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that-student-that-has-homework · 4 months

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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01

Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him

Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList

Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife

To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award

They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.

Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general.

I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father

I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids

Thing is, that’s both your faults.

Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own?

(Your husband is hot okay?)

In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.

I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.

His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.

He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.

He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible

Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.

While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves.

For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.

But they had to build it themselves.

It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.

Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.

It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)

Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help

(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)

Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.

They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once

Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night

He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills

You had to help out here, no lie.

He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again

He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes

especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies

He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp.

Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.

You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.

He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles

Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)

"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"

"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"

"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"

If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are

Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.

At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.

His arm is on your waist most of the time.

They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.

He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.

You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!

So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.

It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.

Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.

Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.

He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle

Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.

When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.

Oh no, hugs galore.

Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though

When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp

Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.

I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection

Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)

It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter

His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.

"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"

"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"

Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA

The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result

Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something

Ace is his kids’ hero.

His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.

His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating

You're relieved

Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving

Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better

When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”

Ace loves you so much he swears

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

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gurugirl · 8 months

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Magic Spell | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader

can be read as standalone

⛔️ this gif for inspo ⛔️ (gif is NSFW but no nudity)

Summary: The yearly neighborhood Halloween party at the Baylor mansion has plenty of hidden rooms for you and Harry to indulge in a little alone time without anyone ever knowing.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, lying, age gap, breeding kink

bfd!harry masterlist

“Harry you need to go!” You laughed as he lay stretched out on your bed, half his body covering yours, his face nuzzled against your breasts.

“No…” his words came out muffled against your skin.

He’d been so needy lately. Which was fine by you. Honestly. You were terribly needy too, but his daughter was going to be coming over any minute and even though his overnight bag was packed and ready to go, he was lying naked with you in your bed.

“Fae could be here any second! What will we say if she gets here and you’re still here?” You ran your fingers through his hair.

“I’ll hide in your closet or under your bed.”

You sighed and moved your hands down to his face, smushing his cheeks and lifting upward so he had to look at you, “Harry…” you warned. But he was so goddamn cute you cracked a smile. He was so soft and so sweet. “I love you so much but you have to go.”

You felt Harry swallow and watched as he pouted, “I know.”

Finally, you both sat up. You also needed to use the bathroom and get dressed yourself. You still smelled of sex and Harry’s cologne. You could easily find an excuse for why you were just now showering once Fae arrived but what kind of excuse could you have if you let her father out of your apartment just as she was just getting there?

You guess you had started it. The reason why you were both naked and freshly fucked. The intention was that Harry would wake up and you two would have some coffee and then he’d leave long before Fae was due to arrive.

But instead of any of that, you felt his morning wood poking into your bottom like a tempting little snack you couldn’t resist taking a bite of. You ground your bottom over him and pulled his tired arm over your middle and brought his fingers up to your mouth, kissing the tip of each one until he woke up moaning and rubbing himself against you, “You know I have to fuck you now, right?” His first words of the day spoke into your ear.

He pulled you in tighter to his chest and planted his lips on the back of your neck as he slid his hand downward to your naked pussy and found your clit right away. Like he always did. Like he owned your body and knew every little crevice blindfolded.

And waking up in Harry’s arms, him spooning behind you with his big erection slotted perfectly between your ass cheeks was bound to turn you on. So maybe it wasn’t fully your fault. You were powerless to him. You would have had to have been crazy to not act on it a little.

But that all turned into Harry flipping you to your tummy and eating you out from behind. His tongue lapped at your entrance and up to your anus over and over again. And he went in gently and slowly too, his wet tongue dragging up and down, kissing and licking, until you were a sicky, moaning, wiggling, begging mess.

And of course, when Harry fucked you, it was never something to quickly get you off. He took his time with you and played with you for a while. After pushing you over to your back and spreading your legs for himself he thumbed at your clit until you were crying and whining.

So he finally gave you what you wanted.

Thrusting himself in deeply then pulling out slowly, slipping himself over your pussy, “What is it, baby? Need me back in?” All that as if he didn’t need to get going.

His voice was even sexier than normal in the mornings. Deeper, raspier.

There was nothing like morning sex with Harry. Somehow it felt more tender. Like your nerve endings were more receptive to touch and his thick prick moving within your wet, cushiony walls felt like heaven. In fact, the only time you’d ever come without a little clitoral stimulation in your entire life was morning sex with Harry once.

And when you both came, finally after you’d spent nearly an hour in your bed with Harry pulling himself out and teasing you over and over again, it was magic. Truly. You saw stars and Harry cried out so loud when he fucked himself into you and came, his cock throbbing and pumping his come inside you.

You had wrapped your arms around him and pulled him down to your chest to breathe a bit and lay together before he had to go. His cock still twitching inside of you. He kissed you and rubbed his nose against yours softly, “You have me under a magic spell don’t you?”

He left just in time, but barely. You couldn’t believe he’d been so careless, but you’d been pretty careless just the same.

He kissed you once more at the door before quickly making his way to the stairs to head down to the parking lot, “See you tonight, baby!” He called over his shoulder.

. . .

“So tell me who you’ve been seeing,” Fae said without an ounce of humor, her hands on the steering wheel as she drove you both down the street.

“Uhm… what?” You turned to look at your best friend in confusion. You knew she was nosy and perceptive but how–

“I can just tell,” she quickly glanced at you before looking back to the street, “you’re suddenly busy way more than usual, and then… what was that two weeks ago when I called you to talk about my dad and mom being separated?”

You swallowed and looked out your window. What the fuck were you gonna tell her?

“It’s just some guy. He’s been fun. Nothing serious, though,” you cringed inwardly as you looked over at Fae. It was a lie but you had to give her something. Denying it completely would have made things worse.

She nodded, “Nothing serious. Okay maybe… but is he like, loaded or something?”

“Why would you think he’s loaded?” You laughed. But you actually didn’t think the direction your conversation had taken was funny at all. In fact, you were freaking out.

“I see those bouquets of fresh flowers you keep getting. And your new earrings? Also, are you not gonna tell me what happened when I called you that night? You were like in such a hurry to get off the phone.”

You sighed and looked down at your lap. You were dressed up as a femme ghost. A short gauzy, flowy, white dress with a hood. The sleeves draped off your shoulders and the hem of the dress was jagged and torn-looking, showing off most of your legs. You’d painted your eyelids black and wore black lipstick.

Every year the Baylors held a huge neighborhood party. Their mansion was massive and they always went all out. And it just so happened that their house was in the Styles’ neighborhood. You’d been going with the Styles every Halloween since high school. It was rarely ever on the day of Halloween but usually on the Friday before. But this time it was on Friday the 13th.

“Well… I really didn’t feel well that night and I don’t know. I guess he’s doing pretty well for himself,” you lifted your hand up to brush your fingers over the earrings Harry had bought you. They were jewel clusters that looked like little, sparkly, flower studs on your ears.

“We’ll finish this conversation later. But you are not off the hook.” Fae said as she parked her car on the street in front of her parent’s house. You sighed in relief. You were glad to have the conversation tabled. Even if just for now.

The Baylor’s house was an easy walk to the opposite street. The entire front yard was decorated and to get to the house you had to go through a maze of six-foot-high stacked hay the moment you passed through the tall gates that surrounded the property. The sun was down and there was loud music playing out into the street. Black lights, smoke machines, people laughing…

“This maze is crazy!” Fae spoke excitedly as you both wound your way toward the house. Fae was dressed up as a killer clown. Her costume was actually a bit creepy with the face paint and the gray wig with red popping through. She had fake blood all over her clown outfit and a machete (plastic) in hand. You both got ready together at your apartment. You wondered how long she’d had a clue that you’d been seeing someone.

When you finally arrived at the entrance of the house Mrs. Baylor, dressed as Dolly Parton with an obnoxiously huge blond wig, was at the front greeting everyone, a glass in hand. When she saw you and Fae she smiled at gestured for you to come closer.

“Girls! So good to see you! Glad you could make it! Help yourself to anything you’d like to drink in the kitchen, everything is set up. We also have a bartender if you don’t want to make your own. There are snacks. A dance floor. Oh! And your parents are already here, Fae.”

You took a deep breath. You and Harry had decided to keep your distance at the party. Because lately, every time you got near one another, even with Fae present, it was harder and harder not to be obvious. And with Mrs. Styles suspicious of him cheating (or something), then with Fae calling you out for dating someone… It would be best to not have any contact.

And you could handle that. You’d just had him over that morning. What was one evening of ignoring one another?

You and Fae both asked for a drink from the bartender as you munched on little tomato toasts. Everyone at the party was dressed as something or another. The music was loud and the space was crowded. It seemed like there were more people in attendance than ever.

You knew what Harry was dressing up as. You searched the room, trying not to be too obvious that you were looking for anyone in particular. He told you that he would be going as, “Harry Potter, but sexy.” You didn’t know what that meant but you did understand why he thought it was so funny to be dressed as Harry Potter after he explained.

“Because my name is Harry. Get it?” He grinned as he took a large bite of the pizza he held in his hand.

“Harry Potter because your name is Harry? You’re so… clever?” You teased and Harry let out a “heeey” before tackling you down to your couch, “Why’s that so funny? It is clever in fact!”

“It’s so genius. You’re really so smart. Everyone’s gonna be amazed!” You laughed as you spoke dramatically before Harry started tickling your ribs and peeling your shirt upward.

Needless to say, you two soon forgot all about costume talk once he flipped you over and spanked you playfully.

“Jenna’s here!” Fae whisper-shouted into your ear as she handed you your drink.

You followed her gaze and sure enough. There she was. Jenna was a bitch. Not someone you liked being around. But she lived in the neighborhood so she was always invited to the big neighborhood parties thrown at the Baylor’s.

“God, what is she wearing? It’s like… nothing…” Fae scoffed as she pulled you into a different room away from Jenna. You couldn’t tell what Jenna intended to be. She was wearing a bikini with little mouse ears on her head and bright red lips. Honestly, it looked like she just wanted an excuse to wear a bikini for Halloween.

The moment you stepped into the room off the kitchen you spotted your sexy Harry Potter.

And he was quite sexy. He wasn’t wrong about that part.

Black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a red tie with yellow diagonal stripes. His shirt was barely buttoned, though, which is what you assumed he meant by sexy. And since his shirt wasn’t fully buttoned his tie was loose. You could see his pecs and down to the top of his butterfly tattoo. He was wearing glasses, though you noted they were not the round wire-framed ones Harry Potter is famous for. All complete with a plastic wand in hand.

He was talking to a few men, all had glasses with some kind of liquor. You spotted Mrs. Styles on the other side of the room with her sister and another woman chatting.

You knew that she and Harry still hadn’t quite worked things out. She was still staying with her sister but she did arrive at the party with Harry (you knew this because he told you). You wondered if they talked alone before coming. Wondered if things felt very awkward between them still or if Mrs. Styles was working on trying to be patient with him. Or maybe she was already at the house when he arrived and she asked him where he’d been? And why he needed to shower right away (because he certainly hadn’t had the chance to shower before he left your apartment that morning).

When he finally saw you he took a sip of whatever was in his glass, whisky it appeared, and then grinned before looking back at the man he was speaking to. You looked down at your nude platform heels and beamed widely. You didn't want anyone to see you randomly smiling like an idiot.

Eventually, you and Fae found yourselves on the dance floor laughing, slightly tipsy. You had to cut yourself off, though, because you still had to drive home. You had a morning shift at the restaurant, unfortunately, and Fae told you to use her car since you were going to be picking her up after your shift for a late lunch anyway. She planned on staying at her dad’s house.

Your dancing was suddenly interrupted by Jenna and another girl, “Fae, isn’t that your dad?”

You both looked in the direction Jenna was gesturing with her chin toward Harry who was dancing like a goofball. Some of the guys he’d been talking to were moving to the beat and laughing as Harry was entertaining them with his “graceful” moves. The man just did not care what people thought of him as long as he got a laugh.

“Yeah. So?” Fae stopped swaying her hips and turned back toward Jenna.

“He’s single right?” Jenna laughed and took another sip of her drink.

Fae scoffed and looked at you with shock and then back to Jenna, “No. He’s not. He’s married to my mother. What is it that you’re getting at here?”

Now you weren’t dancing anymore as you looked between Jenna and Fae. Fae and Jenna had long been enemies. When they were younger Fae won an art competition that Jenna was part of. Jenna didn’t even place but she hated Fae after that. And then in their senior year of high school, Fae’s boyfriend was caught cheating on her with none other than Jenna. And Fae retaliated by egging Jenna’s car inside and out. And uncooked egg on a black car in the summer heat leaves irreversible damage. They even had to get the parents involved. It was a whole fiasco.

“Chill the fuck out. I just asked a question. Jesus. It’s like you’re always pissed or something.”

Fae stepped up closer to Jenna, “I’m not the one asking about a married man. Can you please leave? We were having fun before you interrupted us with your dumb-ass question.”

Jenna grinned and took another sip of her drink, “I heard he and your mother were having issues and I just assumed they were headed toward divorce if not already. My bad,” she leaned in closer, “but between us ladies, just because he’s married doesn’t mean he’s not a typical man with needs.” And with that, she turned and walked away with her sidekick in tow.

“Fucking bitch!” Fae spoke under her breath.

You took her arm, “She’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Ignore her. She’s dumb.”

“Yeah. I know she’s dumb. But I wouldn’t put it past her to try something. We both know how she is.”

You both looked toward where Jenna and her friend were headed and you could see she was aimed directly at Harry. This time, you were about to throw the girl down onto the floor as you let your feet carry you toward them because when you saw her put her grubby hand on Harry’s shoulder to get his attention it had you seeing red.

Fae pulled at Jenna and began reaming into her, “What is your problem?!” She went off as Jenna was pushed away from Harry and you stood there fuming as you watched the pair.

Harry’s smirk slowly grew wider as he noticed your scowl, “You okay, Y/n?” But he knew what you were upset about.

You looked up at him and the anger you were feeling at some other girl trying for your man (even though you couldn’t claim him as your man) all but dissipated. His handsome face had you immediately feeling better.

“Just can’t stand that chick,” You said as you looked from where Fae and Jenna were then back to Harry.

He licked his lips and you saw him look around the room quickly before bringing his gaze back to yours, “So this mansion is huge, isn’t it?”

His smile was cheeky. You could read him like the back of your hand as you grinned at him.

“It sure is.”

“Wonder what’s upstairs? Probably a bunch of empty rooms not being used. Rooms with beds. Locks on doors…” he spoke quietly toward you before swiveling his head around again to check if anyone was watching you.

You swallowed and nodded, “I’m certain there are.”

Harry wetted his strawberry lips with his tongue, “Be a good girl for me and go find us a hidden room and text me. Just wanna kiss you a little.”

It felt like an illegal mission. You snuck up the stairs and continually looked behind yourself to make sure no one had seen you. Luckily the staircase wasn’t in the main room so there weren’t any spectators to spot you. At least you hoped not.

The hallway was dimly lit and there were many rooms. Some of the doors were open and some were closed. Your heart raced as you walked to the furthest part of the hallway in search of a room that didn’t belong to anyone. A spot where you and Harry wouldn’t be discovered.

The first door you opened you put up a little prayer that no one was inside. You honestly didn’t know what you’d find, but the room was off the main hallway and at the back. It felt like a spot that wouldn’t be used for a master bedroom or often used at all.

It appeared to be a type of ‘catch-all’ room. There was a desk but it was bare. A couch against the wall with a cover over it. A lamp in the corner. A bed that was bare of sheets and pillows, just a mattress. Some boxes in another corner. It felt like the perfect room for a sneaky kiss with Harry.

You texted Harry which room you were in and then walked around toward the desk. Opening the drawers revealed them to be completely empty. The boxes in the corner were filled with blankets, sheets, and linens.

You walked toward the couch and kneed up on it to look out the window behind. It faced the side of the lot but you could see a few people outside smoking and drinking. You could even hear some laughter.

Suddenly you heard the door open slowly and turned just as Harry was stepping in and closing the door behind himself.

Standing from the couch, and as if in a cheesy romantic drama, you both quickly walked toward one another and pasted your lips together, embracing tightly.

Harry’s chest was on display as you slid your hands over his pecs and then grabbed at his loose tie, “This is hot, Harry. You look really good in this.”

He breathed out a laugh and began to step you backward toward the couch, “So do you. You could wear a garbage bag and still look like the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he grabbed your hips and turned you as he sat down and pulled you with him, your thighs spreading to straddle his lap.

You both laughed at the collapse into the couch.

“Just needed to hold you. Makes me feel better,” he spoke quietly as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Was she at the house when you got home?” You knew you shouldn’t ask. Your timing was awful but you felt like you needed to know. Wanted some idea of where he was mentally. And with his comment about feeling better, it made you wonder.

Harry sighed and placed his hands on your thighs, “Let’s not talk about that right now. Just want to enjoy my girl.”

You opened your mouth to respond but were quieted as soon as Harry’s lips met yours again. Harry smoothed his hands down your back and cupped your bottom into his palms before squeezing. He moaned into your mouth and you felt the fabric of your short, gauzy dress lift upward until his hands were on your naked bottom.

You were wearing a nude thong to which he slid his finger under the fabric that covered the space between your cheeks and you laughed.

Harry backed from the kiss, “My baby. Fuck, Y/n. Wish we could just dance and make out in front of everyone down there. Not give a fuck…” he leaned in and attached his lips to your neck and you gasped when he nudged at your anus with his finger, circling it softly before squeezing your ass cheeks again. The faux glasses he was wearing were sort of getting in the way so you lifted your hands to pull them off, as hot as they looked on him.

You leaned your neck back for his access as he worked his way down the front of your throat and to your clavicle before pushing your top down and revealing your tits. You weren’t wearing a bra. His mouth covered your right breast, lapping and sucking as you put your hands behind you to grasp onto his thighs.

He switched to your left breast and moaned before looking up at you. You were staring toward the ceiling with your lips parted at his soft lips on your tits.

Suddenly he parted from your breasts and let go of you. You looked down toward where his hands had moved and saw him undoing his buckle and his pants.

You grinned, “Thought you just wanted to kiss, Harry.”

Harry laughed and shook his head, “I can tell you need to be fucked, honey. Just gonna give you what you need.”

When he unzipped his pants he kept his erection tucked into his underwear as he pushed your skirt up to your hips and scooted himself out a little, giving you more space. He leaned his back into the cushion and brushed his fingers up your thighs then looked up at you as he pulled the crotch of your panties to the side of your pussy and ran his finger through your labia gently, immediately coating his fingers.

You smiled at him and bit your lip when he groaned and then quickly pushed his underwear down and pulled his pants lower to properly pull his cock out.

You cooed as you wrapped your hand around him and began to pump him. He was hard and warm like always. You loved his cock so much. It was as if every time he brought it out you lost all your brain cells and only wanted to be used by him. However, he needed. A place for him to come and a wet hole to fuck. You couldn’t say you’d ever felt that way about any guy you’d ever slept with, always wanting to have some appearance of control. But with Harry? He made you feel safe which translated to you feeling vulnerable out of your mind desperate for him.

