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oneeyedlove · 2 months

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King of the ashes.

summary | Moons had passed since your last quarrel with your estranged husband, the events of Rook’s Rest bringing you together one more time.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x oc!reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x oc!reader (platonic).

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! Unprotected sex, PinV, arguing, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of death, Targ!cest, ANGST/little comfort, ooc Aemond (probably). SPOILERS

wordcount | 8.5K - i am so sorry

note | All the valyrian i use comes from a very shady translator so there probably are a lot of mistakes, if you have any input or helpful information pls tell me. I got really excited writing this but I feel the last part is a bit rushed, sorry about that! Any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Find part 1 here

[ gif by @gameofthronesdaily ]

124 AC

The afternoon sun spilled its light upon the tearful eyes of prince Aemond Targaryen, almost if mocking his heartache through its refulgent heat. The young boy sheltered himself in a seemingly abandoned corridor of the Red Keep, seeking solace from the cruel hoax imposed on him during his lessons. He could still hear them, their words — “The Pink Dread”. Such title roared in his ears, humiliation engulfing the silver prince as he forced his cries back into his throat. His mother had failed in her feeble attempts to comfort him, her attention focused solely on punishing his nephews for their so called savagery — even if it was clear this had Aegon’s name written all over it.

The worst part was that she had witnessed it. She hadn’t laughed or joined them in their persecution, but he could not bear the thought of his weakness being exposed before her. Hers was the judgment he feared most after all, she was the only one he could truly call friend.

Aemond hadn’t taken notice of a blue covered figure that watched him until she sat at his side, her weight shifting the cushions of the settee beneath them. His eyes refused to meet hers, hoping to conceal his shame as he hugged his knees against his chest. The girl stared at him in silence, her back resting on the wall whilst her feet dangled over the edge of her seat.

“Aem…” Aelora finally spoke, the softness in her tone melodic as a ballad.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

She had been made aware of Aemond’s displeasure concerning the dearth of a dragon to call his own through countless protests, his state being one of constant anger towards what he deemed his fault. It was also known by her that he would grow to be the most estimable dragonrider of them all, for none were devoted to learning and practicing as he was — it was only a matter of patience. Thus, when Aelora’s eyes caught sight of the swine inside the dragonpit, her brothers knew their mother’s chastening would be nothing compared to hers.

“My brothers are fools, I wish to apologize on their behalf.” She brought her hand to hold his, a gesture of innocent assurance.

“You did not deserve it.”

The boy slowly drifted his eyes from the window to lay his gaze upon her, his heartbeat quavering at her touch. Nevertheless, her kind words couldn’t erase his shortcomings — he couldn’t accept charity for his ridicule, he wouldn’t.

“I… I have no need for your pity.” As much as he tried, he failed to stop woe from consuming his voice, as well as his demeanor.

“I don’t pity you.” Grasping his hand tighter, she looked at him through furrowed brows.

“You shall have a dragon. One even bigger than Sunfyre, I know it! In the meantime you can help me with Lyrrax, even fly with me once she’s big enough!”

It was evident her enthusiasm was a childish one, an effort to install hope over the sorrow that buried his thoughts — but she had no care for it. She noticed as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips, even as he tried to suppress it. She wasn’t the one who owed him an apology, and yet there she was, offering her own dragon for an olive branch. His gaze flickered down at their hands, her smaller one over his, and he intertwined their fingers. The tension in his shoulders visibly eased, for Aelora’s presence was reassuring and tender.

“You truly believe I'll claim one?” He asked, unable to hide the fleeting shadow of optimism that burned in his eyes.

“I am certain of it. We are Targaryens, the blood of the dragon. You just haven’t found the right one for you.” A smile crept its way onto her face, her cheeks rosy and plump with eagerness.

Aemond scanned the girl before him, his expression almost vulnerable. The feeling of indignity was one familiar to the young boy and he had enough of it. He contemplated her words for a moment, and for once allowed himself to consider she might be right.

“Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I lack patience.” He let out a deep breath, as if letting go of the bitterness that had taken hold of him.

“You would do well to remember I’m always right.” The smug grin on her face earned herself only a rolling of eyes in response.

“Come on. I know something that will lift your spirits.”

Her words had barely escaped her lips before she burst through the corridor, tugging the prince’s hand as they ran. Hurried footsteps clashed against cold stone as Aelora strided through the maze of indistinguishable aisles, her gaze occasionally flickering towards the boy behind her. The smile that stubbornly weld itself onto Aemond’s face had transformed into a beaming grin, the sound of her angelic giggles clipping away the sullenness from his features.

A deafening thump alerted the prince of their whereabouts, the wide entry of her bedchamber welcoming him inside. He stepped in and curiously observed as she struggled to close the wooden doors, trapping the pair of them in concealment. The calling gesture of the princess hand woke him from his trance as he marched towards the illustrated wall beside her bed.

“Wait, what are you doing?” His head tilted in confusion whilst he fixated his lilac eyes on her hands. Her palm grazed the intricate designs on the stone, finally encountering the familiar crease on the surface — she pushed it, a dimly lit passageway staring back at him.

“Its Maegor’s secret tunnels!”

Aemond's bewilderment had quickly given way to wonder and awe. The maesters had taught him legends of Maegor's construction schemes, rumored to be an intricate labyrinth hidden beneath the Red Keep, but he never dreamed he would get to see them for himself.

“What?! How in the Seven Hells did you find them?”He asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“A fortunate accident.” She shrugged.

“I was hoping to find the way to your apartments and surprise you but I reckon it cannot be done anymore.”

“You’re mad!” His gaze quickly flickered back to Aelora.

His eyes, violet in the soft daylight that cascaded through the nearby window, studied her almost warily, as if to gauge a reaction from her. He received no such thing. The princess brought her hand to his once again, carefully establishing themselves inside the narrow corridor as the heavy stone shut behind the two. Aemond allowed himself to be pulled along, not even protesting in favour of the tunnel. He observed the strange architecture through their route, the dim light that filtered through small gaps, and the strange cobwebs that had taken form. The limb that remained in hers seemed to squeeze it almost possessively — out of fear, or out of eagerness, Aelora could likely tell.

The hairs atop the young royals’ heads twirled at the light breeze that embraced them, the scent of saltwater filling their nostrils. A moss covered archway revealed a small, damp cavern. As they entered, rugged walls formed by weathered rock surrounded them and an opening that lead directly onto the beach offered a panoramic view of the shoreline and the rolling waves beyond. Beams of sunlight streamed in through gaps, illuminating the cave's interior with a soft, ambient glow. Their feet grazed the sandy floor underneath them, scattered with small shells and pebbles, remnants of the sea's presence. Inside the serene and veiled space, a true connection between land and ocean can be felt — a fitting discovery for a princess of House Velaryon.

Aelora’s brown orbs searched for the boy’s lilac ones, a wide grin spread on her face as she squeezed his hand tenderly.

“So… What do you make of it?”

Aemond was quietly impressed, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling of the cave, eyes roaming across the stalactites that hanged over them, a small gasp escaping his pink lips. He slowly peeled his hand from the princess, walking over to the opening to look out at the sea.

“How — how did you find this place?” The young prince questioned softly, his head turning back to look at her with an almost admiring gaze.

“It is unimportant. We can confine ourselves here whenever we like! The others do not know about it — I’m halfway certain no one does.”

A small, pleased smile tugged on his features just at the thought of using the cave as a hideaway; a private place, just for himself and Aelora. He hums quietly under his breath, in slight agreement.

“Our secret?” He extend his pinky towards her, indicating for her to do the same.

“Ours.” She smiled as she locked their fingers together in a silent promise.

A silent minute exchanged itself between the pair, the linger of a childish oath tickling their skin. The future memory would cling to their hearts for years to come, a longing fondness drowning them each and every time — except they had no knowledge of it as of the moment, being too focused on the possible amusement that would certainly come from the cavern’s discovery.

“I can best you to the shore!” Aemond wasted no time as he sprinted to approach the broken waves at the end of the beach.

“Wait!” She shouted, avidly picking up her pace to match the boy’s, his long limbs giving him a considerable advantage over the girl behind him.

It had been an entire afternoon of nothing but running, chasing, and exploring together. The young prince had forgotten his troubles and worries completely, instead focusing on the thrill of catching a slippery, wiggling sand crab. The cold feeling of the seawater against his skin didn’t bother him either, nor did the wind whipping at his silver hair as they sat building sandcastles. By the time dusk began to settle, the two children had become completely filthy with sand, mud, and water. Their garments were most likely ruined from the seaweed’s smell, fact that would assuredly earn them serious reprimands from their mothers. Yet, he could not remember a time when he felt so alive.

As they returned to the cave, the sunset’s glow reflected in the wet stones inside, a sense of comfort enveloping the rock-strewn cavity. Aelora’s gaze fell upon the young prince before her, his valyrian grace never yielding to his disheveled appearance. She observed as he bent down, a sharp ore emerging in his hand.

“What are you doing?” She questioned through a mess of rumpled braids.

Aemond glanced up to look at her, smiling softly. With careful movements, the boy carved into the rock, his free hand resting against the stone wall for balance. After a moment, the four letters of their initials were carved into the stone. The scribbles “A.T.” and “A.V.” were jagged and a bit uneven, but still clearly visible.

”Leaving a marking… to remember.”

---

129 AC

Bleeding. Bruised. Brokenhearted. Those were the exact words to describe the state in which princess Aelora Velaryon arrived at Dragonstone. The crimson liquid that gushed out of her right side was courtesy of a Kingsguard during his desperate attempts to put a stop to her fleeing — the remnants of his white cloak hanging from Lyrrax’s teeth were evidence of the retribution he earned. The loyal she-dragon landed crudely, sharp claws sinking in the placid sand as her screeches blended with her rider’s whimpers. The princess could sense the pain inside the beast’s mind, their unbreakable connection making their emotions into one.

Pellets of rain grazed her face as she crawled up the endless stairs towards the peak of the islet, the translucent droplets mixing with tears of her own. The young woman’s sobs were filled with tales of disloyalty. She had betrayed her family, her duty, and worst of all, she had been betrayed by him. The one who stood before the gods of Old Vayria and pledged his unyielding love for her. The one who she had deemed worthy of the deserting of her kin. The one who promised her a future beyond the carnage of war. And yet he was the first to commence bloodshed. Her devotion had not been enough to subdue Aemond’s thirst for revenge — but how she wished that it had.

The mud on the soles of her shoes stuck to the stone floor, leaving behind a trail of shame as she entered the intimidating fortress. Her name and titles thundered inside her ears as the voice of a guard announced her arrival, though she hadn’t actually heard him. Her tormented psyche fevered with dread, fearful of the reactions she would receive due the forsaking of her own blood. All the eyes of her mother’s Small Counsel widened at the sight of the princess, distress and grief scattered across their faces. Her gaze flickered to the silvery locks on Raenyra’s head, the woman’s back turned to the room.

Aelora’s steps were slow and somber, as if her soul had faded and the lifeless carcass of who she was moved against her wishes. She skipped past Daemon at her mother’s side, lacking the nerve to meet his stare. Finally, she reached the bereaved woman before her, brown meeting lilac in a lachrymose gaze. Their pale hands intertwined in haste, and the once composed tears transformed into loud sobs as the young princess collapsed to her knees, begging for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness. Blood and teardrops met in the Black Queen’s dress, staining it as she knelt in front of her daughter. She brought up her palm to caress the side of the young woman’s face, the maternal touch conveying a juvenile yearning in Aelora’s heart.

“Oh my sweet girl.” Her mother whispered as anguish imbued her words.

---

The moons that followed Luke’s death were arduous for the princess, constantly having to prove herself before the family that once accepted her. Rhaena and Rhaenyra had silently recognized Aelora’s circumstances, acknowledging she grieved for a husband as well as a brother. Baela had hesitated in the endorsing of her cousin but surrendered to her pleads nonetheless. Daemon barely addressed his wife’s daughter, his hatred for his nephew fused inside the resentful stares he gave her. Despite her best efforts to cope with her standing, it was Jacaerys’ unyielding disregard for his sister that slayed the woman’s hope of mending their bond. The storm behind the prince’s eyes was well hidden inside his stoic expressions, seemingly unaffected by Aelora’s prayers for his recognition. It was only in the afternoon before their grandmother’s departure for Rook’s Rest that the siblings found each other.

The soft rustle of parchment echoed through the otherwise silent library, a salty breeze infiltrating itself through the window. The princess sat by the unlit fireplace as her gaze swept across the leather-bound books scattered inside the numerous shelves, each and all replete with the history of House Targaryen. The smell of dusty, old tomes was a bitter comfort in the midst of her morose silence. She had accustomed herself to this moments of solitude, seeking solace inside her soul. At heart, her deepest fantasies scampered free, picturing a simpler life as a commoner — untethered by the Targaryen name and relieved from the torment of the constant shadow of war.

Aelora was chased back into reality as Jacaerys’ presence made itself known. The young man invaded the room like a blizzard, his cold glare locking upon her figure as she rested over the armrest of the settee. Her eyes glistened with heartache once she felt how profoundly hostile her brother had become, turning on his heel to abandon her presence. The woman’s voice trembled as she spoke, her words pleading and vulnerable.

"Jacaerys, wait...please."

He halted, his shoulders tense as he looked back at her. The expression on his face was hard to read, a mixture of ire and pain etched into his features.

"What do you want, Aelora?" His voice was cold, the distance between them palpable.

"Have I stooped so low in your graces that my presence offends you? We are family, Jacaerys. Can we not even speak?" Her voice was laced with a hint of desperation as she asked.

"You ask for words as if they could undo what has already been done." His expression hardened, his jaw tightening at her words.

Aelora got to her feet, her legs trembling under her weight. He spoke as if it had been her to murder Luke, not Aemond. Her eyes met his as she stood, her voice wavering with a mix of sorrow and anger.

“Do you truly believe I have not been made aware of that?!”

“Every day of my miserable existence is plagued by guilt. I close my eyes at night yet sleep eludes me, for the ghost of Luke haunts my every thought!” She grew restless at every word, tears forming in her brown orbs as she gestured frantically through phrases.

“I know I failed him, as I failed you and our family… But don't forget I too lost a brother that day.”

Jacaerys stood frozen in place, his grief still bubbling within him and yet his heart ached at the sight of his sister's tears. Her words cut through him like a dagger, his own teardrops threatening to fall.

"Luke is gone, Aelora, and your presence here only serves as a reminder of that fact." He took a step backwards, his jaw clenching as he struggled to control his emotions.

“You cannot blame me for what was not my doing. I was Aemond’s wife, not his conscience — albeit my best efforts.”

"But you married our enemies, sister! Do you truly believe your actions have no consequences?"

"You stood by while they plotted against us and our family. How can I not blame you, when you chose to bind your fate to theirs?" A hint of anger flashed in Jacaerys' mournful eyes as he continued.

“i admit i have made my bed and I must lie in it, but you speak of matters you do not understand.” She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she could shield herself from his hatred.

“He swore to me…“ Her voice cracked, heartbreak swallowing her words.

“He swore to avoid this — to stop this insane feud. He is an oathbreaker as well as a kinslayer and he made me a fool!”

The room was still tense but as Aelora's sobbing grew heavier, something shifted within Jacaerys. He stepped closer to his sister, and without a word, pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. His body was warm against her chilly frame as he held her close, almost protectively. Their grievances seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced only by a shared sorrow as her tears dampened his shoulder.

“Do you hold love for him, still?” He whispered.

“Only for the memory of who he used to be.”

The prince held Aelora a little tighter at her admission, his chin resting on the top of her head as they remained locked in their embrace. He could feel the weight of her broken heart and the ache it left her with. His wrath had dimmed, replaced by a sense of care and familial loyalty.

"Memories are not enough… Promise to break him should you get the chance"

“I will.”

Neither of them knew, but she lied.

Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, met her fate by the hands of the newly appointed Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Meleys, The Red Queen, had her head paraded through the streets of King’s Landing.

And Aelora, Aemond’s beloved nightmare, sent him a raven.

“We must speak. Find me at ghost’s hour where salt meets memory.

A.V.”

---

The stars twinkled outside the formidable walls of Dragonstone, nightfall enveloping the island in its deep shadows. The approach of ghost’s hour disrupted the princess’ heartbeat inside her chest, her previous conviction giving way to fright as she slithered into the network of caves where the dragons nested. Aelora called out to Lyrrax, her voice wavering with a mixture of stress and uncertainty. As the great beast appeared before her, its wings unfurling, she couldn't help but wonder why she had sent the meeting request at all.

The dragon’s own tension could be felt through her scales as the princess climbed onto its back, the weight of her decision settling on them like a heavy cloak. As they soared through the night sky, Aelora's thoughts were consumed by memories of Aemond and his treachery. The image of him flying over her grandmother’s corpse haunted her mind — the cold, merciless expression he conveyed twisting her guts. She questioned her own judgement in seeking him out, even as her heart yearned for the man who once pledged his undying love and protection. She looked back at Dragonstone, its familiar walls and towers illuminated by the silvery moonlight; she was abandoning her blood for him once again. The princess could only surmise she was either possessed by madness or a true lovelorn fool.

The frigid roar of wind traveled across her face as Lyrrax’s wings scraped over the tide’s surface, saltwater droplets cutting into her skin as well as her pride. She knew her grandmother would never forgive her for this, it was likely none would; she was an idiotic excuse for a Targaryen if she thought seeking the slayer of so many of her kin was justifiable. The burden of loss hung heavily on Aelora's soul as she took in the landscape before her. The faces of Rhaenys and Luke, forever etched in her mind, fueled a mix of anger and trepidation inside the young woman. Her thoughts swirled with a maelstrom of emotions as she soared towards him, recollections of the past playing out like a tragic play as her brown orbs focused upon the once affectionate site of King’s landing.

With practiced grace, Aelora guided the dragon into a smooth descent, its blue wings beating against the air as its claws set down on the shore of Blackwater Bay. The sound of their landing was muffled by the night, its velvety darkness swallowing the pair by the quiet that enveloped the world like a thick, black blanket. The crash of the waves greeted the princess’ ears as she dismounted, struggling to catch her breath and steady her emotions. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the young woman caught sight of the familiar cave that laid ahead, its entrance like a dark maw in the cliffside. The jagged edges were illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, sending shadows dancing across the rocky surface.

Bittersweetness engulfed Aelora’s frame as the memories memories of her secret rendezvouses with Aemond brimmed in her mind. Every step she took towards the cave was like a blow to her legs, feeling shaky and unsteady. Doubt gnawed at her spirit as if a persistent rat, her stomach flipping with every crunch of the sand beneath her feet. Yet, she pushed forward, determination fueling the princess even as her disheveled heartbeat hammered against her ribcage.

