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gor3-hound · 10 months ago

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FUCK YOU !! (AND, UH, FUCK HER TOO) — LOGAN HOWLETT + SCOTT SUMMERS

ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett

a/n: deadpool and wolverine full throttled me back into my x-men era... rewatched the first two movies and binge wrote this over the course of three hours... it's pure, shameless smut with slightly gay undertones idk what to tell you... reader is basically in place of jean!!

cw: 18+ content, double penetration, almost cucking, cheating, reader is scott's girlfriend, logan is an asshole, competitive sex?? fighting, clawsTM, biting, marking, mild possessive behavior, p in v, mild scent kink, assholery all round tbh, creampies, threesome. gay crisis for a second x

word count: 2.3k words

Scott is starting to think Logan likes his things way too much. First, it was the way he looked at you when he was first brought to the school, eyes raking over your form. Scott wasn't blind – the visor didn't impair his vision that much. He remembers walking into the room when the both of you were alone. He could sense the tension between the two of you before his presence was even made known to you.

It wasn't until a while later he'd figured out Logan probably smelt him coming. Cocky bastard probably wanted to be caught.

Then, it was his motorcycle. His very own pride and joy. Returned with an empty tank, his keys tossed to him like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his visor as he chucked the keys back to Logan. He barely managed to reign in his irritation.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott had told him to do so after that comment, despite having the faith in you that you'd be able to avoid Logan's charms. He was clearly wrong. Logan didn't seem like the type to have much respect, but this was just taking the piss.

“Been meaning to test if these beams could pulverise Adamantium.”

All he gets in reply is a shit eating grin from Logan as he pulls away from the heated kiss Scott had walked in on, his hands still gripping your waist. You really had the audacity to get all wide-eyes and shocked, like you weren't just about to fuck Logan with your ass perched on Scott's bike.

“Shit. Scott, I'm-”

“Sorry?” He cuts off, gaze very clearly still trained on Logan despite the way his shades conceal his line of vision. “Yeah. Save it.”

“Thought I could smell that shitty hair gel.” Logan huffs, bringing his head down to nip and suck at your neck, adding to the wide array of marks he's already left. And you fucking let him, tilting your head back and gasping like it's the best thing you've ever felt. Scott's gonna kill you, then Logan, then quite possibly himself. “How long’s it take you to get that done in the mornin’ anyway, pretty boy?”

“Right. Says the guy with kitty ears?” Scott bites back, taking a few steps towards the both of you. “I'm gonna give you about three seconds to get away from my girl and my bike before we see how good your healing factor really is.”

Logan fucking laughs, kissing his way up your neck and along your jaw so he can whisper into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Stay put for me, yeah? Shouldn't take long, sweetheart.”

He pushes away from the bike, turning around to face Scott. Cocks his head to the side like a damn dog, rolling his shoulders as his claws shoot out from his knuckles. “Don't make me embarrass you in front of your girl, Cy-clops.”

Scott fucking hates that, hates the way he drags out his name as if it's stupider than Wolverine. Hates everything about Logan, if he's being honest. Hates how easily the man manages to get under his skin every single time.

“You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that?” Scott squares up, trying his best not to hurl a beam directly at Logan with the hopes he'd be able to send him flying through the garage wall. He's meant to be a team player. Level-headed. He's not sure how the older man always reduces him to this.

“That really hurts my feelings, bub. I thought we were a team.” Logan stalks closer, and Scott's vaguely aware you've gotten up, ready to break up a fight that never comes. Claws sink into the drywall beside his head at the same time he hears you tell Logan to ‘stop’. His back hits the wall, and then the asshole leans down, lips brushing his ear just like he had to yours moments prior.

“Y'know, I can smell the changes in your scent when you're pissed, happy... Can also smell it when you're turned on.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply just to tease the man further. “So either you're really into you're girl gettin’ passed around, or you wanna fuck me. Shit, or both. Which is it, pretty boy?”

“I don't want you to fuck my girl, Logan.” Scott grits put. His looks literally can kill, and he's becoming increasingly tempted to prove that to the other man. “And I definitely don't wanna fuck you.”

“C'mere, baby.” Logan coos, gaze flicking to you. He tuts when Scott goes to move, pressing his body against his to prevent him from getting too far. “Ah-ah. Stay there, pretty boy.”

You're at Logan’s side in a second, peering up at him through your lashes like an obedient dog waiting for its next command. Shit makes Scott's blood boil, his body going rigid against the other man's.

“D'you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?” He asks you, cocking his head to the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. And you fucking nod, like your boyfriend isn't right there staring at you. “D'you think he wants a kiss from me, too, sweetheart? Think he deserves it? Can't have been treatin’ you right if you came runnin’ to me, huh? Maybe I should teach him?”

“Yeah, think he needs it. He's always so stressed, never wants to do anything.” Now you're airing out your relationship issues? Fucking great. Scott's practically seething now, lips parting to say something – anything – to defend himself.

He doesn't get the chance before Logan's lips crash against his. He tenses up, ready for a fight. His hands come up to push the man away, but fuck he's a good kisser. It's a lot different from a girl – rougher. There's a drag of his stubble, a pleasant burn that comes from it. His teeth sink into Scott's lower lip before tugging, then he's forcing his tongue into his mouth. Scott ends up dragging him closer, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back.

A growl rises in Scott's throat when he hears you giggle at his reaction, but he doesn't have much time to think on it, ‘cause Logan laughs all breathy and hot into his mouth, and it's making him short circuit. The growl quickly transforms into a low whine, his lips chasing after the other man when he starts to pull back.

His eyes open just in time to watch as Logan grabs you by your hair to pull you into a needy kiss, his free hand grasping at your hip to grind you against his rapidly hardening length. Scott feels his own cock twitching to life at the sight, a breathless ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he reaches down to palm himself through his jeans. He hasn't been this hard in months – maybe ever. He feels like a horny teenager again, leaking pre-cum steadily into the fabric of his boxers. He isn't sure what to think of it. Humiliating, is what it is.

Logan's lips are on his again, his hands sliding under his shirt, tugging him closer. He feels his cock pressing against the hard ridges of Logan's muscles, feels your own hands join his in exploring Scott's skin, your lips pressing kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Relax, Scott.” You say, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Relax, yeah. His dick is rubbing against another man's for the first time while his girlfriend is reaching around him to unbutton his jeans, and you want him to relax. This is a totally normal scenario that isn't throwing him head first into an identity crisis.

He gets lost in the hands on his body, the lips against his skin. Before he knows it, the three of you are naked and panting and pressed against each other. Scott feels like he can't breathe properly. His eyes dart between your body, and the fattest dick he's ever seen in his life. He doesn't know if he should be turned on or really, really insecure. His cock answers by jumping against his abdomen and leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum. Traitor.

Logan grunts as he lifts you up almost effortlessly, his arms resting at the back of your knees, using them as makeshift slings to hold you up against his chest, which is flush to your back. He quirks an eyebrow as Scott just stares, unmoving. “Well? You don't need me to tell you where to put your dick, do you? No wonder she's so pent up.”

“Asshole.” Scott says simply in response, stepping towards you. His words lack any real bite – he's too turned on to even think about being pissy. He fists his length leisurely a few times before lining up with your entrance, pushing forward inch by inch until his hips are flush with the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling helplessly at his sides.

You gasp and whine as Logan moves to slide in alongside your boyfriend, nails digging into his skin until Logan is buried to the hilt inside of you. Scott instantly peppers the skin of your neck with kisses, trying to soothe you.

“You alright, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet. He's forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place, mind foggy with arousal as your cunt clenches around him.

“She's fine, bub. She can take it. Isn't that right, sweet thing.” Another whine, then a nod. It eases Scott, if only slightly, when he feels you relaxing against them. A beat passes, and then another. His eyes meet Logan’s and they both start to move – slowly, at first, before picking up the pace.

You're so much tighter like this, sucking him in desperately as he tries to find a rhythm with Logan. He can barely focus in anything but your heat and the way his cock ruts against Logan's as they both fuck into you. It's almost maddeningly hot, and he's feeling overwhelmingly anxious that he's going to cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Scott leans down, his lips meeting yours as he rocks forward over and over. His lashes flutter as he sucks on your tongue, kissing you greedily. He feels a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him away from you before sharp teeth start to nip at his lower lip, a tongue bullying his way into his mouth. He sucks on Logan's, too, kissing him back just as hungrily as he did to you. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he picks up the pace, coaxing you into relaxing further.

A growl rumbles Logan's chest when he feels Scott fucking you faster, his hips snapping against the fat of your thighs with more intensity, like he's determined to fuck you better than the other man. He's bigger, tip bullying your cervix with every thrust in a way that makes you tear up. His nose twitches as he smells the saltiness of your tears, then he's pulling away from Scott to lap them off of your face.

“Shhh, shh… you can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” He coos softly, moving to nuzzle the crook of your neck, nose running along the skin like he's scenting you. Both men continue to slide in and out of your slick heat, grunting and groaning like animals as they chase their release.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your boyfriend coos. Scott needs you to cum soon, because he's barely holding on as it is. He doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied – especially now he's very aware Logan will gladly pick up his slack. His hand falls from your hip to make its way between your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your clit until your muscles grow taut. He grins, sucking a possessive mark over one of the hickies Logan had left earlier. Take that, asshole.

Your walls flutter and clench around both cocks as you reach your peak, a shaky moan of Scott's name leaving your lips as your head falls back against Logan's shoulder. Check and mate.

“Hear that, kitty claws? I'm still her favourite.” He huffs out, hands returning to your hips in an almost bruising grip as he ruts helplessly inside your tight heat, balls tightening as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

“S'only ‘cause she's lookin’ at ya, dumbass.” Really, it shouldn't be Logan's gruff, fucked-out tone that drives him over the edge, but it is. He blows his load a second later, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as he fills you with spurts of hot, white liquid. He gasps against your skin, nails digging into your plush flesh.

Logan isn't far behind, grunting as he forces every inch of his cock deep inside of you, head tipping back as he releases. The tips of his claws threaten to breach the skin of his knuckles, but he manages to suppress them enough that they never fully unsheathe. He pants softly, chest heaving as he thrusts shallowly through his orgasm.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slowly pulling out of you. He lifts you off of Scott's cock, settling you down on the seat of the motorcycle so you can all catch your breath. Logan rubs soothing circles into your back as Scott steps forward, all but slumping against you as he embraces you.

“Did so good, baby. Was perfect.” He breathes out, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. He pulls back just enough to look at Logan, who's already lighting up a cigar. “The fuck did that even come from?”

That shit-eating grin lights up the older man's face again as he takes a few short draws from the cigar in his mouth. He exhales the smoke, pulling it out of his mouth to speak.

“Trust me, pretty boy. You really don't wanna know.”

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #scott summers #scott summers x reader #scott summers x you #scogan #scott summers x logan howlett #xmen smut #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader

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lightsoutletsgo · 1 year ago

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the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean) this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated. happy reading! mimi 🤍

taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.”

“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly. “Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly, “I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck, “Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, “Are you two done being gross?” “Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment.

Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm, “Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed, “Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently, “We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed, “Thanks but I can manage!”

♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.∿ As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out, “Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles? “Ollie!” “I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly, “There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed, “Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”

You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes. “So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously, “Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing, “Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen. “Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.” “Ollie?” “Yeah?” “You’re going in.”

♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿ A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you, “Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause, “It’s eleven o’clock?-” “That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?” “Well, you see… I have a question.” “Go ahead,” “So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.” “So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed, “It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Then turn it down?” “I don’t know how!” “Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second, “Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly

“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape, “You’re making french toast in the toaster?” “Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing, “Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!” “It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming, “You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen, “OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’ “Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes, “For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!”

You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you, “Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory, “Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie, “Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!”

♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿ Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was.

It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish, “I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him, “I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly, “Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact, “I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly.

“Ollie I swear to go-” “He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in, “Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker, “Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob, “He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.” “Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded, “Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out, “It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you.

As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre, “Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door, “Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again, “He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.” “Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.

Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black, standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him, “What happened, Ols?” “He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out, “Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, “Gerald.” “Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you, “He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair.

You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie, “Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles, “You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank, “The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue, “The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded, “Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you, “Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed, “Well where else would it have been?” “Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours, “Why was the funeral in your apartment?” “He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more.

You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room. “Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?” “Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.

“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly, “Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic. “We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue. “Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.” “Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room, “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats, “Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder, “Interesting date night hmm?” You growled, “Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you, “Do you want to say your final goodbyes?” “Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped, “It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head, “Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours.

You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed, “Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!” “It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation. “We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”

♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿ After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer.

Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily, “Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback, “Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed, “Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-” “No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear, “Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?” “Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone, “I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there. Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony, “Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar. “Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you, “H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!” “Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony. “How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge, “Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow, “Well please share,” “I forgot my key…” “I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off, “Because I didn’t want you to find out…” “Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs, “Your foot is up my butt!” “Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!” “Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,

“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.” “Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.” “Glad I could help.”

♯ the resolution ⊹.∿ “We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen “Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone, “God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled, “Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime. “Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later.

You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side, “What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused, “I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly, “What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious, “I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh, “He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile,

“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him, “Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his, “Well… we have a spare room?”

Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later, “Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty, “You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago. “Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor. “Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed, “Fine…” “Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled, “Rule two?” “No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded, “Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.” “Huh?!” “Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie, “No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded, “I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking, “Rule four?” “Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…” “And?” You raised an eyebrow, “No climbing balconies under any circumstances.” You clapped your hands together and smiled, “Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged, “In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.

#mimi.writes #bear hugs series ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚#f1 fic #f1 series #f1 fluff #f1 crack #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic

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aajjks · 8 months ago

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Fan(cy) You (m)

synopsis. Meet your biggest fan a.k.a. your biggest nightmare.

pairing: idol yn x fan!jungkook

warnings. DÁRK CÓNTÈNT, psychótíc bèhàvíóúr, sàsàèng jk, yándèrè thèmès, nón cón kïssïng, dèvótïón, 18+ thèmès

note. Let’s welcome another JK. Also, this was my older fic. Written for Jimin. But I decided to publish this as a JK fic. It was called devotee before. I hope you all will like him!

•••

His heart could explode in his chest.

Actually, it might’ve already did. Jungkook took a deep breath as he tried again to calm himself down. Walking almost fast as he bumped into his fellow— no.

There was only one devotee of you. And that was Jeon Jungkook.

Your biggest fan. Your biggest supporter. Your only lover.

Oh! How heart was shaking in his chest. “Please welcome the fantastic Y/N L/N!!!” His heart stopped.

You— You walked in all your glory. He covered his mouth as his eyes widened at you. You were here!!! You were finally here.