You both stared at one another as you stroked his long cock and he circled over your clit. You wiggled your hips as you scooted yourself in closer, lifting your bum off of his lap slightly so you could press yourself into his hand.

Harry laughed, “Need something baby? Tell me what you want.”

You rolled your eyes and puffed out a laugh as Harry moved his fingers from your clit to your face and you rubbed your wet pussy onto his cock with a moan, writhing your hips up and down pathetically, “You already said what you were gonna do…”

Harry tsk’d at you and put his hands on your chin, “Take what you need then. Go on. Get yourself off.”

You shook your head and chuckled, “You don’t need it, too?”

“Baby, you better move fast. People are gonna start wondering where we are.”

You realized he was right. Though he was the one playing games, trying to make it look like you were the one who was desperate, you had no time to waste.

You angled yourself up and lifted your hips, sticking his wide fleshy crown at your entrance. One hand on his shoulder, your other keeping his heavy cock in place as you pushed down over him.

Sparkles and electric light filled your body as you smoothed him inside of you. Slowly you sunk down and lifted up, then back down to coat him fully.

Harry kept one hand on your bottom and his other at your thigh as he groaned softly, “Fuck yes…”

You connected your mouths when you first began to ride him leisurely to keep your pitiful sounds to a minimum. Harry’s thickness always astonished you. He was fun to ride for sure, but it was work with how big he was. Long and wide.

“Oh god, Harry…” you breathed against his lips as he began to thrust into you from his spot below. He planted his feet flat onto the floor and moved his hips upward, nudging his tip into your tummy over and over again.

You bit your lip as you looked down between where you were connected. His cock was soaked, the hair at his base was going to take your scent with him until he showered. The gushy little sounds of your wet pussy being stuffed always sounded so lewd. The springs in the couch were creaking gently with your rhythm.

You leaned yourself back further, putting your hands onto his thighs when he began bucking his hips up into you, fucking you harder and making you jolt upward at each thrust.

You were breathing heavily, doing your best to keep your moans to a minimum but to your surprise, Harry was being quite vocal despite the circumstances.

His choked groans and gasps in the room were so sexy and the way he was fucking you felt so good you almost didn’t care if anyone did hear you.

Harry leaned in to attach his lips back onto your tits in an attempt to keep himself quiet but he was fucking into you so hard he had to bob his head up and down with your body to keep your breasts in his mouth.

Besides the moaning and the squeak of the couch, the sound of wet skin slapping together only grew louder the more muscle he put into his movements.

The friction from how quickly and how deeply he was fucking into you had your head spinning and you cried out, “Oh shit!” as he hit a particularly achy little spot on your insides.

Harry’s cock moved along your creamy walls, slipping in deep and then pulling out slightly, as your tits bounced from his thrusts.

You hadn’t meant to be so loud but Harry didn’t seem to be bothered by it when he coughed out a loud moan of his own, “S’that feel good, baby?”

“God… Fuck! Yes, Harry…” you gasped your words between breaths.

“Yeah? I can tell, baby. Feels so good doesn’t it? Love having your pussy split in half like this? Love getting fucked and stuffed with my come?”

Harry’s hips were glued to yours now. You were sat flush over him, achy and deep, rolling your pelvis downward over him for friction on your clit.

“Yes, Harry,” your words were moaned quietly, “Love your come,” you kept your eyes pinned to his.

“Fuck. Such a pretty fertile pussy I get to fill up whenever I want. Get to dump my come inside of you and get you pregnant. Yeah?” You were nodding your head yes at his words as you panted, “Want to take you off birth control. Make you all mine.”

“I’m gonna come, Harry… oh my god!”

Harry groaned when you hastened your pace with your hips and you gripped his shoulders tight. The sloppy wet noise between you two and Harry’s filthy words were ringing in your ear.

God, you’d do anything he asked. If that’s what he really wanted, well you’d have his babies. Fuck you were crazy for thinking it but you would. And just that thought alone had you gripping his cock tight as you spasmed over him in pulses.

Harry dropped his mouth open and panted loudly as he scrunched his face and lathered your walls and your guts with his hot come. He held you down over his cock and you held in the squeal you wanted to let out as you gasped and watched his face as he came unglued.

He was loud. He was being more vocal than maybe ever. Which was surprising given that you were in a house (well a mansion) with nearly 100 other people, two of them being his wife and his daughter who could go searching for either of you at any minute if they weren’t already.

When Harry had begun to slow his breathing he opened his eyes to see you already watching him.

“You came really hard, Harry,” you smirked. As much as he acted like you were the one who needed something, you knew he always needed it as much as you did.

“Fuck. I know. That’s what you do to me.”

You laughed, “But you were extra loud just then. Like, there are people here.”

You slid off of his lap and he helped steady you before standing up himself. You were both pretty much put together. Harry just had to do his pants back up, put his glasses back on, and smooth out his hair.

While you only needed to find a bathroom to wipe up.

You stood to your tip toes to kiss his lips.

“This is the second really risky thing we’ve done today.” You looked at him with your brows raised, “What’s gotten into you?”

Harry grinned at you lovingly as he tilted his head and threaded his finger through yours, “Couldn’t say. All I know is you’ve got me under some kind of magic spell.”

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houserautha · 3 months

Text

These Destined Ends

Part 1

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none for this chapter. Masterlist of warnings overarching the series

A/N: Hello! If you’re here then there’s probably something wrong with you too, so let’s be friends. I haven’t been able to write anything lately until I saw the latest Dune movie and then all of my thoughts became dedicated to Feyd-Rautha. I must get these thoughts out. Help. Me.

“Chin up.”

Your mother brushes your hair back, bronze, like hers, and lifts your chin. Her gaze is critical. You stare back, thinking only of the things that she will find fault in you. An endless amount, you muse. The slightest flicker of expression on Lady Jessica’s face informs you that she suspects what you’re thinking. Your teeth grit.

“Must you do that?” You hiss through your painted lips. The servants have dressed you specially for the occasion. A floor-length black dress and, settled on your shoulders, a red cape clasped together with the House of Atreides insignia.

Jessica withdraws her hand. Your mother radiates femininity and power, a feat you’ve yet reached. Even the cool way in which she regards you drips with regality.

“Do what?” She asks, feigning innocence.

“Don’t make me say it.”

Jessica’s blue eyes harden. “You don’t have to, daughter. It’s plain enough.”

Mother and daughter stare at one another.

She tried to teach you the ways of the Bene Gesserits, but you failed to take to it. You were too expressive, too…volatile. You struggled to detect the slightest change in voice, you could never sit still long enough to study, and your facial features always betrayed you. The only aspect you succeeded in was combat — there was no need to mask your feelings, your thoughts, able to just completely lend yourself to the blade.

But it wasn’t enough.

“You’re fortunate the Reverend Mother has chosen to see through with this arrangement,” Jessica all but snarls. “There’s hope for you still, in form of an heir.”

The Kwisatz Haderach.

The only reason your mother still spoke to you, affords you any attention at all. The fact that you’ve been painstakingly bred to produce him: a Bene Gesserit of male origin, capable of accessing the memories of his ancestors and see through time and space itself.

A terrible mantle for an unborn child.

In the black of night, you sometimes lay your hand on your abdomen and utter apologies to the egg nestled in your ovary; burdened with horrible purpose. If only you could avoid its fate. But you were not even in control of your own.

“I want to stay here,” you plea finally, pitifully.

Jessica steps away from you, brushes off her skirt. “You know that you cannot.”

“I can help Father,” you insist. “You know that he worries about gaining the approval of the Fremen. I can —”

“Enough!” The Voice. It snaps your mouth shut and renders you mute. “This is bigger than both of us.” Jessica snatches your upper arm, pulls you close enough to feel the heat of her anger. “Your father wanted a son. A heir. But it was my duty to produce a daughter. I ignored the pleas of your father because I understand what it is to serve. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

You swallow your disgust, though it lingers like a foul taste on your tongue.

This isn’t the first time that your mother has told you this. Nor did you think it would be the last.

Perhaps making a home among your enemies would be better than staying here among family.

“Fine,” you say. You wrench your arm from her grasp then turn away. It’s futile, you know the heighliner will be here soon to whisk you away, but you can’t stand to be in the presence of your mother any longer. Fortunately she lets you go.

You’re not even aware of where your feet are taking you until the familiar sound of the baliset meets your ears. Gurney rests lazily on the ground in the massive corridor, back against the wall and string instrument in his scarred hands. He doesn’t look at you as you approach nor when you collapse down beside him.

Usually Gurney’s situationally appropriate songs bring you a modicum of comfort, but today it seems more ominous than insightful.

“I won’t miss your singing,” you say.

He stops playing. “You jest.”

Playfully, you crack open one eye and peer at his baffled expression. You try not to laugh. “I don’t.” A sigh escapes your mouth then, and you slump further down, uncaring if you rumple your gown. “I will, however, miss the singer.”

“Don’t bother appealing to an old man like me. It won’t get you anywhere.”

“Hm,” is all you say, lost in thought.

Gurney sets the baliset to the side. His hand finds your knee and he squeezes. “You will be fine, Lady Y/N. I’ve taught you well.”

“Not even what you’ve taught me will suffice for what I’m up against.”

“Nonsense.”

Both eyes open now, you stare pleadingly at the swordsmaster. “Just come with me. Please.”

It’s Gurney’s turn to sigh. With a groan he heaves himself to his feet and offers you a hand. “You know that I can’t,” he murmurs.

His loyalty to your father doesn’t extend to you.

He is Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, after all. And you are just his daughter. A pawn. A womb and nothing more.

You reach out to ghost your fingers over the scar on Gurney’s cheek. “Tell me about them.”

The Harkonnens.

“There’s nothing you don’t already know or haven’t learned from the filmbooks,” Gurney says to you in a terribly soft voice. It’s unfitting of the great soldier. “They are a cruel people. Do not trust them.”

You nod, irrationally devastated that your final plea to Gurney did not work. But his words were not anything new.

Nothing you learned about the Harkonnens has been pleasant — from their oppressive rule and misogynistic society down to their industrialized homeworld. Your chest aches.

First you were forced to leave the lush beauty of Caladan for Arrakis. You had even grown admittedly fond of the desert planet, just to yet again be snatched from another home.

“Thank you, Gurney. For everything.”

He dips his chin in acknowledgment, then holds out his arm for you to take.

Gurney has been like a second father to you over the years. While Leto was out securing political alliances and holding meetings, it was Gurney who kept you company. He aided in your combat training and believed in you when no one else did. To lose him would be to lose a great friend, indeed.

By the time you return to the antechamber where you’d been, Leto has arrived. He looks as cunning and handsome as ever, and the smile he flashes you is enough to cut you to the bone.

If what Jessica said was true about your father wanting a son and being sorrowful he did not get one, you would never know. He has only ever made you feel loved.

“My beautiful daughter,” he greets you. He smells wonderful. The same way he did all of those years ago when he would tell you stories of your grandfather and tuck you into bed, his beard tickling your cheek.

You breathe him in for one of the last times. “Hello, father.”

“You look marvelous,” he says. His smile falters slightly. “Are you ready? I wanted to ensure that you’ve said your goodbyes before we leave.”

Bitterly, you think, Before I leave. Everyone else will return to Arrakis and you will be moored on Giedi Prime, married to a bloodthirsty monster and forced to grow round with his child.

The thought makes your knees tremble.

The Harkonnens controlled the fiefdom of Arrakis before your family and were unbelievably outraged that it, and the flow of spice, had been stolen from them. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what your reception on their planet will be like. It’s any luck if you don’t get slaughtered upon arrival.

Especially since the Baron’s nephew, the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha — your betrothed — was known for his brutal nature. You hoped stupidly that the arrangement of marriage and promise of an heir would be enough to keep you alive.

At least for awhile.

Feyd-Rautha killed his own mother. Who knew what the status of wife meant to him?

“I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer Leto. He squeezes your hand.

You hug Gurney goodbye then board onto the heighliner after your parents. It’s difficult to suppress the tears threatening to fall as the ship takes off in a flurry of sand and departs.

Normally you’d be completely enraptured with the endless golden dunes, but today you stay rooted to your seat and refrain from crying.

The flight to Giedi Prime happens much too quickly for your liking. Already your heart is in your throat, hammering out your nerves in a steady rhythm.

The view from your seat reveals the strange nature of your new home — a black sun. Never again will you see the stretch of blue sky from Caladan or feel the formidable heat of Arrakis. The entire world outside the ship stood in sharp black and white contrast, all color drained from the surroundings and its people.

You spy hoards of Harkonnens gathering beyond the ship, awaiting the arrival of the na-Baron’s wife and their future Baroness.

Your stomach churns. How could you ever lead such ugly, wicked people?

Jessica’s voice engulfs you. “Chin up,” she says again to your dismay. “You mustn’t show any weakness. Not here.”

You raise your chin the slightest amount. Jessica nods stiffly in approval, and it’s in that moment you understand that your mother’s harshness has been preparing you for this. While you hardly feel the urge to forgive her, an odd sense of calm washes over you.

You are an Atreides. And you always will be.

No one can take that from you.

The boarding ramp disengages and you’re the first one to step onto it. A hush of silence befalls the crowds.

You stride forward with as much confidence as you can muster, focusing not on the leering eyes of the Harkonnens but instead on the Baron’s fortress. A large pathway separates you from it, granting you plenty of time to get your fill. It’s as grand as it is excessively boastful; tall, pointed towers cleverly connected, all sharp lines and edges. It leaves the impression of a finely crafted dagger.

A display of power and wealth.

Behind you your parents emerge and the carefully observant crowd launches into disarray — shouts and yells of anger, of hatred, grate your ears. You know that they take it in stride, however, and their strength fortifies your own.

By the time you’ve crossed the distance from the heighliner to the inner walls of the fortress, your eyes are blurried by the strong contrast outside now given away to darkness. It takes a few moments for you to adjust. When you do, you quickly look over your surroundings.

There’s few decorations or art. It’s cold and impersonal and extremely clinical.

Your slippered feet reverberate off the high ceilings.

Bracing yourself, seemingly, has been for no reason. For it’s not the Baron and his nephew that meet you but rather a line of Harkonnen soldiers. Their faces are stoic.

You bristle. “Where is the Baron? And my betrothed? Do they not wish to receive us?”

The soldiers do not answer.

A man appears then from down the hall, a Mentat by the look of him. He’s pale and bald and clad in black like the other Harkonnens.

“My apologies, Lady Y/N,” the Mentat says. “My name is Piter de Vries. I am here to escort you. The Baron and na-Baron will receive you now in the throne room.”

Leto lays a hand on your arm as if to stifle your response. “Please, Piter, lead the way.”

You can’t help but glance curiously at your father. This entire situation was delicate, you knew, but you wonder at his subservience. It’s an insult not to be immediately greeted by their hosts, especially when your guests happen to be the Duke of Arrakis, his concubine, and their daughter. If Leto agrees with this affront, though, he doesn’t show it.

Leto simply strides after Piter with you and your mother in pursuit.

The fortress boasts sleek walls and floors, polished to perfection. Piter guides you to the throne room a short distance away, the sight of it stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s larger than any room you’ve seen before, outfitted on the far side with steps leading up to a grand dais.

And upon the dais, demanding your attention, is Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. The man is as large as the throne room itself but not nearly as impressive, pale and beastly, his enormous weight supported by suspenders. He makes no movement as you enter.

Your gaze moves quickly, eagerly, away from him.

Standing on either side of the dais are his two nephews. Aware that you can’t stand to face your betrothed yet, you fix your attention on his brother. Rabban, you recall his name.

Rabban is bound with hard muscle and swathed in what you can only describe as thinly veiled anger. At his side, his fists clench and unclench restlessly.

Then, without permission, you look to your future husband.

Feyd-Rautha stands as tall as Rabban but roped instead with lean, attractive muscle. His brow sits above dark eyes and a generous mouth. There’s a frightening intensity to the way he stands, encapsulating both nonchalance and a dangerous arrogance. Clearly this man is used to getting his way and will stop at nothing to do so.

And it’s this man that makes no effort to disguise the way he studies you, starting at the top of your head and trickling languidly downward.

A chill dances down your spine.

When he catches this, catches you watching him — he must’ve known that you were — his lips twitch into the faintest of smirks.

Part 2

#dune part two #dune #feyd x you #feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd smut

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bones4thecats · 5 months

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What If They Were Fathers?

Type of Writing: #5 - Poll Result Characters: Bonten! Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho, and Hajime Kokonoi Name: What If They Were Fathers? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: The Reader is FEMALE in this, since they're pregnant and whatnot.

WARNING! This contains: Mentions of drugs, overdoses, alcohol addiction, and drug addiction

Spoilers for: Bonten Arc

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🍵 It shocked Mikey enough that you still loved him even though he wasn't the same happy-go-lucky boy he was years ago, instead, he grew into a emotionless and dead-appearing individual

🍵 So, when he heard that you were pregnant, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a small bit of love grow inside his now cold-heart

🍵 Mikey was very good when it came to caring for you during your pregnancy, he would have the others go get you things you needed, since he suspected someone was after him and you

🍵 After all, being pregnant slows down a woman from whooping ass

🍵 It was surprising, but, when you went into labor and you were yelling at him as he tried calming you down, Mikey stayed as calm as ever

🍵 He would slightly flinch at the loud screams of pain you let out, and he was honestly kinda scared he may lose you when the gang's doctor rushed you to lay down and stay calm

" Mr. Sano, sir, would you like to hold your baby? "

🍵 Looking behind him, he stared at his first child, a son, and he felt a shimmer of happiness and sadness rush through him at the same time, it reminded him of when he first met Emma, how he cared for her automatically without any reason

🍵 As he held your baby, he let a tear rush down his cheek as you chuckled at his small moment of vulnerability, something he swore he would never show was in-fact showing, he was still human inside

🍵 Now, while your son grew up, Mikey was a hint of a helicopter-father, he runs a very dangerous organization, one that is being hunted by authorities constantly, and he had enough to do when worrying about you, but, his son was so similar to younger him

🍵 The boy would run up to strangers and make them laugh without a care in the world as Mikey would hide himself deeper in a hoodie while you got your son back to you guys

🍵 But, despite many beliefs, he's a decent father

🍵 Mikey would put some things behind and would play with his son, for example, if his son wanted to mess around with some sock puppets and make a story, Mikey would indulge him and mess with him, making his voice deepen and rise for his son's laugh to erupt

🍵 He does have his faults though, as his work can end up making his son mature faster than a child should, or he could end up saying or doing something that upset you, making his son start disconnecting with him

🍵 Overall, he's a 7.5/10 father, he's good in certain situations and bad in others

🔪 Sanzu and you have known one another for years, planting the first time you ever met nearly 10 years prior to this one

🔪 When he went through the years of torturous addictions, whether it be to alcohol or drugs that he somehow got a hold of through means even you didn't know of, you were always there to pull him away

🔪 Because of those issues, he had no idea why you settled for him of all people, you were so beautiful, you could've gotten with any other member of Bonten, maybe even his own boss

🔪 But, you settled with him, the guy who had nearly overdosed from his drugs and alcohol multiple times

🔪 While pushing those hateful thoughts of himself to the back of his brain, Sanzu had gone through multiple attempts of rehabilitation, and after a few failures and your threat of leaving him, he began taking it seriously, he loves you and he needs you to be there

🔪 It took a while, but, once he made it to your first milestone of a year of sobriety, you gave him a reward, which led to something bigger than expected

🔪 You had gotten pregnant, leaving Sanzu is shock, and his brain nearly, nearly, slipped away to him grabbing a large bottle of whiskey and wine mixed with a large bag of his old drugs

🔪 In the midst of his panic-attack, it took Kakucho's words of affirmation with his boss' assurance of him getting a form of paternity leave to just calm him down

🔪 He takes excellent care of you during your pregnancy, and that carried onto him as a father, to a degree, that is

🔪 When you went into labor, he was panicking badly, he had nearly passed out when you began to scream in pain, and during this mass of chaos, the doctor had to usher Ran and Rindou to take him out of the room

🔪 Hearing your screams of agony stop made his heart sink, what happened? Were you okay? How was his baby? Oh God, what if he lost you and the baby?! How would he live with himself?!