The sight of Aemond standing amongst the shadows caught Aelora off guard, the dim light emanating through the cave's entrance barely illuminating his form — she had thought to be the first to arrive. Before she could stop it, a slight gasp escaped her lips and her eyes widened in disbelief. He looked different, somehow. He seemed further villainous and wearied, the once familiar spark in his eye now replaced by a bold robustness. His sharp and handsome features were now harder, almost rugged, as if her absence had left its mark on him. Swallowing hard, she acknowledged the stark contrast between the nostalgic sentiment that nearly overcame her a moment ago and the tense silence that now enveloped them. They stood opposite each other mutely, both frozen and locked in each other’s gaze.

“Wife.” He greeted, his voice grazing her earlobes like the finest of silks.

“That title does not fit me any longer.” She replied coldly.

His lilac eye examined Aelora’s frame from head to toe, her cloak hiding black leather garments — most likely dragonriding attire. She looked skinnier than he recalled, the shadows only enhancing the redness of her eyes. Aemond could not help but wonder whether she had been weeping during her journey there, grief tackling her psyche as well as her build. The princess demeanor turned stiff, arms crossing as she stood clearly on edge.

“You remain mine, before gods and men.” His gaze flickered with something akin to resentment.

“Kinslaying is a rather suitable ground for an annulment, i should think.” She said, removing the cloak from her head, allowing her braid to cascade over her shoulder.

He froze, the muscles on his neck and jaw tensed. His first reaction is one of anger, clenching his fist as he prepared hateful words inside his throat. But as he looked her in the eye, his wrath melted away into something much more dangerous and devastating — something fragile. All he could see was the girl he grew up with, the girl who stood by him at his boyhood. The woman who whispered sweet nothings amongst the vows of their wedding. The woman who played silly songs on the harp and sang with the loveliest voice he'd ever heard. The wife who's hands he dreamed of at night.

“So eager to rid yourself of the shame affixed to my reputation… And yet, you request my presence with equal vigor.” He stood with his hands behind his back, swallowing any desires that threatened to get the better of him.

“It is my understanding you have become Prince Regent.” She tried to ignore his jabs, the truthfulness they held hitting a sore point inside Aelora.

“The betrayal of your brother becomes you. Yet another broken oath in your conquest for the throne.” She returned his insults, the knowledge of his ambition stirring something within the prince.

“You speak of broken oaths. And what ought I call the oaths you have broken? The promises we made when we married in front of Heleana and the Gods?” His one eye darkened, taking a step forward as he kept his tone controlled.

“Your hypocrisy is staggering.” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he spoke.

“My hypocrisy?!” She could feel the anger boiling her blood, as if fire consuming wood.

“Your sanctimonious preaches fail to erase your true nature, Aemond. Naming yourself Targaryen whilst the sigil of our house is paraded through the streets as if some vainglorious prize of war!” Her voice turned to screeches as it echoed through the stone walls of the cave.

“You may call me a bastard if you wish to, but my blood honors Old Valyria far more than yours.”

Aemond’s hand shot to her wrist, gripping it tight enough to leave marks on the skin underneath. His single eye was wild and livid, the scar around it turning his gaze even more menacing. He moved a step closer, the scent of him overwhelming her — mint and leather mixed with a hint of smoke, the familiar essence blurred her senses in a wave of longing. The princess hid her weakening behind a wrath curtain, the disdain she held for the twisted version of him that now stood before her casting their love aside.

“Watch your tongue, Aelora.”

“Or else? Will your murder me as you did my brother? My grandmother? I can see the conqueror’s dagger in it’s seath, evidence of yet another attempt at fratricide!” She accused him further.

“Have you not done enough? Must you ravage our family and yourself in your thirst for power?”

The hand that gripped her wrist traveled up to the back of her head, grabbing the braided hair. Yanking it softly, he pulled Aelora even closer, his lilac orb flickering over her expression.

“I am Prince Regent as the Gods intended.” He hissed into her ear, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“My reign, unlike that of Aegon, will be glorious — my rule absolute. And you, wife, will be by my side when I sit on the Iron Throne.”

Aelora’s eyes betrayed her as water began to brim in their edges, a horrified gleam passing through her forming tears. A hand cupped his left cheek as she scanned him, a desperate search for the man he once was. The man she longed for each night. The man who was the source of greater heartache than she had ever felt in her life. The man who was also the root of her most joyous moments.

“Your ambition shall be your demise, husband. I was yours before all of this, before your perverseness overcame your affection for me.”

“The crown may sit upon your brow, but i have sufficiently torn my heart to shreads in my attempts to remove you — even if you are my weakness, I will never belong by your side once more.”

”No wrath or cruelty is capable of subduing my craving of you, issa vēzos (my sun).” He leaned into her touch, letting his eye flutter at the feeling of the soft skin of her palm against his cold cheek.

In that moment of contact, he seemed so vulnerable, and much younger than his years. He was weak. A pathetic, love-sick man, and he could not bring himself to care. Aemond leaned his head against hers, their foreheads connecting as his gaze softened.

“I am plagued by thoughts of you and I, each reminiscence a torment to my soul.”

“Come back to me, be my Queen and rule by my side. Our love will be known forever through the Seven Kingdoms, your belly swollen with our child ensuring our line shall never be forgotten.”

There was a moment of silence as Aelora absorbed his words. He was offering her a chance at a life she had dreamed of, one full of passion and legacy as their offspring lived on after them. But it would be an existence consumed by greed, she knew it. There could be no going back after what he had done; Lucerys would never be uncle to her progeny and Rhaenys wouldn’t be there to counsel her through hardships. Their family was torn from the beginning, the tapestry of their lives further lacerated by his actions. And she couldn’t betray her blood again.

“I would do anything for you.” He begged.

“Would your bend the knee to my mother?” Her voice was shaky as the lachrymose gaze she held shattered, its translucent shards falling through her cheeks.

"I will give you anything. Anything within my power to give." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"But not my crown."

“Then there shall be naught left to ask, issa hūra (my moon).” She sent him a smile, albeit a woeful one.

Aemond opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be in vain. He was so close to her that he could feel her breath on his lips, the feeling slowly driving him mad. He had imagined Aelora’s face, her curves and her voice each night he had been forced to spend alone — and here she was, right before him, but he couldn’t have her. The thought of how this could be the last time he held her without being shoved away made him pull her to him, his arms wrapping around her like vines.

The princess found herself unable to resist as she pressed her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting presence in the silent cavern. She clung to him tightly, her fingers gripping his clothing like a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. For a moment, they stood there, holding each other without a word. The moons of distance melted away, replaced by a shared sense of desperate longing to be close again. Despite the comfort and familiarity of his embrace, she knew deep down that he would never surrender — his path set on the course of war and the bloodshed it entailed. The pain and loss they had faced would forever stand between them, but it did not matter tonight. Concealed by shadows inside the stone walls surrounding them, their grievances and broken oaths would dim at the radiance of their burning passion. For a brief moment, the pair would be one once more.

Aelora’s head parted from the warmth of his frame as her gaze followed the line of Aemond's jaw, her brown orbs traveling upward until they reached his mouth. A sharp breath hitched within her throat as she remembered the soft touch of his lips against hers, butterflies rattling in her stomach. In that moment, she was transported back to the blissful months of their marriage, when their intimacies were full of love and promise. The need to feel the familiar touch of his skin against hers consuming every inch of her being.

The prince’s mind and body were on fire. He could feel her gaze raking over him, like a caress to his spirit. The mere sight of his estranged wife in his arms making his heart pound wildly in his chest. His good eye watched her mouth as she swallowed, his one trackmindedness fixated on everything about her. He could see the memories, the same ones he saw every night, flashing through her gaze. His fingers reached up to brush a strand of her brown hair aside, her once perfect braid now half done as the long locks threaten to escape. His hand trembled with how badly he wanted to feel her body, to trace his hands over her curves and kiss her neck, as he had done countless times before.

Aelora's restraint snapped with a sharp tug as she pulled him down towards her, their lips finally meeting in a desperate, ardent kiss. A muffled gasp left her lips at the familiar touch, her body responding instinctively as she pressed herself against him, hungrily devouring his taste. The prince’s sense of control collapsed like a house of cards, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he held her close. He was a man starved, his palms roaming over her frame, as if trying to commit every curve to memory.

Aemond's hands began to roam under her cloak, his fingers tracing over the round hips hidden underneath. He could feel the heat of her desire through the thick fabric, his own body aching to devour her whole. The fingers on his left hand fiddled over the clasp of her mantle, yearning overcoming his senses as he tossed the fabric onto the delicate sand.

Before he was able to protest, Aelora broke their kiss. Her eyes glistened with arousal as she watched his lips, reddened and bruised from the hastiness of their embrace. Her nimble hands found the buckle of her leather doublet, shivering as the absence of the rougher material revealed her chemise underneath. The sheer linen did little to protect the princess’ frame from the cold breeze that made its way through the cave’s entrance, her nipples stiffening at the feeling. The young woman felt no grief for her modesty as Aemond’s eye watched her carefully, a glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She continued to undress, slender fingers slowly untying the laces on her breeches. Her boots met the rest of her dragonriding garments on the jagged rocks by the cavern’s wall, leaving the princess in only her smallclothes.

The silver prince was left breathless by her actions, completely entranced by the sight of her exposed chest, every contour of her body on display through the translucent fabric. His eye drank in the sight and he could feel his blood rushing to a southernmost point. He wanted to worship her, to kiss and nibble her skin — to make her cry out his name until the only thing she could remember was the feel of him against herself. At this moment, he was no longer Aemond Targaryen, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm; he was a dog at her heel, eager for her calling. His gaze never left hers, staring at her vulnerable state as he mirrored her actions. First he removed his baldric, steel clinking as his dagger and sword fell to the ground. Then, he slowly undid the various buckles on his black jerkin, his breeches following suit. He did not waver as her brown eyes found his stiffened manhood; for he hadn’t cared to remain in concealment as she did.

Aelora’s gaze followed her husband as he approached her again, his hands reaching out and his fingers gently sliding up her bare thigh. She felt him press further into her, his cock pushing itself snugly against her core. He leaned in until his mouth was just beside her ear, his breath warm against her neck as he bit the skin softly. There was no denying she was his, her soul forever branded by his sinful devotion; the princess would never trust a kinslayer twice over, but she couldn’t help but love him.

“Vestragon ao’re ñuhon. (Say you’re mine.)” His voice was barely a whisper but it was as much a command as a plead.

“Vestragon ao’re nykeēdrosa ñuhon, gīda sepār syt kiza bantis. (Say you’re still mine, even just for tonight)”.

“Nyke aōhon. Ēva tubis ōños. (I am yours. Until daylight)”. She answered, lips trembling as the words escaped her.

A primal possessiveness engulfed the one eyed prince, the part that had always longed for her roaring in victory. At that very moment, he felt that there was nothing in this world that he would not do for her. He took her mouth in another kiss, their tongues clashing in a more feral and desperate manner. Aemond lifted her, his calloused hands digging into her plump arse as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her fingers gripped at his silver locks, his sudden responde sending waves of languor across her limbs. He moved her onto the cloak that was on the ground, the velvety sand welcoming her weight over the fabric as he covered her body with his.

Aemond continued his path of kisses down her body, his hands wandering over her breasts and waist and his mouth leaving more marks in its path. He could feel Aelora shudder in anticipation, her hips arching against his as he moved closer to her core, the air heavy with the scent of her nectar. He halted, taking in the sight of her before him. It had been so long — too long — since he had laid eyes upon her like this, and he relished in the way she already looked completely wrecked by his touch alone. The prince finally reached his ultimate goal, his lips finding her mound as he licked a stripe across the sensitive flesh. He let out a low moan at the taste of her sweet ambrosia on his tongue, a loud whimper emanating from her lungs in response.

The young woman’s hair laid carelessly on the ground, grains of sand intertwining into the brown mess as she arched her back in pleasure. She cried out as he grabbed her thighs, spreading her further apart and burying his face between her legs, his tongue exploring her in ways she had missed for many moons. He could not get enough of her, his lips and tongue trailing silent prayers over her most sensitive spot as his name left her lips. She felt her walls clench as he barged inside her cunt with a long finger, adjusting to the once familiar feeling. Shivers ran down her spine in satisfaction as Aemond synchronized his movements, the overwhelming pleasure bringing stars to her eyes.

A lilac eye never left her face, watching every expression that played across her features. Her mouth parted in pleasure, each gasp and moan fueling the fire of the prince’s own arousal. He had longed to see her like this, writhing underneath him, his name on her lips and his touch on her skin. The memories of her had haunted him in his nights alone, but now, in this moment, he was finally able to worship her like the god given treasure that she was.

Aelora's cries grew more intense, her hips bucking against Aemond's skilled mouth as pleasure mounted within her. Her thighs trembled slightly, its muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that was quickly approaching. Each touch and movement only served to bring her closer to the precipice of pleasure.

A loud cry echoed through the cavern as she climaxed, her body shuddering and her fingers digging into the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor herself. As the waves of ecstasy washed over her, she felt as though she had been transported to another realm. The connection between them was somehow stronger than it had ever been before, their souls dancing to a passionate melody.

When Aelora finally gasped for air, the prince slowly moved up from her core, his body hovering over hers. He watched as she recovered from the rapture he had given her with a dark and vainglorious smirk. With his elbow holding himself over her, he pulled her leg to rest on his hip as his eye scanned her features. Her hand moved to cup his cheek, the tip of her finger caressing his reddened scar as she furrowed her brows.

“Nyke gaomagon regret ziry. Skoros nyke vestretan se mōrī jēda. (I do regret it. What I said the last time.)” She apologized, regret brimming in her brown orbs.

Aemond leaned into her touch, his good eye closing at the gentle touch of her hand against his skin, it felt nearly as soothing as a balm to his weary heart. The mention of the title she had bestowed upon him sent a chill through his spine, his monstrous behavior had earned the words even if they had maimed him. His face turned to press a soft kiss into her palm, before opening his eye to look at her again.

“It is of no importance.” His voice was rough and low as he spoke.

Aelora softly tugged at the straps of his eyepatch, earning a trembling exhale from him in response. The touch of her delicate fingers on his malady sent a wave of fear through his spirit. She removed piece of leather, revealing the puckered, scarred skin where his eye had once been. He found himself unable to look at her for a moment, the feeling of vulnerability consuming him in the dim light of the cave. The princess looked deeply into the sapphire gem in his socket, tenderness engulfing the kiss she placed upon it.

Aemond's touch was gentle as he took her lips in his, not waiting for her response as he gripped her hip and turned her on her stomach. His eye roamed over the expanse of her back, tracing his fingers over the smooth surface of her skin, leaving a trail of gentle caresses in its path. It was a stark contrast to the frenzied way he had touched her previously, this touch was far more tender, almost reverent in nature. His body pressed against hers as the length of his manhood rested on the small of her back, buring into her skin. He leaned down, his mouth finding her ear as he moved closer.

“Azantys ñuha sindigho, issa vēzos. (I have missed you desperately, my sun)”. His breath was warm against her skin as he whispered.

Aelora arched her back as she felt the tip of his cock breeching her dampened slit, her knees propping her hip upwards in search of contact. His arm reached under her, squeezing one of her peaks as he fully entered her. The pair let out breathless moans as Aemond moved against her, leaving no time for her adjustment. The sting of pain she felt had been nothing compared to the ecstasy of his length inside her, finding herself unable to focus on anything but the feeling of being around him.

The prince’s thrusts grew harder, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both frenzied and yet somehow controlled. Her moans and sighs filled the air, his own breaths coming quick and sharply as he took her with a wild abandon. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on the soft flesh as his hands buried into her hips.

“Avy jorrāelan. (I love you)” Aelora murmured between ragged moans, her hand reaching to grasp his hair.

His eye widened slightly at her words, a thrill rushing through him at having heard them coming from her lips once again. His lips found the base of her jawline, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. His cock kept reaching further into her cunt as their flesh moved together with a rhythmic thrust, like the rise and fall of waves on the shore.

“Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond mumbled repeatedly in between thrusts, his words a fierce declaration of their love. He continued moving inside her, his heart racing in his ribcage as his pleasure overcame physical bounds.

Every thing about this moment was singled out from any other they had shared. The grief, pain and betrayal that coursed through their marriage dissipated amongst the dragon fire that burned within the pair. It all faded away, and all that was left was this, the feel of her skin against his, the sound of his muffled whimpers in her ear, the desperate way he repeated her name over and over. This moment felt like the calm in the middle of a storm, a rustle of the ashes of their love.

Aemond could feel his peak building, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased the pleasure he sought. His breaths came out in ragged pants, mingling with the sounds of her gasps in the air as his length clashed inside her. Aelora sensed the twitching of his manhood, threatening to spill his release inside her walls. The mere thought tightened the knot that had formed in her belly, reaching the edge of her desire.

Aemond sent a few more thrusts into the brown haired woman underneath him before both found their release simultaneously, their movements slowing as they both rode out of the ecstatic trance that washed over them. The prince’s face was buried in Aelora’s neck, a guttural moan escaping him at the force of his own pleasure. Her body shivered at the feeling of his seed drowning her cunt, pearly tears streaming down her leg as she whimpered.

The lovers stayed silent in an adoring embrace after he disconnected their bodies, a wave of comfort washing over them. For a while they simply laid there, basking in the afterglow of their passion, their frames entwined in a tangle of limbs. It was a strange sort of peace, one that they both knew wouldn't last once the sun rose — but for the moment, they were content. The night stretched on, each hour passing in a blur of whispered words and slow hands. Aemond and Aelora clang to one another, as if they could melt into one if they only held tightly enough. The threat of daylight and the inevitable parting loomed over them like a dark cloud on the horizon, anguish settling inside their hearts.

As the hour of the nightingale approached over their secret sanctuary, the prince and princess began to break away from the blissful haven that enveloped them. There were no words to be spoken as they both dressed silently, the sound of rustling fabric and soft breaths filling the air between them. The weight of war and the knowledge that this moment was fleeting hung heavily in the air. Aemond felt a pang in his chest as he looked towards her, a mute wish in his heart that they could stay like this. To be locked in this moment forever, away from the world that demanded so much from them. But he knew that was not possible. Soon, they would have to return to their duties and obligations — this feeling would become nothing more than a memory.

As they stood before each other fully clothed, their eyes met in a bereaved gaze — sorrow for the love they shared engulfing them. Aelora stepped closer to him, holding his hand softly, almost in a cowardly manner. She had no words for the man who was her everything, the man who had her in every way possible, and she was ashamed of it. His free hand moved hesitantly to hold her cheek, his eye flickering over her face, taking in every feature. He wanted to burn the image of her into his mind, to remember every detail about her, down to the smallest freckle on her nose. His thumb traced her soft skin as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, as if to say “I will be with you forever”. Tears began to form at the corners of her brown orbs as she abandoned his touch. The sound of the rustling sand underneath her feet echoed through the cave as she reached its entrance, her form never escaping his stare.