You finally came for him. After such agonising wait... you were finally closer to him.

“Excuse me sir.. can you stop shaking?” His eyes averted to the random person sitting beside him. Jungkook simply rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, shitface.” He spoke in a cold tone. And looked ahead.

Where you sat. Just right infront of his eyes. A huge love dazed smile started creeping up on his doll like features.

God you are so ethereal.

Were you real? His breath hitches in his throat the more he stared at your face.

His computer couldn’t/never ever did justice to your actual beauty.

He was going to sue the computer company.

It wasn’t really the first time that he was seeing you, oh no. He saw you a long time ago. When you had just debuted as a lead singer of the group.

He knew you the longest, and the most.

Actually more than your own self. Your favourite colour, your every single group EP. Your singles. Your group comebacks, your favourite drinks, your favourite chocolate brand, your favourite clothing, makeup brands. Your favourite bubblegum flavours, your favourite artists, the languages you could speak, your address, your house structure, your car. Your past relationships. Secret or not.

He bit his lip so hard that it started to bleed at the thought of your past relationships. The metallic taste on his tongue, the taste he was so familiar with.

...how could you date someone else? When he was there? How dare you. It was the most horrifying time of his life.

Crying day and night, not eating, tearing everything apart.

Trying to hate you.

But he couldn’t. He could never bring himself to hate you.

“Umm. You know, it’s your turn now...” the weirdo from before spoke again. But this time Jungkook smiled brightly. “Y-Yes!” He quickly stood up and fixed his outfit.

It was his turn now!!! He walked with excitement. HE HAD BEEN WAITING FOR THIS FOR SO LONG.

Admiring you from afar was pure torture.

“Hello mr!” You smiled sweetly. Your eye smile making his heart do so many flips.

God he could kiss you right now!

He really could...

“H-Hi” He meekly replied... getting lost in your beauty. As you signaled to sign his album. His gaze never left your lips.

“I-I love you!!! I love you so much.” He confessed suddenly as you giggled while signing his album. “ aw really? I’m so happy that you do. I love you too.” You replied sweetly.

“What’s your name mr?” You looked up at him. Waiting for his response but he just went silent. he looks weirdly fit, familiar… those tattoos.

You asked again, to the tattooed man, sweetly patiently. when he didn’t reply, just waited for a few moments and that’s when you started noticing his features.

He’s pretty attractive

However, your trail of thoughts was cut short when he grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

Gasps were heard as your eyes widened in shock, your brain taking in the situation as he moaned in your mouth. His hands grabbed your face tightly.

You tried to push him away, the security tried too but he didn’t budge.

His dark hair was all you could see, when you felt his tongue licking your lips. “Mphm!!!” You tried to push him away but again... no use.

He kissed you like starved man. And after what felt like eternity he finally pulled away.

You stared at him in shook, while he just licked the lipgloss from his lips. “I’m Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” He finally introduced himself.

And your heart stopped. “W-What?!” You stuttered as flashbacks hit you. He just smirked in response.

“You can’t be!” You exclaimed again. “Y-You’re that Sasaeng?!!” You shivered in fear.

Jungkook just giggled. The infamous Y/N L/N’s crazy fan. No. Crazy was an underestimate. He was sickly, dangerously obsessed.

The only one who could do anything for you. “The one and only, my love.”

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riizegasm · 9 months ago

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Impure Intentions || L. CY (Anton)

❀ pairing: chaebol heir!anton x rival!reader, implied fem!reader

❀ genre: enemies to lovers (but not really), fluff, suggestive

❀ word count: ~6.7k

❀ warnings: explicit language, mentions of dysfunctional families, one heated kiss scene

❀ summary: From the day you were born, all you ever heard was, “don’t fall in love with Anton Lee.” A better heir to a multimillion dollar conglomerate would follow their family’s advice. But you…not so much.

❀ a/n: sheesh, talk about writer’s block. This work has taken me so long and so much effort, but i'm very proud of how it turned out! It may have even helped me out of my slump. Also, please don’t judge me too hard. I know nothing about business and corporate families!!! As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are strongly encouraged. Happy reading!

Your head aches. The lights in the banquet hall are too bright and the clink of gilded silverware is too loud. Polite chatter buzzes around you like a pesky fly evading a swatter. The air is suffocating, overly stuffy with high end perfumes and colognes clouding the space. This is torture; the Lee family banquets always are.

It would be better if you could enjoy the food or engage with the various guests like everyone else does, but this is enemy territory. Your family had made it abundantly clear that this was not an event for fun, but rather for scoping out the competition. Lectures about a corporate acquisition going south and details about poor contracting simply entered in one ear and left via the other. You didn’t care why you had to be there. The knowledge of your forced attendance did enough to damper your mood, especially once you were hit with all of the rules around your presence.

Sit still, look pretty, smile politely, eavesdrop on any corporate plans, and don’t talk to Anton Lee.

You never understood your family’s obsession with keeping you away from him, the prized son and heir of the Lee empire. Everyone made sure to fill your mind with negative opinions and baseless rumors about the young man, as if to deter you from even giving him a chance. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however. You’ve never even seen the man, let alone had a conversation with him. Anton Lee was much more of a mythical being than he was a person, in your eyes. He was always whispered about, but never seen.

From what you gathered, he was around your age, tall, broad, and supposedly extremely handsome. He was known for his overly harsh demeanor, rumored to command a room with a simple word. His presence apparently spoke volumes, enough to speak to his blunt nature and bad intentions. It made sense, your parents would always say. After all, he is a Lee.

“Fix your face, honey,” your mother snaps with a forced smile. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles before you turn thirty if you keep scowling like that.”

It takes everything in you to fight an eye roll, biting back the string of expletives waiting on the tip of your tongue. “Sorry. I’m going to run to the powder room.”

You don’t bother to wait for her response before excusing yourself from the cocktail table, getting lost in the crowds of people as you head towards the bathroom. Away from your family, the air feels somewhat lighter, although it still reeks of entitlement. The throb in your head is insistent now, forcing you to escape to find relief.

You find yourself heading towards a set of grandiose double doors, hoping they will lead you anywhere but here. Luckily, your prayers are answered as you step through them onto a stone balcony. The crisp nighttime air does wonders to cool your heated skin, a slight breeze ruffling the loose fabric of your dress.

This is exactly what you needed, space and solace.

“Rough night?”

A soft voice makes you jump out of your skin, whipping your head around to find the source. Its owner leans up against the exterior wall, somewhat bathed in shadow. All you can make out is a glimmer of white teeth, reflecting the moonlight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the figure apologizes, taking a small step forward into the light.

You feel your breath stutter in your chest as you take in the man. The first thing you notice is his sheer beauty, lips enticingly full and nose broad. His beauty is complemented by his tall stature, the height difference between you two becoming increasingly apparent as he approaches. Like this, bathed in the moonlight, it’s impossible not to notice the broadness of his shoulders and how they taper into a small waist. He fills out his all black suit beautifully, the garments clearly tailored to his every curve.

“Are you alright?” The man asks, stopping only a few feet away.

The concern in his tone is just enough to snap you out of your reverie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, um, needed some air.”

The man nods in understanding, leaning over to place his forearms against the balcony’s railing. You struggle not to eye the way his suit jacket stretches across an impossibly wide back. Instead, you mirror his stance, looking out at the beautiful gardens below, bathed in silvery moonlight. Just beyond the seemingly endless maze of hedges, you can make out what looks like a small lake, it’s surface rippling under the nighttime breeze.

“It can be stuffy in there,” the man says softly.

You find yourself hanging onto his every word, shocked that such a mild tone could come from such an intimidating man. “Yeah, it really can be.”

The man lets out a small chuckle, no doubt amused by your clear annoyance. “So I take it you’re not in the business.”

“No, I’m–,” you pause for a moment, not sure how much of your identity you should reveal to the stranger. “I’m related.”

He chuckles again, this time turning to look at you. “Hm, I guess I could say the same for me, then.”

A round of applause sounds from somewhere inside, and you curse under your breath, knowing your family will kill you for your absence. The man next to you seems unphased, as if he’s used to the party going on without him.

“I think I should get back.”

The man flashes you a smile, its brightness almost blinding in the dark. “That’s okay. It was nice chatting with you…”

“Y/N. And you are?”

“Anton,” he whispers. “I hope I can see you again, Y/N.”

An icy chill travels up your spine, momentarily freezing you in place. But you force yourself to remain composed, plastering a smile on your face. You silently thank your years of etiquette training and the countless social events you have had to smile for. With a slight nod of your head, you disappear back through the double doors, instantly choking on the scent of Chanel No. 5.

. . .

It’s easy to believe that your first encounter with Anton Lee would be your last, especially as the weeks pass without a single sign of him. It makes sense that he wouldn’t start making regular appearances at events after attending just once. He has managed to spend twenty years staying out of the spotlight, and you can’t imagine that changing now.

But, for some reason, you can’t help but search for him in the crowd of every gala or at the tables of any grandiose banquet.

He would be easy to spot, with his overwhelming height and dazzling smile. Maybe his honey brown hair would be slicked back off his forehead this time, or maybe it would hang in front of his eyes to conceal his bright gaze. You’re sure that he would still talk in that overly soft tone of his, somehow managing to command a room without a change in volume.

Even his absence begins to feel like a presence in and of itself, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You tell yourself that it’s simple intrigue and nothing more. The first time you had ever laid eyes on your supposed family nemesis had been on a balcony bathed in the moonlight. Where had he been all these years?

More importantly, why had he disappeared again?

The question runs through your mind as you accept a flute of champagne from a waiter, eyes flitting around the charity dinner in hopes of spotting a specific someone. Somewhere near the front of the banquet hall, the Lee family is seated at a table with a few other wealthy families, but their oldest son is nowhere to be found.

You crane your neck to get a better look. Just to be sure, you tell yourself. But the contorting you force yourself to do has you leaning right back into a waiter, your elbow knocking into his empty tray. The sudden movement has your champagne flute slipping out of your grasp, icy bubbles splattering across your chest and down the front of your dress. You can practically feel the daggers that your mother is shooting you from across the table, always having scolded you about the embarrassment that comes along with being a klutz. Before she can part her lips to tell you off, you excuse yourself politely, dashing out to find a restroom to freshen up.

You let your heeled feet carry you through a maze of hallways, side stepping waiters and party guests as you move further and further away from the event space. It’s only when you travel down a flight of stairs that you find yourself a seemingly private restroom, briefly stepping inside to clean yourself up. No matter how much you dab at the stain in the center of your bust, the wine doesn’t seem to budge. You thank the heavens that it was champagne instead of a red, saving you some degree of embarrassment.

After a few minutes in the restroom, you find yourself wandering around, ending up in a much more secluded lounge space, equipped with a couple of couches surrounding a coffee table. You immediately collapse onto one, sighing as the ache in your feet finally lifts.

It’s only then that you feel your eyes begin to sting, a familiar rush of heat striking your face as a lump begins to form in your throat. The sticky sweet smell of champagne still clings to your body, your dress uncomfortable where the alcohol seeped into it. You’re sure that you look a mess, knowing that tear smudged makeup would be the last thing to complete your disheveled look.

“Another rough night?”

The soft rasp of a voice instantly has you perking up, breath caught in your throat as you take in the tall figure approaching you. His crisply pressed suit hugs his broad shoulders and cinches at an impossibly small waist. His lips are quirked upwards into a small smirk, clearly teasing. Something about it is enticing, setting off a stampede in your stomach.

“How could you tell?” You mumble, trying not to stare as Anton settles into a lounge chair across from you.

The man’s smirk just deepens. “Wild guess. What happened?”

“I spilled champagne on myself and now I look a mess.”

“You don’t,” Anton states, smirk dropping from his face. “You could never look bad.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “How would you even know that? You’ve only seen me twice.”

Anton chuckles, finally relaxing into the plush of his chair. His legs separate ever so slightly at the action, allowing you to admire his mile-long legs. It’s almost frustrating, how perfect he looks. You imagine that if anyone never looks bad, it’s him.

“I’ve seen you way more than twice, Y/N.”

The simple statement has you turning your eyes away from his figure, meeting his open gaze. He seems so casual, so unbothered, as if that one sentence hasn’t turned your world upside down.

“Wait, what?” You find yourself tripping over your words in the rush to get them out. “Wh-what do you mean you’ve seen me more than twice? I only met you the first time at that contracting dinner a few weeks ago.”

Anton chuckles again, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “Yeah, that was the first time we’ve met, but I’ve seen you so many times. You and your family have been at every major event since we were kids. How could I not see you?”

“But, I’ve never–,”

“I know,” Anton interrupts. “I like to stay outside or in whatever lounge areas I can find. These things always make me really anxious.”

Wow, you didn’t expect such an honest admission from a man of Anton’s status. If anything, his candor makes him much more attractive, as if he could get even more perfect.

“You know we’re supposed to hate each other?” He asks, a small smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Apparently you’re my rival in the field, and I’m supposed to hate everything you say and do.”

Unfortunately, you know the feeling, causing you to let out a small giggle. “Oh trust me, I know. Do you, though?”

“Hate you?”

You nod, fighting a smile as Anton pretends to think.

“Nah,” he eventually answers. “My grandfather taught me from a very young age that I should never harbor negative feelings for beautiful women.”

The implication has heat rushing to your face, forcing you to struggle to keep your composure. “Well, my family has always told me that attractive men always have impure intentions.”

Anton chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He takes a beat before standing, letting his eyes rake over your still seated figure as he begins to retreat down the hallway. It’s impossible to decipher where the intensity of his gaze stems from. He eyes you as if he were hungry, trapping you against the couch with his stare alone.

“Then let me show you just how impure my intentions are.”

The man is gone with little more than a wink and a smile, leaving you with warm cheeks and the scent of champagne clouding your nose.

. . .

You’re surprised to see Anton as soon as the next event, only three weeks later. It’s a simple charity ball for some rare disease research, but for some reason, Anton has decided not to hide in the shadows for this event. It’s interesting to watch how despite his supposed anxiety, he is clearly in his element. He greets everyone kindly, shooting various guests a charming smile as he is introduced to them. His father looks proud of him, a hand kept clapped over his shoulder the entire time.

You wonder if he’s comfortable like this, with a blur of people and faces constantly passing by him. However, you are instantly snapped out of your wondering when a manicured hand grips your shoulder. The feeling of your mothers lips close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine, a perpetually bad omen.

“Straighten up,” she scolds. “We’re going over to talk to the Lees. Their son is making a public appearance at an event like this for the first time. No funny business.”

