detached yourself from him. it was hard to because jake wouldn’t let go. he knew it would be a while before he held you again.

“i’m sorry jake, i really am” you said with a small smile, trying your best not to completely break down again.

“no i’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

“we both had fault in this jake, don’t blame yourself.”

you both stood there for a moment, observing each other. it was as if you guys were taking in your last moments together.

“i’m leaving now jake”. you wasted no time in collecting your things in order to head to the front door.

“thank you for everything, really. i know things didn’t end how we wanted them to but some of my best memories were with you. thank you jake”.

jake just stood there, still in disbelief at how quickly things had unraveled.

right as you were about to walk out he calls to you.

“can we still be friends?” a little hope is visible in his eyes. he hopes that you say yes so that he’s able to see you again.

“we can’t be friends”. and just like that you were gone. the only evidence of you ever being there was jake’s broken heart.

i’ll wait for your love jake thinks as he slowly walks over to the sofa and slumps down.

#fanfic #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #jake enhypen #jakefic #sim jaeyun #enha #enha fluff #enha angst #enhypen angst #enhypen jake #heeseung #jay #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni ki

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llvixpixiez · 11 months

Text

warnings: NSFW content, fingering, eating out, everything like that.

(also sorry if this isn’t very good it’s my first time ever making anything // also i’m so so sorry if i make any spelling errors 😔‼️)

you had just been awaken to the sound of rain heavily tapping against your window along with thunder and lighting in the distance. “wow” you say to yourself “it was just sunny yesterday, must be climate change.” you begin to get up until suddenly you feel a arm lazily wrap around you and pull you back into bed. “where are you going?” said tom “wherever i want” you said with a smirk on your face. “very funny” tom said sarcastically “but can’t you just stay here with me for the day?” said tom. you had some things to do that day but you figured they could wait. “fine, i can. but just this once!” you said with a sigh, laying back down. “yay!” said tom. you and tom then look at each other saying nothing. “i’m so lucky to have you in my life y/n.” tom said while looking deep into your eyes, mesmerized by your beauty. “i love you so much tom” “i love you more” he says slowly lowering his hand down your body, reaching the top of your shorts. you smile and give him a slight kiss which ended up turning into a make out sesh. tom then reaches his smooth hand down your shorts, slightly shocked to feel no underwear. he begins to run his fingers up and down your folds then sticks one finger in and begins running it back and fourth getting faster and harder by the second. he then adds another finger and repeats the same thing making you start to twitch “you like that do you?” says tom “y-yes” you say feeling yourself about to cum. he then kisses your neck and gives you hickeys. “how do you m-make me f-feel so good” you say twitching rapidly. “secret talent i guess” he says giving you a smirk. you then cum all over his fingers and he takes them out, putting them in his mouth then into yours. he loved the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his fingers as you suck his saliva and your fluids off of him. he then removes his clothing throwing it onto your floor and helps you do the same. you couldn’t see where the clothes went since the room was pitch black where you threw them. he then puts his dick inside you doing the cream pie position. you both start to moan as he speeds up his pace spitting onto your clit then proceeded to use his thumb to circle it. he then puts one of you legs over his shoulder, which makes him hit that spot making your back arch and you let out a loud moan. “i’m gonna cum” tom says whimpering “cum inside me” you say desperately. you both cum then he immediately pulls out and begins to eat you out. being overstimulated, you begin to uncontrollably moan while twitching, pulling at toms braids. “t-tom this is to m-much!!” you say pleading for him to stop. he doesn’t, he then sticks a finger inside you with his tongue and you become weak. he then stops and says “are you okay? you seem so weak.” “i’m okay, just tired.” tom then picks you up and takes you to the bathroom conjoined to your bedroom. he then turns on the shower and brings you in there. you sit down on the big shower floor and just think while the water runs down your face. “here, i’ll help you” he then washes your body for you. your legs were trembling. after he was done cleaning both you and himself, he picks you up and sets you on the counter, handing you a towel. he helps you get new clean clothes on and you snuggle into bed. he then puts on his shoes. “i’ll be right back” he says grabbing his keys and a coat. he walks over to you and gives you a hug and a kiss. he walks out of the room and about 10 minutes later he comes back with a bag full of drinks and snacks, movies, ect. he then snuggles up against you and then hands you the remote to turn on a movie. you then turn on the titanic. you lay your head down on toms shoulder, then he lays his head against yours. eventually, you falls asleep. he notices and plays with your hair and gently runs his fingers across your face. he then kisses your head, then falls asleep.

#tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut

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ksnfangz · 9 months

Text

COOL WITH YOU ★ SIDE A !

★ ₊˚ paring: Cupid!Ni-ki x Human!Reader

�� ₊˚ Genre: Fluff , angst(?) , unrequited love

★ ₊˚ Warnings : None?

★ ₊˚ word count: 1.2k

★ ₊˚ A/n : my brain turned off for like a month but i randomly decided to write this! hope it isn’t to shitty lol. Enjoy <3 ( yes there will be a part two aka side B !! sorry for any spelling / grammar errors.

Couples. Ni-ki hates couples, which is pretty ironic since he’s the reason half of them currently exist. Thought it was not like he had a choice seeing as he was born as an angel a cupid at that.

At first, it was fun being able to make two people fall in love and watch how some relationships blossomed while others fell apart, but over time it grew repetitive The constant matchmaking and shadowing had taken a toll on the boy.

When he first told his mother how he felt she just brushed it off as the boy not liking the idea of love… which wasn’t surprisingly not that rare writhing cupids but what she got wrong was that Ni-ki does want love.

He’s just tired of helping everyone else with their love lives when he can’t even help himself. As he continued to trail behind his new match he couldn’t help but wonder when would cupid shoot him with an arrow if that were even possible.

“ Don’t you ever get bored?” Ni-ki questions looking away from the couple-filled streets “What do you mean?.” Jungwon asks looking over at the boy.

“ Of watching people fall in love, of being invisible, stuck in the shadows.” the younger explains, jungwon simply shakes his head.

“ Not I think it’s quite amazing actually…” Jungwon replies smiling as a couple walks past holding hands. Ni-ki scoffs. “You don’t get it.”

“ It’s okay to not like your job Ni-ki Lots of cupids hate their job.” Jungwon says

“But this is a job that I can’t quit I’m stuck doing this until… I don’t even know when.” Ni-ki whines slamming his head down onto the table. Jungwon softly patted the boy's head.

“ I mean you can quit…” a new voice spoke causing Ni-ki to sit back up. It was Jay another angel.