She halted at the stone archway, her silhouette framed by the soft silver light of the moon. The night air was cool on her skin as she turned to look back at Aemond, the feel of their passion still lingering in the air. For a moment, they simply stood there, eyes meeting in the darkness. She ached to say something, to find the words to convey the maelstrom of emotions that raged within her. In the end, she simply smiled, bittersweet and knowing.

“Should we meet on the battlefield, I can’t hesitate.” Her voice came out a whisper.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you.” She repeated, to herself or to him — Aemond didn’t know.

The prince’s breath had grown a little shallow at her words, a frown forming on his face. The idea of their next encounter being on the battlefield, facing off against each other like enemies was a thought that pained him, even though he knew it was a possibility. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t hesitate either, that he would fight her with everything he had if they ever met in battle, but the words stuck in his throat. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.

Once again, she left him. Aemond would be a King without a Queen, half of his soul forsaken in his search for power. It had to be worth it.

Bur they wouldn’t meet again, not in the context of war or any other.

She would meet her demise alongside her brother in the Battle of The Gullet. Fighting hard like a Strong, dying besides her dragon like a Targaryen and laying to rest at sea like a Velaryon.

He would grow mad at her perishing, ire overcoming his every sense. And he would eventually be slayed by her stepfather at The Battle Above God’s Eye.

Their love was epic, a fierce tale of forbidden passion that would never be written about inside history books. The only legacy they would leave behind had been scribbled onto a stone wall years before.

A.T. & A.V.

---

Taglist: @onlyrealjoy @siriusblackssun @adombtch

#aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan nation

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kyupidos · 1 month

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08/16/24 — twisted wonderland <3

with each other — summary. ‘miscellaneous actions with diasomnia and octavinelle <3.’

characters ;; azul, floyd, malleus, lilia , tags ;; reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader may or may not be yuu ( up to the reader ), reader is implied a good cook in lilia’s part, romantic fluff

a/n ( do we fw the new format? hope we do!! been a while since i made a fanfic but that ends now heh!!

a. ashengrotto — fun aquarium date!!

— the octomer was thinking about possible additions to the lounge, so to help him out you figured a date at the aquarium would do good for possible ideas. his heart skipped a beat at the idea of going out with you, not to mention he was killing two birds with one stone. hence where you and azul were walking, looking around at all the marine life as he excitedly rambled on to you about how he could use this for the aquariums at the mostro lounge.

— honestly, you found it adorable when he was comfortable enough to pour his heart out to you like this, whether about his achievements, his ideas for the mostro lounge like right now, or what was especially common, his love for you. it took him a while to get comfortable around you, especially before you started dating since he wanted to be sure you reciprocated his feelings, but here you were together now, and you were more than happy that he was able to talk to freely to you like this.

— “honestly, the implementation of these new aquariums will definitely bring in some customers, no? it’ll provide a much more welcoming atmosphere-” finally azul turned to you during his rambling, before accidentally cutting himself off when he realized how intently you were listening to him, warmly smiling at him like he was the only thing that mattered to you despite the fact you stopped at this spot just a moment ago just to see the beautiful marine life you mentioned wanting to see in the first place when you suggested the outing, the fish swimming past you behind the glass.

— “hm? what’s wrong azul, something in your throat?” you teased gently, smiling as he coughed into his fist with his flustered expression. “no, nothing..” he knew full well you were listening to him already, after all you gave a little input with some “mhm”s here and there, but sometimes he forgot how passionate you really were towards him. not like he didn’t appreciate it—the fact you were listening so intently to everything he had to say made him warm inside.

— ..the way you smiled so softly at him still made him embarrassed, though..

f. leech — “sleepy head!!” ( him to you )

— ‘huh’, floyd thinks to himself every so often, ‘his little shrimpy really loves to get their rest!’. not that he disapproves, in fact he thinks it’s cute of you! funny at times, too; it wasn’t uncommon for you to take a nap where comfortable enough, usually right beside him. that was where he found the silliest irony. you’d think you would be highest alert around him at least, but you certainly were a brave little shrimp.

— he giggled to himself as he caught you leaning against him during history class, poking at your face to see if you’d wake up any time soon. he was in one of his particularly good moods right then, though it was more rare ( not as if it was impossible, though ) for him to be in a bad one whenever you’re beside him. and you were lucky he was, and that it was one of those days he was willing to participate in class and write down notes. actually, a part of it was probably because he wanted to flaunt that he did and then let you copy it when you were awake ( at least, not before teasing you a bit ).

— and then, the softest of times. it was a beautiful thursday, the warm comfortable kind that feels like having just taken a fresh shower and laying in bed with your blanket. that’s what it felt like to you at least, so right after history class, the final class period of that day, floyd invited you to hang out in the vip section of the mostro lounge. whether or not azul actually approved was always unknown to you when he did it, but you figured it didn’t matter anyway.

— at times like these, he encouraged you to ‘catch some z’s’. excitingly telling you about his day, knowing that despite the way you slowly lulled into your slumber with his voice you believed was so lovely, you were listening anyway until your eyes finally closed. a snort of amusement just barely registering, floyd swinging his feet under the table as he brought his hand up to pat your head. and soon it droops down along with the rest of his upper body, as he slowly falls asleep right beside you, sleeping against each other comfortably.

— ( at least until azul promptly and ( more respectfully on your end, at least ) kicks the two of you out for spending too much time in there ).

m. draconia — silly library date!!

— the moment you mentioned to him your interest in twisted wonderland’s history, whether you were skilled with it or not, malleus brightened up at the idea of rambling to you at least about the history of his land, briar valley. with his hand extended to yours as he linked your hands together to bring you to the library to discuss, you really didn’t have much room to refuse—well, not like you would have refused either way. he always seemed to know how find ways to hang out with you, that was for sure.

— it was rather early into the weekend, so thankfully for the both of you he had all the time in the world to infodump about all the history he knew. that combined with the ice cream and other snacks he knew you’d like that he brought along, it truly was the perfect way to wrap up a friday afternoon. just the two of you, eating food together and talking to your hearts content as the time passed by until you finally had to separate—the both of you had your own things to do after all, as disappointing as it was that you couldn’t be together for longer.

— you hung out like this often, actually, just enjoying the time you spent together, talking about all sorts of things such as your interests; for him, it would usually be about gargoyles. that was something that didn’t take you long to figure out, given that every now and then he would sneakily go a little off topic to also bring up the history of gargoyles as well.

— the thought made you happy, that he was able to talk about his interests so carefree now that the two of you were together. after all, you saw him as who he was, rather than by his title as one of the strongest mages, the prince of briar valley; that was just one of the many things he loved about you. that you saw him as someone equal to you despite all else. that’s probably why he had to trouble chatting your ear off about all the things he liked, knowing that you really were listening to everything he had to say, and knowing you would do the same. and of course, he would always listen to anything and everything you brought to the table.

l. vanrouge — cooking!! ( gone wrong )

— lilia had a,, reputation for his cooking skills, so when he specified that he merely wanted to watch a cooking show with you, you sighed a subtle breath of relief as he tilted his head curiously at the reason why your shoulders drooped in your relief. you waved it off though, not having the heart to insult his cooking skills even though between the two of you you were always the one cooking for him so as to make sure there weren’t any safety hazards ensuing in the kitchen. thankfully enough, he loved your food enough to be fine with you being the main one to feed him and the others whenever he invited to for lunch.

— “ah, wow!! the food they’re making looks delicious, don’t you think my love?” lilia looked at the television in awe, with good reason as you watched the cooking show go on as teams slowly got eliminated to decide the eventual winner. not to mention, the food being served looked mouth wateringly good, too. “definitely..i want to try eating that kind of food.”

— perhaps that was your first mistake, as you missed the encouraged look on his face, a mischievous glint in his eye at your claim while you complained about how the judges could pass off the food being presented to them, knowing you would definitely eat it in a heartbeat. so when he invited you to diasomnia the next day, you didn’t quite know what you were in for just yet until you entered the kitchen as he..haphazardly started cooking, and given what he seemed to be trying to cook, it was for you as well. ( ..perhaps that’s why you noticed silver, sebek, and malleus slowly backing away from the kitchen before you arrived. )

— the moment he turned to face you at the sound of your footsteps, you quickly came to terms with the fact there was no escape with the way he excitedly grinned at your presence. your fate was sealed as he came towards you, clasping your hands in his. “you’re finally here! you mentioned wanting to eat what those cooks were making yesterday, no? i wanted to make something for you!”

— ..as you sat next to him as he encouraged you to eat, you came to one conclusion as you stared at your plate nervously—you need to learn to avoid his cute pleading face.

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psychelis-new · 6 months

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pick a pile: "What type of karma/karmic cycle are you healing now"

[TW FILLED READING]

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read about what karmic cycle you are called to end in this moment and the triggers that may be related to it. it could be something from this life or a past life as well. piles seem to be interconnected somehow so if you're called by more than one pile, it's okay (but remember to focus on the word "now" when asking your question). reminder that I'm not a therapist of sort, so take everything with a grain of salt or just as an input to maybe navigate further within or contact a professional figure (if necessary according to you ofc). it's also a general reading so messages may not/all be for you.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life. readings do not substitute real life experience nor professionals/doctors advices.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1 (relationships/communication)

You are probably healing something related to your connections/relationships. It could be something you couldn't see properly in your past (or at least you couldn't see from a different perspective) but now you are starting to realize or will soon. Maybe it's an habit you picked up in your early life, like wearing a mask in fear of being judged or left alone, or people pleasing, or always being there for others but feeling like a burden when it was you the one supposed to receive as much (and therefore acting as an independent person who doesn't need anything and for whom everything is fine). Maybe you also *fear* misinterpret others' behaviours in your regards, or you may overthinking if they are somehow betraying you or something. Like treating you in a certain way but actually thinking differently of you? Maybe you fear being lied to, somehow. And not being really appreciated unless you overgive and try to not bother them with your "problems" (which are problems ofc, but you may try to keep them for yourself and deal with them alone or deem them as less important than others' problems and put them in a second position -as you put yourself on a second choice level compared to others). You may be thinking: if you give so much and don't ask for anything in return, how could they leave you? It could be a reasonable thought, but at the end of the day it's not... Relationships are far more complex than this, and also very different (so maybe not everything in this pile may resonate with you).

Ofc it's understandable where you come from: you probably had been dealing with lies/betrayals/abandonment of different kind in your life and now it's hard to both be yourself and also trust others. But the message you send when you're being too self-reliant/independent (a silent cry for help despite what you're showing) cannot often be heard by them. All they can read between the lines is: "I'm okay, I don't need you". And ofc, this doesn't make people interested in you, especially if it's an habit of yours to keep them out of your needs (and out of your life: people cannot read our minds, and they're not here for that. But those who care would like to experience the joy of helping us, if we let them in and told them about us and what we need. They'd love to help us as much as we love to help them. They'd love to feel as happy and warm inside as we feel after we help them. But maybe first we need to stop and think about who we really are and what we really need from others, and from ourselves too. And let ourselves be vulnerable, knowing we can survive anything and that often others' reaction to us are not related inherently to us: we're not responsible of what they do with our trust/words).

You're learning how to properly communicate your needs, your fears and your boundaries. How to let others see you for who you are without any fear of judgement. How to be able to properly receive all that you wish for in a relationship. In order to do this, you need to take a brave step and look at what is going on from another perspective, different from the one that is suggesting you you're simply not good enough to have good and fulfilling relationships; or that you're unlovable or that people leaves cause you're just supposed to be alone forever. Or that everyone hates you. That is not so. Don't trust your wounded ego in this, do not follow its pattern into the hole. Be stronger than those fears, and see yourself as the lovely, kind and sweet human being you are. The very deserving of love and acceptance human being you are. And start by loving and accepting who you really are. You're not too much to bear with (as I read not long ago: when you fear being too much asking for something, it's generally because you didn't get enough of that). Analyze your relationships from a more objective point of view: we tend to see the "guilt" in the others (we blame them for abandoning us/letting us down, feeling resentful for how they treat us but also powerless when confronting them) or in ourselves (we're not enough for them/we cannot be seen and this may makes us angry too), but in relationships the truth is often halfway. And lack of proper communication, respect and understanding is what ruins everything (together with possibly not-compatible issues/traumas: if someone cannot give you what you ask for it's okay, other people will be able to fulfill your needs. Do not stuck/fixate yourself to receive from one single person everything you need, stay open. And let yourself be seen first: do not always wait for others to be interested in you to start with; at times it's hard for people to climb our walls and they may renounce, so at least lower them a little here and there, as you feel comfortable to. For as much as it can be okay to generally not be the one always taking the initiative, it's good to occasionally do that and show interest in the other as well). Anyway, don't be too harsh on yourself: you always acted and act for your best, to save yourself from pain, and you couldn't see that you probably were helping this pain staying alive, unconsciously searching for confirmations of its existance and of your inhability to have good relationships (maybe you were searching for them in the wrong places?). Forgive yourself and others (especially those who gaslighted, diminished, silenced or *unconsciously* taught you that you're not worthy first), and let things change for your best. Let your people find you.

For a few: If by any chance, you're not hiding yourself but actually trying to stand out or show yourself at any given time, it's probably the other face of the same coin. You try to get the attention you couldn't get to receive and what you learned is that to get it, you need to stand out or call for others/interrupt them, make them notice you, show you're as worthy if not more by being more vocal, and feel better about yourself after succeeding. Many people may not appreciate this or believe you do it as a form of egoism, but it's generally not so. Try to balance and listen to others too, do not just let your fear of ending up being unseen take you over and eclipse others (Ik you can't always see that cause you're trying to fulfill your own need and therefore unconsciously closing off from others' ones, but it can happen). You'll be seen as much as you need anyway. Be patient. :)

song: through the dark | vanbur

[if you're called by pile 3 as well, feel free to take a look + if you have been seeing lot of 3s, it could be a confirmation for this pile n.1 being yours]

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pile 2 (control/abandonment issues)

Out of all the piles, I think yours is the one needing more work, and also more patience, time and reflection/introspection. Be kind with yourself and go slow.

You're probably closing (or need to close) a chapter in regards to your need to be in control of what is going on in your future/life. You're deeply scared of the unknown, of not being able to control what is happening and probably you also fear not being able to take your own decisions but having to conform or accept whatever is going on for you. And ofc this is scary because the moment something you don't want to will happen, you won't have any other choice but to lower your head and obey/go with it. It's like you're caged. The future and this *fake* lack of control are making you pretty anxious and in need of knowing every detail of your life before taking any action, to be sure it's all okay. Maybe you also fear not being able to really close with this chapter and being trapped in it forever? As said, not knowing how things may turn out, would be too "risky" for you. I feel like it's also too scary to receive some kind of "no", whatever it may be about. It would crash you (or you think it would, somehow... but why?).

You probably need to separate yourself from what is going on around you. Nobody has real control on what life offers to us and when/how, nor on others' feelings about us (which only depend on how those people see us from their personal pov and based on their own experience of life, on their background: they can only have opinions of us based also on what we allow them to see of us). But we have whole control on ourselves, on our emotions and on how we respond to life and other people' choices/thoughts about us (what we make them mean about us). And we have control on what we want to do, how, when, why and if we want to say "no" to something. We have free will (I understand in some cultures and maybe also families it's a bit more complicated than this, but maybe you can get to at least politely talk and show your pov instead of giving up since the first minute? Or find a compromise on something else. Idk... Maybe it won't go as bad as you think, especially if you also silenced yourself out of fear in the past. Maybe the no's we've got in the past were about a specific thing for a reason, and not about everything as we think). I guess many times you just accepted your fate/destiny in the form of a decision taken by someone else (an authority figure of any type, from a boss to a parent... even tarot/astrology readings -excessive/anxious consume-?), without ever contraddicting them, feeling you're the one that doesn't know anything, feeling not enough to/inferior. Accepting what they were telling you about who you are and who you are supposed to be and obeying, living up to that (in pain and resentful, but still...). Or maybe this is also a way to save yourself from failing? If it's someone else guiding your life or telling you what to do/who you are, you won't have to take the blame of being "wrong" or feel guilty for having taken a "bad" decision and being a bad person, maybe. While it's good to get guidance and opinions in proper/healthy ways, we cannot let others take decisions for us all the times. They cannot live our whole life for us: we are beings that are too complex to be reduced to what others just perceive of us or want us to be. I think you may be dealing with perfectionism and fear of failure too: maybe you learned you need to keep specific high standards (in what you say, think, do...) to feel worthy/loved/appreciated, and not living up to them may mean, somehow, that you lost your self worth or it changed (lowered).

But that's not true: your self worth is always the same since the day you came on this Earth and it's the same as the one of everyone else on this planet, even if you cannot see it because of how you were/are treated or treated yoursef. Or feel you were treated: as kids we don't understand the reasons behind adults' behaviours, and if they too are not so emotionally stable or able to verbally explain things, it may be difficult to understand what is going on since we are learning all that from them (= esp. the "authority figures" around us: caregivers/parents/teachers/relatives...). We may make their reaction to us not being "perfect" (= not acting as they would want us to) mean we're not enough, we're bad, not deserving enough, and that we need to perform better to receive something good/praise/love and to obey to them, because we cannot take decisions that are correct. We're a failure and cannot do anything right. And we may risk losing them or them may let us down/abandon us if we don't perform well.