You would laugh if not for the uncomfortable way her nails dig into your shoulder. It forces you to instantly fall in line behind your father, taking a deep breath as you get closer to the Lees. What is only a few seconds feels like hours until you finally stand face to face with your supposed rival.

“Yoon Sang, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” your father greets, shaking the hands of the head of the Lee family.

He even leans in to place a friendly kiss on Mrs. Lee’s cheek. You find yourself standing frozen in place as the parents exchange greetings, unable to do anything but stare at the man before you. He sports his signature charming smile, mouth full of perfectly white teeth on display. Not for the first time, you feel your face grow warm.

“We thought it was about time for our Y/N to meet Anton. After all, they will be competitors when they take over the respective businesses, right?”

Your father’s comment snaps you back to attention. However, you are immediately distracted by the feeling of Anton’s large hand engulfing yours, his palm both warm and surprisingly soft to the touch. You have to glance upwards to meet his eyes, but it’s impossible to miss the amused glint in his stare.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I have heard so much about you.”

You force a smile on your face. “The pleasure is all mine.”

It’s easy to tune out the conversation after that, letting the adults blabber on while you reminisce about the feeling of Anton’s hand in yours. The man seems to be similarly distracted, clearly eyeing your figure. The silence between you speaks volumes, and you hope your parents are too deaf to hear it.

“We would love to have Anton over at our headquarters sometime,” your mother suggests, her piercing voice rising above the noise of the ball. “I’m sure Y/N would be happy to show him around!”

You don’t even have time to process the full body panic that begins to overcome you before Anton’s family is readily agreeing.

“I agree that it would be great for them to know the ins and outs of the business,” Mr. Lee replies with an overly saccharine smile. “We would love to have Y/N over for lunch at the estate as well. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find themselves to be friends.”

Your dad chuckles, obviously disgusted by the thought. “You’re so right. The two might even do a merger some day!”

As the group erupts into phony laughter, you feel the beginnings of a migraine tingling behind your left eye. Something about the cacophony of laughs and the dull classical music is making you ache, your stomach starting to swim with nausea. You dare a glance upward, fighting the pain that blooms in your head with the motion.

Anton’s gaze is bright where it meets yours, a soft smile poised on his full lips. His cheeks are dusted with a slight blush, clearly flustered by the implications. There’s a slight fidget in his fingers, twirling expensive rings as a means of soothing himself.

He’s cute, you realize, not for the first time.

It’s only after a few more moments that the families say goodbye, the Lees promising to send a lunch invitation soon. Anton shoots you another smile before he follows behind his family, suddenly looking small despite his large stature. You can’t help but smile as you watch his departure, suddenly realizing that your migraine has disappeared.

. . .

The Lee estate is just as gorgeous as you expected it to be, with tall stone gates and artfully placed landscaping. It looks impossibly large from where you’re seated in the car, causing nerves to begin to creep up your spine. You pass off the butterflies that begin to flutter in your core as obvious intimidation that comes with being on the property of your family’s biggest rivals. It surely has nothing to do with an overly soft voice, broad shoulders, and kind eyes.

“Remember,” your mother had told you before sending you off. “This is business. Reveal nothing and absorb everything. And most importantly, remember that Anton Lee is not your friend.”

You take a step out onto the perfectly paved driveway, surprised to already see someone standing by the door. Anton seems to perk up when you lock eyes, shooting you a polite smile. His wave betrays his excitement, though. You imagine that if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging.

“Y/N, hey! I’m glad you actually came.”

“Please,” you shoot him a cheeky smile. “As if I could ever turn down an invitation from the Lee family.”

Anton lets out a slight groan. “Don’t remind me that this is ‘business.’”

“Well then what would you like for me to call it?”

Anton shrugs, turning to hold the front door open for you. It’s only when you pass through the threshold, Anton still standing behind you that he responds.

“A lunch date.” Before you have the chance to respond, Anton is shutting the door behind you both. “Come this way. Food’s on the patio.”

It takes a few turns down intricate hallways to get to a set of double doors that lead to the patio. As promised, there’s an assortment of sandwiches and salad laid out on a round table, two seats set across from each other. You would be impressed, if not for the even more stunning view that lay before you.

The patio looks out on sprawling gardens, tall bushes and blooming flowers swaying softly in the breeze. A little beyond the landscaping, a wooden dock leads out to a large pond, its greenish-blue water seemingly sparkling under the midday sun.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe out, unable to take your eyes off the sight before you.

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? My parents have always had an affinity for water.”

You imagine that all of their properties have pools or lakes, much like this one. Meanwhile, your own family prefers the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle, never expanding beyond brutalist modern penthouses in the tallest apartment buildings in the city. It must be nice, you imagine, to have a space that feels like a home and not just another office.

Eventually, the two of you sit, settling into a comfortable silence as you distribute food amongst yourselves. It’s quite amusing to watch Anton as he eats, clearly possessing the hunger of a growing young man while forcing himself to take small bites and practice the etiquette of an heir. You wonder if you look the same, so obviously restrained while you want to let loose, if only for a bit.

Despite the fact that you haven’t seen another person since you set foot in the Lee estate, you know that people must be somewhere. There are always eyes on you.

“I’m surprised that your family was so adamant about having me over,” you begin, settling back in your chair. “I thought I was the enemy.”

Anton smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well you know what they say. Keep the enemy close and all that.”

“Is that what you want to do? Keep me close?”

You know you’re treading in dangerous waters. All it would take is one word about the obvious flirting to Anton’s parents for you to become your family’s disgrace. You can practically see the headline now: Conglomerate Heiress Gets Rejected By Rivals’ Son. Your family would disown you. And yet, as color begins to flood Anton’s cheeks, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Yeah,” he says, voice coming out even softer than usual. “I think that is what I want to do.”

You duck your head, clearing your throat in an attempt to settle the flutter in your stomach. “I’d like that.”

A sudden interest in lunch leaves both of you munching away in silence. It’s peaceful, despite blushing cheeks and racing heartbeats. It allows you to realize that being around Anton is unlike being around anyone else in your family’s circle. Here, there’s no pressure to be prim and proper, no pressure to listen out for secret ins and outs of business.

It’s odd to find comfort in the one person who is supposed to bring you anything but. And yet, with the warmth of the sun on your face and the pleasant fullness in your belly, you’ve never felt more at home.

“You know,” Anton starts once you have both cleared your plates. “I think we’re supposed to be talking about business.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Can I be honest?”

Anton nods slightly, honey brown hair shifting across his forehead.

“The business is the last thing I want to talk about.”

Anton smiles. “Trust me, I feel the same way.”

There’s a beat of silence, the two of you content to simply sit as the breeze ruffles the flowers that dot the landscape. When Anton speaks again, you watch his mouth, noting the way that his lips hold the same hue of the red tulips in the nearby flower bed.

“Can I show you something?”

The simple question has your gaze flickering back upwards, trying to ignore the way your heart races when his eyes meet yours.

“Sure,” you whisper, words instantly carried away by the wind.

Following behind Anton through the grass proves to be harder than you imagined, his long legs allowing him to move with a grace and speed that is difficult to match. He leads you in between a maze of flower beds, bringing you deeper into the garden until you’re surrounded by tall hedges on either side. From here, it’s impossible to see the house, so you just continue to follow behind Anton. You find yourself eyeing the broadness of his shoulders and the way his shirt shifts across the muscles of his back as he walks. It’s hypnotizing, so much so that you don’t realize that you have arrived at your destination.

“This is my thinking spot,” Anton says with a little flutter of his arms, clearly trying to present the space to you.

The hedge maze has opened up to a small central pocket, not housing much except for a small fountain and a stone bench. Anton is quick to take a seat, motioning for you to occupy the space next to him. It’s a bit of a squeeze, putting you and Anton close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin on your own. You dig your nails into the stone of the bench, hoping that it will steel your nerves.

“I like to come out here when my parents get in my head about the business. It’s pretty peaceful.”

“Yeah,” you say softly, despite knowing that no one is within earshot. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it really is.”

There’s an airiness to Anton’s voice that has you turning to face him. You take in a sharp inhale when you notice that his eyes are already on you, the close proximity leaving your faces mere inches away from each other. The overwhelming rush of blood in your ears forces you to turn away, taking a deep breath to calm your thundering heartbeat.

“You take all the girls here?” You aim for teasing, but the slight break in your voice makes it err more on the side of desperation.

Anton shakes his head earnestly. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here who isn’t my family.”

The admission feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Except there’s no pain, just a rush of warmth that climbs up your throat like ivy. Anton is clearly surprised as well, his own words deepening the pretty flush that has taken hold on his cheeks. His bottom lip is trapped by his teeth, its plushness oh so enticing in the afternoon sun.

“Y-you know,” you stutter out, swallowing thickly before continuing. “When you said you had impure intentions, I thought you were joking.”

“I don’t think I could joke about how bad I want you.”

It should feel like a corny line. It should feel like something he says to all the girls. After all, he’s Anton Lee. He could get anyone he wanted at the drop of a hat. So why does it feel so real when he says it to you? Why does it feel like those words are meant for you, and only you?

Anton’s gravity is pulling you closer, allowing you to lean further into his space. You’re close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, coming out in gentle puffs that reveal just how fast his heart is racing. He has released his bottom lip by now, leaving it glossy with saliva. It’s impossible not to anticipate the smooth glide of it against your own.

A sudden vibration snaps you both out of your bubble, the two of you popping apart as if you were repelling magnets. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the vibration is coming from your own phone, buzzing incessantly. You shoot Anton an apologetic look before stepping away to take the call.

“We need you back home,” your mother rushes from the other side of the line, not bothering to waste time greeting you. “Your father wants to hear about your business with the Lees before he heads to his strategy meeting in an hour.”

“But the Lee house is thirty minutes away!”

You can practically hear your mother’s eye roll over the phone. “Then you better get going.”

. . .

Business meeting, my house at 4pm?

The text comes as both a surprise and the most expected invitation in the world. In your flurry to leave his house the week before, you had made sure to leave the man with your number. In turn, he smiled wide, promising to invite you over for another “business meeting” soon.

Before you can inquire about how much business will actually be necessary to discuss, your phone buzzed again.

My parents just left for a business trip to Milan.

A flutter rushes through your stomach at the implications. It’s clear what that means, that the two of you will finally have a chance to act on your chemistry without the watchful eyes of competitive families. The two of you will finally get to exist as your own people, and not as rivals and heirs of major global conglomerates.

The thought alone has you spending extra time on your appearance as you get ready. You make sure your hair sits just right and that your lips are perfectly glossy before pulling on a swimsuit and heading over. You try your best to remain as still as possible during the entire ride there, knowing that nerves in combination with the late summer heat will be enough to set you aflame.

Your heart is slamming in your chest by the time you finally pull into Anton’s driveway. It’s accompanied by a soft flutter of affection when you spot Anton’s figure, waving at you from the doorway. The wide smile on his face alone is enough to melt you. But the relaxed fit of his muscle tee and the way his swim shorts sit low on his hips has your face flooding with heat.

He greets you with a tight hug when you cross the threshold into the house. You try not to swoon at the firm pressure of his arms around your torso, ignoring the heat of his bare skin on your own. Anton had never touched you before, not beyond a simple handshake exchanged in front of parents, always respectful to a fault. For the first time, you find yourself grateful for that fact, knowing that now that you’ve had a taste of his touch, you will forever be addicted.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Anton gushes. “My parents have been really getting on my nerves about business and competition lately.”

“So you decided to invite the competition over to chill?”

Anton smiles, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “No, I invited the competition over to swim!”

So that’s why he reminded you to wear a bathing suit mere minutes before you left for his house. It makes sense, from the minimal texts that the two of you exchanged. Anton was always excited about the balanced heat of late summer, citing it as the perfect time for a lakeside swim. You wouldn’t know, of course, never having the luxury of having a lake in your backyard.

“What about your staff?”

“I let everyone have the afternoon off,” Anton responds proudly before letting his smile sink into something softer, more private. “I just wanted us to have some time alone.”

The simple admission rings out loudly in the otherwise quiet house. It’s clear how badly Anton wants this, how bad he wants your company despite the taboo that comes with it. Unsurprisingly, you find yourself wanting it just as bad, if not more. You’ve never craved anyone’s presence the way you have craved Anton’s, despite him being the one person in the world that you supposedly need to keep your distance from.

A small nod on your end is enough for Anton’s smile to grow once again, pearly whites on full display as his eyes wrinkle at the corners. The sight alone has your heart beating a little harder in your chest, the minor flutter in your abdomen growing into a full stampede of emotions. The feeling only intensifies as Anton engulfs your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he leads you out into the backyard.

The late afternoon sun sparkles against the water, illuminating everything in a blue-yellow glow. It’s the most captivating sight for miles, you’re sure, until Anton begins to take his shirt off. The way his muscles shift under his unblemished skin rivals the beautiful surface of the lake, sparkling in its own way. His shoulder blades dance across his back enticingly as he leans down to remove his socks and shoes.

He shoots you a smile over his shoulder before cannonballing right into the water.

It takes only a few seconds for the man to reemerge, slicking his honey brown hair off of his forehead. His biceps bulge with the movement before waving you into the water. It’s as clear of a signal as any, but you can’t help but hesitate, suddenly shy at the thought of stripping down to your bikini in the presence of such a man. But the delicate reflection of sunlight in his eyes and the easy smile on his face is enough to draw you in.

Before you know it, you’re discarding your clothes, taking a running head start to join Anton in the water.

Your skin is submerged in an icy chill, the water surprisingly cool for so late in the day. But soon the warmth of another body is nearing, making the cold that much more bearable. You resurface with a giggle, giddy from the feeling of swimming so long. Instantly, Anton is joining in, clearly happy seeing you filled with such glee.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” You exclaim, shrieking when Anton splashes a bit of water your way.

“It’ll get better,” Anton grins. “You just gotta keep swimming.”

It’s easy to do as told, letting your body relax as you continue to wade in the cool water. Eventually you let yourself fall into your back, feeling the contrast between the warm sun on your face and the cool water surrounding your body. It’s serene, allowing you to let your worries quite literally float away. However, the feeling of a chilled hand grazing your hip is enough to snap you out of your relaxation, scrambling to right yourself in panic.

“Sorry!” Anton chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just getting bored without you.”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, finding that the pace of your heart is beginning to quicken for an entirely different reason.

Anton looks especially beautiful like this, with his damp hair splayed messily across his head and drops of water dripping down his face. The sun has just begun to set, painting Anton’s skin with a beautiful golden hue. His eyes glisten just like the water, sunlight sparkling as it dances across the reflective surfaces. Like this, Anton seems so bright, so luminous, that hating him seems impossible.