“But there’s consequences, have you heard about Heeseung?” Jay asks, Ni-ki shaking his head.

“Who is that?”

“ he was my friend, and once a cupid like us… a few years ago he gave up his wings to become human, all for some mortal he’d fallen in love with.”

“But isn’t falling in love with a mortal forbidden?” Jungwon says confusedly. There were a lot of things angels couldn’t do.

“Yes, which is why he’s no longer here It’s been said that he is still human… but his lover was taken away,” Jay replies causing the younger's eyes to widen. “They killed the mortal?” Ni-ki asks loudly.

“No of course not they just wiped heeseung from their memory, I heard they ended up falling for someone else.” Jay states the two boys letting out sighs. “ Heesueng tried to come back and beg for forgiveness but a fallen angel never regrows their wings.”

“So what was the point in telling me all that?” Ni-ki questions. “To show its better to be an angel and live in the shadows than be a mortal and have everything about your life out in the open.”

“But what if I’m tired of the shadows?”

“That's on you Ni-ki, since only you can stop yourself from stepping into the light.”

Walking along the busy streets Ni-ki mindlessly trailed behind the latest couple, who were making their way to an art museum.

Normally when Ni-ki grew tired of one couple he’d leave and find a new one but despite his boredom, he knew these two were a good match and wanted to make sure they’d succeed.

Their names were Eunjin and Daesoo and they’d been friends for years now silently crushing on one another. Well, that was until Ni-ki stepped and in used his magical powers to get the two idiots to confess. Now his job was to protect their relationship until it was stable enough for them to handle on their own.

Upon entering the art museum Ni-ki watched as the couple showed their tickets and joined the crowd of people waiting for their tour guide.

The crowd seemed like your average group of people couples here and there, a few college students and critics. However, one person stood out quite a bit. Or at least in Niki’s eyes, though he couldn’t see his face the girl seemed much brighter than everything surrounding her.

While everyone else seemed to wear more Dark attire the girl wore a bright blue cardigan hanging loosely on her shoulders, paired with a white skirt matching the headband on her head.

Ni-ki watched as she stared up at the painting as if she were in a trance her curious eyes shining under the museum lights.

Neither of them realized that the crowd had now moved on to the next piece. Ni-ki also eventually found himself staring at a piece of art but it wasn’t the painting on the wall.

“ Y/n.” called out a voice pulling the girl— y/n out of her trance.

“Come on before you get left behind.”

“Okay coming! Heeseung.” she replied voice bright and cheerful as she skipped off toward her … friend?

wait Heeseung? Lee Heeseung, the fallen angel.

Watching as the two walked off and joined their group, Ni-ki averted his eyes from the painting that the girl had been captivated by moments ago.

He could see why she stared for so long. Psyche and Cupid.

But Psyche can’t see Cupid.

So what’s the point?

It was now a few days later and it was safe to say he still didn’t get the point, even after days of following the pretty human around, The boy could probably tell you every detail of her face from how long he’d stared hoping she’d eventually look back at him. Though it never happens he still hopes.

Sometimes he finds himself thinking of what Jay said. “Only you can stop yourself from stepping into the light.” he repeats to himself as he watches the girl read next to her window, The soft taps of rain hitting the glass echoed over the soft sniffles coming from the girl.

“ If I give up my wings will you finally see me?” Ni-ki asks and of course, receives no answer. He sighs having an internal battle with himself.

“ I don’t wanna give up my wings if it means I can't have you.”

He thinks back to Jay's story about Heeseung, how his lover was taken away from him when he left. Was Ni-ki willing to risk it? Was he ready to risk losing something he didn’t even get the chance to have?

As he watched the girl climb into her bed and fall into a peaceful slumber looking effortlessly beautiful despite the dried tears on her cheeks, he realized he’d do anything to make sure he’d be there to wipe away her tears. Whether she loved him or not.

“ Jay! You idiot I told you not to tell them the story about heeseung!” Jake shouts shoving Jay's chest. Jay stumbled back confusedly shocked by Jake's aggressiveness.

“ What are you talking about? What’s going on?” Jay asks. “ The story about turning human to peruse love” Jake reminds. “ You told Ni-ki and jungwon about it right?” Jay nods

“ Well Jungwon found a letter from Ni-ki this morning and it says that he’s going to give up his wings for some girl from a museum,” Jake explains, all the color drains from Jay's face.

“ As long as the higher power doesn’t know why Ni-ki is giving them up he should be fine.” Jay states.

“ Yeah but what if they find out?”

“ Another cupid will be sent down to make her fall for someone else.”

“ and what about Ni-ki?”

“ he stays human but will not be able to have a lover unless a cupid uses their powers to form a connection”

“ Shit…”

as always likes and reblogs are appreciated but not required thank you for reading ily <33

label tags 🏷️ : @k-films @k-labels

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hearts4court · 10 months

Note

hi courtney ml, i’ve got a little marauders request for youuu, specifically remus x fem!reader

remus overhearing you, his girlfriend and sirius have a non-serious argument

”i’m going to fucking strangle you!” he yells, and remus’ head perks up from around the corner. ”what if i was into that?” the words come out too quick and remus is taken aback.

and then he gets flashbacks to the last time he choked you during sex oml 😇😇😇

I call remus #girl dinner 🍽️!!💋 i interrupted you saying that, as reader saying it to Sirius so lemme know if you want me to change it ml ^^

pairings: Remus J. Lupin x Fem!reader

warnings: choking, swearing, short story, mentions of death(strangulation), spelling errors, use of Y/N, 2nd POV.

lemme know if i miss anything!^^

Main Masterlist | The Marauders Masterlist

Sirius had been messing with you all damn day, he only did it because he liked to tease Remus about how you always ran to him when Sirius or James(or anyone in general)bullied you, but today you weren’t having it.

Remus was reading a book in the common room when he heard distant yelling approaching it, he knew that you and Sirius were probably arguing of something stupid, but decided not to say anything because he really didn’t care.

“Godric, Y/N! you’re so annoying!i’m going to fucking strangle you!” Sirius yelled at you as you two entered the common room, Remus’s popped his head up from his book and was going to say something before you interrupted him and spoke against Sirius.

“What if i was into that?” you said to Sirius crossing your arms, making him blush and groan.”Moony! get your girlfriend!” he yelled at the tall male who was blushing heavily on the couch in front of the fire place, his book in his lap while he covered his mouth with one hand.