I think you need to move into known water, to know everything is good and will be good, so that you know you won't fail? Or that you won't be considered as "bad", whatever that bad means to you (probably that you're not worthy of something, of others, of... Idk). Not knowing/not having the control means you won't be sure of how things will be and if you will be able to make it, to survive (yes you will), to be considered well and... not abandoned. But if you keep the control of what is going on and get confirmations that you're taking the right decision before taking it definitely, and that all will be fine, you can actually perform well and do things right and be sure of your success and nobody will see you as a loser and leave... right? Well yes, but no. Cause that's not something that you or anyone's actually able to do: we cannot control what's outside of us and know every little detail of it with absolute certainty... And those "authorities" may be wrong as well when taking decisions for you. You may be scared of being you cause you feel like you lack something (you are "unable to do things well", eg.) and people may end up leaving, while if you try to control everything (eg. plan what to say/do based on how others will respond/what they like and not on who you are and what you think for real) instead you'll know that all it's fine and safe and you're okay and they won't leave, and you'll be accepted and a good person. But again, we cannot control it all: many things are not depending on us in this life and probably.. it's about trying to deal with your guilt (an old wound too, again in regards of how you see yourself and think you are seen: "imperfect/flawed", bad) and letting yourself just be you. We're all imperfect and flawed, occasionally bad; we need to forgive ourselves and just be kind with ourselves cause we're trying our best anyway, especially when we're actually trying: it means we're allowing ourselves to take risks and live our life no matter how it will be, but we'll get to live it fully at least. And to decide for our own self. To see what can happen good, to trust that the unknown doesn't have to be bad, nor us, even if we're not "perfect" (remind yourself that perfection is not an absolute dogma, everyone of us has their own definition of perfection, and society has its own as well that btw keeps on changing whether it's physical or about life goals. Someone not liking you doesn't mean nobody likes you). Take control of your fears, talk with them, acknowledge them and love them. Be there for them and yourself: you can do this.

song: just one day | deproducers

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pile 3 (self neglect/emotional avoidance)

You're generally healing a cycle of self neglect. You either dismissed or deemed your experience as less important or worthy, you probably use/d to compare with others a lot and see them as better than you too. Or more deserving. I think you may have disconnected from yourself in order to follow and help others, or out of a huge traumatic experience (nothing strange here: it's a common self defense mechanism). You probably felt responsible for others cause that's what you learned is your duty here (also to survive/save yourself in some way: eg. you had to grow in an "unsafe" environment, so you tried to keep it as emotionally safe as you could by taking charge of making the mood/solving problems that weren't yours to solve, or something like that; you could have learned to read others' emotions by being hypervigilant of their moves/words so to predict their moods and save yourself), but it's not so.

You're trying or are called to come back to yourself. To get back in touch with your core. To do this, it's important to take time for yourself, and do some self reflection (journaling could be a way too: you don't have to write things chronologically or that are reasonable, just let your thoughts/emotions flow). Reconnect with your body too through healing movements (yoga, walking, exercising... as you wish) or simply taking good care of it by giving it rest and the correct supplements it needs. Realize your worth and that you're deserving of receiving and give to yourself, especially time (you have lot!). It's important that you reconnect with yourself also cause that way you can reconnect with your intuition as well and trust yourself again. You may have stopped trusting signs or downloads or even your own feelings or gut instincts, deeming them (and yourself) as wrong, incorrect, likely to fail. But that's just probably a fear of yours: an insecurity that originates from having judged your mistakes too harshly (maybe after having being criticized the same way a lot, or having been caused to feel guilty for unimportant stuff, even unwillingly -cause of other people's issues: especially if you were surrounded by people self criticizing a lot or self talking negatively, you may have picked up this same habit too. But what if instead of "stupid/ignorant" you're just distracted or tired/stressed and therefore you made a mistake, that is very likely solvable too?). On a side note, self trust doesn't mean you feel sure and okay when taking an action. You may still have doubts or not like what you may need to do. We're still humans, and we can trust ourselves and still be scared of being wrong. But our intuition will always tell us if what we're doing is the right thing to do, no matter how it will turn out (intuition may not always be right especially if we're not grounded and also if->).

Your inner critic/wounded ego may be a bit too strict when it comes to you, pretending perfection in you in particular but also around you. Being ready to always point out every little flaw or incongruence that you may see. It may really shut your intuition as well. All this acts as a self defense mechanism: getting what you wish and having your intuition actually pointing you towards that result could be scary, so you tend to find flaws or imperfections in it to keep yourself away from that and safe in a known situation (even if it's not what you want). But we can only end up ruin intuition when trying to look at it through reason/thoughts. You may need a lot of constant reassurance, cause you may tend to overthink a lot and get any little negative sign as the confirmation things aren't going well (at times you may also be so focused on needing a specific answer that you may shut other possible ones out of you: try to stay grounded and open before asking for confirmations or such, especially from your Guides). You may also tend to project your fears and perceived imperfections on others: as Carl Gustav Jung said, we tend to project and judge others first to defend ourselves from their judgement, but it's actually ourselves that we're judging. Not them.

It's okay to put yourself first: as long as you are not trying to impose yourself on/take advantage of others, you're just putting yourself on their same level. And showing yourself you're deserving of as much. And you do. You don't have to always help others reach their goals by giving up on yours, or letting them having what you want: you're too kind for this world, but this world won't give you a prize for doing this. It will just give you nothing (and this also if you're doing it out of fear of actually getting what you want, not just cause you think others are better than you or you better play it safe to feel included/not be let down). So, fight for what you want. Acknowledge your wishes, emotions, desires... yourself. Show how much you care about yourself and stop comparing with others: there will always be someone better than you but not in everything. They may be better at something, but not at everything (put things into perspective). And even if they were better at everything, according to you, are you sure that your definition of better is the same as the rest of the world's one? Or is it personal of your life/you being harsh on you? And what if you can reach their level too instead of feeling inferior them? Or what if you're already there but just cannot see it?... What if you're just different and nobody is worse or better, actually? What if your different is what's is best for someone else, and for you too? It may feel scary, but try to be more balanced when it comes to see your worth and what you can do, who you are. When it comes to trust yourself. There's so much you can have, and already have, don't close your eyes to it our of fear. At times we need to do the scary thing: take ourselves by the hand and move in unknown waters. And it doesn't have to be as unsafe as it seems. Master your ability and knowledge, learn from your emotions instead of shutting them down out of fear of knowing them and their reasons (you may fear finding some hurtful truth in the process: if so, and if it feels too much, ask for help or guidance to someone you trust or a professional figure): they don't want to hurt you, they want to teach you and help you work on what you need in order to get what you deserve and want. Listen to yourself, come back to you.

For a few: Again, don't let your wounds/fears disconnect you from your intuition or make you misunderstand a need of yours with an intuitive hint. At times we may misinterpret signs/symbols because we really need a specific answer/confirmation emotionally/to feel better (especially in hard times). And having any little confirmation (or what we think it's so) can cause us to focus on something generally comforting/entertaining as a way to distract ourselves from the real problem/issue. Focusing on that problem could be too scary/overwhelming so we try to attach ourselves/fixate on other things/ideas/emotions to avoid dealing with the "real" ones. But we may not realize it. And for as comforting as it may look on the surface, it could really be something not good for us, as it may also lead to delusion (related to that specific thing/idea: be mindful, great things will come for you anyway and that's out of question. It's not an absolute no, but a call to see yourself and heal first). Therefore yes, try to focus and know your emotions first after having neglected yourself (and having been neglected) so much. Take good care of you.

song: under the bridge | all saints

[if you're called by pile 1 as well, feel free to take a look]

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pile 4 (discomfort/changing)

You're probably dealing or learning to deal with discomfort in your life. I think maybe you don't feel like you belong with the environment you are in (it may also be about who you are, not just where), and you may feel isolated. Or probably it's a bunch of different reasons, like a huge tower moment you're going through where it seems everything is against you and you cannot find a way out. It's a sad/lonely period, negative period in general and it may be more or less long. Pretty umcomfortable time in general. You're healing and losing sight of what else is going on. You're called to take a look within, into your heart, and like try to bring it back to life (esepcially if you feel "numb" somehow or lost) to realize it can beat again and you have power against all the darkness and negativity around and inside of you. You can still fight for yourself and win. Darkness is also there, the moment we learn how to watch it, to make the light shine brighter. To help us find happiness and peace too. To enjoy the process of change, and that change can actually be good despite the discomfort. And that healing is a part of our life, not all of it.

As humans, we tend to focus on what goes bad and notice all the other things that go as bad, even the smallest ones, losing sight of the little good that is around (as it kind of lose importance in our negative perspective: who cares if the sun is shining again and flowers are blossoming when there's this *negative thing* in my life?). Probably it's a matter of balancing better your thoughts, without letting them spiral and take you places you're not supposed to go (and won't even get to go: when we spiral, we may just end up creating fake thoughts in our mind out of fears and general negativity. This will keep the cycle alive and not let us get out of it but just kind of even attract more bad stuff into our life -or notice it more easily-. When we're more positive/happier, we shine, attract better things and are able to see also the good side and good events that do always happen in our life, despite everything else). When for example we don't get rid of the stress we may pick up in our daily life (even a slightly stressing situation may create an imbalance in our emotional and mental state if we don't get rid of the excess of energy it creates), when we're used to respond with fear/stress/anxiety to specific triggers even if we know we're safe, when we need for things to not change in order to feel safe, when we're tired, sleepy, cannot give our body the correct supplements it needs and feel depleted... we create the perfect inner environment for ourselves to start being overwhelmed and even spiralling or having panic attacks/burnouts at the smallest next stressing event. And the urgency we get to get out of that negativity asap, may just add more stress and pull us further down.

Do not let all these illusions to govern you, whether you create them in your mind, increasing your emotional instability when you start overtinking (even random unreal stuff that you have no proof may happen: our minds tend to fill up the void/the unknown/future with negative/fearful/fake thoughts so to block us in the same old cycle. They do this to keep us safe but we can show them that maybe they don't have to fear the unknown for they don't know how it will be for real) or you allow them to take space in your mind cause you "forget" to take care of you to give them attention. You are the one in control of your emotions and of your choices/priorities: most of the times anxiety originates from overthinking our insecurities and our "inability" (we feel the one always "wrong", lacking, failing... maybe also cause we don't trust our memory. But once you are grounded and trust yourself, your insecurity won't have much power anymore). You can take breaks and give yourself a time out before things get out of control. You can talk with your heart, with yourself, and your inner child too (probably the one who bears most of the stress and fear for various reasons -this may not be your only pile ig), and you can find space and time to disconnect from the stress you are experiencing. You can distract yourself by focusing on more comfortable things, using any of the various methods you can find online (focusing on naming things around you, on your breathing, on feeling your body and where you are/your senses...). You don't have to confront your fears immediately, and again you don't have to follow them. Or you can stop following them. It's not easy, especially at first, to recognize what is happening, so give yourself time and be patient. It's okay to shut those voices inside, and focus on something else, especially on you and what may be your needs at that time: prepare yourself for a bath or treat yourself something, anything that can relax you and nurture you; it's important to give yourself back, especially when you need breaks after working hard so that you realize you did well and can unwind from the stress of it. Especially, take naps if you can or need: I feel pretty drained suddenly. Try to not sleep deprive yourself (ofc overthinking/stressing can be very draining so it may be that that's also not allowing you to sleep/rest properly). If you're scared of sleeping because you may either lose time or have nightmares, remember you have time (plan it well: even a 5-10 minutes nap can work magic) and work on what these fears mean for you and how they originated: what are the nightmares about, what they want to show you about you? Ask for help if you need, also if you cannot deal with the negativity and all that is happening by yourself. For as long as it's good to distract yourself from triggers when you feel too overwhelmed, it's also good to try and check them more closely once you feel more calm/grounded, to see why they're there and what they want to show you about you, what you may still need to heal. What you may need to do to free yourself from this negative cage and see things from a more positive (or at least neutral) perspective. Yes, if you cannot change your mental pattern, work on finding similar sentences to those your mind is suggesting you that may have a more neutral meaning.

When things change, they change emotionally and energetically first (you can feel it in you, despite it not being so clear but just feeling unsettling), and that's what you may need to work on the most. Changing may feel scary and may bring you lot of negativity or mental/emotional traps or make you fall into a negative pattern about how it may be. It may re-open old wounds, even ones you didn't know existed in you. It may give you fallbacks about triggers/issues you thought you healed already (healing is not linear and these are perfectly fine: plus the closer we get to ending a cycle, the stronger they get). But with patience and time, self compassion and forgiveness, you can work through all of them and see them from another pov. You can use them at your advantage too. You can start seeing the good again. Take time to grieve what you're leaving behind, to give yourself proper closure, and move on. Stay balanced and present, enjoy also whatever else life is offering you at the moment, and do not discard anything out of fear of not being healed yet (being healed also means we do not react unheathily/anxiously to triggers anymore, not necessarily that we do not get triggered anymore; and we don't know what experiences we may need to make in order to "complete" our healing process or check it: trust your balanced self).

song: forward motion | daya

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card tarot #pick a picture #pick a card reading #pick a photo #divination #tw triggers #tw trauma #tarot readings #tarots #healing #intuitive readings #psychic readings #clairs readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #self help

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fairuzfan · 6 months

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shalom sister. i love your blog and your writing. reading your posts always fills me with fire, i can tell you have a good heart. donating to your campaign makes me feel so good because i trust you and truly you are doing gds work. anyway i wanted to ask you a question!

when i hear new things from gaza, stories of hamas doing X and IOF doing Y, i ask around and i’m not sure what parts of that story is true, if any. anyway idk what to believe all i know is that israel is committing acts of genocide and while the rest of the world is allowing this greatest evil, israel pretends that to be jewish is to be a colonizer. anyway some of my family are zionists, but i cannot sway them because they only know farsi persian and hebrew, aka only trust extremely biased sources.

anyway i am fluent in english farsi and hebrew but my arabic is trash ): so i feel like i can’t get the full picture from palestinians. all i can read are bonkers iranian papers and the disgusting zionist articles, it’s horrible because i know they’re both lying, just about different things. a palestinian opinion is the only opinion i care about right now! anyway it got me thinking. i just wanted to know if you have tips for verifying online research? or go-to non arabic websites? or even a translation app haha. i just want my family to see the truth!

shalom<3

shalom! thank you so much for reaching out, i really appreciate it.

personally, i use different sources for different material. i use middle east eye (specifically maha hussaini) and also mahmoud abusalama for videos of what it's like in the north. i use the electronic intifada interview podcasts to learn about specific things happening (i just finished watching this one about the collapse of healthcare in gaza). i would check out @northgazaupdates on here too. there's euromedmonitor as well.

and really, there are a lot of diaspora palestinians who are relaying what their family tells them, and they post on twitter a lot. someone i know does this is samah fadil. there's also @el-shab-hussein who translates things from Mona. here's mohammad smiry who is in gaza and tweets primarily in english. dr. mustafa elmasri also tweets in english too.

i would use al-jazeera, i have a fact checking guide here about any news source really. i don't use it as much but there's also the palestine chronicle. sometimes i use quds news network.

i really don't know much about hebrew media so i can't really tell you about sources i recommend there. i don't know if @bringmemyrocks or @rodeodeparis can perhaps provide some input?

i will say, if you're looking for hebrew palestinian media, i dont think there's too much because there's a ridiculous amount of censorship in '48 right now (honestly it's been going on for years atp) but what a lot of palestinians are doing is relying on internal networks. if you want, there are some israeli historians like Ilan Pappe and Avi Shlaim but I'm not sure if they write in hebrew. but they for sure write in english and provide a historical perspective from within israeli society itself.

this is what comes to mind rn honestly, but i haven't even touched on instagram because i haven't been on it in a while. i might add on later if i remember any really vital ones that i recommend.

#palestine

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strawberry-whorecake · 1 year

Text

Good Girl | K.R.

pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader

summary: Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did. So you found yourself sneaking around Starkiller Base for the satisfaction of your urges.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), PinV sex, praise

a/n: holy shit- can i just say thank you for all the interaction i’ve been getting on my fics-?? i’m genuinely floored, i was just writing and posting these for my own self-indulgence but it means literally so much that you guys have been enjoying them omg. since you enjoyed kylo so much last time heres a small lil smut in means of my appreciation <3

What the fuck were you doing?!

You rushed down the halls ducking around corners, peering for a sign of any wanderers on Starkiller Base. You were terrified of being caught, but your impulse to sneak out of your quarters and into the Commander’s came strong and suddenly.

Metallic footprints drew closer in front of you, eliciting a gasp from your throat which you quickly entrapped with the clasp of your hand as you ducked into an unseen corner. The footsteps neared– then faded, finally vanishing as you watched the Stormtrooper disappear from sight.

That was fucking close… so why were you doing this again?

Your urges got the best of you, and now you were creeping around the base because it was well into the late hours of the night– or arguably the early hours of the morning, and Kylo had something you needed… just like he always did.

You waited around the corner for another couple seconds to make sure no one else would come around, and to your relief the halls were void, so you continued on your journey to the Commander’s chambers.

As you walked you scrutinized yourself, questioning how you’d fallen into the face of this predicament in the first place. You were a meer engineer, assigned to working on ships that flew in and out of the base.

You recalled your first meeting with Kylo Ren, and how he immediately captivated and terrified you– and he of course knew, and played into. Somehow this thing had bloomed between you two, and you weren’t particularly interested in snuffing out its flame any time soon.

After a while of stalking around with your guard up to not be caught, you reached his door.

Glancing over your shoulders for any wanderers, you cursed yourself– no one was permitted in Kylo’s quarters without his direct permission, of course the halls would be void.

You shook your head and quickly inputted the code to his lock system, listening to the metal doors reluctantly squeal open only seconds later.

Dipping inside you peered around, his neat and orderly chambers were dark, and your eyes found his bed– found him, sleeping on one side.

You watched the doors close behind you as you slipped off your shoes, leaving them in the doorway. Slowly you crept through his room, approaching his bed. As you drew nearer you pulled your top over your head before crawling in next to him.

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Kylo was unpredictable– you had no way of knowing if he would be pleased with your appearance, or if he’d Force-throw you out of his chambers. Sure, he’d granted you permission to his quarters, under the premise he was in them, but how would he react to you waking him up?

Swallowing down your nerves, you gently caressed his cheek with your finger, which made him inhale deeply and stir despite still being asleep.

Taking hold of his cheek you led his lips to yours, kissing him. When his lips met your own his eyes fluttered open slowly. At first his kiss was confused but it rather quickly grew hot and rough.

Without tearing your mouth from his you gently pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. He pulled away only for a moment, just to take you in– and he smirked before pulling your face into his and kissing you hungrily.

His tongue twisted fervidly with yours, hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and soft sounds of already growing pleasure leaked from your lips. When he pulled back again, his plush pink lips glistened with the mix of your saliva.

“I missed this.” he growled and warmth developed as you felt him grow hard beneath you.

His kisses trailed from your lips down your jawline before they landed on your neck, sucking and nibbling at your skin.

A moan escaped from your throat despite trying to suppress it by clenching your teeth to your lip. You pulled away from him and lowered yourself to his abdomen, kissing his exposed stomach and upper pelvis.

Your eyes looked up pleadingly as you pulled down his boxers, and he only hummed in response.

You licked your lips, building up wetness in your mouth as you took him in your hand, gently placing a kiss to his tip.

Despite barely touching him, you knew how much he missed you by the bead of precum already dripping from him.

Running your tongue along his base, you then placed him in your mouth, drawing in your cheeks and sucking at his length until you pulled a groan from his throat.

He instinctively grabbed the back of your head, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and making you gag lightly on his cock.

You looked up, watching as he smirked. “Good girl.” he cooed.