" Mr. Haruchiyo, your wife and daughter are in perfect condition. Would you like to come and see them? " " Yes! I- I mean, yes, please. "

🔪 When he held your daughter for the first time, he swore on his life he would protect you guys from everything, including himself. And, that day, he swore to stay sober for good. No fuck ups this time, he couldn't, no, he wouldn't risk harming his child and his own wife

🔪 Ever since your daughter was born, the rest of Bonten began to hide their deals from your home more often, by orders of Mikey, since, he knew how a traumatizing childhood can affect someone

🔪 Sanzu loves to play with her, for example, at just a few months old until she was around maybe seven years old, he would pick her up and toss her in the air for him to catch

🔪 Unlike Mikey, Sanzu doesn't really fear anyone harming his child, if they were a boy that is, he has a full-fledged belief that boys are far more feared than women, so, whenever his daughter starts talking to a stranger, he glares from behind her to make sure that random guy didn't even attempt touching her

🔪 He definitely tries holding back his tears during her first day of school, or really during any massive part of her life, especially when she graduated and moved out, his baby was so old now... he's getting back pain!

" Dad... I'm just moving across the street in another apartment, don't worry! I'll come see you and Mom whenever I can! Please don't cry! " " I'm not crying about that! Your Mother swat a fly earlier, I feel bad for the fly! "

❤️‍🔥 This guy is the definition of husband and father material, that I cannot deny

❤️‍🔥 When you guys started dating, he always had the idea of your future, from marriage to having children, whenever he would come home from a fight all injured, he would ask you if this was what you really wanted

❤️‍🔥 Did you really want to be with him? For crying out loud, he could get possibly killed at any time! This especially set in when you guys lost Izana (I believe that still happens... correct me if I'm wrong!)

❤️‍🔥 It still shocks him to this day on the fact you married him, he worked for Bonten, a gang very well known for their heinous actions, all members, including Kakucho himself, have done horrible things, how could you look him in the eye, nonetheless propose having children?

❤️‍🔥 You really surprise him at every turn, don't you?

❤️‍🔥 He smiled and gave you the thumbs up. Thankfully, it didn't take very long for you to find out you were pregnant, and as your stomach grew, he read many books on parenthood, he couldn't risk his child having a childhood as rough as he did

❤️‍🔥 When you went into labor, he was scared out of his mind, all of a sudden the floor was wet and you were heaving over in pain, leaving him to carry you bridal-style as he ran to Bonten's doctor

" I think they're in labor, Doctor! " " Girls! Get her in the delivery room, stat! "

❤️‍🔥 Hearing you scream in pain made him flinch as Kokonoi and Takeomi tried keeping him from busting down the door to comfort you

❤️‍🔥 Once the doctor came outside of the room and asked for him to come inside, he burst past the man dressed in scrubs and hugged you as you laid on the bed with a blanket in your arms

❤️‍🔥 You hushed him and held up your baby girl's head, and when your husband laid eyes on his daughter, he began to tear up, he really started crying was when she gripped his finger with her tiny fist

❤️‍🔥 You guys really made this? How surprising is this, huh?

❤️‍🔥 As your son grew up, Kakucho adores messing with her hair, he always had his in a buzz-cut as he grew older, so, whenever she asked for him to braid her hair when she was small, he obliged and gave her such a cute hairstyle!

❤️‍🔥 Kakucho obligates his family in first place alongside his work, though, since he was one of the top four people in Bonten, he got quite busy, but, he always tries pushing it all away as best as he could

❤️‍🔥 Thankfully, Mikey was more lenient with that since he knew of Kakucho's family-oriented life

❤️‍🔥 He is definitely one of the best fathers in the Tokyo Revengers Universe, he wants his child to grow up in a world where they feel wanted, and that roots deep with his own childhood

❤️‍🔥 This guy is also very protective, he's lost so many people, his best friend, Izana, for example

❤️‍🔥 Anyone tries harming his daughter, there will be hell to pay.

💰 Kokonoi, much like Kakucho, is still surprised that you wanted to be with him, but, he's also surprised that he was still with you... he believed that after the loss of Akane that he would never love again

💰 Thankfully, when you came into his life during the earlier years of Bonten to help with some issues with relations between gangs, Kokonoi began to bond with you

💰 When he asked you to marry him after a few months of dating and a couple weeks of courting, he remembers exactly how you smiled when you confirmed you wanted the same as him

💰 Kokonoi has enough resources to care for his family, so, when you proposed having children, he wasn't very worried about expenses, this guy knows so many ways of making money that even the richest people in the world would be baffled

💰 He was very excited when you found out you were having a baby, nonetheless when it was found out to be twins

💰 During your early months of pregnancy, he would grab everything for female babies and male babies, since the gender was hard to tell until your fifth month

💰 This guy was on cloud nine when notified you were both genders

💰 Now he doesn't have to worry about Mikey being mad that he bought so much male and female items for these babies

💰 Anyways, when you eventually went into labor, Kokonoi was as calm as a butterfly on the outside, while on the inside he was like a swarm of angry geese, thoughts flying faster than the snitch in Harry Potter

💰 He stayed in the room with you, allowing you to squeeze his hand, despite the immense pain you were bringing to his hands, he probably was getting bruises from your hold

💰 When the sounds of your first baby's cries entered his ears, he swore he forgot all about the pain in his hands, but, when his daughter came out just a few minutes later, his heart swooned

💰 If you've seen Friends, you might be familiar when Frank Jr. ran out to the gang and was yelling about his first child's birth, oh yeah, he definitely does that

" Yes! We have the first one down! I cannot believe I have a son... oh God! I have a Hajime Jr.! " " Has your wife even agreed to that name, Kokonoi? " " Nope! "

💰 Kokonoi held his son, whom you had to turn down his ideas of naming him Hajime Jr., and you held your daughter, and you had to turn down him naming her Sanzu-ia, he loves pissing Sanzu off too much...

💰 As your babies grew up, Kokonoi spoiled them beyond belief, and you had to hold him back from doing something stupid, like buying a TV show because his little baby girl wanted to meet a character she loved

💰 While the two grew up, he, much like Sanzu, cries at mass events for them, but, unlike Sanzu, he doesn't try holding himself back from showing his emotions to his children, prompting their embarrassment and you laughing at their antics

" Dad... please stop crying, God you're so embarrassing me... " " I can't! My babies are growing up so fast! Can you believe that just eighteen years ago you're mother was pushing you out of her- " " DAD! "

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breadly-art · 4 months

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I often see people saying that Miguel hates children. All I can say to such people is that their views are too shallow. And that's why they're wrong:

Let's think logically. Miguel, like the entire HQ, is sure that the violation of canon events will result in the destruction of the entire universe. He has reason to believe so - before his eyes, the whole world disappeared through his own fault. That's it, it's all gone. Of course, Miguel will be sure that it is not worth violating the canon. Moreover, he knows that the universes are connected, and if you lose too many of them, then the entire multiverse will collapse, this is logical. It's like a spider web - the more holes there are in it, the sooner it will break.

Miguel leads a squad that maintains the stability of the canon by dealing with anomalies. He must be sure that each of the spider-men will be reliable enough to prevent a violation of the canon event. He has no other option, he will not just forget about the minor mistakes of any spider-man from the HQ. Not because he's angry and strict, but because the safety of all universes depends on it, God damn it.

He's in charge for a reason. He knows what he is doing and why, he knows what a mistake will cost. "I don't always like what I have to do. But I know that I have to be the one to do it." He knows that the canon event often costs someone their life, he knows that some spider-man will feel bad about it, but are there any other options?... Yes, in the question "one person or the whole universe" he chooses the universe, but that doesn't make him an asshole. He's trying to save millions of lives in the only reliable way he knows how.

And now back to his "hatred of children." Miles. Yes, I can understand his desire to save his father, but it could destroy his universe. And yes, it is not a fact that it will be destroyed, but judging by what Miguel saw, the chance of the collapse of the universe is GREAT. And it's not just about Miles's universe, it's about all universes. A web with many holes breaks faster. If saving the universes costs Miles's father's life, if Miguel has to keep Miles at HQ by force to prevent him from making a mistake, he will do it. I don't think Miguel likes it. But he knows he has to be the one to do it.

Gwen. A lot of people didn't like the way he treated her, but listen - there were reasons for that. As I said, Miguel needs to be confident in every spider-Man at HQ, it's a matter of keeping the universes safe. And Gwen let Miles go, let go of someone whose actions could destroy everything. Miguel can't count on her the way he used to, not after she let Pavitr's canon break and didn't catch Miles. He sends her home not because he hate her, but because the HQ is not a place for those who think with their gut. Here you need to think with your head, only this can be 100% sure. You can't make mistakes. HQ must not allow the disruption of the canon. They must not allow the chance of death of millions of people. So Miguel wasn't mad at Gwen. He was disappointed in her - because she couldn't make a hard choice.

For the same reason, he doesn't take Peter B. on a mission. Peter didn't stop Miles when he had the chance, but unlike Gwen, he hasn't questioned Miguel's theory about the canons yet. Peter believes him, but is clearly not sure what to do next. That's why Miguel takes Jess and Ben with him, the ones he's 100% sure of.

Next... Gwen's father. No one, damn it, keeps their finger on the trigger when they don't really want to shoot. Do you think he wouldn't have shot his own daughter? Oh no, he would have done it. And Miguel understood that - that's why he intervened, even though he shouldn't have been there. After all, remember - a vulture could disrupt some kind of canon event. But which one? Facereveal Gwen in front of her father, perhaps? Nevertheless, Miguel intervened. After all, he knows what it's like to deal with an Irish father named George, who is ready to raise his hand against a child.

And then, even seeing Gwen's insecurity after everything that happened, he suggests that she "join the club", he knows what it's like to be all alone. And he clearly doesn't want that for Gwen.

Miguel is not a bad character. Not a villain. He doesn't hate children. He's just trying to protect the universes the best he can, and he's ready to be the one who has to make the hard choice. I don't think he likes it all. He keeps doing it because he doesn't know any other way. He tried to find it - and the more he tried, the more damage he did. He’s only on the “prevent other worlds from being disrupted” step of this process and he’s already way past worn out.

Look at it from this angle - if you had been working on a project for a very long time, which you had already failed once (and it was so terrible that you don't want to remember), which required all your time and effort, required you to lead people you didn't know very well, required you to constantly make choices, after which you would they always looked askance, and you yourself would feel extremely lousy, but which would clearly benefit many people... And then there was a high chance that another person would ruin everything for you, because he has another untested work plan. And this person is not listening to you, this person is not interested in your arguments, he is absolutely stubborn. Wouldn't you freak out about it? Wouldn't you be angry? Wouldn't you try to stop this person with all your might? This is not hatred of children. It's a damn fear.

#breadly posts #miguel o'hara #atsv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #astv miguel #miguelito #miguel spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #text post

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

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I love your writing!! Could you do a short 1 or 2 part fiction based on this prompt: a highborn girl is to become Aemond's wife but she is a mute. Her other senses are well even though she isn't able to speak. She is youngest in her family and is extremely shy. No fiery bone in her body. Alicent coaxes her son into being betrothed to her due to Alicent having issues with high-born ladies not wanting to marry the prince due to his eye missing and his tendency to have a temper. They bond over reading and Aemond is enthralled with her beauty. Also Aemond never is a kinslayer in this story lol. Thank you!

Her Voice

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction | Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: I changed the request up a little and it's strange that I got this ask because I do actually have a stutter myself that was debilitating growing up, so I tried to shoehorn some feelings that I felt myself into this character, but hopefully I still did it justice (and I made it more about her intelligence cos I think Aemond would find that hot)?

Thank you for the request anon! Also thank you all for your love and comments I really love them! I can’t comment on them since this is a side-blog, but I appreciate you all!

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

"Do you think that any highborn woman with a brain between her eyes would desire to spend the rest of her life with a tempestuous prince?"

Alicent was circling the room, hands smoothing over one another to keep herself calm, doing this in exchange of picking at her fingernails, which her father hated. And with Otto sat brooding in the corner of the room, Alicent chose her actions wisely.

Aemond barely resisted the urge to roll his eye, one hand rested on one side of his face, disinterested. Another reprimand for his temper, his behaviour. He didn't realise his mother had it in her to keep on doing this for so long, especially after having a son like Aegon. But even then, her solution had been to marry him to his sister, and it was clear how well that ended. And how Aegon's actions persisted.

"Perhaps if they were not so empty-headed they would know to leave me be"

"Like it or not, you will be wed" Otto butted in, resulting in Aemond sending an annoyed glare, "It has been difficult enough to introduce ladies to you"

"Because they think me a monster" Aemond retorted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair beside him. His mother was still pacing around, a million thoughts banging around in her brain, working endlessly on how to resolve this. In truth, he did not enjoy seeing his mother in such distress and his heart to see her in this way more often than not.

"That is not true, Aemond" Alicent's voice was soft, as if he were still a child.

"True enough that it whispers through the court"

"A marriage and children with her would mean security in the Reach" Otto said simply. His mind forever focussed on matters political and never of the heart. Alicent was proof of this and at this quip, Aemond could see the discomfort it bought her.

"I do not wish to marry that loud-mouthed half-wit"

Every time Aemond protested, he could see his mother begin pacing around the room once more.

"At this rate, half the ladies in Westeros will have met that beast before you"

Aemond extended a hand out with a sigh, "It is no fault of mine that she is scared of Vhagar"

"It nearly landed on top of her, Aemond!" Alicent begged out and Aemond genuinely had to hold back a smile as he imagined Vhagar pinning the girls dress to the ground with her large claw. It had scared the girl stiff and her loud-mouthed was quickly stiffened from the presence of the largest dragon in the world before her. Her face pale as a sheet.

"Vhagar did not like her" he simply responded.

A moment passed in silence and Aemond nearly stood to leave when Alicent crossed her arms, her warm, brown eyes trained at her second son. Half in pride and half in scolding.

"There is of course, another choice" Alicent suggested quietly, taking a side glance at her father.

Now stood before his mother, seeing over her easily, he placed his arms behind his back, a brow was arched in not only question but anxiety at her suggestion.

"She has a younger sister, only half a year younger than you"

Aemond scoffed, "This is desperation"

"It is a suggestion" Alicent corrected. In front of her son, she seemed so small as she took his large hand in both of hers, her rings clicking together to rub her fingers over his skin, "See how you feel"

With a sigh, he took his leave.

There was no harm in trying.

The days seemed to pass the slowest and the Prince busied himself as he usually did, performing his duties. He trained with Ser Criston, he read books on various subjects and he rode on Vhagar in an attempt to tame this temper his mother so wanted gone. One that she thought would be solved by marriage.

But one insufferable thing he could never escape from, was court gossip.

It seemed so rampant and neverending that he wondered if the ladies ever did anything else.

On more than one occasion he heard the ladies talk in hushed whispers when he walked by.

"I heard his dragon almost ate her"

"I do not see what woman would want a man who looks like that"

"I think he looks rather handsome with it"

"Yes, but he has a quarrelsome temper. Blood of the dragon indeed"

"I heard her little sister is to join the court. His dragon may actually swallow her whole with any luck"

"She is a hollow little fool. I heard she has not spoken a word since she was a babe"

He knew better than to listen to any of it. But it seemed to impregnate the walls of the Keep, like a smell that won't go away. Slowly seeping out of the stone to skulk in heavy plunders of smoke across their feet. It smelled of deception and the feeling was so heavy, it was almost liquid.

Like oily blood.

He had barely paid attention to his mother as they all lined up outside the Keep, anticipating the sister's arrival. The older sister had been closest to the dirt road, wanting to see her siblings and father before anyone else. The Royals were all standing shoulder to shoulder at the top of the stone steps, Aemond's eye trained forwards, not focussed on anything in particular. Aegon wishing he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of a barrel of Dornish wine. And Helaena, whose gaze never found anyone's, staring at the ground, watching the ants disappear beneath her slipper.

Alicent almost jumped out of her skin as the lady screamed in delight seeing the familiar colours of her house on the side of the carriage, pulling up to a stop. Aemond's chest inflated and he tightened his grip behind his back, bracing for the undoubtedly emotionally painful exchange he was about to have.

The carriage door flung open and two brothers emerged, clearly a lot older than the sister had been, but nonetheless they scooped her up into a hug. Aemond raised an eyebrow and dared look over at his own brother, who was smiling back at him already, as if suggesting they should hug like that. And at this Aemond did roll his eye.

The three siblings were stuck like this for a moment, talking over and amongst each other like a clutter of turkeys and it was impossible to tell what they were actually saying. The father eventually found his footing outside the carriage, a small figure following small behind him, head lowered. The older sister wrapped her arms around her father's neck but she was quickly pushed away, and not a single one of them seemed to address the youngest, who blindly followed her father.

"Queen Alicent" the father addressed, taking her hand in his to kiss at the ring.

"My Lord, how nice it is to see you and your…family again" she swallowed her words and her roundabout manner made Aegon smile somewhat.

"And you, your Grace. I hope my daughter has been a grateful guest"

There was a faint echo in the background of her horrific laugh, the father closed his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the sound of it.

Alicent merely smiled, "I understand we are to receive your other daughter"

The father stepped aside, but the figure still remained relatively hidden, "Yes, although she is the slowest of my daughters, your Grace. She…finds it difficult to speak"

The father looked behind him again and gripped his other daughter's arm and Aemond noted how hard he held her, so much so that when he tore away the marks remained. And he wondered if he was so rough with his other daughter, the one he thought was the grace of his house.

The girl was presented before Alicent. Yes she shared features with her sister, but hers were much were smoothed out. Her sister, while sharp featured and cheeks plump, her eyes were too close together and her nose seemed unfit for her face. This sister however, her cheekbones were higher and eyes were almond-shaped and she had a faint mole next to her eye on one side.

Her eyes briefly met Alicent's and sent a small smile and a curtsy, doing the same to the Princes and Princess, but never really meeting any of their gazes directly.