“I’m really glad you came today,” Anton says, his voice dropping to that soft shy tone he always uses in the presence of others. “I’m glad to have someone who gets what it's like.”

You can’t resist the smile that begins to tug on the corners of your mouth. “You’re not just saying this to get my family’s business secrets?”

Anton huffs out a laugh. “No. I’m saying this because I really like you. I like spending time with you, even though I’m supposed to hate it.”

With every word, you find yourself drifting closer to the man, his hand remaining steady on your hip as you tread lightly. Despite the obvious effort to keep your head above water, you feel like you’re drowning. But the slick feeling of Anton’s skin against yours reminds you that you won’t drown. Anton won’t let you.

“I like you, too.”

The simple admission has Anton’s face flushing, the pretty rose color glistening orange in the light. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. You hate to dull his beauty in this moment, but you have to.

“But what about our families? It’s not like the two of us can ever be anything.”

Anton sighs, his face dropping with realization. “I know, but…is it crazy to say that I don’t care?”

The hand on your hip tightens, pulling you even closer into Anton’s space. It’s close enough that the two of you end up bumping knees every so often, constantly moving to keep yourselves afloat. Here, in his space, you can see the way that his lashes cast subtle shadows on his cheeks. It’s easy to count the few moles that pepper his face and neck, sitting stark upon unblemished skin.

When his eyes meet yours, it becomes clear what you wish to do. No, what you need to do.

“Anton,” you whisper. “What did you mean when you said you had impure intentions?”

The man moves to open his mouth, but before he can get the first syllable out, you cut him off.

“Don’t tell me,” you coo. “Show me.”

You would be lying if you said you never thought about the feeling of Anton’s plush lips on yours. In reality, you spent too many nights lying awake, thinking about the slick feel of his mouth on yours, of the way his large hands would feel clutching onto your body, of the feel of his soft brown strands underneath your fingertips.

But dreams never compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to the pure bliss of having Anton’s mouth slide against your own. He moves fervently, letting the kiss carry the twinge of desperation that you both have felt since you’ve met. It’s far from the polite way that you expected Anton Lee to kiss, but that makes it that much better.

His nose grazes your cheek as he tilts his head, angling himself to kiss you deeper. His tongue is warm as it eases its way into your mouth, the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill of the lake. The hand that was once grasping your hip travels down to your backside and thigh, lifting you up to wrap yourself around his waist. It’s improper, at the very least, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Anton sighs softly into your mouth.

It feels like ages before the two of you part, chests heaving where they remain pressed together. You’re so close that you imagine that even water can’t exist between you two. Anton’s abdomen is solid where your core is pressed up against him, supporting your weight so that neither of you are at risk of sinking.

“That,” Anton whispers, “is what I meant by impure intentions.

You can’t help but giggle at the boy’s breathless tone, suddenly feeling giddy that you were the one to make him this way. You were the one to fluster the ever-perfect Anton Lee. It was you. It’s always been you.

“Our parents…” you mutter reflexively, your mind a war zone.

“Hey,” Anton coos, bringing a hand under your chin.

With just a gentle tilt, you meet his eyes, instantly getting lost in the way his gaze bores into yours. As if he can’t help himself, Anton leans in to place a quick peck on your lips. When you part, a soft whine escapes your lips, mourning the loss of your lover’s kiss.

“Y/N, we’ll figure it out. I won’t let this go south because of our parents.”

You nod nervously, trying your hardest to believe in the reassurance that Anton is trying to provide you. As if he could sense the residual nerves, Anton presses his lips against your forehead in a soft kiss. The sensation makes your eyes flutter shut, a content smile beginning to grown on your face. After a brief moment, Anton chuckles.

“Who knows?” He mutters. “Maybe our parents will get that merger after all.”

. . .

[8 years later]

BREAKING NEWS: Lee Enterprises and TOTAL, Inc. have announced a historic merger to form one mega-corporation. This announcement comes one year after CEO and President of Lee Enterprises, Anton Lee, and Chairperson of TOTAL, Inc., Y/N Y/L/N, announced their marriage. The new multinational conglomerate will be known as Lakeside, LLC, and is said to have a current stock value of over five billion dollars.

.FIN.

#anton imagines #riize imagines #riize #anton lee #riize fluff #riize smut #written in the stars

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 8 months ago

Text

Fire on Fire

Aegon Targaryen x Reader (Rhaenyra's daughter)

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘

𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 '𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉

𝑰'𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Description: While Rhaenyra's sons all bear a striking semblance to Harwin Strong with their brown locks, her daughter and Jace's twin sister Y/N was blessed with resplendant silver hair. Aegon and Y/N spent their chidlhoods together in the walls of the Red Keep, with friendship slowly blossoming into young love. Despite the animosity between their mothers, they can't help being drawn to one another.

Part 2 Part 3

Writer's note: Hiiiii! Victoria here. Been thinking about starting an Aegon story for a while as Elizabeth secretly adores his character so here it is. It's going to start out from when they were children and go into their adulthood. Cyvasse is a strategical game akin to chess in westeros, it's not actually brought to the capital until the events of Game of Thrones but I'm including it anyway.

Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for the dividers.

Warnings: female reader, targcest (reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and Aegon's niece). Aged up characters. Aegon is 16 at this point and reader is 15. They're pretty mean to each other at first. Sort of rivals/frenemies to lovers to enemies vibes 😂 Lengthy.

Aegon couldn't place the discomforting feeling stirring within him as he watched Y/N flirt with a guard. It was not like he hadn't seen her do so before, indeed she seemed to find it endlessly entertaining. But now as he watched her lean towards the guard and incline her head so she could lower her voice to a whisper, as if they were sharing a secret, he felt his stomach twist and his face heat. He clenched his fist though he knew not why he felt suddenly furious with both Y/N and the lowly guard she'd deigned to gift her favour. She was a princess and the guard was beneath such attentions, surely that must be the cause of his frustration.

But that did not feel sufficient for the intensity of his anger as Y/N batted her pretty eyelashes at the guard, which made him want to storm down the hall and forcibly shove the guard away from Y/N, made him want to take hold of her wrist and drag her away to spend her time with him instead. Aegon's brows furrowed at the unwelcome turn of his thoughts, when had he started to want Y/N's attentions? More importantly, when had he begun to think of her as pretty?

They'd grown up together in the Red Keep, always walking a thin line between friendship and rivalry. He couldn't remember a time when they weren't menacing or taunting one another, tripping each other in the halls or launching various missiles at each other across banquet tables. Never the studious one, for that prerogative fell to his brother Aemond, Aegon had spent his lessons entertaining himself by trying to distract Y/N. Each time the maester would turn his back, Aegon would be pulling faces in her direction. His own eyes would alight in victory every time she'd giggle in response, though he would always take the blame when the maester would scold them both. If she turned from him, steadfastly trying to ignore his antics he'd only resort to tugging on her hair and averting his gaze innocently as soon as she finally paid him attention, sighing exasperatedly at his inability to leave her alone. All the while, they'd been accomplices in all sorts of schemes that had their mothers and their Septa scrambling to keep them in line. To Aegon's pleasure, Y/N didn't much take to their lessons either, preferring romance novels Aegon always thought silly to the tales of old Valyria which preoccupied his brother Aemond and nephew Jacaerys. Instead, they'd slink off to the Godswood together, inventing ridiculous nicknames for courtiers or playing games of Cyvasse together. Aegon liked to play defensively, protecting his castles, whilst Y/N's strategy spoke to a fierceness in her character Aegon had always secretly enjoyed, sending forth her most powerful pieces to claim his, not caring a bit for caution.

Their shared penchant for troublemaking had only worsened as they matured. Aegon took to his cups, spending far more time drunk than was befitting of a Prince of the realm, or at least that's what his mother always told him. By contrast, as she grew in grace and beauty Y/N flirted with every young knight and courtier in the keep, much to Aegon's chagrin. He'd not know why his heart would seize each time he'd see Y/N smile at someone else, hear her laugh at a joke he hadn't told, all the while swishing her silver hair which seemed to shimmer and catch the light, in contrast to her brothers' muted brown locks. Aegon had felt deep down that this had always been a sign that Y/N was more like him, in the same way that she was a kindred spirit who always seemed to understand him and never wished for him to be anyone but himself. He could not say the same for his father or even his mother. Aegon remembered only a few moons past, Aemond had noticed the way Aegon felt before he himself had been aware of it. At a sight not unlike the one now before him, Aemond had surely borne witness to Aegon's shifting mood as Y/N placed her arm on a young noble's arm, the gangly wisp of a boy gazing at her with a dazed look and insipid smile. Aegon recalled wanting to storm over there and wipe it of the smug prick's face.

He was certain he'd stepped forward just as his brother's voice called him back from his violent thoughts.

"I think you feel for her brother."

At the time Aegon had reeled back, scoffing. "Her? Don't be ridiculous. She's a nightmare."

Aemond had sighed, bearing all the signs of an older brother offering wise counsel despite being the younger of the two. "You're both nightmares. That's why you like each other so much."

Aegon had just rolled his eyes, feeling uncomfortable with Aemond's penetrative stare and the growing feeling he might not be completely off the mark in his assessment.

Eyebrow raised, Aemond looked unconvinced by Aegon's attempts to dismiss the possibility of him having feelings for their niece.

"So if that nobleman over there suddenly got down on one knee and offered our niece his hand in marriage you'd just stand by and be content?"

Aegon felt his face contort with rage, heard the disgust in his voice.

"No, I'd kill him."

He couldn't account for the possessiveness that shot through him. The constant refrain of 'mine, my Y/N, mine' echoed in his mind like a prayer he'd learnt by heart. In some ways, the idea of Y/N belonging to him had been impressed upon him from a young age. Bemoaning that the two were always to be found together, complicit in some crime against decency or another, their Septa had often regaled them of the story of their first meeting. As the Septa would have it, but two years of age when the twins were born, Aegon had been largely unimpressed by his nephew Jacaerys but enchanted with the little silver haired baby, his niece. Supposedly, he had turned to his mother, grinning up at her to innocently ask her, "Mine?" Smiling tersely, he knew now due to his mother's complicated relationship with his sister Rhaenyra, she'd told him,"she will be a friend for you." That he and Y/N were tied together seemed to be reinforced each time she chose to direct her taunts and sharp tongue at him, each time she favoured his company over all others even if it was just to play some sort of prank on him. He shivered at the memory of her shoving a toad down his tunic as she ran off, her giggles merging with his screams at the slippery feel of the thing on his skin.

Gods, he didn't want anyone to marry Y/N because he wanted her. The realisation crashed upon Aegon like a wave and he stumbled back a few steps in shock. Quickly looking up to where Y/N had been only a few moments before he saw only an empty space where she had been. He must have been staring into space like a damn fool figuring out he was in love with his niece for longer than he thought.

Now that Aegon knew he bore romantic feelings for his niece, he found it difficult to even look at her and hardly knew how to act, leading to a series of embarrassing incidents.

Passing Y/N along a hall he'd stuck his foot out to trip her, as was their custom, but as she stumbled forward, he quickly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her upright. Y/N had stared up at him within the encasement of his arms, her brows furrowed in confusion. Tripping each other up had always just been a fun past time of theirs. Each bruise and scrape just motivation to get the upper hand on the other next time. But Aegon had never caught her before, nor held her to him like this.

"What in the Seven Hells, Aegon? Why bother tripping me if you were going to catch me two seconds later?"

Aegon had tried to feign confidence, shooting Y/N a cocky smirk, whilst trying hard not to focus on how right it felt to have his arms around Y/N's frame. "Mayhaps I just wanted to have you fall into my arms?"

Her jaw had fallen upon and she'd gawked at him for a few moments before bursting into laughter and pushing out of his hold, Aegon's arms falling limply back at his sides as his face heated in embarrassment.

On another occasion, he'd taken her hand to drag her along with him to the Godswood, a touch familiar and not strange in the slightest to her until he'd interlocked their fingers together. Aegon's heart had swelled at first when she did not retract her hand, allowing him to hold it in this way as he pulled her along. He'd been surprised at the pleasant feel of her soft hand melded with his and thought he should like to hold her hand more often. That was until they came across her brothers, and she promptly dropped his hand like he'd burned her, stirring a feeling of shame in Aegon at her rejection.

It hadn't stopped him from flopping onto her with a dramatic sigh, resting his head in her lap where she sat reading in the library.

"What brings you here? It's certainly not the books."

Aegon had scowled at her. "It could be."

Y/N huffed, placing a green ribbon in her book to mark her page before closing it to look at him fully. Good, he wanted her full attention.

"Aegon, it's a wonder you can read at all. So why are you clinging to me like a pet dog?"

Aegon turned away from her, resting his head back on her lap and reaching for her hand to entangle it in his hair. He mumbled against her skirts. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm tired and your lap is comfortable." He'd waited with baited breath for her reactjon to his sudden desire for closeness but he felt his heart stumble as she began to stroke his hair and he heard the turn of pages as she opened her book to read again. Of course she'd thrown him off her eventually, leaving her book behind. It was true, Aegon could rarely be found in the library, he'd sought Y/N out specifically. It was also true that he had no love of reading and had mercilessly mocked Y/N for her love of romance novels in their youth, misusing his height advantage to hold her books out of her reach as he read from them aloud to her great embarrassment. But now he found himself sitting down to peruse the book she had been reading, hoping to find within it's pages some wisdom of what Y/N found romantic.

He stumbled over his words so often now in her company and had been caught staring at her on so many occasions that Y/N had actually noticed his changed behaviour, pointedly asking for an explanation.

"What's got into you? You're being surprisingly nice to me, and I find it suspicious."

Aegon had feigned indignation, though he felt sweat begin to pool on his brow at how easily she could see through him. It was a particular skill of hers.

"I'm always nice to you."

Y/N had let out a laugh that was all hard edges. She wasn't soft or delicate like the other ladies of court. She was the blood of the dragon, fierce with sharp words and a sense of humour, which was sometimes a little cruel. And yet he preferred her over all others and would trade all of their simpering pleasantries for a single cutting remark of hers.

"Sure, it was very nice of you to push me in the fountain just as the embassy from the Vale arrived."

Aegon's ears and cheeks blazed at the memory of his own less than pleasant actions towards Y/N in the past.

"That was years ago. I haven't done it since. You just complained about me being too nice to you anyway. Which version of me do you want then?"

He'd surprised himself with the insecurity that laced his words as he raised his voice.

Mouth parted open at his outburst, Y/N's expression had quickly turned sombre, she was all seriousness now. "Whichever one is real."