“Remmy?” you call out in confusion, tilting your head slightly at his silence.

~~~~~~

Remus’s roommates were out at the quidditch game for the next hour so he had you all to himself.

“F-fuck, Remmy!” you moan as he thrusted into you, one of your hands gripping the bedsheets the other was on his back scratching at it and leaving claw marks.

“S’much! c-can’t take it!”you gasp, your moans and gasps were almost pornographic. “shh..s’okay dove, you can take it. Just one more f’me, okay? be a good girl for me..”he cooed pressing a soft kiss to your head as he thrusted into you softly but fast, smiling as you gave him a soft nod followed by a moan.

Remus wanted to try something, he wrapped his hand around your neck as he fucked you. Your back slightly arching off the bed and the hand on his back digging into his skin was now holding onto the wrist of the hand on your neck.

Remmy!

“Remus!” you said snapping your fingers in front of his face to snap him out of his trance.

“Wha-what? Sorry Dove— i wasn’t listening.”He admitted shyly looking at Sirius then to you who was by his side holding his arm in worry.

“i asked if you were okay. You seemed like you were lost for a moment.” you say rubbing his temple, making him smile.”M’fine love. just got distracted.” He said clearing his throat.

“i notice..”you trail off, your eyes wander down to his bulge in his pants that is slightly being covered by his book(only covered from Sirius).

“Need help, love?” you whispered as you tease him, licking your lips slightly making him blush once more before nodding slightly.

“Well, i’m tired. Remmy’s gonna walk me to my dorm, I’ll see you tomorrow, Sirius. Sorry about our argument today.” you say helping Remus stand up covering him slightly to hide his bulge.

“Yeah, me too, Y/N. Goodnight Y/N, night moons.” The dark haired Gryffindor said before headed up to his dorm. Once Sirius was out of sight, you turn to Remus.

“Come on, rem. My poor baby needs help.”you tease him as you lead him to the stairs of the girls dormitory, walking up to your (suspiciously and totally not planned) empty dorm.

don’t copy, translate, or repost any of my work w/o my permission!

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #the marauders era #the marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black smut #regulus black x reader #poly!marauders smut

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luvneymar · 1 year

Text

(2/2) FOREVER AND ALWAYS — NEYMAR JR

SUMMARY: You and your best friend have been in-love with each other since forever, one day you both get drunk and you end up pregnant

PARING: teen!neymar x teen!reader

NOTE: I changed the ages so Davi could be younger & this was posted pretty late so if there’s any spelling errors or anything pls lemme know! 🫶

“You’re almost there baby-girl! Keep pushing.” Your mother sent words of encouragement as you squeezed the life out of her’s & Neymar’s hands, you were pushing out a baby with a head the size of the moon.

“I can’t! He can just stay in my uterus! It’s safer & it’s better for everyone!” You shook your head side to side curling your toes as you were in so much pain & discomfort you were sure you’d explode.

“Also I’m pretty sure I pooped on the midwife’s hand, so sorry.” You shouted out really fast before returning to screaming in pain & squeezing your boyfriend’s hand as hard as you could.

“It’s okay baby, you can do this. I believe in you!” Neymar sent encouraging words your way which just annoyed him, you didn’t have a huge head when you were a baby so this definitely had to be the genetics of none other than Neymar.

“You shut up! Just shut up! Who asked you to develop such a huge head? Now my vagina is going to rip into one huge whole because of you!” As you cursed him out you hadn’t even notice you had been slightly pushing the whole time which finally remove your large headed baby from your vagina.

You suddenly didn’t feel as much pain as you felt a few seconds ago which confused you until you felt pressure on your chest as you heard a crying baby lay on your chest. “Baby you did it.” Neymar whispered as he wiped the excess sweat off your forehead as you cradled your crying son.

“He’s so beautiful.” You cried out as you took in the fact that not only you survived the attack on your vagina but you were now a mother; to a huge headed baby. Neymar kissed you on the cheek as you both obsessed over your newborn son. “Alright mama, we’ve gotta clean him up. You did great.”

As your OB took your son out of the room to do whatever medical stuff they needed to do for him Neymar wrapped his hands around you pulling you in for a hug as you cried taking in what just happened.

—

That was 4 years ago, within those 4 years you became a well respected actress while Neymar continued to chase after his football career & had become a hotshot football player. You both had your ups & downs but you both had made it work.

You had just finished shooting the film “Avengers; Infinity War” & were preparing to attend the premiere, or at-least trying too. Davi kept throwing a tantrum about how he didn’t want to wear this, he was hungry, he was tired all the typical 4 year old problems.

Fortunately the help of your husband who your son practically worshipped you all managed to get dressed without too much of a hitch. “Davi baby are you ready to go?”

“Yes!” Your son smiled up at you as he offered you a soggy warm cracker he had been holding in his palm for the past few minutes. You took the cracker & tucked it into your purse before picking up your son. “Let’s go baby, your daddy is waiting in the car.”

Once you both arrived to where the car was parked & settled in the driver at the front had begun to drive you leaned into your husband giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Don’t thank me baby, I always want to celebrate your success.” Neymar replied as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you in as he kissed your forehead, you smiled at his action as you leaned into his chest.

You closed your eyes as you listening to his heartbeat not aware that you fallen asleep in that exact position until your soon who was sitting beside you had nudged you in your side. “Mommy we’re here.” He whispered in your ear .

“Thank you for waking me up baby.” As you got up you wiped the crumbs that were decorated all across your sons face as well as checking your face for any smudges or marks. “Ney baby we’re ready.”

“Alright.” He answered as he opened the door revealing multiple cameras flashes & screaming people, you picked up your son from his armpit and mad your way out of the car shielding his eyes from the blinding lights.

As you all made your way down the red carpet and onto the photo booth area you were met with multiple reporters waiting to interview different actors & actresses about any topic they could conjure up.

As Neymar was pulled away by other reporters you made your way to the entrance of the building barely making it before being pulled away by a reporter with exceptionally bright teeth. “Hi there (Name)! I can see here you brought your son to the premiere!”

“Yes I did. He’s super excited to be here. He wants to meet Thor.” You answered smiling at your son who was completely oblivious to what was going on as he stared into the camera that was recording his mother.

“Thor?” The moment you mentioned Thor he begun to look around trying to find his favourite superhero thinking he was around him.

“Yes Thor honey.” You smiled at him pulling at his soft cheek as he continued to snack on his crackers getting crumbs on your dress, not that you minded of course.

“Such a cute child, (Name) you played the role of the Scarlet Witch correct?” The reporter smiled at Davi before turning to face you something weird hiding behind her smile.

“Yes I did. Is there a question in there?” You asked not paying any attention to the reporter as you son begun to fuss feeling overwhelmed by all the noises. “Yes, how did the casting for the role go?”