"Your Grace, my youngest"

Aemond almost scoffed, he didn't even have the decency to address her by her birth name.

"As I say, your Grace, she is quite slow but her mind is nimble, her other senses remain…unaffected"

All the young woman could do was listen to her father's cruel words about her, her hands were clasped in front of her, one finger fiddling with a golden ring that was on a forefinger. Aemond's gaze raked over her form, the dress she wore just being a bit too tight and he wondered if it might have been in her ownership for a while and had grown too big for it. This made her chest swell against the fabric and her could not help but admire the way she fit into it as she inhaled and exhaled, the golden necklace against her chest moving as well.

It was as if she could feel his burning eye on her and her hand raised to her necklace to turn the pendant over, her gaze briefly meeting the one-eyed Prince's before her cheeks became flushed and averted instantly. In a strange turn of events, it made Aemond smirk, knowing that someone would blush in his presence.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can introduce you to the King" Alicent stepped side to side with her father, "Perhaps your children might amuse themselves"

Her father turned to face his children, a haggard expression on his face, "Make yourselves scarce"

The young woman merely watched as her siblings waltzed away without her, no doubt to drown themselves in drink. And she stood for a moment watching them enjoy themselves before feeling a hand grasp her elbow to find Aegon's face close to hers. She made a surprised sound.

"Extraordinary" he murmured, pulling the poor thing to walk with him, "How much I would give to have a woman who did not speak back"

She attempts to push herself away, but he was much stronger.

"I bet that mouth is as disgusting as those whores on the Street of Silk"

A hand clamped at Aegon's shoulder, shoving him away and the woman looked back to find Aemond parting the two with his body, a hand brushing against her arm to place her behind him.

"Brother, I do not think she desires your company"

With a focussed eye zoned in on his brother, Aemond failed to notice that she had himself wrapped his hand around her wrist. A wave of heat rose to her face s she looked down and saw how his large fingers easily took her, feeling the sheer body heat of the Prince next to her, so much so that she was able to smell the various musks that had attached themselves to him. A faint smell of leather from his clothes, whatever he used for his long, illustrious hair and then something akin to being around an animal. Was this what dragon smelled like? She wondered if he had been riding before meeting her family.

His touch was easily softer than Aegon's grip had been, and for this she was grateful. He had been the first man to lay a hand on her that had not been forceful. The brothers continued to bicker.

"She is not deaf, Aegon. She can hear you"

"Deaf or not, she is a simpleton. If you are to marry her, do yourself a favour and find comfort in others, as I do"

All the blood seemed to rush to your ears in embarrassment and you tore your wrist away from the prince, turning swiftly on your heel in the other direction, away from the harsh words you had unfortunately become accustomed to. Your steps were swift as you heard Aegon cackle with laughter, but you did not see Aemond's saddened stare bore into your back.

With a book clutched longingly to your chest and the echoes of your already drunken siblings echoing down the halls, you pushed a hand to the library door, finding comfort in the quiet of this room in the chaos that was the Red Keep.

It had of course, not been your first time here. You had accompanied your sister on her journey many moons ago, and even then you felt the stares of those at the court boring into you like a flame. The hushed whispers of those were not lost on you, perhaps they also thought you were deaf. But it didn’t matter. You heard the horrible things the ladies said about you and equally, the awful things the men said as well. Although some of those had been about other matters.

Contrary to popular belief, you were not entirely mute. A lot of it was purely by choice. And you had become accustomed to the silence, for simply trying to speak, becoming out of breath and tight about the chest, gave you more anxiety than simply saying nothing at all.

You sighed in relief, finding the library completely empty and almost just how you had left it all those months ago, when you had come here for relief after your sister had accustomed herself to the ladies.

The book, which you had been in the middle of reading last time you were here, was still perched on top of the fireplace in the heart of the room, with a piece of paper sticking out in the spot where you had been rudely torn away. Your hand grazed over the cover, feeling all the intricacies of the people who may have read it before you. The spine was slightly worn away, and the fabric that coated the front page was discoloured. But it was the book smell that enticed you so and you opened where you were to bring to the pages to your face.

It smelled like home. Like a solitary childhood.

It reminded you of who you were.

Someone so disenchanted with life that they would lose themselves in books, fiction or not.

You lifted your skirts, inhaling sharply as the corseted part of the gown dug into you for being too small. Your father refused the request for new dresses, so you had to make do. After all, it was your older sister who was supposed to be enamouring the Prince, not you. So what need was there for fine dresses.

The chair hugged you, its fabric arms tucking you in like a bed and you laid the book before you to pick up where you had left off, the only sound in the room being the flickering of some candles and the uncomfortable sound of your finger tracing the next page.

You had been so interested in your book, the large oak doors opened without a reaction from you.

"I know you are not deaf, my Lady"

The voice startled you, and your head popped round the back of the chair to see the Prince standing closely, smirking and arms tucked behind him. A surprised sound left you as you stood, the book that had been placed on your lap hurtling to the floor as well as a small notebook you had been clutching. Your cursed yourself for the clumsiness but offered him a curtsy all the same before bending to retrieve the books.

He seemed to move too quickly for his stature and had his hand flat on the book before you had even reached out. Turning it over he smiled, bringing the book with him stand,

"Ah, so it was you"

You grasped the small notebook in your hand and stood to meet his gaze, eyes slightly wide with fear. As if he had caught you in his grasp.

He let out a small laugh, which seemed uncharacteristic for him, "Do not worry. I merely found it"

He placed the book down on the table and looked back at her. Even though he had one eye, it seemed to rake over her for an eternity before returning to her face.

"Are you afraid, my Lady?" he asked, still smirking.

Realising that she had been gawking, gripping onto her notebook, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with the answer, only offering a 'Hm' in response as he began pacing the space around her.

"I may have limited vision, but I can see you are not afraid of me"

His back was facing you now, and with his eye not trained on you, you took the opportunity to study him and his form for a moment.

He was tall and his long silver hair trailed over his back, thick and straight. He certainly had that air of intimidation behind him and seemed to dress as such to scare people. In thick black leather with clasps, he almost looked imprisoned in his own clothes, straining against them. All this study of his form made you look down at yourself, wondering what he thought of you. The small woman without a voice, dressed in the clothes she was made several years ago.

"Your sister says I have a temper" he started, turning slowly to meet your gaze. He studied the way the candles flickered washes of amber and yellowish hues onto the side of your face, bringing the flush of your face out even more. How the flames bounced off the colour of your eyes. He wondered; how could someone be so expressive with simply their gaze.

He could not explain it, but you seemed content in the silence between you.

Slowly, as if movement would trigger the man, you opened the small notebook you carried with you, using the strip of charcoal to scribble something down. Aemond smirked seeing how concentrated you looked staring at the pages, how the line in between your eyebrows popped out slightly as you wrote.

You passed him the notebook, pointing at the page. He handled the book with such care that is astonished you, the way his fingers grasped it, there was a sensitivity to it. You swallowed your breath as his eye ran over the page all too slowly.

I do not know you well, but I have seen no temper.

Without moving an inch, his eye met you again and for a moment you worried you had said something wrong. But he softly handed the notebook back to you, watching your every move.

"Is this how you communicate?" he asked genuinely.

You nodded, as if embarrassed. Thinking of something to write down, you quickly flipped to a new page.

He accepted the notebook again once you had done, looking significantly more nervous this time, the charcoal rubbing black on your fingers.

I hope that the suggestion of our marriage does not embarrass you. If it is to be, I will be an amenable wife.

Aemond read the words on the page a few times, each time saddening him more so than the last. He saw how you fumbled with the charcoal, eyes averted, afraid of his reaction. He sighed so quietly that you did not hear it and only looked up once again when he handed the notebook back to you.

The words seemed to sincere, it bought a pain to his heart to see you think such things.

"Do not reduce yourself to such a thing" he said. But you did not look up.

There was a pregnant pause between you both as he regarded you.

"You are not entirely mute, are you"

You shook your head at his question, he winced at the painful look on your face. Immediately scribbling something down, faster this time.

It is sometimes better not to say anything at all.

Aemond nodded at this, "It is good advice, perhaps it can be bestowed on some within the court"

At this genuinely unexpected quip, you looked up at him letting a laugh escape you, hand immediately coming to your face to hide the smile that bubbled there.

It surprised you how quickly his eyes lit up upon hearing your voice. You could not help but look at him as he smiled before you, your cheeks firing up with embarrassment and you cleared your throat almost immediately, trying to dispel the air.

"You have a lovely voice" he said. It was here that you realised you were still smiling, eyes on his face, trying to find any signs of deception. For a second, you opened your mouth, tempted to say something. But the confidence quickly died as a block constricted your throat and the breath was expelled, but you nodded anyway, in thanks.

Do you read?

He nodded, gesturing to the book you had been reading, now reserved to the side table, all but forgotten.

"I do. I come here often" he said quietly, pacing about again.

You could no longer hide the way you looked at him. Your sister had said he was quick to rise and that she had been scared stiff at the interactions with him, that he had given her no notion of acceptance or equality. She spoke like he thought he was above everyone else.

But this was not the person you saw before you. Before you was some so soft spoken, you could barely hear him most of the time. Someone who enjoyed the serenity of a quiet library with the only sound being the flickering of the candles and the rain hitting the stone walls outside. You envisioned him being the only one to people-watch at parties, not amusing himself with the prospect of dancing. And perhaps not entertaining the thought of speaking to a woman directly.

"I come here when people like your sister remark on my tempestuous nature. Solitude is the only remedy for it" he paused looking over at you, "I imagine it is the same for you"

You scribbled something down, meeting his gaze when you handed it over.

Perhaps it is just that we are misunderstood. Solitude offers comfort.

A smile tugged at his lips once more and he thought that this is the most he had smiled in a long time.

"And books, it seems"

You nod genuinely, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Placing the notebook to one side, you rush past the Prince, giving him an opportune moment to feel the fabric of your skirts pass his thigh and the whips of your hair drag across the leather of his arm, releasing their scent. And with his eyes closed, he relished in these perfumes.

He allowed himself to think about what it would be like to live in that scent. To have it around him.

You placed a book in his hand, looking up at him excitedly. His long fingers grazed over the cover, admiring the gold leaf applied to it.

"Is this your favourite?" he asked, noting how close you remained after placing the book in his hand, though this you had not realised yet. You nodded, smiling as he opened the cover page to inspect the contents. A book he had not read.

He squinted at the pages, confused and looked back at you, barely needing to move his head since he was so tall.

"You can read this?" he asked. Ever humble, you shrugged your shoulders, "This is Valyrian" he sounded almost as if he did not believe you.

But you had read enough books for a lifetime already and you intended to prove to the Prince that what you were implying was truth.

Taking a deep breath, you lean forward and point to a word in Valyrian, inspecting the swirling text upside down. It had been a page right in the middle, telling the history of Aegon the Conqueror's mission to the Riverlands.

"…i-istan…hae…" you took another breath, not meeting the Prince's eye, nervous that if you did all confidence would surely die, "…darys…"

"…dārys" Aemond softly corrected. You could not help but look up at him now, the eye that had been filled with mischief and confidence, now had something else there. You licked your lips and motioned for him to repeat what he has said so you might copy, "dārys…"

"…dārys…h-he….he…" you struggled on the 'h' sounds of the next words, so paused to gather your breath and push past the newly developing blocks. But the Prince waited patiently, more enamoured at the fact that you were attempting to speak before him and that this was possibly the most you had said to anyone in months, perhaps years.

The mere sound of your own voice surprised you, but concentrated on finishing the sentence, you licked your lips once again in concentration. Aemond almost laughed as the line between your eyebrows returned, "…hen ry…vest, vesteros…o-o…" you sighed at yourself, frustrated. The words beginning with vowels were always the hardest.

"…ondoso…" you managed, pushing past the breath quickly and it was the loudest word you spoke in the whole sentence. It felt clumsy and wrong, but if you had looked ahead, you would have seen the hooded look of Aemond looking down at you, mouthing along with you in silent appreciation.

"…rhaenys…" you finished, looking up at the prince. He closed the book and repeated the word back at you but with the trilled 'r' that was difficult for many to pronounce. You smiled, fiddling with your hair, only now realising how close you were to him so you were able to read the book.

You stepped back, suddenly feeling embarrassed and hot. As if you'd been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

"Very good" he said. The smile on your face was difficult to keep at bay and he placed the book to one side, "It is not an easy language to learn. From books?" he asked, to which you nodded.

You were grateful he did not mention anything about your slowness, about the stumbling over the words. He simply complimented your ability to even read and speak any Valyrian and that was all you wanted from him.

You scribbled down.

Perhaps you could teach me how to pronounce it properly.

"I would enjoy that, my Lady" he stepped forward to give you the notebook back, only to keep a hold on it when you tried to take it. His other hand laid on top of hers and all of a sudden, it all felt so real.

You could feel his fingers rub over yours with a strangely soft touch and all the heat rose to your face again.

"It is a brave thing, to show yourself to someone" he said, looking down at you, "Someday, I hope to do the same for you" he said quietly.

You flicked from one of his eyes to his eyepatch, knowing that this was the source of his own pain. All the things the ladies and your sister had said about this man. Saying he was monstrous, tempestuous and someone to fear. It was clear that these people just did not know him.

"Being with you is like being alone" he said quietly, almost to say it to himself.

Your other hand came to his arm, hand smoothing over the soft leather, reaching out to touch him to see if he was real. Your smaller hands barely came around his arm but you squeezed it, offering whatever comfort you could.

At his words, you nodded in agreement, and he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Perhaps he merely wanted to be understood, like everyone would like, but something that people like yourselves was difficult to find.

Dropping the notebook, the charcoal fell to the ground and snapped in two and before Aemond could open his mouth to question, you laid your head against his chest, hearing and feeling his heartbeat through the thick leathers.

He stood stock still for a moment, hands suspended in the warm air around you until he carefully laid them on your shoulders, pulling the hair over your shoulder. And for a moment he could not tell if he was greatly confused, shocked, horrified or comforted by the feeling.

A shudder rattled down your back as you felt his chin rest on top of your head.

"Kirimvose" he whispered, making a burst of air leave you with a laugh. It sounded mildly forced, and it warmed your chest in a way that bloomed across your whole body, knowing now that despite his discomfort, he had said it.

Thank you.

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charliemwrites · 6 months

Text

Yes yes, I know. Part 9 for Charmed Slasher is coming out soon, I promise.

BUT! I had this Thought and just had to do it real quick!

(CW for violent imagery and actual violence)

Simon's been watching you for weeks.

You're such a sweet, quiet thing. Shy. Happy to let your coworkers lead conversations, chiming in only when directly addressed. You smile like sun peeking through clouds, slow and beaming, prying through darkness.

And they way you peer up through your eyelashes, the corners of your mouth tipping up. Oh, oh... he wants to ruin you.

Thinks of you while he strokes himself in bed, looking up at him through those thick lashes. Sticking together with unshed tears as you choke on his cock. That quietly pleased smile when he purrs that you're doing so well, almost halfway there...

It's becoming a distraction, this preoccupation with you. So many others just let their eyes slide over you, but not Simon. No, he sees you.

That you shred your bottom lip bloody when you're deep in thought. You wrinkle your nose and squeeze your eyes shut when you're trying not to sneeze. Always burn your mouth on your first sip of coffee.

He watches you in your home. The way you curl up with your favorite blanket, leaned up against the arm of the couch. A perfect open space for him to share with you. He memorizes your routines and imagines slotting himself into your life.

He shouldn't. That's not going to stop him.

Price has been staring at him hard when he thinks Simon won't notice. Gaz has been jumpier; the recruits whispering more fervently. They can sense him slipping; too many missions. Too much bloodshed. It's soaked past clothes and skin, muscle and marrow. His soul, if he has one, must be drenched crimson.

He needs an anchor to keep him from floating adrift in this sea of blood.

He's found you. So precious. So delicate. He couldn't let himself be too rough with you; you'd break so easily. Oh, his hands itch to break you down piece by piece like his favorite gun. Gut you and clean you out, only to put you back together again with his own hands, his initials stamped into you.

There's no salvation for someone like him, but you're all the Paradise he needs.

And then you go and do such a stupid, silly thing.

You go on a date. Look like something he wants to stain in your clingy jeans and low-cut top. Hair done just so. He wants to see it sweaty and tangled after burying his fingers in it; his vision goes red at the thought of anyone else getting that honor.

But no... no. It's not your fault, really. You don't know any better. But you will. You will very, very soon.

Simon watches your date greet you outside, slip an arm around your waist like it belongs there. Like you belong to anyone but Simon. The only things that saves the man from a bloody end right there is that you gently extricate yourself to go inside.

He seethes on the sidewalk across the street, fingers twitching for his Ka-Bar. The images of his initials on your perfect skin is burned behind his eyelids, and afterimage superimposing itself over his vision.

It's time you knew who you belong to.

Your father always said you have a temper like the Devil. Didn’t understand what he meant as a sunshine six-year-old, giggling after butterflies and munching on cheese sticks. Your parents’ pride and joy, their first and only babygirl.

You understood later, though, standing at the broken window and watching a pool of blood spread and spread and spread….. like leaving a marker tip on the page too long.

You’re Old Testament wrathful, fire and brimstone, churning beneath a lake of oil and ink. Pitch black, iridescent rainbow on the surface, too thick to realize what roils beneath until one misstep breaks that molecular tension—

Rage will boil up in your stomach, scorch your chest. Burns acidic in your throat and stains your teeth on venom. You don’t drown in anger, you wade into it until you float.

Not to say that you’re an angry person. You’re not. Not much to bother being angry about, by your estimate. Disappointed, resigned, annoyed, exasperated - sure. But the raw fury that sharpens your teeth and claws? It’s an energy expenditure your mind hardly ever feels the need to spark.

But there are some things…

“C’mon don’t be a fucking prude.” He’s drunk. He’s drunk and pushy and you feel your ribs expand, expand, expand…

“You fuckin’ owe me something.”

You show a little too much canine as you reply. “Because you bought me a couple drinks I didn’t ask for?”

“Fuckin’ spoiled bitch. Wha’ else d’you want, huh? Fuckin’ money?”

He pushes you. Your shoulders bump the alley wall behind you. The sky is so so dark above, no clouds, no moon. Even next to trash, the stink of that awful whiskey burns your nose.

You think of broken windows and blooms of blood.

“Just fuckin’ get on your knees.”

“No.”

“The fuck do you jus’ - it wasn’t a fuckin’—”

“No.”

His face twists, ugly and red (not the right shade of red) puffing up like a particularly loud bird.

“C’mere, you little—“

It’s nothing, nothing at all. A sidestep and a full-body shove. Your timing is perfect. You didn’t touch your second drink when your nail polish turned black.

Your “date” however, is wobbly and uncoordinated, you lean forwards on the balls of your feet in anticipation. Watch him bounce off the brick, stumble over a couple overfilled bags, and crack his temple on the metal corner of the dumpster.