Aegon frowned at that. He could admit they'd never been exactly kind to one another. And he could understand how his change in behaviour would seem suspicious if he were not in love with her. But he was. And he didn't know how to tell her.

Aegon yawned pointedly as Jacaerys called to his dragon Vermax. He was bored, indescribably so. He'd already claimed his own dragon, Sunfyre, whose golden scales could put any other dragon to shame. And if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to seem uncaring, impressive even to Y/N, who was watching Jacaerys attentively. He tried to repress a smile in anticipation of the 'surprise' he'd prepared for his brother with Jace, hoping Y/N would find it as funny as he did and think him clever for his denomination of the pig as 'The pink dread.'

His hopes were dashed almost as soon as the pig appeared. Aemond looked more put out by their jest than Aegon had anticipated and when he'd turn to Y/N to gauge her reaction he was surprised to find only anger and unshed tears in her eyes. As he took a step towards her their eyes locked and she immediately fled from the dragon pit. It took Aegon a few moments to collect himself to run after her, though he quickly caught up to her just outside the pit with his longer strides. Grabbing her arm to arrest her movement, he whipped her round to face him.

"What's wrong with you?"

He tried to conceal his genuine worry under a veil of irritation, but Aegon was so used to disappointing others, his mother, his father. He found it painful to imagine disappointing Y/N, who'd never expected anything from him but jibes and sometimes an accomplice.

Angrily shoving him away from her, causing him to stumble back a few steps, Y/N snarled at him.

"With me? What's wrong with you? Why would you embarass your brother like that? It's not his fault he doesn't have a dragon and you shouldn't tease him for it."

Aegon rolled his eyes, feeling a tinge of jealousy at Y/N's evident care for his brother.

"That's what you're annoyed about. My brother? Aemond's a twat, he'll get over it."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, fixing him with a look so stern it reminded him of their Septa.

"Do you not care who you hurt?"

Aegon's face fell. He didn't hurt people on purpose, he just wanted them to laugh at him. He'd never found another way to get their attention.

"What?" Aegon cursed himself for his inarticulate reply, knowing he sounded like an idiot.

"I don't have a dragon either. Would you shame me like that?" Y/N's voice sounded smaller and more unsure than Aegon had ever heard it, so used to her railing at him. He preferred when she was shouting at him, at least then he could pretend he hadn't hurt her. It hadn't occurred to him before that he could. She'd always seemed so strong to him, implacable no matter what he said or did. On her last nameday she'd been gifted an elegant emerald velvet dress by his mother that she'd twirled about in front of him, asking what he'd thought of it. When he'd told her he thought she looked ridiculous she'd only shrugged and continued twirling. Really he'd thought her beautiful, like some mythical forest creature. But insulting her had felt more natural than admitting as much to her. His words seemed to glide off her like water.

"No, never. Not to you." The words spilled out of his mouth in a panicked stream. He hadn't realised that her own dragon egg not hatching had affected her so deeply. In truth he'd not considered her feelings at all when devising his prank with her brother. He was so unused to considering anyone's feelings, least of all hers. She could give as good as he gave and often worse. He'd never seen her cry before and he found he hated it, even more than he despised to see the disappointment reflected in her eyes.

"Why?" Y/N looked genuinely curious at his answer and he frantically grasped for an explanation. He couldnt blurt out that he felt more for her than an uncle should a niece. That he loved her, unexpectedly, inexplicably. That he'd do just about anything to make her laugh instead of cry, but he was an idiot and sometimes couldn't tell the difference between a joke and an insult.

The sound of laughter as Jace and Luke rounded the corner saved him from replying as Y/N swiftly turned and left him standing there as her two brothers oinked obnoxiously.

Aegon didn't laugh with them, feeling the heavy weight of regret pressing down on him for the first time in his life.

Aegon sulked, hunched over his plate of food at supper, not caring to unpick the chatter around him. He glanced continuously over at the vacant place opposite him, usually reserved for Y/N. It provided the best vantage point to throw grapes at him, she had claimed. He'd clearly upset her so much she didn't even want to eat. Turning to Jacaerys he whispered lowly so the rest of his family wouldn't overhear. "Where's your sister?"

"I think she went back to the dragon pit."

Aegon's heart plummeted into his stomach and he stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. He didn't even glance back at his mother shouting for him as he sprinted in the direction of the dragon pit. He had a good idea of what might have prompted Y/N to go back there on her own. She'd nearly been devoured by the last dragon she'd tried to claim and he was quite certain she was about to try again, prompted by his teasing.

Aegon stumbled through the door of the pit out of breath and flipping his head around frantically looking for Y/N. The stupid girl would get herself killed. His shoulders sagged with relief as he spotted her not far off, just about to enter the cave where the dragons slept.

"Y/N!" He shouted to her, her head immediately snapping up at the sound of his voice, giving him the opportunity to catch up to her. Now he knew she was safe he couldn't help but be angry with her for her recklessness, her utter foolishness.

Taking hold of her elbows he shook her. "What in the Seven Hells were you thinking? Do you want to be killed?"

Shaking him off, Y/N glared at him fiercely.

"And why shouldn't I claim a dragon? It was you who shamed Aemond and I earlier for our inability to do so."

Aegon shut his eyes briefly, frustrated with Y/N but knowing that this was really his fault to begin with.

"I'm sorry OK? Just don't be angry with me...please."

Y/N was blinking up at him, her expression blank.

"Did you just apologise to me?"

Aegon gulped. He didn't want her to get too used to it. He might be in love with the girl but he didn't want to turn into one of those simpering lovesick morons she read about. Deep down, he didn't think she really wanted that either. She was much too combative, a rose with thorns, and they'd surely bore her to death. But she was just right for him.

"Look, I'll help you. But just damn well stay by me."

Y/N's eyes positively lit up at his offer of assistance, and Aegon felt a queer fluttering in his stomach as she smiled warmly at him. That was about as expected from her as an apology was from him.

"Truly?"

"Yes. But you mustn't show fear, and neither must you go barrelling in front of the first dragon you see. Take your time to observe the dragons and make your choice. Then approach the beast respectfully. Remember that the dragon has to choose you as well. Sunfyre and I bonded because we are alike in temperament. You must find a dragon to suit you in kind."

Y/N nodded her head excitedly, stepping forward to enter the cave but Aegon thrust his arm in front of her, stepping around her to enter first. "I'll go first."

He'd hoped Y/N would think him gallant but she'd just roughly shoved past him.

"You already have a dragon."

The dragon pit was dark, and even with the light of the torch Aegon carried, it was difficult to see more than a foot ahead. There was an eery silence about the place, interrupted only by the occasional rumble of a dragon. Aegon had reclaimed his position in front of Y/N, using the excuse that he had to lead with the torch to guide their path. As they ventured deeper into the darkness, the air grew more stifling, and puffs of smoke could be seen exuding from various caverns. Aegon sought his own dragon, Sunfyre, thinking that the best course would be to demonstrate how to approach a dragon to Y/N before she tried again.

Coming to an abrupt stop, Y/N smacked into his back and his laughter echoed against the walls of the pit.

He looked over to see her rubbing her nose and glaring at him accusingly.

"You did that on purpose."

Aegon smirked at her tauntingly.

"No, you just don't look where you're going."

Facing forward once more, Aegon looked into the vast expanse of darkness where he knew Sunfyre resided, he could feel it in his bones. It had filled him with pride when the dragon keepers had told his father that the bond between him and his dragon was particularly strong. But his father had brushed this off as if it were nothing. Aegon shouldn't have been surprised, he was used to being ignored by his father. And yet each slight still stung. He knew it bothered his mother how little his father cared for him, but nothing Aegon did had ever earned him any true affection from him. So he had simply stopped trying. If his father thought him a nuisance, then he would be one. If his Septa and the maesters thought him awful, then he would be. But at least in Sunfyre and Y/N he had found companions who had no desire to change him.

"Mazis Sunfyre." He inflected his voice with confidence, a command not to be ignored. No sooner had he spoken than he heard shuffling and flints of gold became visible through the darkness as Sunfyre emerged. He approached his dragon happily, smiling fondly as Sunfyre nuzzled his chest with his snout.

"Umbas, lykirri."

Reaching behind him and fumbling around in the dark for a moment, Aegon grabbed Y/N's hand and yanked her forward so she was beside him. He ignored her indignant huffed and placed her hand on Sunfyre's snout, resting his atop hers.

"Sunfyre heeds my commands because we are one in the same in every way that matters. When you approach your dragon, your commands must be steadfast and you must not show fear."

Y/N was looking at his dragon with awe, stroking Sunfyre's snout without his encouragement now. He'd never seen his dragon so amiable and friendly with anyone but himself. The sight sent a pleasant warmth through him at the thought of Sunfyre approving of Y/N, understanding the part of him that loved the silver haired girl before him.

"Let's go. I know which dragon I want to claim."

Aegon quirked an eyebrow up, half concerned half amused by the firm set of Y/N's features. She was quite determined.

"Is that so? Lead the way then, Quelos."

Y/N stared at him inquisitively, dropping her hand from Sunfyre.

"Quelos?"

Aegon thought the word befit his niece, her hair shone like the light of a star.

Shrugging, he tried to sound nonchalant.

"Your hair."

"Yours is silver like mine."

Aegon shook his head, smiling at Y/N's attempts to thwart him even in complimenting her, at expressing an ounce of affection for her with the nickname.

"Not like yours. Yours is like starlight."

He'd half expected her to argue with him, but the pink dusting on her cheeks, which he could see even in the darkness, was an unexpected delight. He felt pride in knowing that he'd been the one to make Y/N blush. Not one of the knights or noblemen Y/N was constantly flipping her hair at...him.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Y/N passed him, her arm brushing against his.

"Come on then."

Y/N led them down a path to their right, and he followed her as she wove down an adjoining tunnel. He knew then which dragon she wanted and felt strangely that there could have been no better choice.

It wasn't long before the tunnel opened up into a larger cavern and grey shimmering scales came into view as they approached the dragon known as Grey Ghost. In the glow of the torchlight the dragon's scales shone silver in a hue oddly reminiscent of Y/N's hair.

The dragon watched them curiously, tilting it's head in their direction and letting out a small puff of smoke from it's snout. Y/N darted forward, but Aegon grabbed hold of her arm, speaking lowly but firmly. "Be careful."

"I will."

Aegon released her but felt all of the muscles in his body tense as he watched Y/N approach the dragon. He knew that it was well known for having a reserved and shy nature for a dragon, but that did not make it any less dangerous.

He needn't have worried. The young dragon took little convincing and, within a short time, Y/N was petting its snout just as she had Sunfyre's. Aegon grinned at Y/N when she eventually stepped back from her dragon and returned to his side. He couldn't blame the dragon, Y/N had convinced him to take part in many a foolish scheme in less time.

"Well done, niece."

Aegon was stunned into silence as Y/N barrelled forward and wrapped her arms around his torso. He'd just gathered his senses enough to raise his own arms when she pulled away, cheeks blazing and eyes fixed on the ground. The journey back into the light was marked by an awkward silence that Aegon found hard to bear. He was grateful when Y/N broke it once they'd entered the walls of the keep.

"I bet you're devastated Grey Ghost didn't devour me."

Aegon grasped at the jibe as a return to normalcy for them.

"I'm certain it would have been entertaining, though difficult to explain to our mothers. Good morrow mother, sister. In an unfortunate turn of events, I may have let a dragon eat Y/N."

Y/N snorted.

"Right. Goodnight, Aegon."

"Goodnight, Quelos." Aegon wiggled his eyebrows at her teasingly before turning on his heels and heading in the direction of his quarters.

Aegon's heady felt heavy, as if it were laden with stones and even the blades of sunlight shining through his chamber windows hurt his eyes as he opened them blearily. No sooner had he done so than his bedroom door smacked loudly against the wall and his mother stormed in, her expression reminiscent of storm clouds. Gods knew what he'd done this time to warrant her ire.

"Aegon! It's well past noon and the maesters informed me you have not attended to any of your lessons. Of course I should find you still laying about."

Groaning at his mother's raised voice sent waves of pain through his skull, he rolled over, pressing his face more firmly into the pillows. He'd gone too far into his cups the previous night after seeing Y/N conversing with the same nobleman as before. Her flirtations had never been serious and he'd never seen her with the same boy more than once and he worried she might actually have developed feelings for someone this time...for someone that was not him.

"Aegon!" Suddenly the sheets were ripped from him as his mother demanded his attention. Sitting up lazily, Aegon turned to look at his mother properly, though this was difficult as there seemed to be two of her.

"What, mother?"

She threw her hands up with exasperation.

"Why must you always be like this, governed only by sloth and careless abandon? All the while cavorting with Jacaerys and Y/N Velaryon, favouring them over your own brother. Do you think I don't know of your cruel jokes at your brother's expense? We must defend our own, Aegon"

"It was funny."

"Do you think Rhaenyra's children will be your playthings forever. As things stand, Rhaenyra will ascend the throne and Jacaerys will be her heir."

Aegon couldn't understand what his mother was getting at. Why should he not get on with his sister's children?

His mother threw her eyes up to the sky, her frustration evident and her voice laced with sarcasm that just made him feel stupid.

"You are nearly a man grown. How is it that you can be so short-sighted? If Rhaenyra comes into power your very life could be forfeit, Aemond's as well. She could move to cut off any challenge to her succession."

Aegon had always been aware of the tension between his mother and sister, it was plain for anyone with eyes to see. But he couldn't belief Rhaenyra would have him killed. He did not think her cruel.

"So I will not challenge her."

His mother abruptly grabbed his face, shouting now.

"You are the challenge, Aegon. Simply by living and breathing." Aegon was stunned by the genuine fear and desperation in his mother's eyes but she must have taken his silence as a lack of understanding for she continued on.

"You are the king's firstborn son. And what everyone else in the kingdom knows is that by rights, you should be king." Aegon had never even considered the possibility. He had never and would never want the iron throne or the responsibilities that went with it.

"I would not wish for that mother." He spoke softly.

Appearing slightly calmer than she had only a few moments ago, she lightly stroked his hair before rising from the bed.

"Get dressed." No more words passed between them as she left Aegon, who now felt completely sober, to contemplate her warning.

Aegon's lips quirked up as he observed Grey Ghost lightly bumping his head against Sunfyre's with affection in the dragon pit. Y/N approached her dragon, a dragon keeper on hand guiding her on how to command the dragon to breathe fire.

"You love her don't you? Even Sunfyre knows it. Look at the two of them, just like their riders."

Aegon was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash with the speed at which he turned on Aemond.