“Actually I didn’t go through a casting process, I was personally asked to play the role.” You answered turning to smile at the reporter quickly before turning back to your son feeding him more snacks to keep him calm.

“Really? So in your opinion—” Just as the reporter was going to say something Neymar had come out of nowhere interrupting them.

“My love, there you are.” Neymar kissed yours & Davi’s cheek as he wrapped his hand around your waist other hand used to wipe crumbs from his sons face.

“Neymar! Would you like to—!” The reporters face perks up seeing Neymar enter your interview. “I am so sorry but we have to get going, the premier is about to start & my son is getting cranky.”

“But I still—”

“Thank you so much for your time.” You thanked the reporter before walking away silently thanking God for Neymar’s timing, it wasn’t a secret that multiple people assumed you only had your success because your husband was a famous footballer.

You never felt the need to correct them simply because you have proven yourself side the beginning of your career & you still continue to by snagging large roles in movies like these ones.

“Thank you I knew she was going to ask the most foolish question on earth.” You kissed your husband on his cheek as you let your son down letting him walk his own. Neymar laughed at your statement before shuffling his son towards his seat in the dark building.

As you all say in your seats waiting for the movie to begin your co-worker; Christ Hemsworth shuffled past you trying to get to his seat which was right beside you. “Hey Chris!” You whisper shouted using Davi’s hand to wave.

“(Name)! Hey! You brought your family!” He whispered back as he exchanged in a manly fist bump with Neymar who sat right beside you, as you both exchanged pleasantries you were interrupted by your son who sat in your lap staring at your co-worker in awe.

“Are you Thor? The superhero?” He asked staring up at him with his big brown eyes as he gripped Chris’s suit jacket getting some crumbs on it. “Why yes I am little man!”

“Really?” Davi squealed out smiling brightly excited to meet his favourite superhero, you laughed at his reaction knowing all the times you had to rematch marvel movies because he wanted to see Thor.

“Really!” Chris replied, as soon as he did Davi begun to fuss trying to leave your lap wanting to spend time with his favourite superhero instead, you complied knowing it would allow you to spend more time with your husband who was snacking on his peanuts.

“Are you okay with this?” You asked him not sure if he felt used or as if you were dumping your child into him for a free night out. “Are you kidding? Me & him are gonna have a blast. Don’t worry about him.”

“Thanks Chris, I owe you one.” Hearing that reassured you as you heard your sons voice fade into the background you turned to your husband. “As for you mister.”

“Finally some attention from my wife, seems like everyone needs her attention.” He peeled his eyes from the screen and onto you placing his peanuts into your purse. “Not anymore, we are all alone.”

Hearing that was like music to his ears, you both loved your son but ever since he was born your guys hadn’t been as intimate as you could’ve been if you had waited to have him.

“Isn’t Davi beside you?” Neymar leaned over checking the seat beside you. “Nope, Chris took him down a row or two to be closer to the screen.” You explained as you pulled your husband in for a quick kiss.

“So do you wanna find a bathroom?” He asked preparing to get up as he loosened his tie looking around to see if anyone or cameras were on them. “No! We’re watching the movie!”

You slapped his shoulder laughing quietly as you realized that the movie had just begun, you both turned to face the screen as you intertwine fingers holding hands.

—

Once the lights turned on the movie had needed you stood up almost stumbling over as your leg had fell asleep, Neymar had shot up to catch you stopping you from falling onto the person in-front of you. “Careful.”

“Thanks baby.” You pulled him in holding his cheek as you kissed both of them before going to find your son Neymar not that far behind you. Once you arrived to Chris’s row you had noticed that he had fell asleep in his arms.

“When he fell asleep you should’ve brought him back to me, thank you so much Chris.” Neymar bent down to pick up Davi from Chris’s arms who stood up to stretch the moment his child duty as relived.“My pleasure, you guys have such a funny kid. Stay safe guys.”

Once Chris begun walking away you shook your son awake slightly as you walked right behind him going to the same exit. “You wanna say bye to Thor sweetie?”

“Bye bye!” Davi yelled out waving his hand back and forth at Chris as he turned around and waved goodbye smiling before pushing the exit door open holding it open for Neymar to take, as Neymar held the door open you conversed with your son. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

“Yes! Mommy can we watch it again at home?”

“Oh boy.” You sighed chuckling at what was about to go down once again.“It hasn’t come out on TV yet baby.” You replied shortly hoping it’d end his constant train of questioning.

“Aww…”

“But Mommy can act it out for us! Did you see Mommy on the screen?” Neymar interrupted igniting the fire of Davi’s obsession with Marvel, you wanted to twist his lips off knowing every time you watched the marble series as a family he’d fall asleep.

“Yeah, Mommy can you act it out for us?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You said while laughing as you took Davi from Neymar to place him in his car seat, once he was secure in his seat you sat beside him with Neymar going to sit on the other side of the car.

Once you all were settled & the driver had begun to drive Davi was out like a light soon after leaving you and Neymar in comfortable silence.

“Did you like the movie?” You asked breaking the silence as you turned to him reaching your hand out for him to take, he took your hand & caressed you knuckles with his thumb.

“Of course I did, I’m so proud of you my love. You’ve come so far.” Neymar kissed the back of your hand as he rambled on about how proud of you he was, your heart melted at his praises as you smiled brightly unable to mask your happiness.

“Well I couldn’t have done it without you, thank you for always supporting me.” Neymar smiled back at you small blush on his face, he turned to face the window not letting go of your hand before continuing, “I love you.”

“I’m not on rewatching duty though, you have to do that.” You reminded turning to look out the window small smirk on your face that didn’t go unnoticed. “Whatever.” He replied letting go of your hand to grab your face kissing you all over before finishing with a quick kiss to your lips.

“I love you too, I guess.” You grumbled happily before pulling him by his chin for another quick kiss.

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houseofhyde · 1 year

Text

dressed in white (putting off crying).

pairing. daemon targaryen x fem!reader

synopsis. he knows of those who whisper that seeing the bride in her dress before the couple stands beneath the eyes of the seven births nothing but bad luck for a marriage, but daemon targaryen cares little for superstitions.

warnings. canon appropriate sexism/misogyny, implied valyrian!reader, implied incest (if you interpret this as the reader being targaryen), daemon is a simp for his lover!, likely ooc!daemon (i'm new to writing for him, i’ll get better, i'm sorry), poorly translated high valyrian, angst, fluff, descriptions of sex.

word count. 5.6k