You caressed his skin as you swallowed him. “Fuck…” he let his dark waves crash against his pillow as he threw his head back. His brow furrowed lightly as his eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands still gripped your head while the other folded behind his own head.

He looked incredible like this, the blinking stars gently illuminating him in a soft glow from the window positioned behind his bed. The muscles in his arms rippling as he let himself enjoy what you had to offer him, the sight of him quickly reminded you of why you risked coming to his quarters in the first place.

His pleasure made you eager to keep going, and the arousal flooding between your own legs was increasingly difficult to ignore. You couldn’t wait any longer to have him as you slipped off of him and stripped yourself of the rest of your clothing, leaving yourself bare for him.

You ignored the warmth that flooded to your cheeks as he looked you over, his stature relaxed with his arm still casually placed behind his head.

You pulled at his boxers, removing them from his legs before disregarding them to the floor with your clothes. Crawling back on top of him you took him once more in your hand as you led him inside you.

Although this was farthest from your first time with Kylo, you would never be prepared for his size.

Your mouth gaped as he entered you, squirming atop him as you worked to adjust to his size as he split you to the seam. He only chuckled as he watched you, but after a few moments you began riding him, dragging your hips against his.

He moaned as you lowered yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper into you. His arms wrapped around your frame and flipped you onto your back.

He leveled himself up by placing one hand on the bed beside your head as the other gripped harshly at your throat. A soft gasp managed to escape from your slack lips and he loosened his grip– just slightly.

His own impatience took over as he pushed into you, not holding back. You whimpered at the sudden force and reached up for his arm clamped around your neck for something to hold onto.

He smirked, shaking your hands off of him as he quickly caught them with both of his own and pinned them above your head before kissing you deeply and with need.

He withdrew himself only to thrust back in, creating a pattern as he did so. His pace quickened as he swapped your pinned wrists to one hand, letting his now free hand find your chest, kneading and toying with your breasts. His thumb flicked at your bud making you mewl out again.

You wiggled out of his grip, which he let you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to you.

He pounded into you faster, then slower, then harder– all rather quickly. His cock stroked your walls, cockhead prodding against that sweet spot that made your stomach churn in the best possible way.

“Fuck... Ah- Kylo-” you groaned as you felt him pummeling against your core, tangling your legs around his waist. Your moans only continued to please him, proud of himself at how easily he could make you moan for him. He seized a handful of your hair into his fist and tugged slightly.

Wrapping your arms around his broad back you pulled him deeper into you, and he didn’t hold back. He rocked his body back and forth with yours, you both synced in sin.

The only sounds that filled the room were Kylo’s stuttered breaths, your moans, and the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin.

He grabbed for your throat and pulled you into a steamy kiss, his tongue pushing past your teeth before dancing with yours.

With every thrust inside you, you could feel yourself growing tighter as your walls clenched together, holding back euphoria. “Sh-shit- Kylo…” you mewled rather pathetically.

In a hushed tone he growled, “Beg.”

He fucked deeper into you than you thought was possible by now. “Kylo please I-” your words were cut off by a moan that was pulled from your throat at a particularly hasty thrust. You didn’t know how much longer you could take.

“I said beg, slut.” he growled again.

He could feel you drawing you in, your walls growing claustrophobic around him, and he knew you were close, so he kept going.

Quickening his pace, he placed your chin in his hand making you look at him while you pleaded.

He glared into your eyes, then let his gaze drift to your perfectly parted lips as he mouthed the word “Beg” once more.

Giving out you finally cried, “Please! Let me cum, Kylo-!” your mouth gaped, words straining out. Your eyes were barely open but remained locked on his.

Kylo let his tongue dart past his own slightly parted lips, wetting them as he stared down at you, desperate and begging.

He knew you didn’t have long before you had reached your limit, whether he wanted to deprive you of that or not, so he let you have it.

“Good girl.” He hunched over so his lips just barely touched your ear as he whispered, “Now cum for me.”

He himself didn’t have much longer with the way your velveteen walls stroked him with every buck of his hips. His pace was frantic as he slammed into you, watching the way your brows knit and you panted and moaned past your lips.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving bites and kisses as he made his way to your collarbone– the cherry on top. You clung to him as you tightened around him, reaching your high in a pathetic array of moans.

Your vision faded out and shockwaves of electricity bolted through your nerves as you came around him, your walls milking him deliciously. He let out a groan of his own as his head lolled forward and he gripped your hips, pulling you down onto his cock.

With a final groan you felt your cunt flood with warmth as he came inside you, still driving his hips into yours.

His movements slowed, then stilled, and he pulled out of you with a grunt before laying down beside you. He pulled you close and coddled you through your finish. Your knees were lightly trembling which brought a smile to his face.

You buried your face into his chest as he let his fingers caress your skin before planting a kiss on your forehead, making your heart thump against your ribcage.

“Such a good girl.” he purred before placing a gentle kiss on your lips, “My good girl.”

Your face grew hot. The tone of his voice and his words alone made your heart skip a beat.

You were Commander Ren’s good girl.

#adam driver #adcu #adcu smut #adcu x reader #smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #star wars smut #kylo ren x you #kylo ren #whorecake fics

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accio-victuuri · 22 days

Text

August CPNs round-up ❤️💛💚

it’s bobo’s birth month! let’s start with this chaotic behind the scenes video 🫶🏼

• the letters yb was flashed in xzs vlog

• two people spotted in xz’s mountain drawing

• a hongkong politician posts about xz and wyb being good celebrities that will help promote HK

• 8/5 yibo’s day clowning part one part two - this year was too loud! the bday photo alone is enough to szd. 😂😂😂😂 part 2.5 part 3

• yibo and xz related hot search for bobo’s bday

THEIR VCRs for Han Hong’s foundation, a charity organization they both are a part of. We love them generous Kings!

• in the xinxiangyin live, we see an activity that they filled with things xz likes and will have something to talk about. you will notice a couple are the same as yibo’s. hotpot ( which i must admit is more general ), photography, fitness, tennis and films.

you can say that these are not unique interests, but when you put them together and another person has the same one seem sus. this is something i always say, even if you don’t believe that they are in a romantic relationship — these clues show that they have maintained that connection. no matter how many people cry about the “copying” agenda, we can’t deny that the coincidences are too much. this is why they get along, they can adapt each other’s interest. they have the same values. they are out here ticking all the boxes for a fruitful relationship <3

• the similarity 👀👀👀 right is xz in ELLE’s feature video for XZ.

• QUATRE BLUE 💙💙💙

oooohhhh i love jewelry. tho i’m kinda on the fence about this cause boucheron is a brand that xz is promoting and it makes sense that it will be used for a magazine. he is endorsing this line of rings but has never used this blue which just happened to be something wyb before. i understand why people are going 👀 because the photos were released days after Bobo’s bday.

• XZ’s Elle September issue feature clowning

• 8/10 yibo-official bts video clue

• yibo’s montbell shirt

• bobo shows some bxg bias @ pechoin live

• in the LINSY product launch conference, they were talking about a sofa and it had a special feature thing where you can put stuff in it & wyb mentions you can put chips. lol. that was so fast. he is not someone who likes chips, but we know one who does! i’d like to think that it’s a subconscious answer. he just thought of an important person in his life. 🫶🏼

• matching high school students hair 😂😂😂

• ANTA 🤝 LI NING

• their airport fashion looking so identical 👀 we could argue all day about how this is not unique and just about anyone can do this combo.. but does anyone else do this? no. it’s always these two. it’s harder to tell them apart when they are like this, which we guess is helping them when they visit each other on set.

the two of them doing couple wear!

• bottled joy x tsingtao collab 🍻

• xz’s heurueh boyfriend t shirt

• mengniu fan benefit featuring the boys

• handprints next to each other in the Qixi Wall

• this gif is gold!!!! pleaseeee!!!!! 😂😂😂😂 and it even went on hot search!

• analysis and details of wyb’s new song = somebody else’s arms

• wyb’s post YH concert weibo update 🟡🟡🟡

• i talked briefly about the cpf support during the concert and i have nothing more to add. i’m sure i can make another post that “shows” how wyb appreciated the cpfs indirectly during the concert but i won’t. there is no need for proofs of any kind — we know the truth. 😌😌😌 tho i will never be pro violence or insulting and being very mean to people in person just to prove a point. there’s a whole nasty situation that happened post concert which i have no energy for and i do not condone btw.

• their weibo 15th bday post 🌙

• the final episodes of exploring the unknown is on oct 5-6 because tencent has released the watching schedule. yes, wyb probably had a lot more input in this project but he was probably not alone in deciding when this would premiere and how the episodes are gonna line up. but i’m still happy with this coincidence. ✌🏼

what we wanna know tho is what will be the episode on 10/5 cause if it’s him in the desert i will — 🤯! cause his photo there was the one he used for his bday, which is eerily similar to GG’s from last year. so yeah. we will see!

-END.

<<< previous posts

See you all next month!!!!! 💛💛💛

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #i am releasing this now before i get busy lol

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peanutbubba · 29 days

Note

This one might make me a freak but "I'm cringe but I AM FREE" is like my slogan at this point so popping off I will be again.

I am half awake

Younger Law, 20-22, finally loosing his virginity after trying since he turned 17. He'd gotten close with plenty of people before, it's just that he'd either get cold feet and leave his partner confused and with a leaf in their bed or he his expectations weren't met so he pushed them away. Personally I don't label Law's sexuality, don't care much for labeling sexuality in my headcanons much, so he has tried attempted with both sexs but because I want to (I don't think I could type what I wanna so I'll let you figure out what I was gonna say) I'm thinking of a scenario where he looses his virginity to a dude, maybe just amab, I feel like virgin Law would be scared of a strap.

Guy's probably older by maybe 3 years, and it makes a difference, first person to get Law to calm down enough to not instantly ghost them once more than a shirt comes off, first person to make Law want to be heard by the neighbors, first person to fuck Law so sweet and good he almost considers offering them a place on his crew cause god all mighty the dick is that persuasive. Also, as a treat, they switch at some point or a few, still a lot of his partner talking Law through it and giving him special attention for doing so good at fucking them. I feel like Law is a default soft top/sub top, he can lay pipe when asked but bro just wanna be praised for doing a good job fr. Jesus christ if you've seen some of the other shit I say in people inboxes I love the aftercare scene like the most. Law is doing nothing after he cums!! Doesn't matter, carry him or push him off if you must but he is not participating in the movement of his body unless you're injured. Image you get done plowing Trafalgar D. Water Law and he pouts when you expect him to help clean up or he lies on you chest (BOOBY ENJOYER LAW TRUTHERS RISE) after plowing you and is pouting when you mention you guys need to get up.

This is not nearly as freaky as I had first thought it to be. Another day then I will bring you something that make Deadpool and Wolverine fans blush.

- ✨️💀✨️

Virgin Law being afraid of a strap is the funniest thing to me, like I can just imagine him making that face he usually does when he’s in complete shock, except now it’s also mixed with a touch of terrified because this colorful piece of silicone is threatening to destroy his hole. It also probably freaks him out that it isn’t real.

Anyways, as for my input, imagine marine hunter, or solo pirate reader actually being the one that helps him get over his fear. He already doesn’t have a good rep with either, but you’re able to smooth talk him enough to get him in a hotel room with you (bonus points if reader has an accent, or is just really fucking good with their words.), only to see how tense and awkward this man is.

You spend like a good 10-15 minutes just calming him down and setting up some boundaries with him, and he’s surprised as fuck because A.) you’re this super dangerous person but you’re actually super sweet?? And B.) you’re one of the first people to take the time to check in constantly with him.

Except at some point it pisses him off how nice you are, you’re balls deep in him and have already checked in with him 3 fucking times! If you don’t just make him scream your god damn name!

And now the fun part is that because you’re a marine hunter/solo pirate you’re usually just wandering from island to island with your own agenda, sometimes you just stop by wherever the fuck Law is now because you’re both in this unlabeled relationship with each other.

Sometimes you get him coins, medical books, more coins, just any gift you’d think he’d appreciate because you like seeing that stupid grin he gets when something he likes is in his hands.

As a thanks he always takes you to his captain quarter, the next morning you’re stumbling out completely dazed and fumbling with your ship as you mumble sweet flustered goodbyes, mean while he looks perfectly fine like you two didn’t spend the entire day exerting yourselves in his bed.

It’s always something new with him too, for a once virgin he can get down and freaky!

But one particular day you guys decided to switch roles, instead he’s on top now and good golly is this man so gentle. It can’t even be considered fucking anymore, this man is practically making genuine love to you.

Not that you’re mad about it, especially when you spew whispered praises about how he’s doing so good, or how he’s filling you up so well, and you can see his skin prickling with goosebumps in a good way.

Whimpering as he melts under your soft words, the soft sex somehow becoming even softer?! It’s great.

And when both of you are satisfied and done he’s laying his head on top of your chest and just resting, burying himself as far as he can between your tits. If you even try to protest this 6 foot almost 200 pound man just gets grumpy, plus all it gets him to do is close his arms around your waist and pull you even closer to him, burrowing himself even further in your chest like he’s trying to fuse with you.

It’s kind of cute, but also nasty because you’re both so sweaty, plus your legs are dripping with drying lube and cum and you terribly badly want to shower.

The only way you’re getting him off of you is if you physically pull him off and carry him to the bathtub. Yes you have to fill it with water, yes you have to wash him, and yes he is once more all up on your fucking boobs again.

It doesn’t matter if you’re on his lap or he’s on yours, either way you’re dealing with this until you have to clean your chest, or his face.

Best believe afterwards all he’s doing is putting some boxers on, you have to change the bedsheets and after that his cozying himself all up on you, he is the little spoon no objections.

On a side note, this idea get even 10x funnier if instead reader is already apart of a crew. He knows that you’re loyal to your captain and all but like… c’mon, he’s so much better!

It’s even WORSE if your captain is Luffy or Kidd, this man is not accepting it. What do they have that he can’t literally do 100x better 😒.

Join him instead… pretty please… with a cherry on top??

—

I love this freak, please never stop talking about him with me 🙏.

Also as a Deadpool and Wolverine fan I take this as a challenge, hit me with the freakiest shot you got.

#one piece #anime #trafalgar law #trafalgar water d law #one peice x reader #law x male reader #one piece x male reader #law x reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #top male reader #top reader #top character #gn reader #bottom character #bottom reader #drabble #pea talks

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year

Text

Feels Just A Little Bit Better

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: being sad for unknown reasons, just feeling down, spencer being such a sweetheart to you <3

Request by @matthew-gray-gubler-lover: Hello i would like to request a story i have been having a really hard time lately a lot of crying and sadness, could i please have a story where spencer Reid sees how sad i have been and he helps me, fluff & smut please, thank you so much 💗

Summary: There are days when your depression and sadness hits you out of nowhere, and you can't go to work much less get out of bed. When Spencer sees you're not at work, he knows exactly why and decides to take care of you.

Square Filled: going into hiding for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Not everyone will have good days and it’s not expected for anyone to always have good days. There will be times when you get to work and have the energy to solve the case with enthusiasm and hope, and then there will be times when the only thing you have the energy for is to get out of bed.

But you don’t even have the energy for that right now. There is a weight weighing heavily on your chest that makes getting out of bed the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. This kind of sadness, this kind of weight sneaks up on you when you least expect it, not allowing you to get over it until a couple of days later. There is no way you can go to work like this so you grab your phone and send a message to Hotch.

So sorry but I don’t feel so good. I won’t be able to make it to work.

That’s fine. Stay home and get some rest.

The B Team is out right now so that lets your team catch up on paperwork and other things you’ve missed while being out. Hotch doesn’t mind if you sit this day out since it’s a break from the grueling work you see every day.

Spencer comes to work with two coffees in his hands, one for you and one for him. All he hears is how much you love the coffee from the local coffee shop and he has your order memorized like it’s his own. He doesn’t see you at your desk when he comes in so he sets your coffee down on your desk and waits for you. He waits ten minutes and gets concerned when he doesn’t see you. He leaves both coffees alone and heads to Hotch’s office.

“Hotch?” Spencer asks as he knocks on the open door.

“Come in.”

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She called in sick.”

Spencer knows you lied to Hotch. You’ve been feeling down this entire week when he noticed you not engaging in conversation with the rest of the team. You always have something to input so when you were silent, he knew something was wrong.

“Can I bring her some soup? I’ve already completed all my paperwork. You can call me if you need me here.”

“Yes, I know,” Hotch chuckles and pats the enormous pile of files on his desk. “That’s fine.”

“Thank you.”

Hotch has a lot of faith in his team so when they make requests like this, he’s encouraged to say yes. Plus, he knows if he calls Spencer, he would return immediately. Spencer packs his things and leaves without another word. You live fairly close to the BAU since you don’t like driving. It’s either a long walk or a short bus ride away, and you two would often ride the bus together.

Spencer is the only one who has a key to your apartment so he doesn’t bother knocking on the door.

“It’s me. I’m coming in,” Spencer announces. He walks to your room and sees you beneath the covers. The only part of you that is showing is your face and he can see the clear wetness of tears on your cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

All you can do is shrug. He leaves your room to gather supplies he knows won’t take your sadness away but will certainly help. It takes ten minutes for Spencer to grab what he needs and comes back with movies, some snacks, a book, and some water.

“What are you doing?” you mumble.

“Keeping you company,” he smiles.

“Go back to work, Spencer.”

“I already talked to Hotch about this. He’s cool.” Spencer gets into bed next to you and lays all the snacks out for you. You turn to face him with dried tears and wet eyelashes. “I know you’re not probably hungry but I brought these just in case. If you get bored with the movies, I have a book I can read to you.”

“What are you really doing here?”

“I know you’re sad. You don’t have to tell me why but I’m gonna keep you company until I know you’re gonna be okay.”

A new wave of tears wash over you from how nice he’s being. He wraps an arm around you, pulls you into his chest, and plays the movie. You can’t tell him why you’re sad because you don’t fully know yourself. The only thing you do know is that you feel ten times better in his arms, and for that, you smile.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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thelastofhyde · 10 months

Text

prologue. rome.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. like all epic love stories, this one starts with a meet-(un)cute. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, sunshine!reader, tour-guide!joel, age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. i’m pretty sure there’s no warnings this chapter. word count. 845. hyde’s input. & so it begins! my goal is to try post a chapter every other friday, but it may be weekly if i write + edit on time. likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 next chapter - series masterlist

Under the buzz of a dying light, you assess the damage.

Tousled hair, smudged mascara, bags under your eyes. Chapped lips, wrinkled clothing, a missing earring. Nail indentations, dry hands, a bruise on your knee.

You'd call yourself a mess, had you not been travelling at full-speed in the air, trapped inside an overgrown Pringles can that grew wings, for the past who-knows-how-many hours.