You tilt your head as he collapses in a pathetic heap, barely conscious. Make a point to roll him over onto his back. The last sky he’ll ever see with any luck. You lean your foot into his stomach, watch him turn pale and then green. He’s not going to be able to roll over before all that drink comes up.

Satisfied, you step back as you brush brick dust and dirt from your pants and sleeves. Movement at the head of the alley catches your attention, but by the time you look, the disturbance is gone. Likely someone just passing by. You don’t care if you're wrong.

Below you, the man - you never bothered to actually remember his name - gurgles and starts to rasp wetly. The fury ebbs, a tide dragging out with bloody foam at the edge. You let out a slow, satisfied sigh and navigate to the alley's entrance.

You've barely stepped from the shadows of the buildings when there's a sharp pinch in your neck. The world goes black in seconds.

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #kidnapper ghost

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frankenkyle19 · 4 months

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Necklaces and Potato Chips

Coriolanus Snow x Female reader (smut)

warnings/description: smut; oral (m and f receiving), kissing, Virgin!Coryo. Reader and Coryo are both 18 in this. Mentions of Coriolanus’ poverty, etc.

Word count: 3.4k

Coriolanus Snow was never much of a gentle man. He was poised and perfect. There was never any room to make mistakes around him, because even if he didn��t specifically point it out, he somehow always knew. And would relentlessly tease you for it.

You saw right through him though. His carefully crafted exterior, hiding underneath it a fragile ego that was nearly a decade in mending. After the war and the death of his father, the Snow family had nearly no money to their name. They lived up in their penthouse, worn and falling apart from the war.

Not even a pot to piss in.

You’d never told anyone that you’d overheard Dean Casca Highbottom speaking to Coriolanus in such a way, and seeing the fear in Coriolanus’ eyes. It clicked. It was all true. He wasn’t eating steak for breakfast. He didn’t have maids waiting on his hand and foot. Hell, you’d seen the way his outfit frayed at the edges from countless washings. He couldn’t afford a new one.

At first the revelation rocked you to the core. He’d kept up appearances so well… but for what? For high social standing? To avoid the gossip? Yes.

Your own family wasn’t filthy rich. Nothing like the Plinth family, who it seemed everyone but you despised. But your family was living comfortably in the Capitol, in a modest but neatly decorated apartment that made you feel secure.

You didn’t show you knew. You didn’t look at Coriolanus like he was anything less than. Why would you? You’d never understood the needless drama and gossip that surrounded the kids at the academy. It was unbearable at times. You had to be perfect 24/7 so your name was kept out of people’s mouths, and even then that wasn’t guaranteed to work. Sejanus Plinth was a great example. His family, originally from District 2, came over during the war when his father had sided with the Capitol and helped them subdue the other Districts. Traitor much? At least that’s what Sejanus had called him the few times you’d spoken with him. Been the only one to give the poor boy any attention. Coriolanus had as well, but you could tell from the look in his eyes he was less than happy about it.

Coriolanus had always been around. He was at nearly all your birthday parties throughout your childhood, until about when you turned thirteen. Then he just… stopped going. Maybe because he didn’t have a gift to bring. Not that you cared, but because apparently everyone else did even though it was none of their business.

You just let it go, glancing his way in the hall every now and then. Only sometimes he would look back.

Until your sixteenth birthday party. Suddenly he just… appeared. You were having it in the mess hall at the academy on a Saturday afternoon. You weren’t even sure how your mother and father had booked it, but you didn’t ask. You’d learned by now not to ask lots of questions.

But when you saw that blond head of curls bobbing through the crowd, you had several dozen questions that you needed answered lest you go insane. Why? Why after three years had he suddenly decided to show up?

You hoped that he’d at least be able to enjoy the food, maybe even sneak some home to his family. Maybe that could be arranged. You felt bad for them, but not in a babying way. Just a genuine person who felt bad for another’s misfortune that was no fault of their own.

You don’t pursue him. Didn’t make your way over to him. You didn’t want to scare him off. He’d come to you if and when he was ready.

And he had. He’d come up and given you a shy greeting, wishing you a happy birthday in a voice much too meek for the Coriolanus Snow.

He’d also left you with a little wrapped gift and the second he gave it to you, he practically bolted. Left the party and you didn’t seem him till the next Monday in clases.

You’d waited till you’d gotten home to open the gift, and inside of the carefully wrapped paper was a necklace. A beautiful sparkling necklace. You had no idea where he’d gotten it from, but it looked almost antique, a red shining…. No it couldn’t be. A red ruby? But you knew there was no way they could afford that. So you’d come to the conclusion that either he’d stolen it, or he’d gotten it from his grandmother, or kept it after his mother passed away. It made your heart clench.

You wore it every day since and everyone ooo’d and ahh’d over it, asking where you’d gotten it, but you never told. You weren’t sure if he’d wanted everyone to know. With the way he quickly scurried away after giving it to you, your guess was no, he didn’t.

He was at your seventeenth birthday party as well, though he hadn’t brought a gift that time and he only wished you a quick happy birthday before disappearing into the crowd of people. Weird. He was so weird.

The two of you spoke here and there until your eighteenth birthday. He’d turned eighteen just a few weeks to a month before you, and just like the last two years, he came to your party. It was a smaller party this time around. Your father and mother had insisted on going all out. You only turn eighteen once, but you’d refused. You didn’t want a bunch of people. Didn’t want to have to worry so hard about keeping up an appearance.

Coriolanus, once again kept his distance from you, even with the smaller group of people, but he stayed for the whole party. You’d always made it a point to let him come to you, when he was comfortable. Like trying to gain a feral animal's trust.

As the party began to subside and everyone began to leave, you tried to make your way over to the blue eyed boy. You’d just reached him when he was at the food table set up before he turned and walked away.

This time around the party had been at your family’s apartment, reason for the much smaller group of people. You furrowed your brows as you followed him down the dimly lit hallway. He paused outside of your bedroom door before walking in. What the fuck?

You followed him, listening outside the door after he’d closed it, ear pressed against the wood. Really you should have burst in there. Should have yelled at him and asked him just what the hell he was doing in your bedroom.

Until you heard a little sigh, a release of breath before the crunch of a chip, and then another. He must have stuffed some of the the refreshments into his pockets before scurrying off somewhere to eat them in peace. Your heart broke for him. Broke for the young boy you used to see sitting alone at lunch at the academy. Who only had superficial friends. Never anyone who truly liked him for who he was.

You stayed with your ear pressed against the door for a while, debating on what to do when you saw someone making their way down the dark hall. You couldn’t make it out but it looked like your father. Shit. If he saw Coriolanus in your room he’d flip out, totally get the wrong idea.

So, without much thought at all, you reached for the doorknob and shoved your way quickly into your room before closing the door behind you. You heaved a breath out, facing the door before you whipped around and faced the man that was, for some reason, in your room.

His blue eyes were wide, chip crumbs on his lips, a chip in his hand as he looked at you with the saddest eyes ever. Fuck, he’d been caught.

His mind began to reel. God, he could only imagine the gossip that would start from this. It would be all over for him. He’d die of embarrassment he was sure of it.

But you didn’t instantly run out to tell everyone how you’d found him. You stayed planted in front of him, looking him over. He wore an off white dress shirt and a little black vest that fit his chest snug. Had he always been this pretty? Had his eyes always been so blue?

He cleared his throat, stuffing the chip back into his pocket as he reached for the doorknob over your shoulder. He was trying to run. Just like he always did.

You grabbed his arm before he could reach the knob and you held his bicep with your hand, squeezing just tight enough so he knew you weren’t letting him leave. Not like that.

“I-“ He started, looking at you with a panicked expression. A dear in headlights if you will. It was, again, sad to see. He was always so put together and seeing him with the beginnings of tears in his ocean blue eyes made your expression soften.

Your free hand reached up to wipe the chip crumbs from the corners of his mouth but Coriolanus must have thought that you were going to slap him or something with the way he flinched. This poor boy…

“Coriolanus…” you said gently, cupping his cheek with your hand and leaving it there. He seemed to lean into your touch the slightest bit, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky sigh.

“Yeah?” He responded, blue eyes peering down at you. He was waiting for the ball to drop. For you to yell at him. To hit him and kick him.

“Why are you in my room?”

“I didn’t know it was your room- I’m sorry- I just… I wanted a few more chips before I left but I’d already eaten enough to almost be suspicious and I didn’t want anyone to see. I’m really sorry-'' hearing an apology from Coriolanus Snow’s mouth was a weird thing. It didn’t seem to belong there. He seemed so unapologetic.

“Coriolanus-“ you sighed, giving him a sympathetic look that had him shaking his head and pulling away from your touch, standing up to his full height.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He started, embarrassment covering his features as he turned away from you.

You followed him. He wasn’t getting out of this that easily. Hell no. Not after all the years of confusion he’d given you.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and he tensed once more, but for this time it seemed to be a different reason. The air around the two of you changed. Electrified. Currents of energy spun around you, danced in circles, growing stronger by the second. All this time. All these years. Had it all led up to this?

Coriolanus turned around, most likely to apologize again but you caught him by surprise, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It was just like you’d imagined it. Warm, soft, electric. He was stunned into shock for several seconds before he melted into it, closing his eyes and kissing back. There was a hunger behind his kisses, one that showed desperation. A need for this. He’d wanted this just as long as you’d have, if not longer. More pieces of the puzzle fit together at that moment. All those years.. All those parties. He was trying to get your attention but he didn’t know how. He was trying…

Your hands rested on his shoulders as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him, your lips molding together. A need overtook you in that moment and as the kiss got more heated, your hands found their way to his belt that held his black slacks up, and you brushed your fingers against his bulge.

He pulled back with a shocked noise in the back of his throat, chest rising and falling heavily as he looked down at you.

“I’ve never-“ he started breathlessly as he watched you, almost warily.

Oh. He was a virgin… You weren’t. You’d lost your virginity to Festus Creed some time last year. It was very uneventful but you still had more experience than Coriolanus. Something about that made you clench your thighs together. You wanted to ruin him.

“Coriolanus…” you cooed, your hands coming to rest on the loops of his belt, but slowly, giving him time to pull away if he really did decide he didn’t want this.

“Let me? I can make you feel so good…” Your tone had dropped, and Coriolanus swore your eyes darkened as you stared at him.

He thought about it for several moments before he gave a sheepish nod. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself, but he had been fantasizing about you for so long now…

“Yes…” He breathed. “Yes I want that..”

A few more seconds of silence before you two fell into even more bruising kisses. Despite how much taller he was compared to you, you were able to lead him to your bed very easily, pushing him back onto it before crawling over him.

Your hands were everywhere and Coriolanus was overwhelmed as he tossed his head back into the pillows. The pillows that smelled like you.

“I don’t want to go all the way…” he blurted out, cheeks flushed.

You looked up at him, giving him a gentle smile. “Of course. You let me know if I’m doing too much and we stop.” You said firmly so he understood.

Your hands came to his belt and slowly began to undo it before sliding it from the loops on his dress pants.

He sat up and helped you kick off his too tight, too small pants with a huff before he laid back, now only in his black boxers. He strained against them and your mouth watered a bit, not even having seen his cock yet.

“Going to use my mouth on you, pretty boy. Going to make this the best night of your life,” Your finger slid under his waistband and before he even knew it, you were pulling his underwear down his legs and his cock sprang free, slapping against his lower stomach.

For how frail he looked, he was packing. He was longer than he was thick, and the idea of him inside you made you a bit dizzy. But not tonight. He’d said he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

Carefully, you wrapped your hand around him, causing his eyes to go wide and his hips to buck up into the touch. He was nearly searing in your hand, drops of pre-cum leaking steadily from the tip.

He was in heaven, eyes closed, head tossed back, and when he felt you press a kiss to his tip, a tiny little whine left his parted lips.

“Shh my sweet thing, it’s okay, giving you all the love you need. You’ve got such a pretty cock,” you accentuated your words with a few more kisses to the tip, his pre-cum coating your lips before you licked it off.

Coriolanus moaned softly, eyes open as he looked down at you. He twitched in your hand, legs trembling beneath you as he waited for your next move.

Your lips wrapped around him and he waited for you to take him deeper in your mouth, but you stayed just at the tip, suckling gently on him. He was so fucking sensitive that it almost hurt from how good it felt.

“Fuck,” He cursed, and that’s how you knew he was loving this. In all your years, you’d never heard him curse.

You made sure to keep eye contact with him, letting your tongue roll over the tip, collecting the beads of liquid that fell.

Finally, after you really got him whining, you took him further into your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose and hollowing your cheeks as he arched his back up off the bed.

Your throat seized around him and you nearly gagged, having to pull back just a bit. Your throat was already scratchy from it and you could only imagine just how sore it would be tomorrow after deep-throating him. But that’s all it was. Imagining. Because without any warning he came down your throat with a choked groan, tummy tensing.

You swallowed his release with a slight grimace, easing him through his release before pulling off of him.

He had a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleepy for several moments before he finally managed to peel his eyes open and look down at you with a fucked out expression, a lazy smile on his lips.

“Jesus…” he murmured, sitting up on his elbows to look at you. He looked you over, still completely clothed and an idea came to his mind.

“Can I do that to you too?” You wanted to tease him a bit. Suck your dick? No Coriolanus couldn’t do that because you didn’t have one. Silly. But you didn’t say that, you just nodded your head as you looked at him.

“If you want to, yeah. Of course sweetheart. Anything you want.”

Anything.

What a dangerous word.

In an instant he had you flipped and was pulling your little skirt down your legs right along with your panties. You crossed your legs shyly but Coriolanus wasn’t having that as he used his hands to part them, sliding in between them and getting comfortable.

“How do I…?” He asked, looking between your eyes and your dripping cunt.

You too one of his hands and brought it to your core. He gasped at the warmth and the wetness of it. You helped him run his fingers across your folds, dipping into you just a bit before pulling back.

Soon though he grew bored of that and dipped his head down, inches away from your core. He really was going to eat you out… you were surprised.

He surged forward that last little bit, his mouth connecting with your clit, sending a shockwave up you.

He closed his eyes, well, more like they rolled into the back of his head once he properly tasted you. And then he was off, lapping at your folds, getting really messy with it. He needed almost no guidance. It was like he was born to eat pussy.

“Fuck, Coriolanus- Coryo-“ He really seemed to like that with the way he moaned against your core, beginning to fuck you with his pretty pink tongue.

You already felt extremely close and you weren’t sure if it was because he was good at what he was doing, or if you’d just been needing this for so long that anything felt good.

“Oh fuck Coryo, I’m going to come if you keep that up- good boy, that’s it-“ You hissed out in pleasure, head thrown back. Your fingers carded into his hair and he let out a little whine as you tugged on his blond curls.

He felt the way your body tensed and he knew you were close. That did wonders to boost his ego, and he really doubled down on eating you out, tongue fucking you hard now, his nose brushing your clit.

You came hard on his tongue, practically grinding up against his face, and he let you, too pussy drunk to complain. Not that he ever would. He never realized how much he enjoyed this.

He kept at it until you were whining and pushing him away. He himself let out a little disgruntled whine, obviously upset that he had to stop, before you pulled him up to cuddle next to you.

The two of you were still half dressed, shaking and recovering from your releases.

Coryo watched you with a smile on his lips that were still coated in your slick.

“Jesus, coryo. Clean yourself off.” You shook your head with a laugh before you gasped when he surged toward and kissed you once more. You cupped his cheek and kissed back after a moment, grinning against him.

He pulled back for a moment and reached for your neck. You gave him a confused look before you saw him take your necklace chain in his hand, looking it over. The necklace. You’d almost forgotten. You’d worn it every single day since he’d gifted it to you.

“Stay here tonight?” You asked with a soft smile. You didn’t care what your parents said. You were an adult now, and hell, they didn’t even need to know that Coriolanus was here.

He gave a quizzical look before he seemed to realize you were being serious and then he nodded.

“I’d like that. A lot.”

And that was how you ended up on Coriolanus Snow’s arm. The only person who he truly trusted outside of his family.

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosbas #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo smut #the hunger games

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joelscruff · 1 year

Text

wait (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

first and foremost! this is part of my boyfriend's dad!joel series and takes place after "words". this won't really make sense if you haven't read that one! it's so crazy to me how this started out as a silly little smutty drabble and somehow became this. this one's kind of heavy (read the warnings!!) but i promise that things won't stay this angsty forever. at its root this story is supposed to be smutty and fun and i promise there will be more of that in the future. i hope you enjoy it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: it's been a month since your boyfriend discovered your relationship with his father and a month since you've seen joel. it's starting to take its toll. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: daddy kink, unprotected p in v sex, sexting, comeplay, angst, allusions to past trauma, shitty family dynamics (addiction & verbal abuse), panic attacks word count: 3.2k

i miss you

it's the only thing you've thought about texting him for about a month, a text you always type out and then erase a few moments later. it's something you swore to yourself that you wouldn't do no matter how lonely you got. he'd said he needed time, and you want to give it to him. and yet here you are, leaning against the window of your bus home from community college with tears in your eyes, phone in hand, wanting nothing more than to see him. selfish.

it's been one of the loneliest periods of your life. you've known loneliness, felt it throughout most of your childhood, through your adolescence, it's nothing new. but with joel you'd finally begun to feel whole again, like you actually mattered to someone. he looked forward to seeing you, to holding you, being with you. you'd never felt so desired and loved and protected in your whole life.

now you're back to having nothing, no one. it's a harsh reality you're forcing yourself to accept. you still haven't heard anything from your boyfriend - now ex, of course, though there was never any official breakup - and even that's a punch to the gut, an added depth to a loss that you caused.

he's hurting, i hurt him, joel's words repeat in your head. it breaks your heart that he's feeling so guilty, that he feels that he caused this entire thing when it's really your fault. if you weren't such a mess of a person, such a broken human being, the whole thing wouldn't have even happened to begin with. what kind of person sleeps with their boyfriend's father? starts a relationship with him? calls him daddy?

you know you caused this and yet you can't help but miss him so much. it's like he's ingrained himself into your bones somehow, his touch tattooed into your skin. he's all you think about, dream about. you miss being in his embrace, being held by him, whispering daddy in his ear and feeling understood, not judged. you miss his gentle kisses to your nose, the safety of his lap, his arms around your trembling form while he fucked you, took you, made you his.

you stare at the unsent text message and inevitably find yourself scrolling back up to a previous conversation from a few months back, short and simple. texting was never a frequent medium for the two of you, more-so used for you to send him dirty pictures every so often to tease him a bit. you briefly look at the picture, a close-up shot of your bare pussy with some of his come leaking out; absolutely filthy.

still have u inside me daddy

oh baby, so messy. what am I gonna do with you?

you smile at the silliness of it all, the filthiness, but it quickly fades when you remember the reality of the situation again, the fact that your boyfriend had read joel's messages, had definitely seen these texts in particular. he'd called joel a sick man. you don't agree, but you can understand why; if you'd seen a text interaction like this between your own father and a girl half his age... you'd probably have a similar reaction - though the concept of your father showing a woman any affection in the first place is alien in itself.

your bus pulls up to the stop near your house and you get off, slipping your phone back into your pocket and hiking your backpack over your shoulder as you go. it's only a short walk to your house, no more than three minutes, though you usually try to make it a bit longer to delay the inevitable disaster of your home life.

you take it one step at a time, slowly walking down the darkening street with fresh tears in your eyes. god, you're so lonely. you don't want to go home, don't want to be accosted by your alcoholic father and avoidant mother, your asshole brother who never gives you a break. it's so damn depressing in that house; when you'd first gotten together with your boyfriend you'd been so relieved to finally have somewhere else to go that wasn't school or home, another reason you'd stayed with him for so long despite the relationship being doomed. you should have known it couldn't last.

you'd told joel everything. it's hard to believe sometimes that the connection you shared was strong enough for you to trust him with some of your darkest secrets, the worst things from your past. he knows all about your family, all about what you've been through, had listened to you quietly and earnestly as you cried into his shoulder about the hand life had dealt you. he'd rubbed your back, kissed your forehead, whispered it's okay, and i'm here now, and i'm gonna take care of you, sweetheart. and he did. he did take care of you. he'd done everything right and somehow you still managed to fuck it up.

the lights are on in the house when you arrive at the front gate, though the car is missing from the driveway; this only means that your mother is out late tonight, probably staying with a friend or a lover or whoever she turns to when shit gets bad. you can't blame her - you'd done the exact same thing when you'd actually had somewhere to go - but part of you still aches for that little girl inside you that needs her, wishes she was inside waiting for you, though it's not like she'd do much to help.

your father is definitely home, probably your brother as well. you stand at the gate, gripping the strap of your backpack and deliberating even bothering to go inside. you know you'll be accosted at the front door by either a drunken tirade or bitter argument. it's a no-win situation no matter how you look at it. your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, grateful for one last brief distraction.

i miss you too, angel. so much.

your eyes go wide, heart stuttering in your chest as you stare at the words.