hyde's input. lmao the title is based off a lyric from the (superior) the 1975 song meanswear. this whole scenario has been playing on my brain since i first watched hotd and i need to get it out before it drives me crazy by living in my tiny pea-brain for too long. i literally only made this blog to post this (since it wouldn't suit the writings on my main blog), so idk if i'll actually post anything else on here but feedback would be appreciated! anyway, daemon is a menace to society, i love him. sidenote,, i've always been terrified to post any fics in the got/hotd fandoms because istg every writer in this fandom has a god-like level of prose and it intimidates me, so please be nice if you think this sucks :) i’ve only read through this once, there may be spelling errors but it’s late and i just want to post this already!!!

tight braids rip hair from skull, gold incased jewels trap a delicate neck in a chokehold, stiff fabrics snuff out any heat of the westerosi sun from gracing dampened skin.

you aim to breathe in an air of relief for your aching lungs, yet the maiden behind you denies you of such a virtue as she pulls tighter on the set of strings holding up your bodice. you grow more lightheaded, oxygen starved body swaying momentarily, as a few more of your ladies in waiting assist with dressing you in the white coffin, lace cuffing your wrists like shackles and the weight of the gown feeling akin to that of a great beast, be it the weight of a stag, or a lion, or a wolf.

or a dragon.

“please,” hardly recognising your own voice, you flinch at the broken rasp that makes its way past your lips. your throat burns, your stomach churns, your eyes carry bags beneath them. far from a blushing bride, you are. the days of celebration leading up to the ceremony have taken an effect on both your mind and body, restless nights leading to uneaten feasts and unquenched thirsts. alas, you push such thoughts to that corner in your mind you reserve for nothing but tales of docile dragons and knights in dirtied armor as you straighten your stand, shoulders rising and head holding itself high. “may i have a moment of solitude within my chambers?”

your ladies shoot their attention over to the eldest among them, a septa who's hair has grown a deeper shade of grey with the passing of time and face has grown wrinkled by a history of smiles and laughter, and who bares the name of dorothea.

“of course, lady y/n. every woman must steal her last moment of solitude before she marries herself off to her lord husband. solitude will be sparse once you are wed.”

like an army of men, though far more graceful and colourful, the ladies make way towards the entrance of your chambers, spilling out in a single file line and shutting the door behind them.

and finally you breathe.

once, twice, thrice, and then you are a mess of desperate gasps and trembling limbs. you make your way over to the mirror which centres the room, steps more of an uncoordinated tumble than a graceful walk of a future lady of court.

met with your own reflection, something feels off. like a lack of connection, your astute mind can not fathom how this frail, tired, solemn looking girl bares any resemblance to the confident, bright eyed and quick witted woman you'd grown to be.

you trace your hands over the flaring of the dress' skirt, as if working out the creases in the fabric will loosen the ones that line your forehead. so caught up in your own unfitting image, you barely register the reopening of your chambers door.

“please, dorothea,” you sigh the woman's name out like she's bound to you by something more motherly than mere duty, the years spent in her company making for far better memories than the fleeting time you've passed with your true mother. “just a few more minutes. i'm... not ready. not yet.”

“i should hope not, you've yet to finish fastening the buttons on that ridiculous gown they've forced you into.”

the first thing you notice as your eyes meet the mirror once more is that your frown has deepened.

“you can't-” the second thing is him, dressed in the onyx and blood colours of his house, his newly shortened hair styled in a way that gives him a near boyish charm. the only visible slither of dark sister- nothing but a handle pressing into his left side- reminds you this is no boy, but a man, brutal and abrasive and protective, fresh from a victorious battle in which he walked away with a crown and the offering of another sword for his brother's throne. you're quick to correct your choice of words. “you shouldn't be here, prince daemon.”

if you were anyone else, you'd think the prince cares little- if anything- for the words you cast his way, arms clasped behind his back as he strides across the room with an air of arrogance, confidence, the stature of a man who not only belonged within your chambers but within your heart.

but, alas, you are you, and that means a great deal when it comes to the study of one targaryen prince. only you would notice the twitch in his brow, the snarl across his lips that is quickly denied in exchange for a smirk, the slight shrink of his shoulders as the weight of the truth sets itself upon them.

he's displeased.

whether the reason be your unusual use of his title- an act he knows you've committed with the foolish hope of putting distance between you both, if not physically then at least in power- or your attempt to banish him from your quarters evades you, but it matters little, really, for daemon is still approaching you.

he's upon you quicker than you expected, quicker than you wanted.

“let me.” two words, simple and used from the most common of folk to the most regal of lords, uttered in an infinite number of scenarios. yet, they may be your undoing as the silver haired man welcomes himself to the feel of your skin, a single finger trailing it's way down what remains exposed of your back. the touch mimics a shiver, something that tickles down your spine in a disturbingly enjoyable manner.

you nod your approval, too afraid to open your mouth and see what sounds he elicits from you, your heart too long starved of affection and his gentle caress the first it's tasted in years.

the fear of speaking carries on even as he departs from your skin, both hands joining in finishing the task of clasping your dress together. maybe this is worse, you think, having his knuckles bump against you every so often as he fiddles with the pearly white buttons, teasing you with what could be, what could've been.

“i never imagined us marrying under the seven.” part of you believes he's mocking you, torturing you with words he knows will wrap around your heart like vines and pierce the delicate organ with its thorns. you wonder if this is the targaryen prince known for his callous words and disregard for the sentiment of another come out to show you his true colours once and for all, gone now the days where he'd shower you in expensive metals and feed you the sweetest of treats.

he catches your line of sight in the reflective glass and his smile widens, pulling his lips with a heavy sense of dishonesty that makes your insides twist. never did you think there'd come a day where daemon targaryen would fake a smile towards you.

“īlva qilōni carry se ānogar hen uēpa valyria should dīnagon isse se ways hen uēpa valyria.” us who carry the blood of old valyria should marry in the ways of old valyria. there was a moment in time- back when the sight of a man was enough to make you blush- that you believed there was nothing, and no one, that compared to the beauty of hearing daemon speak his ancestral language, the old flame of valyria setting his soul ablaze. as you stand now, eyes stuck on watching how he's focused on one particularly stiff button, you find only heartache in hearing him speak high valyrian. not even the way he breaks his composed facade- though only for a mere handfull of seconds- to frown and scowl down at the stubborn button is enough to ease the tension in your chest. “ondos bound ondoso ānogar, daor dovodedha cloth.” hands bound by blood, not silly cloth.

by the time he finishes off fastening your gown, bile burns the back of your throat as his hands smooth down your back, painfully slow in their travels, giving you enough time to think of how this isn't how things were meant to be.