With a snoring seat-neighbour, a kid kicking at the back of you and the embarrassing sting of tears in your eyes, you'd not known peace until the plane had landed on solid ground. And, even then, the nightmare had picked right back up where it had left off, shapeshifting into a mile long customs queue and the overwhelming dread of watching the conveyor belt spin round and round with not a single sign of your suitcase.

It took a whole hour and speaking to an airport staff member later for them to find your case, right down the other end of the arrivals hall, sitting amongst luggage from a destination you'd certainly not arrived from.

But none of that matters, not now. At least you tell yourself that as you splash some cold water on your face. Looking back in the mirror, you try out a smile. It doesn't look genuine, but it's been a little harder to do recently, and so you give yourself credit for managing to at least have it meet your eyes.

There's a series of disgruntled, irritated faces that greet you as you exit the bathroom. You walk past them, head down, trying to count the beat in your footsteps and feel the roll of your suitcase's wheels.

Finding the signs that point to the arrival gate, you keep a low profile, as if anyone would know you here. Why would anybody know you here? Still, the need to stay hidden, out of sight, it intensifies, even as you take in the welcoming sign above sliding doors.

Buongiorno, benvenuto in Italia!

An overwhelming wave of loneliness hits you as you take your first step past the sliding doors, the usual hustle and bustle of an arrival's lounge greeting you. Couples embracing in reunion, families excitedly catching up on all that they've missed, strangers meeting for the first time, men in suits holding up signs with names and-

A different kind of wave hits you, physically, and suddenly you're on all fours, the sound of your knees smacking harshly into the marble floor taunting you with yet another bruise that'll be making a cameo in every picture you’ll take.

The world continues to pass you by, even as you juggle turmoil and pain. It’s a feat you’re trying to grow used to, but, for now, all you can manage is to not feel your stomach knot. You straighten your back, hands off the floor and your weight resting back against your knees. Pull a deep breath in, ignoring the tremble in your lower lip. In a moment of pure desperation, you wonder what more awaits you on this holiday from hell.

An awful flight, a lost-luggage scare, several bruises and now a public humiliation. What’s next?

You’re plucked up from where you sit, strong hands taking a gentle grip of your forearm. A simple tug and you obey the stranger’s signal, shifting to stand up straight. Turning on your heel to face your rescuer, you’re met with the back of a head, dark locks adorning it as the man reaches back down to grasp at your suitcase’s handle.

The man’s face is revealed slowly, undeliberately, as he rises to level once more, steadying your case back onto its wheels. Handsome, you notice the etching of laugh lines around his eyes and the peppering of patchy, yet fitting, facial hair along his jaw. A pair of headphones, big and chunky and sporting a wire, rest on the back of his neck and the strap of a backpack rests over his right shoulder.

You notice you’re staring a little too late, when there’s already a frown line splitting the skin of his forehead. Clear your throat, take back control of your suitcase and your senses.

Raised with manners, you rather clumsily thrust out your hand for the man to shake. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. So much. I'm-"

"You're in the way."

There’s no time to respond, not properly, as the man side-steps you with a grunt, his shoulder catching yours as he passes by. He doesn’t stop to apologise, simply readjusting the sliding strap of his bag and continuing his stride out into the sea of awaiting people.

Involuntarily, frozen where you stand, your eyes follow him as he comes to a stop in front of a uniformed man, a printed sign in his hand.

Signore Miller.

As you scan the crowd for your own name, spotting a casually dressed older gentleman carrying it upon scribbled cardboard, you repeat that name, over and over.

Miller, Miller, Miller.

Whoever the rude man may be, you pray for all those who cross his path on his trip.

#joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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tyuntopia · 1 year

Text

★ 11:53 pm

pairing : taehyun x reader

genre : established relationship, smut

warnings : fluff, pet names, sex, dirty talk, fingering, spanking, i might've forgot things but minors dni

word count : 1,467

summary : your boyfriend has been having a hard time lately with work and you thought that it’d be a good idea to surprise him with a good time

a/n : this is my first time writing smut, i hop you guys enjoyed it >.< also, please leave asks and i appreciate any input <3

you looked at yourself one more time in your full body mirror examining the tight pieces of fabric enclosing taehyun’s favorite parts of your body. the black lace barely covering your breast and womanhood, and see-through stockings covering your legs buckled in leather. ‘god i hope he likes it’ was all you could think about as you straightened out your hair, put on some red lipstick, and covered yourself with a silky black robe. you heard the front door close shut and made your way to your room-connected bathroom before taehyun came in. you heard the opening of the door and a sigh accompanied by the bouncing of a mattress. you assumed he had yet another hard day at work and questioned whether or not it’d be better to just change into pajamas and cuddle the rest of the night exchanging praises between the two of you, however, your thoughts were abruptly stopped as you heard taehyun calling you.

"strawberry are you here? where are you?" you took a deep breath knowing how much of a sweetheart your boyfriend is and how even if you were to become uncomfortable, being in his presence would make it better. so, you opened the door to the bathroom making your way out into the open area of your shared bedroom directly in front of taehyun. he was lying down on the bed, feet still on the floor, until you chirped out a small "hi" that brought him back up into a sitting position. you drop your robe sending it crashing onto the wooden floor at your feet. "strawber-" he couldn’t even finish calling your pet name as his lips parted and a gasp that could barely be heard was let out. you immediately noticed how his eyes darkened scanning your lingerie-clad figure and became nervous, fiddling with your fingers, biting your bottom lip, and squeezing your thighs together as he stood up, making his way to you.

of course he was taller than you so you lifted your head up to meet his eyes staring down at you. "do you like it?" you asked him, eyes sparkling in anticipation. god he thought you were the cutest. ‘i fucking love it sweetheart. is this all for me?’ he whispered into your ear before grabbing your tiny hand and twirling you in front of him. "maybe? i noticed you’ve been having a tough time and i just wanna enjoy some fun time with you." you answered trailing your hands from his wrists to his shoulders to the back of his neck massaging the base of his scalp. "yeah?" he asks, voice deep and husky. "yeah." you reply breathlessly. you both lean into a kiss that progressively is getting more aggressive as he grips your ass causing your mouth to jut open allowing his tongue to join yours. you whine into the kiss, a sound that goes straight to taehyun’s cock.

he stops the kiss and goes back to sitting on the edge of the bed patting his lap for you to sit on, "c’mere pretty girl." your thighs on his and your back against his chest, he pulls down your bra and grips your breasts whilst sucking purple bruises into your neck. you feel an ache between your legs and squeeze and rub them together trying to get any sort of friction. taehyun notices this and lets go of one of your breasts and instead brings his veiny ringed hand down to squeeze and grip your thigh. "open your legs for me sweetheart." he demands whispering into your ear. he proceeds to manspread grabbing both of your thighs and slotting them over his, giving an open view to your wet pussy dripping onto his grey slacks. 'can i touch you baby?" yes. please, you moan out dropping your head onto his shoulder. he pushes your panty to the side, takes two fingers, and dips them between your folds.

"fuck you’re so wet already baby, you’re dripping." you whine in response. he begins fingering you retrieving an encore of moans and whines from you. "you’re doing so good pretty girl, so good for me." he praises you, giving you another kiss on the side of your neck. you clench, your walls tightening capturing his fingers in all of your wetness. "tyun please i'm so close, don’t stop, don’t stop!" you whine out as you begin to buck into his hand, toes beginning to curl. he begins playing with your clit with his thumb as his other hand continues to grip onto your thigh feeling them continuously tense and intense under his hold. you feel a tight knot in your stomach ready to be released. "tyun i’m gonna- oh my god i'm gonna cum!" you scream out along with an endless trail of needy whines and moans of his name. he takes out his fingers and begins focusing on your clit simultaneously releasing your thigh and gripping your chin bringing the both of you into a messy kiss. "cum for me y/n. let go for me pretty girl." you come undone, shaking in his hold as he slows down his menstruations on your clit and softly kisses your neck, letting you ride out your high.

you both stay in that position for a while until you decide to get up. you stand between his legs looking into his eyes as his hands grip your waist and fiddle with the lace of your panties and the leather of the stocking buckles. "this night is about you." you say to him. "it’s about us." he says squeezing your waist. it’s then when you realize the hard tent beneath his trousers. "let me help you." you say as you drop to your knees gripping onto the inside of his thighs, moving them up towards the zipper of his pants. he grabs your tiny hands, his dark eyes looking directly into your wide ones. "you can help me by crawling onto the bed and laying on your stomach on all fours for me." he demands with a raise of his eyebrows. you feel yourself clench, a new wave of wetness exiting you, dripping down your thighs. god, you loved when he ordered you around.

in no time your face is against your pillow with your ass in the air ready to be stuffed full. you hear the drop of a belt as taehyun gets undressed and the next moment the sound of the drawer closing as he gets a condom. he climbs onto the bed with you rubbing his cock through your wet folds. "you ready princess?" he asks giving a light spank on your ass and a plethora of nods from you. "words sweetheart." he reminds you as he runs his hands over your curves relaxing you. "yes please tyun put it in." you whine out as he grips your hips and begins entering slowly. his groans accompany your whines before he bottoms out and begins rutting into you at a faster pace.

"fuck, you were made for me. so good baby, so fucking good" he chants as he repeatedly ruts into you. all you can do is grip the sheets harder and whine his name because at this point that's all you can remember. with another, harder, slap to your ass you're moaning incoherent sentences while he continues to set a faster pace. "so perfect for me, such a good girl" he praises as you begin sending your hips back to meet his. "tyun i'm so close, please tyun, oh my god."

"i know baby, i know." he groans out as he pulls you up with him so that you're both on your knees holding you by massaging your breasts. in the midst of your release he sucks on your neck, bringing one hand down to massage your clit, "cum for me baby, come on i know you can do it." and with his encouragement, the knot in your stomach is released. he fucks you through your orgasm, your head back in the sheets, and his hands gripping on your waist hard enough to leave fingerprints. with a few more thrusts and breathless moans of your name, he's releasing into the condom. he pulls out and walks to the bathroom, coming with a damp towel in hand. "you did so good for me sweetheart" he praises with a beaming smile on his face, giving you a peck on your forehead before cleaning the both of you up.

laying down, you draw circles into his chest as he sings to you, occasionally kissing you or giving pecks on your neck that make you a giggling mess. "i love you" he says with stars in those big eyes of his. you look up at him and smile bringing a hand up to his jaw, "i love you too."

#kang taehyun #taehyun #taehyun fluff #taehyun smut #taehyun x reader #txt x reader #txt #tomorrow x together #txt hard thoughts #txt imagines #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts

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tineteenieworld3 · 1 year

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My take, my take: I DON’T think Will, especially at this point in their relationship/friendship, would appreciate any outside input when it comes to Mike.

Let me explain. I see a lot of posts (and this is just my opinion it’s not a slap to anyone of course, I think it’s a mean thing to do in general but whatever) about Will gossiping or talking shit about Mike with El or with El and Max and I personally just don’t like that. If you do, absolutely nothing wrong with that, I respect that 100%

I mean, in my opinion, Mike deserves better than that. But #2, the relationship Will has with Mike is so vastly different than the one El has. When El gossips with Max about Mike, it displays immaturity to us. A good way of showing the middle school ish parts of it.

Anyway, I always babble, back to the point. I couldn’t ever see Will doing that. The thing I love about Mike and Will is that they are kind of private when it comes to the two of them, and they have this immense respect and love for one another.

In my opinion, Will would never ever open his mouth to gossip in any negative way, or maybe even at all, about Mike. Especially with El, the amount of disrespect in that is insane (again I know they aren’t real and it’s just for fun so absolutely zero hate whatsoever)

At most maybe he’d tease Mike with Lucas and Dustin, but that would probably be when Mike is there and involved, not behind his back.

Idk, I just think we’re shown such maturely, love, and respect when it comes to byler. These two boys are so selfless when it comes to one another, they’re best friends and actually just love eachother so much. Will wouldn’t, in my opinion, go around gossiping about him.

Will is gonna stand up for Mike in a way very few others would. He’s not, again my opinion, gonna go to Mike’s ex girlfriend and talk about him behind his back.

Mike and Will are so good because they don’t take outside influence or input, their relationship is only their own, and that’s what makes them so fantastic.

Anyway that’s just my confusing take cause I’m all over the place, but yeah. Will would ‘keep my wife’s name out your fucking mouth (in a politer way)’ to anyone. Maybe not season 3 Will tho, and to be fair that was Mike’s villain era.

#byler

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sbdskate · 1 year

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Laws of Attraction (Part 3) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, sexual themes, NSFW for a hot sec

Word Count: 2,604

A/N: It’s been a while! I’m sorry I’ve been MIA, work/life took over. Thank you everyone who read Parts 1 and 2, and thank you for your patience. I realize there is likely going to be a part 4, and given the ~significant~ break I apologize for the cliff hanger. Friendly reminder that this is still new to me, so I appreciate any and all feedback both positive and constructive. Enjoy!

You were thankful for the two-week break, again hoping the distance would subdue your growing crush. Much to your dismay, you had inceptioned yourself. The seed of physical attraction developed into more despite every attempt to nip it in the bud. To make matters worse, he texted you twice a day every day while you were away: one work related and one miscellaneous – a cute dog he saw cross the street, a yummy meal he had, a song he thought you might like, other general statements of opinion. Eventually the latter turned into plans for the U.S. grand prix. You didn’t quite understand his fascination with the whole cowboy americana aesthetic, perhaps because you grew up in the states so you were disillusioned to it. But it made him happy which you found endearing. He had asked for your input when he was undecided on which boots to get, and excitedly texted you pictures of an American flag bomber jacket and ostentatious belt buckles. You shot him with a few pleasant but short responses, whatever sparks joy or love that journey for you. Two days before press day though, you received a message that made you question your entire career path.

DR: Can I bring a horse to press day? You blinked a few times at your phone.

Y/N: To clarify, you want me to research FiA rules to see if you can bring a horse to the paddock and I will get paid for that time?

DR: Yes [insert horse emoji]

You swore this would be your last celebrity client. You couldn’t believe you went to law school for this.

Y/N: Yes, you can bring a horse. It just needs a badge pass like any other guest which you would need to submit 24 hrs in advance.

DR: What if you don’t know the horse’s name?

Y/N: Press day is in two days and you don’t actually have a horse?

This was by far the strangest client interaction you had ever had. First you were in disbelief from the initial question, and now here you were less than an hour later incredulous that your client didn’t actually have a horse lined up for his arrival to the circuit in forty-eight hours. Oh how the turn tables.

DR: Well I just thought of the idea, so no.

Y/N: It’s a horse, Daniel. I’m pretty sure you can just make up a name, it’s not like it’s going to perjure itself.

So when you got there for press day in your pink suit, prepared for meetings with other teams to discuss reserve seats, it took everything in your power to keep a straight face as Daniel strode in on Horsey McHorseface, with handler and country singer in tow. As a human being with a soul, it was objectively hilarious and you loved that he gave zero fucks, understanding that this very well may be his farewell tour. As his attorney though, you wished he had gone something for a little more subtle. He tipped his cowboy hat and winked as he passed you. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, but your body was on fire. The whole stunt was absurdly corny, it shouldn’t have done anything for you and yet you were undeniably turned on.

You went about your respective days, yours’ filled with back-to-back team meetings. You should have been laser focused, but you struggled to maintain your composure as you fought off visions of Daniel’s mustache adorned face between your legs. You reconnected at the end of the day so the two of you could debrief to discuss your findings. You kept your eyes on your notes in the hopes that avoiding his gaze would keep fantasies of you riding him like a show pony at bay. Flashbacks of the gentle roll of his hips on the horse threatened your demeanor, but you pushed through. Thankful to have made it through the exchange with your dignity mostly intact, you made your way towards the door when you thought the meeting had ended. However, you realized Daniel wasn’t moving.

You waited in the doorway, turning to face him. “Are you coming?”

He paused. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

You closed the door again, thinking he had more questions about Red Bull or Mercedes. “You can ask me anything. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath. “…Do you want to come to the race on Sunday?”

You chuckled, assuming he was simply nervous about the race. “You know I come to all your races, it’s good facetime with the other teams.” You gave him a reassuring smile. Could you sense nerves?

“I know! Which is great. But I meant… as a guest. I thought maybe you could leave the work at home for a day. Consider it a thank you for all your hard work.”

“Oh.” Your breath caught in your throat. Your mind went through every worst case scenario, trying to think of an out. You drew a blank.

“Oh what the heck. Twist my arm, I suppose I could swing it.” You did your best to suppress your eagerness, despite feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. He grinned, but not before your phone rang. “Ah shoot it’s Joe. I gotta go, but I’ll see you Sunday!”

You passed Lando on your way out who suggestively wriggled his eyebrows at you, seeing both you and Daniel with dumb smiles plastered on your faces. You jokingly flipped him off as you continued your conversation with your boss.

You decided to leave the suits at home since you technically weren’t in client meetings. The Texas heat was oppressive – you wanted to be comfortable but not scandalous. You didn’t think the denim short/cowboy boot combo would be appropriate, and it really wasn’t your thing anyways. Instead you settled on a flowy yellow midi sundress. You stared at your work tote longer than you should have. Rarely did you go anywhere without it, you were paid handsomely in part because you were available 24/7. Throwing caution to the wind, you grabbed a small crossbody bag instead.

You made your way over to Daniel when you arrived at the paddock. He looked concerned as his eyes traveled over the crowds.

“Everything ok?”

“Oh, I was just looking for my lawyer, not sure if you’ve seen her. She’s about yay-tall, wearing a stuffy suit.”

You wrinkled your nose at his jab at your casual outfit, you lightly shoved him. “Very funny. I know it’s shocking but I do own and wear other clothes when I’m not working.”

“I wasn’t aware you didn’t work,” he jested.

“If we’re being technical about it…I can still get emails on my phone.”

In the midst of a comfortable chuckle, his hand found its way to the small of your back as he walked you to where you would be watching the race. You felt electricity course through you at the soft touch. You debated on whether to remove it, but decided it was an innocent enough gesture.

You both stopped when you got to Lando and his girlfriend. Realizing who you would be enjoying the day with, the optics of all of this began to dawn on you. It was too late to back out now.

“Well, this is where I leave you. You two behave yourselves.”

“No promises!” Luisinha called after the boys. You gave Daniel a small smile and wave as they walked away, your confidence shrinking. Luisinha, a literal model, was even more stunning in person. Internalized insecurities you thought you moved past long ago made themselves comfortable in your mind. You were proud of the person you had grown into, inside and out. You were all about women supporting women and you knew you shouldn’t compare yourself to her, nor did you have any reason to. All the same, you felt small and insignificant next to her. It also made you realize even if you were not his lawyer, there was no way in a million years you had a shot with The Daniel Riccardo, charming world renown Formula 1 driver who had his choice of any woman on the planet.