"Don't say that idiot, she'll hear you"

"So it's true then?" Yes it was true. But was it that obvious? His mind wandered back to his mother's warning that he shouldn't be quite so friendly with his sister's children, that they should present a united front.

"Of course not. She's just a stupid girl who follows me around all the time. A pest if anything."

Aemond looked unconvinced but before he could counter Aegon, Jacaerys interrupted them, shouting to his sister.

"Y/N! mother has finished her labours. It's another boy."

Y/N picked up her skirts and ran to follow her brother out of the pit, eager to meet her new brother. Aegon briefly worried she may have overheard his conversation with Aemond, not realising how close she'd been to them until he'd had to watch her leave with Jace.

His nephew, Joffrey, looked no more like Laenor Velaryon than his siblings, and Aegon found it difficult to believe his own father could be so blind not to notice the resemblance between Rhaenyra's sons and Harwin Strong. Y/N was the single exception to the rule.

He smacked at the dummy before him carelessly, sneaking glances at Y/N who stood nearby, chatting with Jace, until Ser Criston calling his name pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned to the knight with a cocky grin.

"I've won my first round, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."

"Then you'll have another opponent. Let's see if you can tap me...you and your brother."

As Aegon and Aemond levied attacks on the knight, Aegon thought this must be the united front his mother wished them to show, though he quickly grew frustrated as it seemed almost possible to get a hit in. He flushed with embarassment when the knight shoved him aside, quickly turning to check if Y/N had seen it and letting out a breath in relief to find her gaze drawn elsewhere. He barely took note of Ser Criston's tense expression as Ser Harwin addressed him, bounding up to Y/N and grinning at her.

"Come to watch my excellent swordsmanship have you?"

Y/N folded her arms against her chest and turned away from him.

"Leave me alone, Aegon."

Aegon was undeterred, following her movements and stepping around her so she had to face him again.

"And if I don't want to?" He taunted, thinking Y/N's rudeness towards him just a game at first. But his smile faltered at her menacing glared and the iciness in her voice.

"I mean it. I don't want to talk to you."

"Why are you upset with me?"

Y/N went to turn away from him again, but he grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stay put.

"Don't pretend like you care."

Aegon was truly confused now and beyond frustrated at Y/N's refusal to be direct about the causes of her irritation with him.

"Of course I care."

Y/N took a step toward him, poking him in the chest accusingly with her index finger.

"I thought I was just a stupid girl. A pest."

Fuck. Panic set in as Aegon realised Y/N had heard what he'd said to Aemond after all, and he quickly scrambled to make amends. He had not meant a word of it.

"I didn't mean it Y/N. I was just joking."

Y/N dropped her hand from his chest, stepping away from him as her anger seemed to fall away from her, replaced by sadness instead, which was much worse.

"That's the problem, Aegon. You're always just joking."

Aegon stilled, her words cutting through the facade of confidence and joviality he wore like armour.

"Quelos, wait." Aegon made to grab for her again but was once again interrupted by Ser Criston calling him.

"Aegon, you will spar with Jacaerys. Eldest son against eldest son."

Aegon tried to focus on his swordsmanship as he met Jace blow for blow. But he was still reeling from his interaction with Y/N and quickly let his emotions overcome him. Though misplaced, he took his anger and frustration out on his nephew until Harwin Strong had to forcibly pull him away from Jace.

"You dare lay hands on me!" He raged at the audacity of the knight. Though he quickly stumbled out of the way as Ser Criston and the commander came to blows, pulling Aemond out of the way with him. If there had been any doubt about the true parentage of Rhaenyra's children, there could be none now. It was proven in no small measure by the ferocity of Ser Harwin's reaction to Ser Criston's taunts. But to his surprise, Aegon could find no amusement in the matter, knowing that such a public display could only draw unwanted attention to Y/N's parentage and cause her shame. With a heavy sigh, he considered that perhaps he was becoming soft like one of the heroes in her stories.

Aegon didn't understand how he was supposed to make amends with Y/N if she refused to speak to him and avoided him at every turn. He felt he should go mad if she continued to ignore him. He considered employing Aemond to hold her in place while he forced her to listen to his apology, but didn't think Aemond would be particularly obliged to risk incurring Y/N's wrath himself. He cursed himself for falling for such a stubborn girl. More dragon than girl in truth. Aegon didn't understand why she felt so slighted by his stupid insult, he couldn't imagine she felt the same way about him as he did her. But he thought that Harwin Strong's leaving for Harrenhal might have intensified her ill mood somewhat and hoped in time she'd allow him to make amends. Since following her around the keep had done no good, he tried a different tactic. Listening to her for once and actually leaving her alone, hoping that if he looked pathetic enough she might at least give him a chance to explain. When that didn't merit a response either he resorted to simply sulking in his room for days at a time. That was until Helaena quietly entered his chambers, bringing him the news of Ser Harwin's death. Though the hour was late, the keep illuminated only by moonlight and candles burning low in their sconces, he immediately sought Y/N out. He knew that she had loved Ser Harwin and would not be able to sleep after hearing of his passing. He also knew she withdrew into herself when upset, and that she'd likely have gone off on her own. But Aegon did not want her to feel like she had to bear her pain alone. Not when he could bear it with her.

Aegon traversed the keep for what felt like hours before he heard muffled sniffles and finally found Y/N curled up on a window seat overlooking the courtyard. She was facing away from him, looking out into the night sky, but the shards of moonlight shining through the window panes allowed him to see the tear streaks glistening on her cheeks. He said nothing as he sat next to her, close enough that his side pressed against hers. After a few moments she rested her head on his shoulder and he nearly sighed with relief that she had not shoved him away from her again. Instead he tilted his head to rest against hers and took hold of her hand. He found himself afraid to disturb this quiet truce between them and whispered simply "I'm sorry." And he was sorry. For her loss, the grief and pain it caused her, and for hurting her himself with his carelessness.

"I know."

And by the way she said it, by the way she squeezed his hand that held hers, Aegon knew that she had understood the full meaning of his apology

Valyrian translations:

Mazis~ come

Umbas~ Wait

Lykirri~ Calm yourself

Quelos~ Star

The next part will cover driftmark, then onto the time jump :)

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #aegon targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #king aegon #aegon targaryen fanfiction #aegon targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen oneshot #aegon targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower

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booksofstars · 2 months ago

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hrt…woag

in reality id prob give them all different body types, but i just made and used a base for this so i wouldnt burn out.

hcs below

cyan: she/her, cis, ace lesbian. 5’3. goes by cy or cyn.

superstitional realism: she/it, enby, sapphic. 5’9. goes by sura.

jovial merryment: she/he, bigender, bisexual. 5’10. goes by merry or jovial.

yellow: she/petal, enby, sapphic. 5’1. no nickname.

door knob: she/they, demigirl, aroace. 5’7. goes by door.

comely material morning: he/her, genderfluid, butch lesbian. 5’5. goes by morning.

downtown skybox: any pronouns, agender, grayromantic lesbian. 5’0. goes by sky.

resolute mind afternoon: he/him, transmasc, aroace. 6’0. goes by res.

bullet n board: they/he/her, unlabelled. 6’2. goes by bullet.

#horse race tests #gijinka #humanization #cyan hrt #hrt cyan #superstitional realism #jovial merryment #hrt yellow #yellow hrt #door knob #comely material morning #downtown skybox #resolute mind afternoon #bullet n’ board #bullet n board

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sweetiebarnes · 2 years ago

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Bucky Barnes is Loud in Bed

Warnings: (degra)dation, da-d-dy kink, preg-nan-cy kink, lac-tation kink, basically pure filth

A/N: Basically I’ve been thinking about Bucky all day so here you go.

Bucky Barnes is loud.

Imagine how vocal Bucky is in the bedroom. He may not have always been this way. Back in the 40s, he’d let out a noise here and there. But ever since being freed as the Winter Soldier, Bucky can’t contain his noises.

HYDRA muffled his voice for so long that now he loves to use it. The moans he lets out could only be described as pornographic. The things he says in the bedroom would never have been allowed in the past.

No, Bucky loves the way you clench around him whenever he degrades. Once he called you a cumslut and you clenched so hard you practically choked his cock in response.

God, he loves the way you get so desperate for him. He loves the way you will beg for him. He loves how you’re always dripping wet for him before he’s even touched you.

It’s all of these things that spur him on. It’s these little things that cause him to say things like, “Such a pretty little pussy for Daddy. She’s just begging to be fucked. Isn’t she?”

Bucky is the definition of feral. He goes after what he wants and when he needs it. Tony was so close to kicking him out of the compound until he decided to soundproof all the bedrooms.

When the topic of having a baby came up, he was the loudest he’d ever been. The thought of filling you to the brim almost drove him mad. He loved the thought of you round with his baby. The idea of your breath filling up with milk. That night he told you every little thing he’d do to you when you’re pregnant.

He may seem quiet around everyone else, but that brooding super soldier screams in pleasure because of you.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #Sebastian Stan

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altocanteven · 2 months ago

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art & animation dump cuz I been making things (video made for a dta)

#alto artpost #object shows #osc #inanimate insanity #object show community #artists on tumblr #object show #osc art #bfdi #animation #alight motion #furry #my oc #not my oc #cy@n [he/they]#tropic escape

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luvlyycy · 9 months ago

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im tweaking bro im so downbad for dabi

NAHHHH ME TOO . i legit want him so bad, if i see him on the streets im flying at him WAP first ong. ON GOD. he can't escape me.

#cy yaps ! — ♡#lets jump him sen. together. he cant handle both of us.#also. giving u a tag n lets hope i remember.#sen ? sen ! — ☆ (≧∇≦)ﾉ

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oshygoshy · 11 months ago

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7:29 am

word count - 953 words

warnings - reader is female in this one. nothing explicit, but suggestive at the end. general intim*cy (throws up, claws at my skin, shakes cell bar handles)

a/n - ermmm guys happy birthday to my glorious king oikawa butttt this is kinda cringe im not gonna lie also i literally woke up at like 3 am and it's past 8 am rn so forgive me for typos my head hurts and my eyes are strained and uhh im formatting this on pc so idk how it looks on mobile but ykw?? that is simply not my business

“who’s blowing up your phone like that?” you mused, sipping your morning coffee as you tried to blink the sleep from your eyes. it was a failing task, though oikawa had to commend you for the valiant attempt.

“i’m not sure,” he hummed, blowing on his tea to try to cool it down. he tried unlocking his phone from his current position, huffing when it didn’t work. he tapped in his passcode and opened up his messages app.

you peer over his shoulder, resting your chin on his bicep. you raise an eyebrow when you see the message. “japanese? tooru, dear, are you texting one of your fangirls back from home?”

“baby,” he whispered, turning his head to kiss you on your temple, “you are my home.”

“real smooth. tell me what your side piece said though,” you say, unamused. (but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a happy grin on your face.)

“do you remember when i was showing you japan’s volleyball roster, and we were watching one of their exhibition matches?”

“mhmm.”

“remember their athletic trainer?”

you turned your head at that, your cheek squishing adorably against his shoulder. “the really buff guy that you totally had the hots for?”

oikawa’s jaw dropped at that. “excuse me?? i don’t know whether i should be offended or disgusted by that comment-“

“-tooru, please. as your partner, i could see the bedroom eyes you had for him from the audience seating.”

his lips thinned as you turned your attention back to his screen. your sleepy voice tugged at his heartstrings, but he really wished you would say something else. “never said that was a bad thing…he kind of looks like me, don’t you think? it’s clear you have a type.”

“now, i don’t even know what you’re-“ he tried but only got cut off by you again with a giggle.

“-great arms, smoldering gaze, and ample space in the chest!” you say with a wink.

you hear his audible groan, and can practically feel his eyes rolling in distaste, but you miss his flushed cheeks and dopey grin.

“checks out. he’s cute, in a grumpy kinda way. anyway, tell me what he said.”

“uh,” oikawa started, faltering at that comment. (iwa-chan? cute?) he squinted at his screen; he could really use his glasses right now. “it says…happy birthday.”

you frown. “that’s it? it looks like a longer message than just ‘happy birthday.’”

“he added a ‘stupidkawa’ at the end too.”

you laugh at that, but still have an eyebrow raised, seemingly not satisfied. after a moment, you shrug, letting your curiosity drop, and instead reach a hand up. “you should let me say something back.” you didn’t ask for permission, sending a little smiley face emoji and a bazillion pink glittery hearts. “there. i’m sure these will transcend our language barrier.”

he shuts off his phone, placing it facedown as you move his cup out of his hands, and slide yourself into his lap. the morning rays are warm, argentina’s summer already making her mark on your glowing skin. but for now, in your private kitchen, his hair blowing gently from the air conditioning vent above, and the most precious smile and both your faces, oikawa couldn’t help but kiss you softly, feeling your smile against his lips.

“happy birthday, tooru,” you whisper against his skin. “my favorite olympian.” you lean back a bit, resting an arm against the counter. “and don’t worry your pretty little head about anything. since today’s the start of the weekend, we can do whatever you want. my treat.”

his hands rested against your waist, rubbing ambiguous shapes into the warmth. “how about we start off with brunch at the cafe we like? the one with the cute cat sitting out front?”

“‘kay. lemme get ready first,” you say, and with much strength, you leave the comfort of his arms, yawning lazily as you head back to your shared room. he stared openly as you stretched your arms above your head, and could only laugh when you flicked his forehead.

“quit ogling me, stupidkawa.”

“but it’s my job to ogle you! and don’t call me that again. you sound just like him,” he said with a fake shudder. he heard your snicker echo in the hallway as he turned his attention back to his phone.

it made sense why you were suspicious of iwa-chan’s text at first. though you didn’t speak japanese, it really did look too long to just say “happy birthday.” but he made sure to leave out the second half of his friend’s text.

oikawa tapped a finger against the edge of the phone as he kept rereading it.

iwa-chan “happy birthday, stupidkawa. take a break, and keep an eye on your girl. some of the guys said they’d buy a ticket just see her.” you "😊😁💕💖💓💞💖💕💓💓💖✨💖💖" “thanks, iwa-chan i'll be sure to take care of myself." "the hearts were from her. did you know she thinks you have ‘great arms, a smoldering gaze, and a big chest?’” “i told her you called me stupidkawa, and now she calls me that too. you’re a bad influence”

he saw the little dots pop up immediately. japan was only 12 hours ahead, so it should be around 7 pm for him.

iwa-chan “did she really? cute. maybe i should meet her too.”

his eyes kept flicking back to the last message.

“meet her too.”