daemon was supposed to be the one eagerly tearing off your dress, not trapping you in its suffocating confines.

you decide to play into his fantasy, to let not only him but also yourself indulge in the sweet naïveté of wishful thinking.

“skoros ābrar gōntan ao imagine syt īlva?” what life did you imagine for us?

he takes a breath, pausing the conversation and inhaling as if to stable his wavering heart, focus his mind on choosing his next words wisely or run the risk of you shoving him away completely.

when he at last answers, you wish you'd never asked.

“i saw us trading life in the keep for dragonstone, making a home for ourselves where the targaryen history runs deepest. it's where we'd wed, where i'd get to listen to you swear vows to me that carry true meaning, unlike the shit i’ll have to endure hearing you spew later in the sept.” relief floods over you like a great storm as he switches back to the common tongue, a downpour which serves to dampen the fiery passion in his voice. his hands have found rest upon your mid-riff, large and warm and protective in the way they pull you back against his muscular chest. “we'd host feasts for whenever my brother insists on visiting us to keep up appearances of a false bond between his new family and his old one. you'd teach me about other languages, so i could express my adoration for you in every tongue known to man, and i'd show you what it is to never want for anything, make sure you own every possession you desire and feel every emotion you require.

“when we're not busy playing politics, in the moments you're not teaching our sons how to thread needles and to be good husbands, while i encourage our daughters to wield swords and to be strong, we'd spend that time in the throes of pleasure." the blunt ends of his nails dig deep into the layers of fabric, as if he's trying to tear the dress off to reveal the real you beneath, the you he's become all too enthralled by. the you that's bare, and pliant, and begging for his touch in a way that is not only sexual but primal, as though you'd perish if not for the brush of his lips against yours and warmth of his body casting over you like a shadow meant to seal you away from the harsh world. "fuck a marital bed, we'd make it into a marital home, a marital garden, a marital beach. i'd take you anywhere, work my fingers into you till they are broken, bruise my knees just to drink your sweet nectar, fuck you so full of my seed till it has nowhere else to go and no choice but to drip out of you, covering us in our brutal lovemaking.”

“daemon-”

“they'll tire of us, eventually, all our poor maids and guards. tire of catching me with you bent over any surface, tire of hearing you chant my name like i'm your only god. they'll be running back to kingslanding with their tails tucked between their legs, ready to spread the gossip of just how insatiable the rogue prince and his ravishing wife really are.”

“daemon, you really-”

“we can still have that life, my love.” he sounds so hopeful, glances upon you so eagerly in the reflective glass that you near crumble to the ground if not for the support of his arms around you. “hmm, wouldn't you prefer we do that, instead of this over the top ceremony that'll leave you with nothing but a headache and sore feet?”

the heartache behind his intentions sedates the anger that quells within your chest, way past the layers of bodice. it is not born from nowhere, this anger. not a fiery pit lit from an explosive catastrophe but, rather, a sole flame that has simmered and festered and burned for a near three years, mothered by solitude and fathered by abandonment.

“no, we can't.” intending to put your foot down, reign in control over yourself, hands reaching to tear his tiresome hold off of you, you're bereft to find yourself sighing a breath that leaves clear the exhaustion you've been harbouring- far beyond just physical, deep in the trenches of neglected emotions- , body melting into a puddle at his feet upon watching the familiar sight of your embracing limbs in the reflection. bitterness bites the back of your throat in this repeat of familiar history: you, daemon and bodies touching away from prying eyes and gossiping courtiers. “my father... he'd have your head, daemon. after everything he has done to secure this union happened... after all the rumours... it wouldn't be fair to him.”

daemon hums out an acknowledgement and you nearly convince yourself he's in agreement, that he understands the repercussions that would entail if you gave in to his game of make-believe; that he knows these pretty words that once were a gift for a younger version of yourself to hear, all tied up in a bow made of his velvet kisses upon your silk skin, have become a punishment meant to torment a child who'd dared to play with a toy that was never hers to touch in the first place.

all hope of redemption is lost with the tightening of his hold.

muscles flex beneath the red of his sleeves, an unspoken promise of the strength he harbours, the brute force he’d be more than willing to use should someone aim to take you from his hold. what follows is a resounding silence, where you’re too shaken to speak and his head rests it’s weight on your shoulder, the near-white crown of his head staring back at you in the mirror as it blends with the white of your gown. he burrows his face into the spot where your neck meets your shoulders, hiding whatever broken, troubled, pathetic- his own word for sad- expression paints his features.

“i thought you would wait for me.”

and just like that, the illusion is shattered, an accusatory tone to his voice which leaves behind nothing of the false sense of bliss or the hopeful future but jagged shards scattered along the ground, threatening to split your skin and make you bleed should you dare to clean it up.

“how could i, prince daemon?” the anger works its way through the cracks in your broken heart, taking up the space you’d once reserved for tears and forgiveness. “you left. no words, no warning, no goodbye. my loyalty is with my father and my house, and therefore marrying to secure a fruitful alliance for said house comes above all, even petty little princes.”

“i was banished! by my own brother! by your own-” he halts the words before he can speak them. though the dragon in him is awakening- the slightest of conflict rousing the ugly defensive side of him-, he stubbornly holds his position, eyes squeezing shut a little tighter to fight out the light of reality he’s trying to evade. “and now here i return to find the one person i came back for could not wait a measly three years for me!”

“if you think i’ve waited only three years for you, you’re an even greater fool than otto hightower.”

the prince tenses, the mention of his sworn nemesis (a feat which had earned him plenty a mockery on your end, forever bereft at the fact a supposed grown man could live with a near-playground level of hatred for another) causing the fire within him to grow more violent. he unwinds himself from the hold he’s got on you, arms dropping to his side and face rising from it’s hiding spot within your skin. in the mirror, he looms over you, staring down at you like he’s the red wyrm and you are but a helpless doe moments away from having your flesh burnt by his fire.

“forgive me, lady y/n,” the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as darkness overcomes his voice, matching the expression on his face. “i wasn’t aware of how deep your loyalty ran for you to whore yourself out so easily for some lord’s name and gold.”

with the twist of an ankle, you come face to face with the dragon prince, chest heaving with each laboured breath which fails to calm your nerves and nose blowing out what you imagine to be the steam of your fiery anger. you stagger back, he leans forward. hands land on your elbows and steady you, draw you nearer till the mounds of your breasts brush against his cloth-covered chest.