"fuck," you breathe, "fuck, fuck fuck," you quickly scroll up to confirm your fears - the i miss you text, the one you always erase, the one you make sure to never send - you'd somehow sent it this time, entirely by mistake.

tears are stinging your eyes as you turn on the spot and start walking back and forth in front of your house, running your hand through your hair in disbelief while you stare at joel's text. you fucking idiot. what the fuck have you done? what happened to giving him space? you stupid fucking bitch. you absolute loser. you're suddenly berating yourself the exact same way you know your father and brother will berate you if you go in the house now. you can already picture it - them seeing your tear stained cheeks, the puffiness of your eyes, the words they'll throw at you to hurt you even more, make you feel small.

fucking bitch. fucking loser. fucking idiot.

your breathing is becoming more and more erratic the longer you pace. you can't go in now, not after this, not after seeing that he misses you too and being so fucking close yet so far away. all you can suddenly think about is all those wasted moments at his house, spending so much time with your asshole boyfriend when you could have been with joel, been loved instead of tossed aside like garbage.

god, if you could only hear his voice. if you could just talk to him for one minute before you have to go into this godforsaken hellhole.

before you even fully understand what you're doing, you're hitting the call button and bringing the phone up to your ear.

he answers on the first ring.

"h-"

"i can't do this anymore," you gasp out through a sob, not even bothering to let him say anything, "joel, i can't do it, i miss you so fucking much it hurts."

"babygirl," he breathes, voice rough and deep and gorgeous and familiar, sweet like honey in your ear, "where are you? are you okay?"

and that's enough to break you.

you feel the tears begin to stream down your face, hot and unrelenting. you shake your head even though he can't see you, throat bobbing through repetitive gasps, "no, i'm not okay," you blubber, "da- fuck, joel, i- i can't do this, i can't be by myself anymore. i'm - " you don't even know where this is coming from, voice muddled, "i'm so lonely. i can't do it anymore, i can't. please, i can't."

he makes a devastating sound at your words, something between a sob and a gasp, "where are you?" he repeats, voice full of concern, "where are you, baby? i'm gonna come get you."

"the bus stop by my house," you manage to tell him through your tears, reaching the little bench and situating yourself on it without an ounce of hesitation, "i was- i was gonna go home but," another sob rips through your throat, "but they're home and i- i can't- i can't take it anymore, joel. i don't wanna be there anymore, i can't be there."

"you stay where you are, you hear me?" you can hear movement on the other line, the rattle of keys, footsteps, "don't go home, babygirl, i'm comin'. i'll be there in ten minutes."

"okay," you whisper, trying to catch your breath, "okay."

"deep breaths, baby, remember?" and you do remember; he'd taught you some exercises to help in situations like this, when you feel like the world is falling apart around you and you're just getting smaller and smaller, disappearing into nothingness. he'd held your hands while you'd sat in his lap, eyes closed as you both matched each other's breathing, melted into one another. "in and out, babygirl, that's it. real slow, count for me."

"i r-remember," you manage to hiccup, squeezing your chest with your other hand and trying to ground yourself.

the wait is excruciating, no matter how short, and no matter the fact that joel is on the other end trying to calm you. you sit on the bench with a hand on your heart and the other on your stomach, listening to joel count to five over and over, phone upturned on your thigh.

"big breath in. one...two...three...four...five," he says through the muffled sounds of traffic and wind, "big breath out. one...two...three...four...five." over and over and over again, "i'm turnin' the corner, baby, i'm almost there," he says after about ten minutes of this, "you see me, honey?"

you look up to find his headlights, getting brighter and brighter as they approach. you shakily sit up from the bench, breath coming out much less erratic now, "y-yes," you whisper.

seconds later the car is pulling up in front of you and he's jumping out, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he dashes around it. it's been so long since you've seen him that it's jarring to suddenly have him in front of you, sprinting toward your small and shaking form with his jacket undone, shoes mismatched, glasses askew. you catch a glimpse of his expression, concerned and upset - are those tears? - before he scoops you up into his arms and pulls you in close to him.

"i'm here," he tells you, voice rumbling through his chest against your cheek, solid and warm, "i'm here now, babygirl, you're okay. you're okay."

and somehow you are.

"i'm sorry," is all you can say to him as he drives you to his house, hand holding yours tightly the whole way, "i'm such an idiot, i'm so sorry."

"stop saying that," he repeats for maybe the fourth time, shaking his head and squeezing your hand even more firmly, "you're not an idiot and you have nothing to be sorry about."

you really are okay now, breaths calm and tears not even flowing anymore. instead the guilt and shame and humiliation have taken over, sinking into your skin as you lean back in the passenger seat with your hood pulled up, hiding your face from him.

"i was giving you space," you mutter, "i didn't even mean to text you, it was an accident. i was being stupid, as usual."

"stop it," he says again, "stop being mean to yourself."

you close your eyes and face away from him, "easier said than done."

the two of you drive in silence for a few moments, that is until he asks, "have you eaten?" and you say, "no."

he buys you mcdonalds and doesn't let go of your hand.

the house hasn't changed. you hadn't really expected it to; it's not like it's been that long since you were last here. you don't bother even sneaking a peek at your ex boyfriend's bedroom as joel leads you upstairs, curiosity nonexistent.

you're not sure why you expect him to take you into his office, maybe sit on the couch with you and talk. to your surprise he leads you straight past the door, down the hallway to what you can only assume is his bedroom - a place you've never been in all your months of being with him.

"sit down," he tells you softly as he opens the door, pulling you slowly inside and nodding toward the queen sized bed, "i'll get you something to wear."

"okay," you breathe, barely looking at him as you examine the room in front of you, large but cozy, cool colors but a warm atmosphere, framed music posters and blueprints covering the walls - exactly what you'd expect from someone like joel. you shuffle forward and drop your bag at the end of his bed, sitting on the edge of it while he goes to his dresser.

you end up in one of his sleep shirts and a pair of his underwear, loving the feeling of being his again, even if neither of you have actually talked about what exactly this means for your relationship. he helps you change, tugging off your worn-out jeans and the same shirt you've worn for three days in a row, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls off your panties and replaces them with his boxers. it's not sexual, but part of you still longs to pull him on top of you, just feel his weight, smell his cologne.

he pulls back the duvet and helps you climb inside onto your stomach, rubbing your arms and shoulders and releasing some of the tension you've been feeling for the past month. you feel him press another kiss to the back of your neck, pushing your hair out of the way and stroking it gently, giving you all the care and attention you've been aching for. his hands are so big, so comforting and safe, touching you everywhere without any expectations or underlying motive.

"i missed you, daddy," you whisper against his pillow, not sure if he can even hear you, even more unsure whether it's okay to use that word anymore.

he doesn't reply right away, still kneading his thumbs into the base of your back and massaging you gently. you hear him inhale and exhale deeply a few times, like he's biding time while he figures out what to say.

"sorry," you wince, "joel."

he releases you then, helps you turn over so you're on your back and peering up at him with uncertainty. he sits on the edge of the bed and reaches down to thumb your cheek, eyes sad and tired.

"i wanna be that for you, sweetheart," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "i do. i want it more than you even realize," he takes a breath, biting down on his lip briefly, "i just... i need you to tell me somethin'. be honest with me now."

your heart skips a beat, "what?"

"when you said you loved me..." his voice breaks a bit and you ache to reach for him, cup his cheek and hold him close, "was it because of what we've been doin'?" he seems to reassess his words, shaking his head slightly, "i mean, did it...did you actually mean it? or was it... was it just part of the game?"

you stare at him for a few seconds, lips parting and eyes going slightly wide. without a second thought you do exactly what you'd just been thinking about, reaching up to place your hand against his face, feeling his scruff beneath your palm. he leans in and takes a breath, peering into your eyes with a yearning you can't describe, can only feel.

you shake your head slowly, "joel," you whisper, "it's never been a game."

his eyes close, stuttering out another breath when your thumb strokes his cheek soothingly. unable to hold back anymore, you lean up to capture his mouth in a soft kiss, sweet and tender and familiar. his hand finds the back of your head, pulls you closer, claims you again.

he fucks you slow.

it's never been like this, never has he fucked you the way he fucks you now. you barely speak, just moan and whimper and sigh and melt into each other the way you've never truly been able to, not without prying ears and a time limit hanging over your heads. your hands tangle in his hair while he hits that deep spot inside you, holds you close, buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, pounds into you relentlessly like you'll both come apart at the seams if he lets go.

you're biting it back, trying not to say it as much as you desperately want to, still unsure if this is really want he wants. just tell me what to do and i'll do it. i don't care, i'm yours. he looks into your eyes and you can't help but start crying again, overwhelmed by the warmth of him, the safety. he thumbs your tears and kisses them away.

"say it," he murmurs to you as you both near your inevitable release, the tension building and building as he grabs your face with both hands and fucks you with purpose, with passion, "say it, babygirl, tell me."

you shake your head, suddenly self conscious, suddenly afraid. the feelings from earlier tonight rise back in your chest, making a home in the back of your throat as a sob threatens to rip through it.

"it's okay," he whispers, voice trembling with the speed of his thrusts, "it's okay, honey, i wanna hear you say it," he furrows his brow and releases a groan, so close to the edge, "please, baby, say it. need you to say it."

you pull him close, grip his back, press your lips to his ear, "daddy."

he groans, dark and rough, "that's it," he murmurs, "that's it baby, i'm your daddy. that's right." he pulls back to look at you, eyes meeting yours in a passionate gaze that lasts forever, "say it again."

"daddy," you whine, unable to unlock your eyes from his, lip trembling as you submit entirely to him, "feels so good, daddy."

there's something in his expression you can't place, something in his words that reverberates in your brain like a pinball. say it again... you realize it means more than you'd initially thought. he's not just asking you to say one word - he's asking for three.

"i love you," you cry out just as he presses his thumb to your clit, pushes you over the edge, "i love you."

he comes just as you do, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as your fingers scramble for purchase at his back, holding him impossibly close to the point where his entire body weight is on top of you, but you don't care. all you can feel is the way his heart beats against your chest, the way his gasps match yours, finding the same rhythm.

you lay there still for what feels like eternity, joel laying on top of you with his cock still deep inside and his forehead pressed against your shoulder. your tears have stopped but you feel the dampness of his own on your skin, hear the gasp he lets out as he sets his emotions free.

"i love you too," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and quick, voice wrecked, "god, i love you so much."

for the first time, you stay the night.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*#fic: bd!joel

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salliesimpkins · 3 months

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“I like you a lot”

Isaac lahey x fem!Reader

TW: Smut, oral (fem receiving), use of pet names, claws, nipple play

+16 read at your own risk. I’m not your mommy A/N: first smut to write + english isn’t my first lang word count: 2.5K

You were at school, leaning against your locker. smiling at and laughing with Stiles, until you caught Isaac glaring at you across the hall, visibly upset.

"alright Stiles I've got to go now, I'll see ya" you walked away after Stiles nodded and walked to Scott, and you made your way to Isaac.

"hey" you flashed him a smile and he blushed. How could he not? he thought you were the most beautiful thing ever.

The beta glanced over Stiles before turning back to you. "hey.." he spoke softly.

"Just tired... I uhh, I’ve got a lot on my mind lately" he said slowly and softly, not wanting to ruin this moment between you two.

You nodded slowly, feeling bad for him. "well you know, you can always talk to me" you said softly, reassuring him that he's got someone by his side.

You watched him closely as he looked at you quietly, and you didn't want to rush him to speak, you knew how sensitive Isaac is. It made him feel pathetic when he opened up to anyone or asked for help, that's what his dad has taught him. That a man is a man, boys don't cry, but Isaac knew you, he loved you, trusted you, and he knew your listen and get him anytime.

"I've just been going back.. thinking about my family" He looked down as his expression softened.

"oh" you whispered softly and placed your hand on the boy's back, rubbing it gently. "I know you've suffered from your dad your whole life, but his death Isn’t your fault".

Isaac flinched, but he didn't move away from you. Even though your gesture was tiny, it felt huge to him, It made him on top of the world. He let out a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "I know... I just-" he paused, unsure if he can keep going or not, but he really counted on you, so he kept going. "I didn't even cry at the funeral and everyone thinks I don't care, that I was wishing the whole time i'd get rid of him, and the problem is.. it's true. I was relieved that he's dead"

"Honey listen to me" you took a step closer, placing both your hands on his shoulder. "your dad used to lock you in a freezer. that night.. that night he hurt you and you ran like any other night, because you didn't know what he would die" you then place your hand on isaac's cheek, caressing it softly "you were just scared, you did nothing wrong"

Isaac paused for a moment and leaned into your touched as he shivered. The relief he felt when his father died was a burden to him, but he knew you were saying the truth so he bit his lip thoughtfully. He wanted to say that your hand felt to right on his skin, but he didn't and rubbed his face with his hand then looked at you hesitantly as he spoke. "I- Iwas scared" his voice trembled as he stammered softly, making you unsure if he meant you to hear him. he slowly smiled at you softly and leaned into your touch again, causing his breath to hitch.

you sighed softly as you try to build up some courage and confidence to ask him to go out with you, but you were too scared that he'd turn you down so you just looked quietly at the ground until you heard a familiar 5 taps on the locker next to you and looked to the direction to see lydia. She must have noticed your flustered face because she tilted her head at Isaac and winked at you. You two have been talking about it and she was eager for you to confess to him, and apparently she was so sure Isaac wouldn't let you down for a reason she wouldn't tell.

you snapped out of my trance as Isaac cleared his throat and looked at the same direction you were just looking at, except there was nobody there.

"sorry about that. I was just wondering if you would want to go home with me? I mean-" You paused and took a deep breath. "why don't you come over and we can just.. relax?" you asked nervously as he just looked at you quietly. "Scott's sneaking out with Allison again and our mom won't be home until ten.. so I was thinking if you'd want to just come over instead of staying alone or with Derek, he could be lame sometimes" I chuckle nervously and put on a fake confident grin.

Isaac stayed quiet for a moment or two, taking in your words, and he thought there was no way he could turn that down, the thought of you and him alone in the house with no distractions. He knew he wanted it but he wasn't sure if you did. if you were just doing him a favour because you felt bad, but he decided to push his paranoia to the side and smiled at you softly with a blush on his cheek, nodding. "I'd like that, if you're okay with it"

"ahh perfect! we are gonna have so much fun! we can watch the notebook too if you want to, or maybe cook or play or just" you pause for a second or two, not wanting to creep Isaac out with your sudden excitement. "we could just.. chill you know?" You looked up at him with a smile.

The two of you walked to your house, as Stiles has already left with his jeep, and while you were walking you felt Isaac's hand brush against yours until he took it in, intertwining your fingers together. you could feel how his hand shakes softly and you knew his stomach was probably flipping, he was a nervous wreck.

You held his hand confidently the way home until you reached it and opened the front door for the two of you. After walking in, you turned to Isaac and smiles. "do you wanna stay in the living room, or go to my room? or we can even cook something!" you asked excitedly.

"Your room...?" He asked hesitantly. Your room was usually off limits, that's where you go to relax on your own, away from the pack. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to be there with you. But part of him knows it won't end at just being in your room. Not that he had a problem but that he was worried from Scott's reaction if he knew Isaac was in his sister's room alone in the house. Scott and Isaac were best friends and Isaac didn't want to risk it, but he still loved you.

you saw the look on isaac's face as he started to look overwhelmed, and more anxious than he was, so you decided to cool it down. "I mean it's okay but if you don't want to that's fine. we can sit in the living room" you shrugged, leaving the decision for him to make as you looked at his eyes.

Isaac nodded slowly, looking at your lips then your eyes. "your room" he said softly and carelessly. He wanted to be with you alone. he didn't care what scott would think, he didn't care what the whole pack would think, he only cared about you and being with you, he wanted you.

you smiled and tilted your head for him to follow you. you walked past Scott's room until you reached your room then you walked to the bed, After taking off your shoes, sitting on the bed, then patting on the space next to you for Isaac to sit on.

Isaac followed you to your room, closing his door behind him. His heart skipped a beat when you asked him to sit next to you and the only thing he could think of is how nervous he is. he looked at you and he thought you look so vulnerable, sitting alone waiting for him to join you, so he took a few steps, trying to regulate his breath before sitting next to you. He was so close and nervous, slowly turning his neck to look at you.

"so.. what would you like to do?" you asked softly, trying to make sure he's not uncomfortable.

Isaac looked at you and for the first time he has walked in the room, he didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to kiss you and see what happened but he didn't want to make you pressured, and he didn't want to risk kissing Scott's sister, he was the leader of the pack, so he let the silence between you linger before he decided to break the ice.

"can I be honest with you?" he stressed.

"of course, I won't judge" i nodded in reassurance

Isaac struggles to speak so he leans closer to you. He just wants you to understand him, he needs you to know how he feels, what he's been thinking of, but it's hard for someone like him, someone whom emotions always were rejected. He took a deep breath and leaned closer as his eyes fluttered between your lips and eyes then he opened his mouth to speak but he failed so he looked one more time at you before smashing his lips on yours as he moved one hand on the back of your neck as the other ran over your back to your hips, pulling your whole body into his lap while you froze in shock before pulling him closer, cupping his cheeks while you kissed him back with the same amounts of passion.