“meet her”

“cute”

oikawa raised his brows, thinking. wouldn’t that be a treat, to have iwaizumi and you meet? well, doesn’t matter. they’ll be seeing each other soon in paris for the olympics. but…he thought back to what you said about him. (great arms? cute? you both found each other cute??)

well, maybe they can have another, more secret competition back in his room. winner takes all.

#haikyuu!!#oikawa torū #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #oshy writes #oikawa tooru

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featherlight-touches · 9 months ago

Text

A Helpful Cyno

Cyno/Tighnari

a/n: some fluff at 3am, yay!

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

Cyno discovered it during a cuddle session with Tighnari near the start of their relationship. It made sense to him why Tighnari responded this way when it was discovered but Cyno truly believed it was the most adorable thing he had ever witnessed in all his years.

Tighnari, being part fox, shared many common traits from his ancestors. For example, good hearing, a heightened sense of smell, agility and an occasional purr which he would always deny. These all made Tighnari, well, Tighnari and Cyno loved Tighnari.

His more recent discovery, the one that melted his heart every time, was that Tighnari loved a good tummy rub. The usually stern forest watcher went into a limp, blissed out mess once his tummy received a gentle rub or trace of fingers against it.

One evening, Tighnari had settled in his bed for the night, reading a book he had recently obtained from Sumeru City. His curiosity was piqued by the title alone and found himself quite intrigued by the story told.

Cyno, late home as per usual, had decided to take his place for the evening sprawled across Tighnari’s lap, one of his favourite places to rest.

“Busy day?” Tighnari asked down to the clearly exhausted General in his lap which was responded by a very tired groan of confirmation. Tighnari hummed and focused back on the pages before him whilst gently using his ungloved fingers to stroke through Cyno’s locks, the touch very comforting.

“How was your day?” Cyno then asked, craning his neck to see the forest ranger’s face behind his book.

“Fine. Although, I think I need to start putting more safety notices up so people pay attention to them when venturing out into the forest. If I have to treat someone again for something as silly as ‘gee, this plant looks edible I wonder what this tastes like’, I’m going to strangle them myself.”

Tighnari’s little rant caused Cyno to huff out a laugh. He knew that Tighnari didn’t mean it, but he understood the frustrations that came with being the leader of the forest rangers and he admired him greatly for it.

He gazed into Tighnari’s eyes for a moment, and he could see the exhaustion masked by the determination to read the book in his hand. If Cyno knew Tighnari, which he was certain he did, the forest ranger would get no sleep tonight because of this book and it was up to Cyno to intervene, he decided.

Cyno’s eyes lowered to the stomach that was level with his head and reached his hand out, letting the palm of his hand flatten out against Tighnari’s tummy. He smiled when he felt the slight twitch beneath his hand at the sudden contact.

“Don’t you start getting ideas,” Tighnari warned, playfully.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cyno feigned innocence, his hand gently gliding over the soft fabric of Tighnari’s vest. A sweet sound of satisfaction left Tighnari’s lips, and his ears began to twitch.

“Yes, you do,” Tighnari sighed but stubbornly tried to keep his focus on the book in his hands. This wouldn’t do, Cyno thought. He needed to try harder.

“I just want you to relax and get a good sleep. But that’s not going to happen unless you put the book down,” Cyno kept up his ministrations, feeling a tickle on his arm from Tighnari’s tail which swayed in comfort.

“You’re exaggerating!”

“Am I?”

Tighnari huffed and went back to reading, doing his best to ignore Cyno.

Desperate measures were needed. Cyno’s hand halted and grabbed the bottom of the vest that protected the bare skin underneath. As soon as skin touched skin, Tighnari gasped.

“Cyno! Your hands are cold!” He complained, lowering his book to try and grab the General’s wrist, but Cyno’s hand was quick to counter and began to claw at the soft skin of Tighnari’s tummy, reducing the forest ranger into a giggly mess. “Cynohoho!”

“Cy-yes!” he joked and if Tighnari wasn’t too busy giggling and squirming he would have definitely chided him for that joke.

“Plehehehease!” Tighnari pleaded, the squeaks starting to mix in with his laughter which Cyno took as his cue to return to more gentler methods.

“Alright, I won’t tickle anymore,” Cyno chuckled, letting his fingertips gently glide against Tighnari’s tummy, gradually applying more pressure to rubbing. Tighnari’s giggles eventually subsided and was replaced with the sweet sounds of his purrs. Success! “You’re adorable, Nari.”

“Shut up,” Tighnari’s cheeks tinted with a faint pink before he finally placed his book off onto the bedside desk and laying his head back into the soft pillows. “You win.”

Cyno smiled at his victory before placing a soft kiss to Tighnari’s tummy.

“Sleep well, Tighnari.”

#tighnari #cyno #lee!tighnari #ler!cyno #all the cuddles #tummy rubs #genshin impact tickling

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g00d--m0urning · 13 days ago

Text

Unnamed (PT.5)

Daryl Dixon x ex-cop!reader

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

WC: 3157

A/N: reader is pregnant guys, but otherwise gender neutral. The slow burn is finally starting to burn!!

TW: alcohol use, vague puking, needles

A bright light shines as the doors slide open with a loud hiss. Nobody wastes any time, barreling into the room. You feel a presence right behind you and you look over your shoulder, expecting to find Glenn, but instead Daryl; who immediately backs away when he notices you looking.

An armed doctor comes into the room, waving an automatic weapon around and shouting something at Rick, who is trying to negotiate with him. They come to an agreement, which you miss, and everyone is led down a hallway, an elevator trip, and into a lower level.

The agreement was blood drawing, apparently. You end up second to last in line, sandwiched between your baby daddy and your actual baby daddy. Glenn talks your ear off until it’s his turn and by the sound of it, he’s doing the same to the doctor.

It doesn’t take long for Glenn to finish, so it’s your turn… yay. You enter the sterile room, sitting down on the metal table.

“Now, this’ll be easy. I’m just going to stick a needle in you, draw some blood, and you’ll be done,” Jenner tells you, prepping a new needle for you.

“Yeah, I know how it works,” you tell him, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“Perfect. Now, you’ll feel a little pinch.”

You grit your teeth as he sticks the needle in you, counting down the seconds until he’s done. Once he is, you stand up and leave the room, joining everyone in a dining room. Everybody seems happy: shelter, promise of food, even hopes of a cure or whatever Jenner is doing here.

Jenner comes out around thirty minutes later with food and a bottle of wine in tow. Everyone finds seats, piling food onto their plates, and filling their glasses with wine. It’s a nice time, people are laughing, people are fed, safe.

And then Jenner says there’s warm water. Thankfully, there’s enough rooms and showers that nobody has to wait, you just have to keep it short. You take as much time in the shower as possible, drawing it out even after the water starts running cold- it’s just nice having running water again and being clean!

You’re just about to lay down when someone knocks on your door. You groan, but get up, expecting Rick or Glenn, but finding Daryl.

“Uhm.. Hey?”

He doesn’t respond, stumbling into the room instead. He spins in a circle before settling down and looking at you, coming back to pull you into the room and close the door. You realize by the flush of his skin and the muttering under his breath, he’s drunk. Lightweight.

“I was… I was wrong,” he pants, waggling a finger at you, “that baby, I wan’ it- her.”

“Daryl--”

“No, no, listen… I’m surry--sorry ‘bout before. I didn’t know what ta do when you showed up, and then the whole pregnacy, prenancy, preg-cy--baby thing. You broke mah heart, leaving, but I know I deserved it,” he rambles, tripping over to you, setting his hands on your shoulders to steady himself.

Up close, you can see the tears in his eyes, and the way his hands tremble slightly. You’re close to crying too, this is the most he’s talked to you, and he’s drunk.

“You’re drunk, Daryl. You don’t mean it; go back to your room,” you say softly, trying to peel him off of you, pushing him towards the door.

“I mean it, I wanna be there.. Fur you, ‘nd the baby, our baby girl.. Do you have one of those…” he trails off, narrowing his eyes as his drunken mind tries to remember the word.

“Yes… I do have an ultrasound picture. Stay right here.”

You prop him up against the wall, disappearing into the room for a quick moment, and returning with the sonogram. You hand it to him, watching as he stares at the black and white blob in awe, running his thumb over the image.

“Tha’s her?”

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s a little bit bigger by now, it’s been over two months since that was taken.”

“You should have Doc. Fancy-Pants take a new one.”

“That’s a good idea, but I don’t know if scientists do ultrasounds, but I’ll ask.”

Not for him, though. You doubt he’ll remember this come morning. You take his arm, leading him down the hall to the room he claimed. You lay him down in bed, in which he promptly conks out.

“I despise you, Daryl,” you murmur, brushing a hand through his damp hair.

You sit there for a moment, mulling over the entire interaction with him. He was the heartbroken one? He’s the one who ignored you. And there’s the whole ‘I want to be there for you and the baby’ thing. Does he mean it? Will he still mean it when he’s sober?

“Jesus…Goodnight, asshole,” you whisper, leaving the room.

For the first time in a while, you get to sleep on a bed, which does wonders for your back. The morning is nice, Glenn and Rick are hungover--Glenn swears off all alcohol for good--and breakfast is served.

Jenner joins us a little later, and eventually we all make it into some fancy lab with a video of an infected person’s brain scan playing. It’s depressing and explains jackshit about what the virus actually is.

People are disappointed by Jenner’s explanation- or lack thereof, but their focus gets pulled by a timer on the wall and when asked, Jenner clams up and makes a brisk exit. VI explains that once the generators run out, ‘facility-wide decontamination will occur.’ Which doesn’t sound good at all.

“I need a drink,” you announce, getting you odd looks because it’s well established by now that you're pregnant, “kidding, my god.”

You look over at Daryl, who’s very much avoiding your gaze. You roll your eyes, leaving the room to join Carol and Sophia in the rec room. It’s nice, books, games, the whole lot.

“Hey,” you greet, nodding at Carol, walking over to the bookshelf, “any parenting books?”

“Hi and no, I don’t think so, sorry.”

“Haha, don’t apologize, I was just hoping. I honestly have no clue what I’m going to do when she comes. I was barely prepared for a baby in normal life, let alone in the apocalypse,” you admit with a quiet laugh, frowning at the bookshelf.

“You’re gonna do great, sweetheart. The fact that you’re so concerned right now means you will,” she consoles, setting a hand on your shoulder.

“...Thanks.”

“Of course.”

With no books, you settle with playing a board game with Sophia for the time being. The AC blows, Carol flips a page in her book, Sophia moves her piece. The AC blows…No it doesn’t. Why’d it stop?

“Why’d the air stop?” Carol voices your inner question, standing up to check on the vent.

“Maybe it’s on a schedule?” you suggest, but don’t believe it yourself, “let’s go round up with everyone else.”

Sophia huddles by Carol’s legs as you leave the room, joining everybody else who are hounding Jenner already. Daryl peaks out of his room, half-empty bottle of liquor in hand; he looks at you for a very brief moment before focusing on Jenner.

Jenner is refusing to give a clear answer, walking away towards the big room. Everybody is panicking now; Jenner is mumbling and drinking and that godforsaken timer is still ticking. It finally hits thirty minutes, VI oh-so-helpfully announces.

Ricks starts telling everyone to get out, but the door locks, keeping everyone trapped inside to explode. This cannot be how you die. Shane and Daryl start an assault on the door with axes, doing absolutely nothing in the process. They quickly realize that and Daryl takes a swing at Jenner’s head.

His ax privileges get revoked while the group either a.) cries or b.) continues to try and negotiate with Jenner to let us out.

“Would you quit pacing? It’s stressing me out,” you hiss at Daryl, who’s pacing like a caged tiger.

“I’m stressing you out? I’m so sorry,” he retorts, sneering at you, but you notice that he does stop, leaning against the computers.

“We’re getting out of here, ‘m not letting this bastard blow us up.”

You look up from your lap, looking around for who he’s talking to before you register that it’s you. He’s acknowledging you, kindly. Wow, you really are dying. He seems to hesitate for a moment before setting a hand on your shoulder. Nevermind, you’re actually already dead.

“Yeah,” you nod, setting your hand over his, closing your eyes for a moment.

Said moment is over when Daryl removes his hand, picking up the unaccompanied ax aside to start batterning at the door again. Someone said something because Jenner finally gives in and walks over to the keypad and unlocks the door.

The group starts rushing out the door, minus Jacqui and Andrea, who seem to explode ‘peacefully’. You stop in your room to grab your bag, freaking out when you can’t find your sonogram- Daryl, you gave it to Daryl. He better still have it or you’re going to strangle him.

The windows refuse to break: axes, chairs, shotguns, nada. A lightbulb appears over Carol’s head and she starts rummaging through her purse, pulling out a grenade. Rick’s grenade, the one who nicked from the dead soldier. That works!

Walkers are gathering in the center, so you have to deal with those as you all make a break for the cars. You dive into your front seat, fumbling for the keys. Dale and Andrea appear from the window, sprinting to get cover.

They make it, barely. The CDC blows up; it’s hot, super fucking hot and it probably just attracted every undead thing in a hundred mile radius.

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

Over the next two days, it’s boring. Glenn ended up in your passenger seat because he got tired of being stuck in the camper with a bajillion people. The cars come to stop in front of you, so you park the Impala and get out. The highway is blocked, big surprise.

Apparently, a hose or something is broken on the RV, so now everybody is playing ‘pop the hood and search for car parts’. You end up looking through cars for anything helpful: meds, food, clothes, that stuff, y’know?

You slide open the door to a minivan, ignoring the twinge in your heart at the sight of the empty car seats. You find a backpack, searching through it for anything. There’s not much in it, but there is a parenting book. You stare at the dusty cover, brushing your fingers over the smiling baby picture.

“Might as well take it, right? I don’t think the original owner would mind.”

You jump, shocked out of the trance you were in, turning around to find Carol standing there with a soft smile.

“Yeah, doubt they would.”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah; I’m fine. It’s just hitting me that I’m going to be raising a kid in the middle of the apocalypse,” you confess, tucking the book under your arm.

You’re going to be raising a cute, innocent little baby in a world where the dead walk and want to eat you. How are you supposed to do this? Kids are loud and messy and so much work in the normal world; you can’t do this.

Carol sets a hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before departing. You follow shortly behind her, heading to your car and sitting in the backseat, contemplating life and the life in you.

You don’t know how long you sat there, absentmindedly flipping between pages before someone comes barreling into you, forcing you into the car and slamming the door shut.

“Stay down ‘nd shut up.”

Daryl barks, wiggling his way onto the floor, between the seats. You stammer, taken entirely aback at what’s happening. It doesn’t take long for you to figure it out as walkers start bumping against the car, making it sway back and forth.