daemon is stunned to silence, a rare feat, as he gazes down at you and sees not the woman who’s wrapped up in white lace but the girl who’d been covered in tears and carried fear in her eyes as she took in the sight of the man she’d crashed into- quite literally, as he’d enjoyed reminding you whenever you had gotten a little too generous with the wine and led yourself down the path of unadulterated reminiscing in his chambers- in the halls of the keep. he remembers how it felt to truly look upon your face for the first time, to be lulled into a sedated state just by hearing your soft voice stuttering out apologies, to part ways from you with hands still burning from the heat of your flesh, refusing to cool down even as he sat among the small council, too busy clenching his fists and questioning what exactly was so bewitching about the maiden he’d caught in distress.

a sharp sting to his cheek is enough to shatter the memory, bringing him out of the looking glass of the past and into the present where your eyes are filled with more disgust than tears and the burn of your flesh is against his face instead of his hands.

you’d slapped him.

by gods, you’d actually struck him.

if the circumstances called for it, the prince wonders if his cock would be stiffening by now.

“you, of all people, have no right to call me a whore, lord fleabottom.”

“and yet i seem to recall you begging me to call you that during our past encounters.”

you grab at his collar, sharp nails digging into the dark material as if it were his windpipes, crushing them under your brutish strength. tugging him down with what you believe to be force- and what is truly just him giving into your attempt-, the pair of you find yourselves eye to eye, nose to nose, frown to frown.

oh, yes, his cock would certainly be hard, were his heart not so weak.

“you are a despicable excuse of a man.” you mean to spit the words in his face, praying to all the old gods and the new for this feeling to truly be hatred, disgust, disdain. three years have passed and, with it, so has your love, leaving a gapping hole meant only to be filled with hate. were it not for the shaking of your free hand, or the pounding of your heart in your ears, you’d believe your prayers had been answered. alas, the gods are cruel and your words fall only as a whisper on his ears. “i pity the women who have been scorned with loving you.”

“come now, my lady, you were always so against those who pitied themselves.”

“do you hear how pathetic you sound?” taken aback by his rebuttal, your response comes with a moments delay, one you hope he does not notice. the grin he casts down at you proves otherwise, and serves as yet another plank of dry wood tossed on to the blazing embers of your ire. “i am to be married come high noon, and you are already a married man! put aside your wants and realise your duty, perhaps then your king would not see it necessary to rid himself of you.”

“and what a marriage it’ll be, my lady! with your dearest lord cunt lannister parading you around as though you are some prized deer he’s caught for a feast, and you drowning yourself in riches and wines to forget the horrid memory of his red face above yours.” he matches your own grip on him, his far larger and far stronger hand shooting out to take a hold of you by the neck of your dress. he’s a brute, tugging on the expensive cottons like they are no more than the clothes of a common whore. “rumour has it your dear husband-to-be is one of those one-pump-chumps, so at the very least he’ll get it over with quickly, allowing you to roll over and bring yourself some satisfaction as his pathetic seed paints your thighs.”

“at least my marriage will be consummated!” daemon scoffs as quickly as the words have shot out your mouth, no harm coming from them, not with how many nights he’d spent in your sheets claiming he’d sooner fuck his own dragon than touch his so-called bronze bitch. the real kicker, the true spear through his pride, the thing you know only by rumour and not by fact, is what you say next. “meanwhile you’ll continue to chase pleasure in whores who look like me from the back, but just never quite sound, smell, taste, feel the same as i do.”

“keep talking and i’ll take it as an invitation to remind myself of just exactly how you feel.”

“if the recent rumours about you are true, my prince, i doubt you’ll be capable of getting your cock to rise for the occasion.”

silence takes hold of the little space between you. contemplation evident on his face, he straightens back up to his full height, eyes no longer at level with your own as they cast down a look which lacks all the sharp edges from before. no longer are his eyes daggers that threaten to slice through you but, instead, blankets of warmth and safety which ache to wrap around your tired bones and shield you from the cold which accompanies the feeling of solitude.

the hand which once held you by the top of your dress has traveled up the expanse of your neck, fingers soft and lazy in the way they stroke over the skin. before you even process your own actions, the grip you have on his own clothes loosens, till your hand is merely resting against the solid mass of his chest.

for the first time since the rogue prince had returned to the capital, victorious and wearing a crown, you allow yourself to take in the sight of him, wholly and unserved. you admire the shortened length of his hair, noting how it frames his face in a way that fully brings out its sharp edges. you trace over the new lines in his skin, unintentionally reminiscing on words you'd both exchanged between tangled limbs and the moonlight ( “they are a sign that i'm aging, sweetling.” “they are a sign that you've lived.”). you catch sight of mangled skin along his right side, peeking out from beneath his clothing. your heart clenches at the thought of him in pain, and you distract yourself from thinking of what other marks decorate his war-torn body by returning attention to his lilac eyes.

three years have passed since you had last held each other and, against your own wishes, your heart still remembers to beat harder around him.

“he will not love you.” the words are an exhale from him, like he's resigning you to your own fate.

“i do not need love.” the words you speak become the first lie you've ever told him, making even with the way he'd faked his smile earlier.

“then if not love, freedom. that cunt will not give you that." you aim to tear away from his piercing eyes, yet the force of his hand tilting your chin upwards gets in your way. he may have been at war, you think, but he's inflicting a greater torture upon you than any fallen soldier right now, imploring you to look upon his weakened state in a way he's never allowed before. "he will give you gold, and dresses, and dresses made of gold to occupy yourself with, but never freedom.”

“freedom is a fool’s game.”

“gaomā daor ȳdragon hae aōla.” you do not speak like yourself. this time, he does not prevent you from looking back at your own reflection. you wish to whine about how you do not look like yourself either, dressed in such a ridiculously white gown but don't in fear that he'll take it as invitation to slice through it with his dear dark sister. “what happened to the girl who used to make plans to see the world on dragon's back, to taste every wine, to be tied to no land?”

“she died somewhere between the first time you kissed her and six moons into your war for the stepstones.”