It was a humbling realization, which ultimately boded well for you. In setting your delusions aside, you resolved to have a lovely day of racing with hopefully a new friend and nothing more. You felt a calm rush over you and relished in the freedom that came without the weight of expectations.

You turned to Luisinha with a warm grin. “Hi, I’m y/n.”

Unfortunately, the good company did not translate to a good race. You were happy for Lando who placed a strong 6th, but with all the hype leading up to it, Daniel had only finished 16th. You heart broke for him as you waited by while he gave his post race interviews, his signature smile notably absent. He excused himself after the last interview, and you silently followed him. When you caught up, you found him sitting on the floor in quiet corridor, his back against the wall and his head in his hands. Saying nothing, you sat down next to him. The two of you remained like that for a while, a quiet understanding silently exchanged.

Eventually you check the time. The beginning of the weekend had held the promise of potential, with big plans to hit the town to match. But in a death by a thousand cuts, today’s race delt a final blow to the driver’s confidence. You were sure at this point a party of any kind was the last thing Daniel wanted. You cautiously broke the silence.

“I’m sorry about the race. We don’t have to do anything you’re not up for.”

He briefly hesitated, but weakly smiled for the first time since that morning. “Are you joking? I’m not passing up a chance to go out in my favorite city. I can rally, promise.”

You gave him a knowing glance, understanding he was putting on a brave face. What for, you couldn’t tell.

“Well, you have six hours left of work-free y/n. I’m at your disposal.”

“What happens in six hours?”

“I turn into a pumpkin,” you quipped. You bumped shoulders and smiled. With that, he stood up first and offered his hand to pull you to your feet. Without letting go, he started walking.

“Excuse me, where are we going?”

He chimed back with a line you had heard before: “I know a place.”

You ended up in a dive bar with some of the other drivers and their significant others. It was the first time you had met a lot of the others aside from Lando. Perhaps it was because they weren’t your clients, but you found yourself somewhat starstruck. It’s not that you hadn’t seen them around the paddock, but it felt like the first time you were truly brushing elbows with them. You were sure Lewis couldn’t have such flawless skin up close, nor could Carlos’ hair be so voluptuous, yet there they were in the flesh right next to you. You needed a drink to loosen up, and the McLaren crew had had a rough day. Coming in hot, you ordered a round of pickle back shots.

Luisinha was equally fascinated and disgusted. “What is this again? And why are there two? And why is one… green?”

“First you do the shot of whiskey, and then you chase it with a shot of pickle juice. The pickle juice neutralizes the burn from the whiskey and it has electrolytes so it’s kind of healthy!” She hesitantly sniffed the pickle juice and grimaced. You laughed, “Don’t ask questions, just drink. You’ll love it!”

A few more shots and beers later, your inhibitions had dissipated and you were dancing sloppily with Luisinha, feeling the base from the live band through the soles of your shoes. Work, for the first time in months, was the furthest thing from your mind. As you twirled and jumped and sang off key to your heart’s content, you failed to notice the familiar presence of your client approaching.

“Is it ok if I join? I come bearing gifts,” Daniel asked as he shimmied his way into your circle, handing out another round of beers. You can’t help the ear-to-ear smile that makes its way to your face.

“Come dance with us!” you shout over the sound of the bar. Luisinha raises an eyebrow. You both got along swimmingly during the race, and in that time you had clearly conveyed to her that you were Daniel’s lawyer and nothing more. “I’d get on that if I were you,” she teased at the time. You had laughed it off and dismissed it immediately. But seeing the two of you now with your rosy cheeks and lazy smiles, she was fully invested in stirring the pot.

The night’s debauchery continued, Luisinha secretly observing your exchanges. So when Lando tried talking to Daniel about race things, she not-so-discreetly intercepted.

“Honey, why don’t we go grab some more drinks?” Lando, clearly confused, was not picking up what she was putting down.

“What? But I just got us another rou-“

“Pleeeaaase, I’m so thirsty I need some water!” At this point she simply grabbed his wrist and dragged him away, but not before throwing a wink in your direction.

In your drunken stupor, you weren’t exactly picking up what she was putting down either. All you knew was that you were having a blast. So you decided to keep dancing with Daniel, ignorant to the fact that the crowd had begun to thin. It started with the two of you attempting and failing miserably at line dancing. Which led to you trying to teach him square dancing that you learned in the fifth grade. You lost track of how many times you stepped on each other’s feet and between fits of laughter, you didn’t realize how your hands were comfortably intertwined or the distance between your bodies decreasing.

He spun you away and back in. As you twirled into him a final time, your chests crashed into each other and your hand landed on his shoulder while his found its way to your waist. It was only in that moment with your faces inches apart that you became suddenly aware of your proximity. Feeling his breath tickle your face, you felt like your heart was going to beat its way out of your chest. Your gaze lowers to his plump lips then back to his eyes, counting the freckles. Your laughter slowed, unsure of what was so funny a minute ago.

You broke eye contact to look at the hand resting on his shoulder. What happened next felt like an eternity, but likely only lasted a few seconds. In one moment, you were relishing the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch and the warmth emanating from him, taking note of the rise and fall of your chests in unison, your pulse extending to the furthest reaches of your fingertips. Then, in a quick turn for the worst, your eyes fell to your wrist. According to your watch, you should’ve turned into a pumpkin two hours ago. The haze of the day and the bar and the alcohol lifted, reality quickly setting back in. In a sobering moment, you met his eyes again desperately trying to telecommunicate what you couldn’t put into words. Was he aware of the delicate bubble you two had created for yourselves? Did he realize how fragile it was? Did he know it just burst?

You stepped away from him. “I’m sorry,” was all you could muster before you turned and left.

#daniel ricciardo #dr3 #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #danny ric #f1 x reader #dr3 x reader #f1 x oc #f1 #reader x dr3 #reader x f1 #slow burn #lawyered #formula one fanfiction #laws of attraction

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ladylaviniya · 3 months

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AVATAR: THE NEW MISSION

Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Miles makes a deal with you...a deal that he violates when he doesn't take the answer "No."

Pairing: Recom!Miles Quaritch X Na'vi Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, Colonisation, Weapons, Death Threats, Coercive Control, Rape, Forced Mating, Forced Orgasm.

Author Notes: I am incredibly grateful for your support and enthusiasm for the story! Liking, Reblogging, and Comments mean the world to me, and your engagement helps me greatly. I must confess, I have a particular fondness for comments, as much as Miles has for the reader ;D (though that's a whole different topic)! I make an effort to reply to most thoughtful comments, so please don't hesitate to share your thoughts or ask any questions you might have. Your input is truly valued and greatly appreciated.

Inspiring Song: "Girl With One Eye" By Florence & The Machine

Waking up in a different body is always difficult. But waking up where you don’t know is worse.

Your eyes opened slowly, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings heightened by the soreness in your face. The intense light stung your vision, one eye struggling to open as widely as the other. The sensation of nausea overwhelmed you, and you groaned, feeling bile rising in your throat.

You instinctively lifted your hand to cover your mouth, attempting to suppress the rising nausea, only to feel the cold touch of metal. Confused, you looked down at your body, resting on a soft white cushion surrounded by little metal rails. To your growing horror, you realized that your hand was ensnared in a clanking rope of cold iron – you were shackled to the bed.

Panic and anger surged through you as you furiously sat up on the bed, using your free hand to desperately attempt to tear off the restrictive chains. Your body tensed as you crouched on the bed, exerting all your strength to tug and push against the unyielding metal contraption. Frustration and desperation overcame you, and you let out a tormented scream, the sound bouncing off the walls of your confinement.

With determination, you frantically searched the space, desperately searching for anything sharp or heavy enough to cut through the chains. Your eyes darted around the small room, noting the pristine white walls. The single light bulb above cast an intense fluorescent glow, blindingly bright, like the glowworms back in the caves you called home. The prolonged exposure to the harsh light caused your eyes to water, further irritating your vision. The room was starkly clinical, bathed in a sterile white hue. The walls seemed to enclose the space like a cold embrace, their smoothness offering no solace or comfort.

Frustrated and desperate, you returned your attention to the chains, determined to escape. Your teeth bit down against the cold metal, you persisted despite the pain. As you reflected on the recent events, the memory of fleeing from the demons flooded your mind. You realized the urgency to warn your clan. Rawm, the wise and experienced warrior, would know how to handle the situation. Only he could protect the village and ensure safety for everyone.

Your heart sank as you noticed a small black eye peaking down at you from the corner of the room. It made noises, purring at you with its red blinking iris. Despair overwhelmed you as you gazed at the purple marks rising on your trembling wrists, the result of your futile attempts to break free from the chains.

Tears streamed down your face as you silently pleaded to Eywa for salvation, making a pact with the Great Mother that you would willingly submit, accepting the role of Pukxaw’s obedient bride without complaint. Anything to escape this nightmare.

You swore to yourself that you would heed your mother’s words and never again embark on forbidden journeys to play games.

Suddenly, a wall beside you slid open silently, and the one who had captured you entered the room. As the wall moved back into place, it sealed the gap without leaving a single trace behind, as if the open wall had been nothing but a fleeting illusion.

The towering figure of the Uniltìrantokx known as the Colonel entered the room, his presence imposing and intimidating.

“Well, good morning there, sunshine.”

His gaze was unwavering as his golden eyes met your watery ones, and his smile sent chills down your spine.

Desperation taking hold, you tugged anxiously at the shackles that held you captive, the rattling of chains filling the air as you pleaded, “Tokx oyeä lonu, ruxte.”

The Colonel’s eyes darted to the cuff encircling your wrist before returning to your pleading face, a malicious glint was filling his gaze.

“English,” the Colonel spoke firmly, his gaze fixed on you. “I know you understand it. So, what did you say?”

Tears streamed down your face as you pleaded, “Please, let me go.”

His smile widened as he leaned towards you, unlocking the cuffs with a loud clatter. In an instant, you found yourself cowering in the corner on the other side of the room, holding your purpling wrists tightly against your chest, attempting to shield yourself from further harm.

He release you, it’s what you wanted, but you were scared, he took you from your home. What did he want with you. Why were you here?

The Colonel knelt down on one knee, his gaze locked on your trembling form.

“Why did you...” you stumbled over your words, struggling to find the correct translation in English, “stolen me?”

His smile widened, revealing his sharp, canine-like teeth. He repeated your question with a hint of surprise. “Why did we steal you?”

You nodded frantically, desperately seeking an explanation. “Greenhome, I want,” you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady. “Brother, I want, Mother, I want.” Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you fought back the sobs that threatened to escape your throat.

With a deliberate move, the Colonel stretched out his large hand, and you instinctively flinched away, anticipating further harm. However, his touch was surprisingly gentle as he carefully caressed your shoulder and pushed your hair away from your ear. He inched closer cautiously, bracing himself for a potential attack, as if prepared to deal with a primitive, savage creature.

The Colonel settled down beside you, his hand softly rubbing your back to comfort you. “I bet you want your family, don’t you?” he continued in a deceptively gentle tone. “Now, here’s the deal. I will help you get back to your family if you do something for me in return.”

Your lips parted slightly as you focused intently on his words, your ears perked up anxiously as you tried to comprehend his meaning. You shifted onto your hands and knees, adopting a hunched position in an effort to understand better.

“A deal?” You sniffled.

“That’s right sugar cube,” he chuckled, “If you teach me the Na’vi way, I will let you go, you won’t be couped up in this here box.”

Your brows furrowed, “Na’vi way?”

He pinched a strand of your hair and you fought the urge to bat him away.

“Like,” he pondered, swiping a hand down his face and sighed, “Na’vi lì’fya, ‘okrol, syvue and um traditions, hunt ah taron?.” Na’vi language, history, food, hunt.

Your mouth felt dry and you tried to understand his terrible translation, he sounded very dim when he said your peoples words.

“I teach?” You asked, “And I go home?”

He nodded, “See, you have the idea! Pretty sharp.”

You didn’t understand how you were sharp, your skin might’ve had a scar or two but it was very soft to touch.

Sitting on your knees before him, you bit nervously at the inside of your cheek, torn between loyalty to your own kind and the possibility of sharing knowledge. This Uniltìrantokx was undoubtedly a demonic entity, yet he had demonstrated a desire to learn. Growing up, you had been taught that knowledge was a potent force, that all beings were entitled to the opportunity to learn and grow.

“What’s your name, sugar cube?” the Colonel inquired, waving his fingers playfully in front of your face, sensing the depth of your thought process.

Your immediate internal reaction was one of guarded caution. If you revealed your name, could that knowledge be used against you?

He paused for a moment, his lips momentarily retracting into his mouth before announcing, “Alright then. I’ll tell you mine. My name is Miles.”

Your gaze fixated on his outstretched palm, its size impressive and intimidating.

“You’re supposed to shake it,” he exclaimed with a slight cough.

Your gaze shifted back to his face as you tentatively grabbed his fingers and gingerly moved them around in a tentative motion.

A deep chuckle escaped him, and he withdrew his hand, shaking his head. “No, no, no, here, let me show you. Give me your hand.”

There was a hint of uncertainty in her face. With trembling hand, you cautiously extended it towards him, your fear evident in your hesitation. What if he intended to bite it?! However, his much larger fingers enveloped your hand tenderly, gently squeezing your palms together before slowly moving them upwards and then downwards in an up-and-down motion. This unexpected contact triggered an involuntary happy surprise on your face. It was funny. You wondered if all Uniltìrantokx created each other like this.

Miles continued, “See?” he began to explain, “That’s how humans greet each other after sharing their name.”

Your hands were still connected, the warmth of his touch creating a sense of comfort. You responded, “My name is [Y/N].”

His reply was laced with a pleasant hum, “Pleasure to meet you, [Y/N].”

In an attempt to mirror the behaviour you observed, you responded with a hum of your own, believing this was indeed part of the meeting ritual.

"Where did you learn to speak English?" Miles queried, his eyes watching you closely. "Was it Grace Augustine's school?"

You shook your head in response, taking a moment to carefully choose your words. "No," you explained, "My... mothers, sisters, son, he learned English and he taught me because I wanted to become a wise teacher."

He figured you meant to say ‘cousin.’

His laughter filled the air as he exclaimed with glee, "You're in luck then! I want to be your student!"

The situation was becoming increasingly overwhelming for you. Your tail anxiously flicked, betraying your desire to create some distance between yourself and him.

Miles observed your unease and seemed to understand. “[Y/N],” he said softly, “I may not have been born here, but I am one of you. I want to help you, I want to learn.”

His words carried a hint of reassurance, and his pet name, ‘sugar cube,’ added a touch of innocence.

Your teeth clenched tightly as you pinched your eyes shut, deep in thought. Could you actually do this? Could you teach these demons from the stars? It was a tale passed down that the great Toruk Macto, the legendary figure, had been a Sky People – yet he had worn the same skin as the Na’vi. His transformation into the revered leader of the Omatikaya stood as a testament to the power of change.

You pondered over the potential impact this dim-witted kidnapper could have on the Tawkami. Your fingers gently rubbed against the tender, reddened skin of your injured wrists.

He promised to return you home.

You turned to face him, your voice firm and resolute. “Your name,” you gritted out, “Miles, yes?”

He nodded in affirmation, a smile spreading across his face.

“I will teach you the ways of my people,” you declared with determination.

“Great to hear,” he replied eagerly, his eyes lighting up. “Care to join me for a walk?”

Your eyes widened with excitement as the realization sank in – an opportunity to escape! Miles tapped the wall, and it obediently expanded, creating an opening. He stepped through, gesturing for you to follow. You were initially hesitant, but his hand reaching out to grasp yours forced you into motion. The touch of his larger hand enveloped yours, making you feel unusually small and insignificant.

Miles took charge, guiding you firmly through a dimly lit hallway. You stumbled along beside him, adjusting to his quick pace as he led you through a maze of corridors.

During the journey, he suddenly remarked, "First, let's get an ice pack on that shiner of yours."

He continued walking, his grip on your hand tugging you along as he instructed you to keep up. Unconsciously, your feet moved in sync with his as you walked alongside him. You glanced down and noticed the stark difference between your feet and his. He wore some sort of binding made of animal hide, secured in place with ropes. In contrast, your feet were completely bare. Your twitching nose betrayed your curiosity as you observed the unusual difference between his footwear and your lack thereof.

Miles led you into a room where you encountered the same Uniltìrantokx warriors you had confronted in the forest. Some engaged in an odd activity, lifting strange objects overhead, while others were fiercely punching sacks suspended from the walls. As your gaze fell upon them, your teeth bared in a defensive display, and a loud hiss escaped your lips.

One of them sprang to his feet, brandishing a long thick blade in his hand. "Colonel, what the fuck is she doing in here?!"

"Shut your pie hole, Pike!" the Colonel retorted firmly. "This is our guest, [Y/N], also known as your new Na'vi teacher."

As you watched, the soldiers' faces displayed a mix of shock and confusion. Pike, in particular, seemed to struggle with the sudden change of plans.

“But boss,” he protested, his voice laced with disbelief. "The mission was..."

“Do you Nittwits think I’ve forgotten the mission! No! So shut up and listen to what I tell you! Zhang, get us an ice pack. Seems you hit the lady a little too hard yesterday.”

Your eyes fixated on Miles, the venomous aura surrounding him palpable. You couldn’t help but take a small step back, feeling a mix of fear and unease in his presence.

Although you didn’t fully comprehend the words he spoke, their tone and inflection conveyed an underlying malice.

When the soldier named Zhang returned, clutching a very cold rock wrapped in woven clothes, you observed him with curiosity. However, his hesitancy was apparent as he offered the item to you.

“…You put it on your face darlin’, here,” Miles instructed, gently guiding your hands up to apply the cold object, known as an ‘ice pack,’ to your face.

He tugged on your elbow, leading you to the front of the room, positioned in front of a large mirror. Surprisingly, he allowed you to take a seat on a sizeable plastic box.

Miles spoke quietly to the female Uniltìrantokx named Walker, who diligently jumped up to retrieve a box from a shelf. She handed the box to him, and Miles quickly flicked it open, retrieving a peculiar cloth from within. He extended it towards you with an expectant expression.

“Here ya go, put that on. My boys won’t stop perving at your chest.”

You found yourself puzzled by the unfamiliar English word he used – “perving” – but from his reaction, it appeared to be a negative term. You wondered if wearing a shirt was forbidden in the ways of your own clan, yet you considered the item a gift and believed there was nothing wrong with accepting it.

As you fumbled with the shirt, attempting to figure out the correct holes to insert your head and arms through, Miles observed your struggle. However, before he could intervene, you successfully managed to put it on.

You heard the others snicker, “Ah, our teacher huh Colonel? Maybe next lesson she can teach us how to put on pants.”