After a few moments he pulls away, and looks at you in shock, he had expected everything other than you kissing him back.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have kissed you and if scott finds out he's gonna kill me and-" you cut him off pulling him in another kiss, slowly pushing him to lay down as you move on top of him.

"Scott doesn't have to know" you whispered pulling him in a deeper kiss that made him forget everything.

he was in a daze as he pulled away from you. "you look so beautiful when you kiss me like that" he said softly with a soft smirk that caused you to blush.

He smiled softly as he gently ran his fingers thorough your hair. "you're so beautiful you know? it's just so hard to focus on anything else when we are like that, when you're with me. We can take this as slow as you want"

you pulled him for a kiss in response, breaking it as you smiling against lips, and he moaned softly, slipping his hands under your shirt, caressing your soft skin.

"i want this. you. Right here, right now, But I also don't want to hurt you so tell me what you want, darling." he whisper in your ear as his breath hit your neck, causing you to shiver.

"i want you, please" you whined and pulled him into another kiss as your tongue begged for entrance in his mouth. he let out a soft involuntary moan, as his caresses on your back got faster. His tongue danced with your and he began to grind on you, making you feel the hard bulge in his jeans that rubbed your throbbing pussy, until you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, pushing him up by his chest, reaching to his shirt, playing with a soft fabric slowly. He sat up on his knees in front of you between your legs, taking off his shirt. You looked up at him, slowly placing the balm of your hand on his chest, tracing your finger over it to his stomach. He let out a low groan while he watched you trace your fingers over his chest, his muscles tensed under your touch.

"you're killing me honey" He whispered, moving closer to you as he kissed your neck slowly, then he sat up again as his hands found their way between your legs. Should undo your bra, or maybe start with these pants?" he teased, and sprung his claws out, moving them swiftly above you, tearing off your clothes.

"i loved that set" you pouted and he smirked

"i'll get you new ones" he pulled your clothes off your body, tossing them away on the floor with his shirt.

He smirked when he saw the blush on your face when you looked away, leaning down to your neck. "don't be shy baby" he whispered, before tracing kissed down your collarbone.

you moaned softly, moving your hands to caress his back softly and he let out a sigh against your skin. His hands found your thighs as he rubbed them slowly, kissing lower and lower. His kisses and nibbles reached your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling and sucking around it while he groped the other one with his hand, pinching the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly.

"I love you, so much" He showered your stomach with smooches and pecks, until his mouth found your slit, running his tongue through your wetness, humming in satisfaction. "so wet baby" he flicked your clit with his tongue as you struggled to answer him back, running your fingers through his hair as you pulled them gently. He took one of his hand, wrapping it around my waist to keep me down while he slid a finger in you with the other, slowly and gently, causing you to moan softly.

he sucked your clit harder making you pull his hair tightly, causing him to moan which vibrates against your pussy as his fingers go faster, feeling you clench around them, sucking them in. "Fuck Isaac" you whined. "i'm so close" you whispered, wondering if he even heard you, then he confirmed as he added a finger in, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you out as you pull his hair tighter. "Isaac!" you warned, and he understood as you reached your climax, coating his fingers with your cum while he kept his gaze on you then he pulled them out, lapping at your pussy hungrily, taking in your juices.

"you're so sweet baby" he moved up to kiss you as you taste your own arousal. He pulled away from the kiss and you bit your lip, panting for air and you moved your hand to his head, pulling him back down to kiss you, you couldn't get enough of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

hope you guys liked this 🎀

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mrkeatingsblazer · 1 month

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The Prophecy [Oh, Was It Punishment?] Part One

Apollo x Child of Hermes! Reader

Part one Part Two

“No man of mortal blood could ever love you.”

It rings in your ears; the words of Eros haunting you till this day. It was no major exposure like that of Nico’s, who was forced to come out to both Jason and you to appease the love God, but still; you felt as though the ugly truth of your soul was revealed to the two boys and you recall that you never liked surprises. Even though the sentence rushes and pillages through your mind like a crazed wave, you’re strangely enough soothed by it. To know that every worry and concern of your ability to be loved was not from any fault of your own but rather the weaving of the fates comforts you to the point of sighing in relief. It’s not you but what was forced of you, a true demi-god faith if you do say so yourself.

You have never been a stranger to a prophecy, being a big aid to Percy during the war against Kronos and your half-brother, Luke, and being a member of The Eight, destined to defeat Mother Earth herself, Gaia. As much as you despise prophecies you can’t help understand the glory of the previous ones you’ve been a part of. Sure, a couple friends and families die but at least you get the title of Hero of Olympus, am I right? This prophecy [is it even a prophecy or just a God's way of giving a diss] is just downright depressing. Almost as depressing as when your Godly parent was revealed.

At 15 years old, after defeating Atlas and rescuing both Lady Artemis and Annabeth, you stood as an unclaimed child watching as the Gods debated if you should all just be killed. It was only when Artemis was asking you, along with Thalia and Annabeth, to join her hunt did anyone question parentage.

“And you [name], who has not been claimed by God or Goddess alike, allow me to claim you as my own and join as a member of my hunt,” Artemis spoke with such kindness, almost reminiscent of a mother. You shook your head at that thought; she was definitely more like a big sister. Before you could even begin to respond to the Goddess, Zeus raised his hand into the air.

“The child's parent should be given the chance to claim her,” he declared with an air of authority, “before any decisions are made.”

“She is 15 solstices of age, has that not been enough time for the child's parent to claim,” Artemis rebukes with narrowed eyes only to be met with the same expression from her father.

“You first take my daughter, whom I allowed to be given,“ you heard Thalia scoff from beside you, “and now you fight against my order, purposely trying to disobey me in public.” His voice comes out icy and dangerous.

“father -” Apollo nervously begins from the throne beside his sister.

“Quiet Apollon!” Zeus demands. “If any one here owns the child speak now.”

The zoom grows silent, you watch as the Gods’ and Goddess’, interested or not, scanned the zoom waiting for someone to pipe in. Tears built up in your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat, you didn’t even have time to process or even blush when Percy slid his hand into yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Your eyes landed on Apollo, to his concerned frown and his perfectly furrowed eyebrow. You recall meeting him barely weeks before now, finding him alluring and bubbly as he chatted with you during the ride on his Sun Chariot. When we got to camp, you remember him engaging with his children in envy. He swung them around and messed with their hair, conversing with them with questions about their hobbies while also never failing to make them all laugh and feel included. You always kind of hoped he was your father ever since you found out you were a demi-god. You sloppily used a bow for a month straight before giving it up; everyone knew Apollo always claimed his kids a month into them being at camp. That didn’t stop you from hoping, from writing poetry and sending offerings to him every meal. Even now you hope he says something, eagerly looking at him like a moth to a light.

“She’s one of mine.” Everyone turned towards the direction of the voice, to Hermes who looked as though claiming you was the last thing he wanted to do that day. It made sense, really, and made you feel stupid for not realizing sooner. Grover always said you were a built in lie detector and you ran faster then anyone in camp, probably anyone in the world. You look up hopefully above your head to nothing; he didn’t even use his sign.

“So,” Artemis said, bringing back the attention to herself, “knowing now the God who conceived you, do you accept my offer to join my hunt?”

All eyes were on you, the deities’ large and looming forms leaned closer as if to hear your answer better even though they had perfect hearing. You once again looked, from Lady Artemis, to Lord Zeus, Lord Apollo and back to your father, Hermes. You caught a hint of interest in his deep brown eyes and sadly, that was all you needed.

“I appreciate your offer, my Lady, but I must decline.” you hear sighs from your friends beside you. Percy once again squeezed your hand, sending you one of his charming smiles that made your stomach weak. Hermes seemed quite happy with himself at your decision, as if he wasn’t forced to claim you moments prior, while Lady Artemis gracefully nodded in acceptance and that was it. There was no pulling you aside to talk with your father or even a look as far as you were aware. He partied into the night during the biggest moment of your life.

That memory fades from your mind, the lavish party of Olympus merging into the end of war celebration at Camp Half-Blood. Just like the former, you had no energy to join in with the festivities. With Leo dead there didn’t seem like there was much point to, the rest of The Eight agreed. From across the haggard bench you sat on, you watched as the sun set down upon the camp. It was poetically finite but still you had a stabbing feeling that this wasn’t finished, you weren’t finished.

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loquaciousferret · 1 year

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Partners

Summary: After a difficult 6-month partnership with Agent Peña, the tension unravels itself in an unexpected way.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, degradation, sexism, physical violence, rough unprotected sex, powerplay/ light dom/sub dynamics, male-receiving oral sex - rough. sir!kink, semi-public sex (private but in an office/public place), maybe more PLEASE read at own risk.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: You guys ATE up my mean!Javi last time and made it my most popular fic so far! (nearly 900 notes is absolutely crazy and also over 100 followers thank you so much). He is so much worse in this LOL

@silkiers @tightjeansjavi

“You don’t outrank me!” You yelled at Agent Peña, and the way his eyes darkened when you pointed this out honestly terrified you.

“Maybe not.” He says through gritted teeth. “But this is my fight.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s everybody’s fight. We are partners, Javier. Equal partners. Stop acting like you are the only person with a stake here!” You respond, exasperated. Since you joined the team in Colombia as Javier Peña’s partner 6 months ago, this must be an argument you have had over a dozen times.

“If you had just obeyed orders they never would have gotten away!” He yelled, closing the distance between you in the already narrow corridor and stabbing a finger towards you accusatorially. “It’s your fault.”

“Get it through your head! There is no “obeying your orders” Javi.” You say through gritted teeth, before your voice raises to a yell, “You are not my superior. Get used to it!” You are enraged by his constant disrespect.

“Well I should be, though.” He seethes.

“What?” You snap.

“How many arrests do you have since you got here?” He challenged.

You scoffed and put a hand on his shoulder to push him out the way and rejoin your team, but he stood firm, not letting you past.

“How many times have I saved your ass in the field? Have you ever done it in return?” He continues.

You exhale with exertion as you continue to try and pass him, but he is steadfast.

“Answer me, hm? You really think you’re my equal in this job?”

“I’m not doing this, Javi. I’m not in competition with you.”

“Right. Because you know yourself that you can’t be.” He sneered.

“Stop it.” You urge him, your frustration growing by the second. “I earned my right to be on this team the same way you did.”

“Oh now that’s funny.” He scoffed, “I know who your father is. You don’t think him being head of internal affairs has anything to do with your appointment here?”

“How dare you.” You say, seething with anger at his insinuation. It's not like it isn't one you've heard behind your back, but it's the first time someone has thrown it in your face. “I didn’t even tell my father I was applying for this transfer. He has nothing to do with it.”

“Ok.” He stares at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Then who did you fuck to get the job, then?” The way the word rolls of his tongue makes it sound more vulgar than you could imagine, and before you can take a moment to stop yourself, Javi gasps in shock as your right hand connects with his cheekbone with an amazing amount of power. You just slapped your partner.

“You fucking bitch.” He spits.

For a second you honestly thought he was approaching you to hit you back, but even more strangely, he is connecting his lips to yours. To your own surprise, you are kissing him back. Roughly, and desperately, and it's as if all of your anger and disdain towards him has transformed into lust with the snap of a finger.

He was ripping at the buttons on your blouse as you fumbled with the straps and buckles on his tactical vest on instinct. Had this been it all along, and you had been totally blind to it? Was all the tension between the pair of you just sexual frustration this whole time, and once it was out your system your partnership could be amicable?

Who knows. But at this point it was worth a shot. It couldn’t make your working relationship any worse, as there was no way further down from where it already was.

He pushed you back against the wall where you hit your head roughly but neither of you acknowledged that.

“You’re gonna forget I’m not your superior when you’re on your knees, calling me sir, and begging me to fuck you.” He hissed into your ear and you froze up under his touch. He noticed, and you felt his lips tug into his signature devilish smirk as he continued to kiss you harshly, dominating with his tongue, controlling the pace of it all.

With your shirt fully unbuttoned he began to make his way down your body, leaving your lips to attach his lips to your neck, collarbones, lower to the curve of cleavage peaking out over your bra. You cursed yourself for wearing a sensible one, not planning on having it on show, but Javi clearly didn’t seem to care, groping you harshly through the fabric cups before slipping a hand inside one and freeing your breast from the top. As your breast sprung out of the fabric, your nipple hardened in the cold air and he flicked his tongue across it, sucking lightly. You gasped and bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the sensation. You figured that adrenaline and sexual frustration were adding to why you felt so sensitive under Javi’s touch, or at least that’s what you would tell yourself to explain why he was having such a dramatic effect on you.

As you got his tactical vest unfastened, you pushed it off his shoulders and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

He hissed at you to be quiet and it snapped you back to the reality of the situation. What were you doing? Were you really about to hate-fuck your partner just a few yards away from your entire team and a considerably large section of the Colombian police force and army?

You must have pulled away from him subconsciously as these thoughts ran through your head because the kiss broke and Javier was looking at you, his eyes questioning you. You considered him for a moment, and noticed how his expression had softened from before. Somehow this made you give in to your desires once again and you were reaching out for him, clutching his broad shoulders and pulling him back towards you.

He smiled. This was all the permission he needed to have his way with you now. He had backed off and you had re-initiated.

Javier had known all along that his attraction to you would be a thorn in his side whilst working together. It made him question his own judgment, it made him hesitate. It numbed his instincts in the field.

This was the tension relief he had needed for the whole 6 months you had been here, tormenting him with your mere presence. Your shiny hair. Your delicious scent. The way sweat would bead in the valley between your collarbones, inviting him to lick and suck and taste every inch of you. Now he was finally getting his chance. And you wanted it too.

You, of course, were oblivious to his thoughts and distracted from your own by his lips which were attached to your neck, sucking and nibbling lightly, making you gasp, whilst you worked at the buckle on his belt and then unzipped his jeans. He had a stiff erection that somehow both thrilled and alarmed you due to its size.

At this point he made good on his earlier promise and shoved you roughly to your knees. You gratified his silent command, wrapping your lips around the head of his hard cock. You took him further into your mouth, ever so slowly, retaining eye contact with him as he slid along your tongue and into your throat at a torturous pace for him. When you pulled away just as slowly, slipping him back out your mouth and teasing the underside of his shaft with your tongue as he glided across it, his patience snapped. In a moment he was grabbing both your arms, hauling them up and pressing them against the wall, pushing you back into it until there was not an inch of space between you. You kept watching him, expectantly, and then you opened your mouth widely and let your tongue drop out just slightly. He groaned at the sight and slammed nearly his entire length into your mouth. His pace was aggressive and you felt tears welling in your eyes after just a few of this thrusts as he fucked your throat.

"We're done doing things your way, you understand?" He grunted.

You watch his expressions, unable to respond. A vein bulges in his neck and a few of his curls are beginning to plaster themselves to his forehead with sweat.

"I asked you a question, agent. Do you understand me?" He repeated, partly through gritted teeth as he concentrated on not completely losing himself in the sensation of you letting him fuck your throat so well.

With great difficulty, you nodded your head slightly and hummed a response. The vibration of the movement and the sound had him grunting again, faltering inside you for a moment.

You could feel spit dribbling down your chin, your neck. You knew you must look absolutely wrecked and once again you considered being caught in this compromising position with Javi. Only this time, the thought didn't fill you with anxiety. It sent a pulse straight to your dripping core. The fear was turning you on.

He pulled out with no warning and you felt yourself reaching out to take him in your mouth again almost involuntarily. He removed one of his hands from their grip on your wrists and held your hair, tugging you back away from him and holding your head firmly against the wall.

"What a greedy slut." He taunted, his eyes watching you practically penetratingly.

You whined and he smirked. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me." You say breathlessly.

"Oh I will, pretty girl." His thumb is tracing your lower lip and gathers some saliva still dripping from his rough treatment of your mouth. He spreads it around more down your chin.

"But you'll have to ask me nicely." His tone is menacing.

You shake your head at what he is asking for and he laughs, dropping your hands quickly and pulling back from you, beginning to tuck himself away and reaching for the zip on his jeans.

"No!" You protest. "No, I'm sorry. No, please."

He pauses, waiting for you to give him exactly what he wanted.

"Please, Javi, I want you to-" But this wasn't enough and he resumes his actions, slower this time but still continuing to adjust himself in his jeans and tidy himself up. You whine again in frustration. You are already begging more than you want to. But you understand that he isn't going to indulge you until you submit even further.

"Please, Sir."

He finally stops preparing to leave you there and you can see satisfaction written all over his expression. You had given in to what he wanted and you knew you would never live it down, but your desire overruled this logical thinking part of your brain.

"Please, what?" He says, already with his cock out again, stroking it slowly in front of your face.

"Please, Sir, I want you to fuck me. I want you to use me."

"Yeah, that's right." He growls, gripping your shoulders and dragging you back to your feet.

He rips your pants and underwear down your legs hastily, throwing them aside and lifting you up, wide palms spread under your thighs, strong arms hoisting you up to be in line with his hips.

He plunges his erection inside you with absolutely no preparation. It would have been more painful if you weren't so wet and turned on, ready for him to take from you what he wanted. A strangled sound escapes you, something desperate and shameless, between a moan and a cry.

"Be fucking quiet." He hisses.

He is bouncing you on his cock, your body dragging up and down the cold wall. Your hair is becoming more untamed by the second. He doesn't take his eyes off of you, never checking out and focussing on his own pleasure, rather constantly observing yours. The way you bit your lip and screwed up your face in pleasure and pain was driving him crazy.

"This why you've had such an attitude all along, needed me to put you in your place, huh?" He growls in your ear.

You have never liked this kind of talk. But now, with Javi, it is turning you on more than you have ever imagined.

You nod and he tuts at you.

"What do you say when I ask you something?"

"Y-yes, sir." You gasp.

His pace is punishing and the angle is allowing him to reach the deepest part of you, every single thrust was overwhelmingly powerful in its effect.

You braced yourself with your hands on his shoulders and found the confidence to roll your hips against him in the rhythm of his strokes, finding just the right way to stimulate your clit. Whimpers escaped your lips rapidly and he was no less vocal, grunting and panting into your ear.

You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly and began to clench around him as the knot built inside you.

"Oh, god, that's it." He praised. "That's my girl."

Whether it was his words or the sensation of his lips and moustache tickling your ear, you weren't sure, but suddenly you were coming undone around him. You lost your grip on his shoulders and slumped slightly but he tightened his hold on you and picked up his pace, desperate to earn his release whilst your walls were still clenching around him following your orgasm.

Barely a couple of strokes later and he was releasing inside you, guttural sounds escaping him. He stayed still for a couple of moments afterwards, panting while he caught his breath. Unexpectedly, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He helps you down slowly onto your feet and laughs quietly when you stumble a little the first time he tries to let go of you. That's what snaps you out of your post-orgasm haze and you shoot him a glare as you hurriedly get dressed again.

With your back to him, you finish buttoning your shirt. "This changes nothing."

"We'll see." He challenges, taking his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and balancing one between his lips. You shake your head, one more icy look sent his way for good measure, and then you return to your department, trying not to think about all the ways in which this event could come back to bite you.