like the mirror were something akin to the mystical, future-telling balls you'd heard of in the stories of witches and seers, the memory of your first kiss plays out before you. you remember it all like it was merely yesterday. the way you'd at last bested him after the five moons of midnight training you'd endured. the way he lay frozen on the ground, eyes widened in a mixture of shock, irritation and pride. the way he'd marched over to you and sent thrilling chills of fear down your spine as you worried he aimed to scold you for daring to nick the right side of his cheek with your blade, drawing out blood. the way he'd ripped your weapon from your hand, thrown it off to some unseen part of the dark training grounds and proceeded to attack you. only, where you had expected raised fists and seething words, he gave bruising kisses and sighs of satisfaction, the victory of at last going against everyone else's supposed better judgement and giving into the carnal desires he'd tried to cast aside in favour of protecting your virtue in the eyes of the cunts that sat with himself and your own father at the small council.

and then, you blink and suddenly it is half a decade later and you're standing in those same dark, cold, training grounds, only this time the prince is nowhere in sight and you're hacking at a man made of straw, picturing the king's brother's face with every swing of the blade.

“most nights i barely knew if you were alive, daemon! any news of you was sparse, and never meant to fall upon my ears. were it not for rhaenyra serving as cupbearer for the council, overhearing the gossips that ensued in their meetings, i'd never have found out you'd gone to war in the first place. waiting for you to send a raven, or send at the very least a sign that you ached for me as much as i did you, it broke me. and, as i put the fractured pieces of myself back together, i found i was no longer the wide eyed fool you'd left me. i was no longer going to cry over a man who didn't respect me enough to let me know of his leaving.”

“how could i write you, my lady? was it not you who asked of me that our affairs be kept a private matter? i'd have thought our scandal was lesson enough for you to learn there are rats in every crevice of kingslanding. a single letter from me would have been your undoing.” the anger returns to his voice, though not so all-consuming this time around. behind your own reflection, you see him shifting around, body growing agitated with the need to do something, anything to expel the dark energy coursing through his veins. “we both know i have not once had an issue with making my affections for you known, it is you who was so scared to be branded as my mistress! so do not dare question my respect for you. everything you've wanted, i've given. anything you've asked of me, i've done. and it was still not enough to mark my claim on your heart.”

“why do you still not see my heart is not some land to be won?” if at any moment you pondered the possibility of the maids outside your chambers being aware of the reason behind daemon's current presence, the raising of your voice and the words you spit out at him must be enough to confirm any of their suspicions. you wonder which of them will be the one to spread the word, until it reaches your father's ears or- worse- your betrothed. “nyke daor mirri sombāzmion hen pryjata syt ao naejot hang bona jaes-forsaken bartōro hāre zaldrīzes banner iemnȳ.” i am not some castle of ruins for you to hang that god-forsaken three-headed dragon banner within.

if words were daggers, yours would have pierced through his darkened heart and twisted the blade. for there is nothing more prideful to a targaryen than their own bloodline- and many a nights you'd spent, sat at candlelight with the infamous conquest of aegon targaryen himself depicted to you in a written word, pondering if this grandiose sense of self is what lead to their customs of taking their own kin to wed-, the hot tempered prince being the greatest example of this, rumoured to have once made a eunuch of a man who dared to so little as roll his eyes as a young viserys targaryen passed by him in a brothel.

you feel him more than you see him move behind you, weight shifting from one leg to another and carrying the rustle of metals and leather with it. he's glaring at you through the reflective glass, mouth pressed shut in a straight line and hands clasped behind his back, as if holding them there is some way of holding off whatever thoughts he had of touching you with hands that had brought so many people to their end- his own wife being their latest victim.

several minutes of silence pass by before you realise he's weighing out his options, trying to choose what to say next. the rogue prince, known for his unmatched wit and possessing the ability to argue his way out of acts of war against his very own brother, is lost for words for a second time.

when the words come to him at last, you wish they'd disappear again.

“i am a proud man. i have fought, and lived, and fucked with fire and blood, so this will be the first and only time i will ask this of you.” you watch with baited breath and sweating palms as daemon's figure lowers itself behind you and, with no second thought to be found, you swirl around in your gown just in time to watch his right knee meet the floor, his other one positioned perfectly at a ninety-degree angle and holding his weight as he leans his arm against the muscular thigh. his head is tilted up, desperation dancing gracefully with the heartache in his eyes as his right hand finds comfort in tangling itself with your own, him relishing in your touch and you fighting so hard to forget each and every other time he'd held your hand so gently.

in an imitation of his return to king visery's graces, he's bowing for you as though it will win him back your favour and the warmth of your bed.

“do not make yourself a lannister, do not wed him. lady rhea royce is dead, there is nothing obstructing our path. we can make it to the dragonpit before anyone even notices you're gone, we'll be wed by sundown, i beg of you. kostilus, marizzo hen ñuha prūmia, mazverdagon nyke aōha valzȳrys.” please, owner of my heart, make me your husband.

it is a plea for so much more than your hand.

it is a plea for your life, a plea for your future, a plea for a world where you reside upon dragon's back and he resides anywhere that is by your side.

it is everything you've ever wanted to hear from him, coming into fruition in the worst way imaginable: dressed in a wedding gown meant for another man.

“skoro syt sir? skoro syt līs ao epagon bisa hen issa sir?” why now? why must you ask this of me now? you pull in a breath and push out a sob, eyes welling with unshed tears as you force yourself to rip away from his lilac irises to find safety in staring up at the cold, unfeeling ceiling. “skoro syt daor skori nyke istan nykeēdrosa dāez naejot vestragon kessa?” why not when i was still free to say yes?

before he can fumble out a response, the door to your chambers reopens.

unlike before, it truly is dorothea this time.

“my lady,” she looks past the prince on his knees as though she can not even see him, too committed to her loyalty for you to rub a greater amount of salt in the gaping wound upon your heart which is daemon targaryen. there is no doubt when believing she'd never utter a word of the scene she has walked in on. “we must make haste. the ceremony will commence shortly, and there can be no wedding without a bride.”

the grip on your hand grows tighter, a silent plea from daemon to get you to look at him again, to see him for all that he may be- a man made of untamed disrespect, a tally of war crimes, blood of the so called dragon seed and, above all else, love for you- and take him as your own.

it makes it an even greater battle when you force your aching body to pull away from him, hands patting down the creases in your dress one last time before making your way over to the door.

this time around, it is you who leaves daemon a mess on your chambers' floor, kneeling there till his knees ache and the wedding bells have long ago rang out.

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen oneshot #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen fluff #house of the dragon smut #lmao the description of this fic is so misleading.. it's basically click bait i'm so sorry 🥴

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