“Or boots.”

“Or a G-string.”

“Shut it Sampson! Or you’ll be doing laps in the rain” Miles barked.

“Yes sir.”

Miles gently removed the ice pack from your face and replaced it with a book. You studied the unfamiliar symbols on the front, struggling to recall their meanings.

As you carefully opened the book and flipped through the pages, you discovered an alphabet and a numbering system. With every glance, you felt a sense of familiarity, drawing parallels to the lessons you had listened to from your cousins.

“You’ll need to be teaching us basics sweetheart, or else you might not ever see the other side of these walls, do you understand what I’m saying.”

Miles’ gaze bore intently into you, a stern expression upon his face. His personae was firm yet different when addressing his men. Feeling intimidated, you swallowed nervously and responded with a nod, saying, “Yes.”

He quickly corrected you, “Say ‘yes, sir.’”

Confusion crossed your face as you wondered if you had made a grammatical error. Not fully understanding the meaning of ‘Sir,’ you echoed, “Yes, sir.”

Your response prompted a wide grin from him, seemingly pleased with your compliance.

“Good girl, now let’s go back to your room and I’ll have you fed some good grub from the kitchen!”

As you silently returned to your cell, a feeling of trepidation washed over you, causing you to clench the book tightly in your hands. Initially, you had agreed only to teach Miles, not the entire group. The realization of having to teach them all now filled you with unease.

The rough, hot fabric of the shirt against your skin caused discomfort, prompting you to tug it off as soon as you entered the cell. A deep longing for home consumed you, and the urge for a comforting embrace grew stronger with every passing moment.

Miles observed your troubled expression, easily deciphering the anxiety written on your face. He held a small, plastic box in his left arm and sat it down on your bed. Opening it up, he offered it to you with a gentle touch.

“It’s food,” he reassured you.

Your nose instinctively wrinkled at the unappealing smell emanating from the contents of the box.

Miles chuckled, attempting to reassure you. “It’s not so bad. It’s definitely better than just mud and twigs, right?”

You frowned and asserted, “I do not eat mud and twigs.”

Miles’ interest piqued as he found himself enjoying the sound of your voice. He closed the cell door by tapping on the wall, securing it shut.

He observed you descending to the ground, your fingers delving into the gray goop within the small food box. You brought the morsel to your lips and slurped it down with relish.

Miles was well aware that you would never utilize the spoon that he had provided. He found himself taking a strange pleasure in observing you eat in this primal manner, devouring the food directly from the box. The sounds you made while consuming it were loud and wet, arousing a certain sense of lewdness. A wicked part of him said it was probably what you sounded like if you sucked cock...

A wicked part of him fixated on your innocent mannerisms, captivated by the contrast between your naïveness and his own desires. There was a sweetness, gentle shyness and innocence he really loved about you. The thought about corrupting the little naive na’vi woman was making his pants a little tight.

As he took a seat on the edge of your bed, Miles caught your eyes as you looked up at him. A sly smile tugged the corners of his mouth as he began to fidget with the end of his queue, his fingers pinching and twisting the tendrils, causing them to move wildly in the air.

He cleared his throat before asking nonchalantly, “So, what’s all this about?”

Leaving the food momentarily forgotten, you moved closer to Miles and took a seat beside him on the bed. Eager to share your knowledge, you presented him with your own queue and began to explain, "This connects all living creatures. It connects us to Eywa. She resides within us, just like this."

With a touch of innocence, you placed your hand gently on Miles' stomach, guiding him to breathe deeply and synchronize his breaths with yours.

“We feel each other, and help one another. We ride and connect with pa'li which help to carry many items long, far, far away.”

“I have a banshee,” he proudly cut in.

You didn’t understand.

“Uh - An ikran!” He corrected with a chuckle, “Named him Cupcake because he was sweet enough to try and kill me.”

The unfamiliarity of Miles' words left you puzzled, but you understood that his claim of possessing a banshee without undergoing the Iknimaya ceremony was indeed unprecedented. Even you, yourself, had not been able to attain an ikran.

In response, you leaned back a bit and observed his captivated fascination as he toyed with his own tendrils. Without thinking, you instinctively smacked his arm in reprimand.

“Tìftang si, ngeyä tswin fil ke!” Stop, it is not a play thing, You scolded.

Miles chuckled upon witnessing your reaction, holding his hand up in a gesture of apology. "Sorry, sorry, I was just curious," he expressed.

He then took your queue in his hand, lifting them up and bringing them close together, contemplating the possibility of connecting their queues.

“What would happen if we connected?”

However, your response was immediate and embarrassed. "Not right," you explained emphatically, shaking your head. “Not allowed! Done only between mated couples."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized the implications of his suggestion. He still held it, his grip growing tighter making your breath catch. You tried to take it back but he moved it away.

“This is not funny, Miles.”

He joked, “Come on sweet cheeks? Why, don’t ya wanna mate?”

You shrieked at him, “Not a game, it is sacred!”

His grip on your queue became increasingly tight, creating an excruciating pain that triggered a flood of tears to stream down your face.

"Let me go! Ah, let me go!" You pleaded, frantically clawing at his bicep in a desperate attempt to alleviate the torment.

He clenched his teeth and stared at you with unwavering determination, pressing you hard against the bedhead. With a forceful tug on your braid, you cried out in pain. Effortlessly, he secured both your wrists underneath his knees, applying uncomfortable pressure onto your sore wrists. The agony intensified as his kneecap rubbed against your injured wrist, prompting a guttural howl.

He snapped “Enough!”

Miles grasped your tendrils tightly and brought them up to your face, his gaze locked onto yours as he forcibly connected them. The connection erupted a series of shrill wails and curses from you in Na'vi. The intensity of his essence invaded your being, burning your soul and forcefully tearing you open, as he siphoned off your energy mercilessly. You felt vulnerable and violated as you desperately struggled to break the connection before the damage became irreversible.

With the unwelcome union of your tendrils, you felt a surge of intrusive sensations as Miles' heartbeat, breath, anger, and hate penetrated your senses. The heat of his blood and veins pulsated within your own body, forcibly connecting your souls deeply. His essence burrowed into your very core, writhing and wriggling savagely, seeking to fully consume and possess you.

His physical form above you trembled with violent intensity, the bedrailing shuddering under the impact. Your tormenting screams were perceived by him only as the symphony of his conquest, a sound of submission to his authority. His lips curled back into a wicked grin, revealing clenched teeth in a fierce expression. His body shifted and writhed with unrestrained ecstasy, the power flowing through him like a potent intoxication. The tight fabric of his camouflage pants strained, tenting and bulging beneath him, betraying the primal lust that consumed him.

“Mine,” he growled, “You belong to me.”

The most distressing aspect of the ordeal was the conflicting feelings within you, the equal surge of power and desire coursing through your body despite your unwillingness to submit to him. You felt torn apart, the struggle between your own resolve and the primal urge to yield to his dominance. Your mind was ready to just accept his seed by the will of Eywa and make babes.

A guttural grunt escaped Miles. He tore off his shirt with a loud rip of seams and buttons while he tore his belt and spit his pants down the middle, kicking his boots off.

You were in a similar rush, your face flushed and sweaty while you tugged at the strings of your tweng cloth. Flipping yourself onto your belly as you pressed back to him. Your tail curled back and around his thigh, tugging him, encouraging him to take your slick flower.

It was fast, he entered quickly and felt you squeal from being taken so hastily. Surprising even himself he muttered, “sorry” and pushed deep before pulling back out and designing a rhythmic thrust. You were both hissing and panting. Trying to feel each other more an more.

With this connection it was a strange and exciting feeling. It was like you were controlling his movements but you knew he must’ve felt the same about controlling you.

Did he feel that growing warmth of the wet moist pad being grazed with every movement? You felt his length and how his tip was happily strangled inside.

“F-fuck,” Miles groaned into your ear. His fingers wrapped around your waist and savagely hauled you back onto his abusive cock. His face dug into your neck and he began to lick and suck the crease of the shoulder.

Your eyes were tightly shut but they managed a peak when you felt his desperate hand explored you. Your small swaying breasts were like soft pillows for him to grip and pinch. You turned your face into his and nibble his ear, he gasped and shut his eyes.

He took control once more and this time he shoved his mouth over yours. His mouth was hot and wet, coating yours. His sharp teeth tugged you lips before his tongue stabbed its way into your mouth possessively.

His thrusts started to falter, his knees on the bed were trembling and you turned to face back at the mattress. Feeling his body lift off you a little and slam into your now sore core.

A few more lazy pumps inside of you and he finally fell out, soft cock drowned from your pussy and his cum. You felt it…your hand gently moving beneath you, feeling a light patter on the bed and drip on your hand. Your eyes flutter. Your queues separated and you both tried to catch your breath.

When you managed to swallowed and steady your beating heart, your eyes drifted down the foot of the bed where Miles was slowing his breath and trying to understand what just happened.

Frustration and agony consumed you as you desperately attempted to kick him, but your quivering legs lacked the strength. When the intended blow connected, it was as a meek touch only, failing to cause any real damage.

With a cold detachment, Miles stood upright and walked away, not sparing even a glance back in your direction.

Desperation etched itself on your face as tears streamed down your cheeks, the pain of his rejection stinging fiercely.

Miles had committed an egregious act – he had plundered something of profound spiritual significance and meaning from you. Without a hint of care or empathy, he left you broken and alone, oblivious to the magnitude of the harm he had inflicted upon you.

The depth of his transgression was immense, leaving an indelible mark upon your very soul.

The pain you felt between your legs was like a inner burn. You felt incomplete…..you felt like you’d been played with and that the world would now have its back turn on you. You felt violated. You had firmly asserted your refusal but Miles ignored your protests and proceeded with his own desires, binding you to him in a cursed union that would persist until the final breath of either one of you.

Anxiety gnawed at your heart as the gravity of the situation became clearer. Doubt haunted your mind, leaving you to ponder if Eywa would ever pardon you for your role in this unwanted arrangement.

Exhausted and defeated, you muffled your screams into the mattress, eventually succumbing to sleep as fatigue overpowered you.

★HELPLINES★

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#Spotify #miles quaritch x na'vi reader #recombinant miles quaritch #miles quaritch x y/n #miles quaritch x navi reader #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x navi #miles quaritch #recom!miles quaritch x y/n #recom!miles quaritch x reader #recom!miles quaritch

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ranhaitanisgf · 11 months

Note

aaaaaAAAAA CONGRATS ON 2K !! IM SO HAPPY & PROUD OF YOUUUUU ILYSM YOU DONT KNOW HOW MYCH I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR HCS 🗣!!

ofc i HAD to join on this event 🤩 may i have a scenario for “oblivious ‘best friends’ “ & “getting sick” with inui? where reader FINALLY realizes that inui actually cared for her more than a friend would ? preferably fluff 🛐 TQSM LOVE I APPRECIATE IT [cry] <3

— inui [inupi] seishu // obvlivious best friends // getting sick

[𖤐] ANON THATS SO SWEET !!!! im sorry for disappearing for so damn long !!! i hopeeee yall enjoy this, as i went wayyyy over word limit once again !! i also rewrote this like two hundred million times cuz i was struggling w the vibes idk ... anywho. enjoy my loveliessss xoxooooo

wc ; 1.7k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

inui was worried.

well, he wasn’t sure that that was quite the word to sum up how he was feeling at the moment, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment.

his worry had started around a week ago, when you had stopped showing up to toman meetings. it was highly unusual, since even though you took on more of a strategic role rather than a fighting role, you still would attend every meeting to offer your input on different issues and how to solve them. you prided yourself on your intellect and being able to strategize, so the first day you hadn’t shown up, it was already ringing alarm bells in his mind.

after the second, third, and fourth day, inui was sure that something terrible had happened, and somehow nobody had told him. however, even after asking around all the divisions, and even mikey himself, he concluded that nobody had a clue as to where you were. every time he tried to call your cell, it went straight to voicemail, and all the texts that he sent were still on delivered.

and so now, as any best friend would do, he showed up at your apartment.

he had visited a couple times in the last week, repeatedly pressing your doorbell and knocking on the door for what seemed like forever. he didn’t want to intrude into your home, but his worry was getting to its peak, so, as an normal person would do, he decided to break your door down.

sure, he felt pretty guilty about it, especially since your landlord would probably give you hell about it, but the pros outweighed the cons in this situation.

pros: he gets to see if you’re safe.

cons: your landlord gets angry and increases your rent, your door is broken until it gets fixed, your neighbors will be upset (maybe), you might get kicked out of your apartment.

yeah, in his mind, the pro outweighed the cons.

with a strong kick, inui swiftly kicked beneath the handle of your door. as expected, it wasn’t the strongest thing, so it opened rather easily, even having the courtesy to stay on the hinges.

“(y/n)?” his voice rang throughout your apartment, feeling a bit on edge at how messy everything was.

had someone broken in and kidnapped you? did you get robbed and they ended up abducting you? what if-?

“what…the fuck.” inui’s jumbled thoughts cleared up the moment he heard your voice, (was it a bit more raspy than usual?). you had emerged from your bedroom, a blanket heaped over your shoulders as you blankly stared at him.

“(y/n)...” without much thinking, inui took a couple hasty steps forward and wrapped his arms around you, relief flooding through him. “do you have any idea how worried i’ve been? why didn’t you pick up any of my calls?” you sniffled a bit in his embrace, making him step back a bit to get a better look at you.

your eyes were rimmed red, and now that he was paying more attention, he realized that you were really warm. your hair was quite a mess, and despite the thick blanket that you were holding over your shoulders, you seemed to be shivering.

“well, that’s ‘cause my cell’s been dead and i haven’t charged it.” you jerked a thumb over at the living room couch, which your dead cell phone was laying on. “what’re you even doing here though? did you break the door?” your eyes wandered behind him, seeing your door wide open, looking back at inui as he froze a bit at the question.

“yeah…i’ll pay for a new one. is this why you haven’t been responding? because you’re sick?”

“i think you’re smart enough to answer that question yourself.” you mumbled, turning around and walking back to your bedroom. “now, if you’ll excuse me, ‘m gonna go back to sleep…” after taking another couple steps though, you felt yourself stumbling as your vision began to blur.

your wavering frame was steadied by two arms at your shoulders, quickly leading you to sit down on the edge of your bed. as your vision came back, you noticed inui kneeling in front of you, his brows pinched together with worry as he slipped his cool hand onto your forehead.

“you’ve had this high of a fever this whole time?”

“yep…” you could barely keep your eyes open at this point, your head bobbing up and down as you tried to stay awake.

“hm…just go back to sleep.”

“will do…” you mumbled, flopping back onto your bed and getting under your blankets.

inui looked down at you as you passed out almost immediately, feeling worried and a little bit betrayed. why hadn’t you called him? had you been taking care of yourself this whole time?

he settled onto the edge of your bed, carefully pushing some strands of hair out of your face. gently, he pulled some of your blanket up, tucking you in, the corners of his lips turning up as you buried yourself deeper in the blanket.

cute…

“...up…(y/n)...wake up…” you groaned at the subtle shaking of your body, turning over to try and go back to sleep. “(y/n)? just wake up for a few minutes and you can go back to sleep.” the smell of something good wafted through the air, which was enough to make you slowly open one eye, turning back over.

inui was above you, leaning over as he made sure you were awake. his blue eyes became a bit softer when you finally opened both of your own eyes, staying over you for a moment more than was necessary before leaning back. carefully, he handed you a small bowl of rice, a fried egg on top of it with some soy sauce, handing you a pair of chopsticks.

“you should eat if you want to get your strength back.” you dug in without another word; the most you had been surviving on in the past week was crackers and cheese, since that was the only thing you were able to eat without doing any sort of cooking.

however, your eating paused when you felt inui pushing some of your hair to the side, unpeeling a cold pack and carefully sticking it to your forehead. he was a little bit closer than he probably needed to be; you could see the flecks of green in his blue irises, his eyebrows still pinched together a little bit as he looked at you.

ba-dump!

now that you were a little bit more awake, you became quite conscious of how messy your hair was, and even more so noticing how sweaty and gross you were. your fingers ran through your hair, trying your best to take some of the tangles out as you looked to the side, embarrassment flooding through you. you hadn’t called anyone on purpose; you hadn’t exactly wanted anybody to see you like this.

“er, thanks…”

“...”

“...seishu…?” you questioned, feeling a bit awkward as he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. he looked back at you from his seat on the edge of your bed, a somewhat faraway look in his eyes.

“hm?”

“uhm, are you alright…?” at your question, inui opened his mouth, then closed it again, seeming to be thinking about something. he mulled over it for a few more moments, the silence feeling just a tad awkward, before he started to speak again.

“i wish you had called me.” he said, a tone of hurt in his voice. “i was worried that something may have happened to you…and even if you’re just sick, i just…” inui paused, fiddling a bit with a piece of his hair as his ears turned a bit pink. “...i wish that you would rely on me more.” he sighed, his head pulling down a bit as he stared at the ground.

the straightforwardness of his words caught you wholly off guard; you had not been expecting that sort of response from him.

you felt some guilt flood through you at seeing his sadness, laying your chopsticks across your bowl as his words echoed through your head. you supposed that you probably should have just let him know that you were sick instead of trying to disappear for a week or two, since you probably would have also been worried if he had tried to pull a stunt like that.

“i’m sorry…i just didn’t want anybody to see me like this. i don’t exactly look the best right now, so-”

“you look good.”

“...” you stared at the boy seated next to you, trying to find any sort of lie in his eyes. instead, he just kept looking back at you with the most honesty in his eyes, a slight smile across his lips. “you’re a weirdo…” you murmured, feeling your heart skip a beat when you realized that he seemed to be serious with his words, (was your face feeling hot because of your fever?).

inui didn’t reply to your half-hearted words, instead taking the bowl from your hands and placing it on your bedside table.

“you should get some rest.” you stayed sitting up for a moment, your eyes tracing over all his fluid movements. his blue eyes suddenly flicked back to you, the eye contact finally breaking the trance you seemed to be in, making you immediately lay back down and cover the bottom half of your face with your blankets. despite the embarrassment you were suddenly feeling, there was also a giddy feeling you felt as you watched inui adjust your blankets, making sure that you were all covered up.

“are you going to leave?”

please say no.

“well, no…your door doesn’t close now, and i’m not going to leave you here to let just anybody walk in.”

“oh, right. forgot about that…” you giggled a bit at inui’s sheepish expression as he stood up, clearing off your bedside table and standing up.

“get better soon, (y/n).” there was a small smile on his face as he exited, gently closing your door behind him. when you were sure he was gone, you couldn’t help the euphoric smile that spread across your face, pulling your blankets a bit over your face.

did that really just happen!?

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