“Jesus Christ, where’d they come from?” you whisper, watching the undead pass by. The streets were just empty.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, chewing on a thumbnail, like he’s nervous or something, “What’s this?”

“Dunno,” you mock, resisting the urge to smack the baby book out of his hand when he grabs it from the seat, “I’ve got a kid coming in three months, figured I might as well try and understand what’s coming,” you explain, flinching when the car rattles.

He just grunts in response, setting a hand over your stomach protectively. You don’t know if he did it on purpose, or simply on instinct. The baby kicks against his hand, which clearly shocks the both of you. He yanks his hand back, cradling his palm to his chest.

“I..uhm..”

“She..”

“You--”

Both of you stammer, unable to figure out what to say to one another. Neither of you have to figure it out because someone screams. Both of you exit the car, sprinting over to the group, just in time to see Sophia run away from a walker.

Rick and Daryl immediately go after her, so you focus on Carol, grabbing her before she can go with them. She’s a mess and you can’t blame her. Your training kicks in as you take her to sit down, speaking to her calmly and talking her through her panic attack.

“Rick was a cop and Daryl is the best tracker I know. They’ll find her, I promise,” you tell her, petting her head and letting her rest her lean against you.

It’s after dark before Rick and Daryl return, with no Sophia in sight. It sends your heart to your stomach; that poor little girl is lost out there, hurt or worse. The night is rough; everybody is paranoid from the horde and worried about Sophia.

You can’t sleep, too wired from the day to even try and think about it, so after a couple hours of tossing and turning, you settled on flipping through the parenting book. It’s helpful-ish; it honestly doesn’t feel like you’re actually comprehending any of it.

At some point, you apparently fell asleep because the next time you’re up, the sun is shining and your book is dropped on the floorboards. You get up, going to look for everyone else. Almost nobody is around, Dale and T-Dog are the only one’s around, fixing up the RV.

“Where is everybody?” you ask, squinting through the sunlight.

“Out looking for Sophia,” Dale answers, looking up what he’s working on.

“Why didn’t anyone wake me up? I could’ve helped,” you scoff, looking around like it’ll make someone else magically appear.

“Well… You’re pregnant, we all decided to let you rest,” Dale says, hesitant like he’s waiting for you to have some hormonal outburst.

“I’m pregnant, not useless. I was a cop for christ’s sake, I can track,” you fumed, throwing your hands up. You could find Merle Dixon holed up in some crack shack with your eyes shut; you can help find Sophia!

“It wasn’t my idea. I was all for waking you up,” he agreed, raising his hands in surrender, “Dixon was the one that brought it up. Everyone else agreed.”

You’re going to kill that redneck, you swear, strangle him with your bare hands. You huff, going back to the car. Who does he think he is? Benching you like he has any damn say in what you do.

The groups shows up a little later and you join them, ready to chew Mr. Dixon out, but then you hear them explain what’s going on. Carl is shot, there’s a farm, Lori’s there. Glenn gets tasked with taking T-Dog to the farm while everyone else is staying, just in case Sophia manages to find her way back.

“You’re going with ‘em,” you hear Daryl say, looking up to find him staring directly at you.

“No, I’m not, thank you,” you shake your head, smiling pointedly.

“You’re preg--”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll knock you on your ass. You said you don’t want anything to do with my child, so you don’t get a say in what I do or do not do,” you snap, stuffing your hands into your pockets before you do something stupid.

“I’m staying.”

He shakes his head, looking like he’s going to argue again, but he makes the smart decision not to. You storm off, muttering under your breath. Andrea, Carol, Dale, and Daryl all shack up in the RV and you’ve never been happier that you have your own car.

It may be shitty to sleep in, but at least you’re alone. It’s another sleepless night, stuck rereading chapters from the book. There’s a knock on your window and the door opens; Daryl leans into the car.

“I’m gonna look for the girl, you wanna come, copper?” you can hear the mocking tone in his voice, but you’d rather walk around the forest with him than be stuck in the car reading about how babies can get sick from even the slightest of things.

“I do, actually, douchebag,” you retort, grabbing your flashlight and knife, sliding out of the car, “let’s go.”

The two of you walk in silence; it’s familiar, almost nostalgic. You remember a time when the two of you would walk through the woods, hand in hand; sometimes Daryl was hunting, others you would head down to the creek.

“You were right.. Earlier, when ya said I couldn’t tell you what to do,” he grumbles, pushing back a tree branch for you guys to pass.

“Pardon, what was that?” you ask, trying not to smirk. Daryl Dixon just admitted he was wrong; hell has frozen over.

“‘M not repeating myself,” he snorted, looking over his shoulder to glare at you.

“Fine, fine,” you grin, looking away from him, so he can’t see your smile.

Silence falls back over you, but it feels much less tense than before. You guys stumble across a campsite, which appears empty until you hear a growl in the trees. Oof, poor dude.

“Do you think we should… I don’t know.. Put him down?” you ask, eyeing the hanging man with disgust.

“Nah, he made his choice, too bad he wasn’t smart enough to shoot himself,” Daryl shrugs, ducking into the tent to make sure there’s nothing of use in it.

“That’s cruel, even for you,” you grimace, gagging as it swings in the wind.

“Oh poor you, gonna puke?” he teases, stepping out of the tent empty handed.

“Yeah! It’s rancid,” you nod, flipping him off.

He snorts, clearly enjoying your misery, but he lifts his crossbow and shoots the man, “Waste of an arrow.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, turning away to take a deep breath.

He hums in response and he starts heading back in the direction you came from. You follow behind him, catching up, so you’re walking side-by-side. Your hands brush together; neither of you pull away.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x gn!reader #the walking dead x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x you #unnamed

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skyof-atlas · 1 year ago

Text

Sandstorms

Pairing(s): Cyno, Tighnari, and Candace x afab!reader

Warnings: breeding, pet names, fingering, oral, usage of the term “mommy”, biting, dumb-fucked, cuddles, whimpering.

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple commission for easy Mora. You were coming back from taking photos and gathering relics for the person who commissioned you. (Supposedly they were busy with something else). A sandstorm abruptly swept through forcing you to take shelter. However your savior(s) have come to help.

A/N: describing things is a thing i'm working on and hv no clue how. I imagine it…wait..i can just dra–!

I can’t write for men…Apologies. I’m a woman enthusiast but won’t mind writing for men.

MDNI

words: 2k

Cyno:

Cyno happened to run into you just before the sandstorm hit. He led you to a cave nearby and said that it was best to stay in until after the sandstorm passes.

Both of you started chatting about many things. You asked about how he like being mahamatra and he asked you about you life as an adventurer.

Somehow the conversation ended up about relationships and how you weren't really looking for someone who couldn’t keep the same pace as you.

He could relate. You admitted that you had a crush on him back when you were both students at the Akademiya.

From there everything is a blur…

“Cy..-Cyno-“ you moaned. His cock buried deep into you as you clawed the floor. The heat from his body was warming you up more than the campfire. He had a grip on your thighs and refused to let go.

He kept thrusting in and out. He kept hitting that perfect spot making you see stars and arching your back. The sandstorm didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

His grunts and the sound of skin slapping was echoing through the cave. You were close to coming again and he might be as well, due to the now slow and hard thrust he’s doing. He pulled out making you whine and flipped you over on your belly.

He quickly lifted your hips higher and closer to him, making to face the cold ground. You turned your head to look at him but he pushed your head back to the ground.

“What the He— nghh- ahh..” He entered his cock back into you.

Everytime he thrusted you can feel him gently hitting your cervix with how deep he’s penetrating you.

“I-…I’m c-..coming Cyno..”

“Go ahead baby..” He was grunting and his breaths were heavier.

Fuck. You could feel every part of his cock with how tight you were. You came all over his cock as his cum filled you up. He kept it in order to prevent any of his cum from spilling out. Oh dear Archons he wanted you knocked up.

“Good girl~ taking it all in” Your pussy tightened around him even more hearing those words. Your were tired and sweaty from the heat. It took him a while to pull out because of how tight you were holding onto him. He then made sure to clean you up and let you sleep after that.

You should bring him with you more often.

Tighnari:

Tighnari insisted on coming with you and reluctantly you said yes. Now both you were stuck in a cave waiting out this sandstorm.

“It’s going to be awhile until the storm passes.” Tighnari said as he added more sticks into the fire.

“Ah. Damn, at least the photos are safe.” You said checking the photos to see if they were actually safe.

“Hey ‘Nari I’m gonna take a nap.” He nodded and you laid down and decided to take a nap.

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep but you woke up to a whine and grunts.

“Tighnari?” you called out for him. The fire was slowly dying out but still provided enough light to see his outline.

You kneeled beside him and carefully turned him over to see him. His ears were flat down and you could tell he was breathing heavily.

He curled himself into a ball and whimper.

“Tighnari? Are you ok?” You asked, worried about his health.

“It’s just a lit–little fever…no worries..” He said trying to maintain his composure, but clearly that wasn’t working. You didn’t believe that it was a fever.

You placed a hand over his forehead to check for his temperature and instead of a kind response from him, he grabbed your wrists and pinned you down. (dear lord).

“Please…” He practically moaned. The archons were testing your self-control cause you were about to ravage this man the moment he said please.

This fine ass man was dry humping your thigh looking for some friction as you laid on the ground dazed. You quickly snapped out of it and you pressed your thigh closer to him.

“What a pretty sight to see.” You could tell he was getting close to his high by the way he was moving slower but humping harder, but you wanted to have a little more fun with him.

You removed your thigh and stripped your pants and underwear off. You made sure you placed it under you. He understood what you were doing, slightly annoyed at you for stopping but he followed as well.

You laid him down and positioned yourself on top of him. You started off slow, coating his dick with your own cum. You were going painfully slow, watching him writhe around and while like a cute little dog, it got you excited.

He was getting annoyed with your antics and forcefully grabbed your hips to lift you up and slam you down straight into him. You moaning loudly at the sudden feeling of being penetrated, but how he filled you up.

Every thrust made you see stars as strings of moans left your mouth. Your hips started moving on their own, at this rate you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“I-I’m close” Tighnari grunted out. He clawed into your thighs leaving you crescent shaped moons which made you wince.

A few more thrust and you came all over him. It wasn’t long until he came inside as well. His cum felt warm and you could feel it dripping down your thighs as you got off him and collapsed next to him.

He pulled you closer to him and hugged you.

All you could hear was a thank you and love you as you cuddled him for the remainder of the sandstorm.

Candace:

It’s been a couple of hours since this sandstorm started and you took shelter in a nearby cave that had some abandoned stuff.

You rummaged through the things to see what you could find, not much but there was a couple of books, food, and sticks. You noticed a broken cup and decided to move it out the way. As you picked up the shards and placed them in a box, a small shard cut your hand.

“Fuck! Ow…whatever..”

You weren't far from Aaru village, but this sandstorm would sweep you away if you tried.

“Y/N?” You heard someone call your name from the entrance of the cave. You turned your head towards the person calling your name and found Candace standing there.

“Candace? What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Looking for you of course..I got worried when you didn’t come back and assumed you got stuck in the storm.” She said, as she walked over to where you set up a little fire and sat down next to you.

“How…? How did you get through the sandstorm???” You were hella confused on how this woman managed to find you in this crazy ass sandstorm.

“My shield helped and I know my way through the desert.” She smiled and looked down at your hand.

“Your hand is bleeding.” She took your hand and noticed some gauze in one of the boxes near you and took it.

“Oh. I accidentally picked up a broken vase and cut myself.. No big deal.”

“Y/N! You could’ve gotten an infection. I don’t like when you get hurt, you know this.” Candace spoke with a gentle soft voice that made your heart flutter. You chuckled and looked away embarrassed.

“Yeah I know…sorry Candace…It won’t happen again” You felt her finish wrapping your hand. You were going to check out your hand to see the job well done, but she grabbed your chin and made you look at her. She stared at you intently, looking at every feature you had.

“C-Candace??!” You stuttered out. It took you by surprise and your heart rate increased.

“Making sure your pretty face isn’t injured.” You were now staring at her with a flustered face.

Your eyes trailed down from her gorgeous heterochromic eyes down to her lips. It seemed like she caught on at where you were looking at because the next thing she did was lean into you barely brushing her lips onto yours. Her hands cupping the back of your neck and finally kissing you.

The next couple things were a blur as clothes went flying and her mouth latched onto your neck.

“Nghh—- wa-wait!” She pushed you back flat to the ground.

“So wet already? Just for me?” You could feel her breath close, you threw your head back and covered your eyes in embarrassment.

She noticed this and grabbed your arms and placed them near your side holding them there. You could see her look up at you from her position, her eyes were filled with lust and admiration.

She gave a quick kiss on your thigh before diving into your soaking cunt.

“Such a good girl for me. What a divine taste.” She ate you out like it was her last meal. Her hot tongue played with your clit, gently sucking and biting it as you bucked your hips into her face and hands tangling into her hair.

For each passing minute, your orgasm was nearing. Her tongue was doing some damage but not enough for you to reach your high.

“Please— i need moreee” Your voice came out as a whine. Eyes were glossy and drool was dripping down your mouth.

“Mmm what the magic word darling?” She asked with a sly smirk plastered on her lips. Her fingers teased your entrance and you moaned out.

“Ngh-ah– M-mommy…pleaseee~” Now your face is completely red. It didn’t even register in your head what you said until it came out. You didn’t care, all you wanted was to cum all over her fingers.

Her 2 fingers slipped into you easily and started pumping in and out, hitting that sweet spot. Moans and screams of her names left your mouths like a prayer on repeat.

She added a 3rd finger and pumping harder but slower, making you go stupid.

“My good slut~ taking it all in easily~” She said in such an angelic voice. She left marks all over your inner thigh. Pretty purple colored your thighs now.

“‘ s’good…mommyyy!” Praises flowed out of her mouth which made you even more wet than before.

All you could hear was the sinful sounds coming from your cunt. Her mouth latched back onto your clit, providing more stimulation. Your brain turned to mush and it was no longer moaning of her name but just babble.

“A-aahh... Ahn... Candace—!!!” Her fingers kept moving and her mouth sucked. Not a single moment did she stop.

“O-oh…AHH- COMING!!” Suddenly the knot burst, coming all over her face. You were near passing out but still felt her fingers leave and her tongue licking up all your cum.

Your vision was blurring and your body felt like jelly. She sat on your lap and sucked on your neck leaving marks. This women had a mission to mark you.

“That was a nice appetizer, but I'm ready for the main course~” She said, licking her fingers while smirking.

Archons bless you because you won’t be able to walk, but it will be all worth it.

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