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adventuringblind · 11 months

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I See Your Beauty

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader

Genre: a little angst mixed with fluff and comfort

Summary: the youngest Verstappen is forced to do life without her vision. Thinking she might not be able fully experience her life due to the remarks of her father, she concedes that finding love is unlikely. Until she runs into Charles who helps her believe she doesn’t need her eyesight to be loved.

Warnings: Jos is his own warning now. Talks of disability and reader having an accident. Talks and depictions of verbal and physical abuse.

Request: nope this is self-indulgent. However, I am taking requests for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel.

Notes: written in third person. Also, this fic deals with disabilities, particularly blindness. I myself am blind though I still have some vision left, which is mainly what I’m basing this off of. Please remember that blindness is a spectrum like many other disabilities. It is defined really by a loss of vision that can’t be corrected. I’m open to answering questions about it if y’all have any. My inbox and asks are always open :)

Masterlist

The youngest of the Verstappen’s very close with her brother, Max. The two are barely a year apart so it makes sense. Though they get in each others nerves often as well. Victoria doing her best as the oldest to settle arguments between the two.

Jos decided that two children in racing gives him better odd then just one. Electing to have both start karting at an early age.

They liked racing together. Getting used to being each others rocks when their father was harsher then necessary. It became routine for the two to defend each other.

Then everything changed.

The two were moving up through the ranks. Competing harder then ever to make your dad proud.

The accident wasn’t her fault. A consequence of her father from trying to build a faster car and not having test run it.

The engine exploded during the race. Every one of her senses ranged useless as she tried to react.

Ears ringing.

Smoke from the fire burning in her nose.

Blood from whatever hitting her knocking her teeth into her lip.

Heat nipping at her skin.

Lack of sight making her steering erratic.

Max had immediately rushed to aid his sister. Their father only staring in disappointment. He became resentful of his father that day.

The ambulance arrived and took you away. Max begged to go with but Jos ignored his request, telling him he needed help cleaning up his youngest daughter mess.

After hours the finally arrived back home. The other two Verstappen’s confused why the youngest was nowhere to be found. Max finally broke down in tears, much to his father dislike, and clutched Victoria for comfort. Telling her everything that had happened.

While three of them went to the hospital to find you, the fourth sat wallowing in disgrace at the display from his children today. He couldn’t admit he’d made a mistake. One that might have cost him a child.

Meanwhile the youngest was out of surgery. Continually crying for her family. The nurses had tried to reach her father who had given the medics his cell number, but they had yet to hear from him.

When her family arrived she tried her best to make out their faces. The sparks from the engine had been so bright that they burned her retinas. The combination of the fire doing permanent damage. The impact of the engine had knocked her helmet almost all the way off and she instinctively pushed it away to try and see again. The protection of the visor gone.

The three siblings cuddled together in her hospital bed. The youngest not fully comprehending why she couldn’t see. The lights were too bright. She was squinting to make out the small details.

Things didn’t improve after that. Jos became angry towards her. Constantly reminding the girl of what happened, what she did wrong, and how if she hadn’t messed up she might have been successful.

Regardless, she listened to him berate her at everyone of Max’s races. He stopped commenting about Max when she was within earshot. Mostly because she told him off every time he insulted her brother. Jos already deemed her the disappointment of the family, standing up for Max couldn’t possibly make things worse.

Max had also gotten more protective of his sister. Having been the one to pull her away from the wreckage and cleaning up the damage made him realize he didn’t want you to get hurt again.

He made it to every doctors appointment he could. He attended as much physical therapy as you would let him. He even put on a blind fold so he could understand a bit better. He helped her learn cane skills and how to guide you himself. All in an effort to help his sister feel less alone.

He was aware she still had some eyesight lift. Mostly cloudy and bright patches dotted her eyes making it difficult to make out where things are and any specific details. She liked seeing what she could of her siblings faces though.

Max determined he was going to bring you to every race with him. The Verstappen losing all ability to drive now making things harder for her and she didn’t want to stay with her father.

Victoria had a room for her in her house and let her stay when she needed. Max always made sure there was a room for her if she wanted to travel with him. She loved how willing her sibling were to help her out. However, it left her feeling useless and vulnerable at times.

Eventually, Max helped get her a job with Redbull as a strategist. She enjoyed playing with the different data. Listening became a more essential job then seeing.

Race days were spent in the garage unnoticed in the back. Hopefully out of view of the cameras and away from her father. They saw each other often, much to her dismay. He always had something to say to her when Max wasn’t around.

It was during her downtime that she met Charles.

Deciding her cane was unnecessary since she knew her way around the paddock and the ground is relatively flat, she went to hunt down her brother.

Neither party was paying attention leading to them running straight into each other. She could vaguely make out the Ferrari red race suit standing in front of her. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Came the voice of Charles Leclerc. Though the two had never formally met, she had heard during interviews enough to know his voice.

“It’s alright, neither was I.” She smiled at the Monegasque. “Have you seen Max anywhere?”

He chuckles. “Unfortunately no. Are you his girlfriend?”

The question makes her laugh hysterically. “I’m his sister.” She can hear him sigh in relief at the clarification.

“That’s better at least because I wanted to say that you are very beautiful.” The playfulness in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Completely taking her off guard. Sure she’d gotten complements, but not often enough to make her used to them. The words of Jos not letting her believe them anyway. “Would it be alright if I give you my number?”

She lost all words in that moment. This had never happened before. “Sure-” she manages to stutter out before handing him her phone. The screen reading out things to her so she could get to her intended destination.

“I’ve never see a phone do that before.” Charles takes the phone from her and starts to put in his information.

She mentally face palms herself. Obviously he hasn’t realized she’s blind. “Actually I don’t have much of my eyesight.” She play with the bottom of her shirt. Her father having instilled in her that her blindness is something to be ashamed of.

“Wait- so you are blind? That is very interesting, I would like to know more if you’re okay with it.” The curiosity in his voice rising.

She wasn’t prepared for this. Nobody asks her questions about her condition. Even Christian doesn’t touch the subject and she never brings it up in conversation. “I guess, if your really interested.”

“Great, I’ll see you later tonight. Send me the address of where you’re staying.” His playful and flirty manner never faulted as he walked past her. Leaving the girl confused and blushing.

Little did she know that Charles had seen her around the paddock. Mostly hanging off of Max’s arm. He assumed she’d never notice him wave or try to get her attention. Turns out she couldn’t see him. He knows better then to assume. He blames it on the anxiety of being around her.

The youngest Verstappen finished up her duties as quick as possible. Catching a ride with her brother back to the hotel. He has learned to read her though and immediately noticed something was different. “What’s going on with you? You seem very smiley today.” He laughs.

“I can’t tell you because you’ll hate me.” She did her best not to appear nervous but was ultimately failing. Her hands fiddling in her lap.

“I could never hate you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She glances over at him. Eyes planted on the road. His calm demeanor putting her at ease. “Charles Leclerc asked me on a date tonight.”

Max begins laughing hysterically. His once smooth driving now a bit jerky from his sudden movements. “You thought I would hate you because of a date?”

She stutters a bit. “Well- aren’t you two rivals?” She manages. His laughing throwing her emotions all over the place.

“Sure, on the track. Off the track we are still friends and I trust him.” He explains. Relief floods through her body at his words. Her confidence in the situation going up a little.

She can feel the smug look on Max’s face. “Do you want help getting ready?”

The two siblings spent over an hour playing dress up. Max eventually having to video call Victoria and ask her opinion. The two trying to make their sister feel like she owns the world.

Dressing is less tricky then make-up. Sometimes she didn’t feel like it was worth the struggle and didn’t put it on. Some day she had to call Victoria to make sure everything looked right. If there was good lighting she was typically fine, but tonight was not one of those nights.

Growing up between two sisters, Max had learned a decent amount about make-up. He even enjoyed getting to do it on his sisters if they would let him. The almost squeal he let our when his sister asked for help was both hilarious and ridiculous. Immediately setting things up on the bathroom counter and going to work.

Max could tell his sister was anxious. Their father having scared away any of your potential boyfriends. Even going as far as to tell they that she is diseased. One of the worst things about having Jos around the garage, is that you’re left with him.

Though Max has stepped in many time and even lectured his father about his word choices, he never let up on any of the Verstappen children. All of them getting some aspect of their father’s insecurity thrown back at them like it’s their fault.

When he was done, Max tried to sooth your nerves. “Dad isn’t around. He’s in his own hotel room. Go have fun.”

And that’s exactly what she did.

The conversation between her and Charles flowed. He asked questions that weren’t invasive and was respectful if she didn’t want to answer. He made her laugh ridiculously hard.

So they kept doing it. She had to follow Redbull for work which made things easier in the two. Finding down time to meet up or celebrating together after races.

After the season was over, the two went on a holiday together.

Charles spent a good amount of time learning from her (and in turn Max) how to guide if the need ever arose.

Charles was so gentle with her. Always letting her know if there was something unexpected around. Telling her who was in the room.

If felt like a dream. One she never wanted to wake up from. Charles had assured her multiple times that she wasn’t dreaming and that their love is very real.

But alas, Jos likes to make things difficult.

A few races into the new season, Charles still had yet to formally meet Jos and the Verstappen siblings intended on keeping it that way. It wasn’t secret. Everyone in the paddock know the two were dating. Jos just hadn’t had the chance to talk to him yet.

She’d mentioned her childhood a few times but could never get out the full extent of what happened. Charles thankfully is patient with her and lets her take her time. He knows Jos’ reputation. Her childhood couldn’t have been the most amazing with him around.

This particular race, she was forced into close proximity with him. There had been a mistake during a pit stop for Max which made him lose some positions. Ending the race in fifth. To her it isn’t bad at all, but to the angry Dutchman unleashing his fury on everything, it most certainly is.

Sensing his rising anger, she had pulled her father into a more secluded area. Hoping that Max wouldn’t come back to the garage for awhile. At least not before she could talk some sense into their father.

She said nothing as strings of curse words left his lips. Only waiting for him to run out of breath.

“Did you see how he got lazy? He would’ve finished higher after the idiots didn’t do their jobs if he had put in more effort.”

“Max put in all his effort and you know it.” She scoffs. Arms folded over her chest. This is nothing new to her.

“Like you have any room to talk.” He snaps back. Her head now sagging, knowing his anger is now finding a new direction.

Charles, on the other hand, had been looking for her. It’s his first win of the season and she is nowhere to be found. Max ran up to him as the podium celebration ended. Patting him on the back for his well earned win.

“Have you seen your sister anywhere, mate?” He asked the Dutch.

Max ponders for a moment. “She might still be in the garage debriefing after what happened.” He replies. “I can walk you over if you want.”

The two drivers made their way to the Redbull garage to find most of those who would normally be inside, standing outside in a huddle. “What the hell is happening?” Max shouts over to Christian as the two approach him.

“I was just about to go find you.” Christian sighs in exasperation. “Can I call security on your father? He hasn’t stopped shouting since the race finished up.”

Charles and Max exchanged glances. The young woman’s absence now making more sense. “I’ll try and talk him down.” Stated Max before weaving his way through the sea of Redbull shirts. Charles following close behind.

Before the two could get further away, Christian yelled out to them. “Good luck, your sister has been trying!” The statement make the two move faster.

Charles could feel his emotions bubbling as the shouting got louder. As him and Max turn the corner, he immediately spots who he’d been looking for. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt around the floor looking for something.

Max steps in between her and the angry Dutch, shouting back and forth in their native tongue. Charles tries to spot what she’s feeling for. Scanning the ground until he spots her phone. The entire thing shattered. Small pieces of glass just barely reflecting the light. He’s down by her side in an instant.

“Love, it’s Charles, max is here also, I’m going to get you out of here okay?”

Her body turns towards Charles. It’s then he notices the specks of blood dotting her hands from feeling around the glass and a deep purple bruise forming on her forehead.

She’s struggling to breath now. Listening to the angry shouts. The pain in her head and the bright fluorescents not helping her see anything. She back in the crash.

Her father had spend from the end of the race until now laying into her. She had successfully defended Max and thought she was prepared to take the brunt of it. Until he snatch her phone and threw it at her. It hit her head so hard she was in the ground in seconds. Trying to feel her way around to where it might have gone so she could call Max.

The words were so familiar to her. The ones she heard in her nightmares when she was once again surrounded by smoke and bright lights stealing away her vision.

“I don’t want to crash again Charles. It’s to hot. It hurts too much. I can’t see anything.” She tried to search for him but ended up with more glass in her palm. The tears only thickening.

“Stay put, okay? I’m going to help Max and then I’ll be right back.” He didn’t want to leave her on the floor. She looked like a child, and so did Max in this moment. The two getting their fathers wrath with no end in sight.

Charles sprints back to Christian, yelling at him to call security, then sprints back to Max.

“Mr. Verstappen I think you are out of line here.” Says the monegasque. Signaling Max to stay with you. He didn’t move at first but it was obvious he was getting nowhere, so he obliged. Kneeling down to help his sister calm her breathing.

Jos scoffs at Charles. “You have no right to get in between me and my children.” Anger pooling from his features.

“I mean no disrespect sir, but you’re being an asshole.”

“And is she-“ he jabs his finger at the girl on the floor, “-not disgusting.” Charles almost hits him but refrains from doing so knowing security will be arriving soon.

“On the contrary, I think she is an angel.”

“She’s diseased. She hasn’t even tried to fix her mistakes. Look at her! She just wants attention for what she did to herself!”

Now Charles doesn’t hesitate to punch him. His fist colliding with Jos’ jaw, sending him stumbling into the wall.

Max took his attention off his sister, who was leaning against him, and placed it on Charles. Shock clearly evident of his features.

Jos attempted to confront Charles again, but security finally showed up and escorted Jos out of the paddock.

Charles exhales, glad the confrontation is over. “That’s not how I imagined meeting your father for the first time.” Charles chuckles nervously.

Is doesn’t take much longer until Charles has his love safely wrapped in his arms. Whisking her away to his hotel room. Max had stayed ti make sure everything got cleaned up at the paddock. Kelly arriving shortly with Penelope in tow, ready to comfort Max.

She cried when they were finally safe inside. Pouring out to Charles about the accident and what it had caused in her life. He listened intently, doing his best to soothe the girl. Her panic still clearly evident.

Soon enough she’d calmed. Her head laying in Charles lap while he threaded his fingers through her hair.

“It don’t care what anyone else says. I see your beauty and it is not defined by what you can’t see.”

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whetstonefires · 11 months

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Underrated element of where Jiang Cheng is re: wwx after everything is that they always had a sort of dual relationship. Two different relationship premises, superimposed on one another.

There's the one where they grew up together, as close as brothers, beating each other up and complaining and being one another's closest companions, sharing a bedroom as kids and eating at the same family dinner table, actively encouraged by Jiang Fengmian to interact as equals.

And then there's the one where Wei Wuxian was in service to Jiang Cheng's family. Not as a servant--Jiang Fengmian absolutely refused to do that, even if he couldn't adopt him. But as a disciple of Jiang Cheng's father and recipient of his charity, as Jiang Cheng's future right hand and most trusted subordinate.

It's a vertical relationship, intimate in its own way but with very strict expectations about what obligations flow in what directions; they are not identical and reciprocal as between friends and equals.

(It's my opinion that Jiang Fengmian's core deal was a deep-seated discontent with the hierarchies he was at the top of, without access to any way to actually deconstruct them or even coherently articulate his opposition. Wei Changze was his dear friend, and no one thinks that's a good enough reason for him to treat Wei Changze's son like his own, because Wei Changze was also his servant, and you can't make that circle square. That's not a way you're allowed to love.)

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were like brothers; Wei Wuxian served Jiang Cheng.

The personal relationship was always the most important one. To them, in their hearts. But it was the other one that was real, that had weight in the world.

And it's important to understand that neither can be held up as more factual than the other, even though they conflict. Both relationships existed, and had power.

So then when Jiang Cheng chose to hate Wei Wuxian and articulate his grudge against him, he chose to do it in the language of fealty. Because as far as he knew, his case there was secure, watertight, and it wouldn't expose him emotionally or politically.

And those are the terms in which he's been condemning him all this time: for abandoning the Sect, for ingratitude, for lack of loyalty.

For fuckups, too, and poor judgment, but some of that now turns out to have been justified and some of it was mostly the fault of enemies behaving badly, or even Jiang Cheng himself allowing himself to be pushed into making unworthy choices.

And it was all for his sake.

The thing, the thing in my opinion, about what Wei Wuxian did, about the core transfer and his silent self-destruction around keeping it secret, is that that is a hideous thing to have done between two people who love each other, as an act of love. Beautiful, but awful. As the man who was like a brother to him, Jiang Cheng has a great deal of standing to object to it.

But as an act of vassalage, it's basically perfect.

If Wei Wuxian were only what he formally was to Jiang Cheng, if he is interpreted through a lens of fealty and obligation, he did exactly what he should have done, and went beyond what duty actually required. And went to his death silently, allowing himself to be judged, taking all the burden on himself rather than let harm come to his lord.

Like, obviously Jiang Cheng was harmed by the part where Jin Zixuan got manslaughtered and Jiang Yanli walked into the line of fire in situations where Wei Wuxian was resorting to violence and probably shouldn't have, but those are one step removed from the core issue. In terms of Wei Wuxian's intentional choices around Jiang Cheng himself, at the times he was feeling betrayed and abandoned Wei Wuxian was in fact being impossibly, poetically loyal, an absolute cliche about it.

But only in terms of the hierarchical form of their relationship.

Which means that even though Jiang Cheng has a lot of reasons to still be mad at Wei Wuxian, his actual complaints that he's centered for thirteen years are basically wiped out by the revelation of Wei Wuxian's sacrifice.

Wei Wuxian was in fact doing the tragic hero loyal vassal thing, which very much includes being misunderstood and slandered by the world. (Chenqing as a name choice absolutely references this expectation, and the idea that Jiang Cheng specifically will never understand that Wei Wuxian was trying to help him first and foremost all along; he is not subtle.)

The debts Jiang Cheng has been spitefully calling in and considering defaulted were already long paid.

So if at this point Jiang Cheng keeps pursuing that same line of rhetorical attack, now that he knows, he'll be putting himself morally in the wrong, and he knows it. But if he pivots to something else, he'll both be signalling the shape of that secret to the entire world and looking like a prize idiot.

Which is already how he feels.

To actually address the remaining grievances between them, which are considerable, would require releasing those safe, open grudges to Wei Wuxian's face and then reclaiming him as a loved one. Which is, one could fairly say, more than anyone could expect.

Which is why Wei Wuxian told him he didn't have to.

Which leaves Jiang Cheng at something of an impasse.

#hoc est meum #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #mdzs #meta #their vertical relationship was always the secure one #the one they could put into words #the one Jiang Cheng could COUNT on #and it's gone and it's what destroyed everything between them #the other relationship could be salvaged in some form #but jiang cheng would have to WANT to #and ofc he does but does he want it enough to choose to?#when wei wuxian isn't choosing him?#and ofc wwx doesn't feel jiang cheng is his to choose #the timing of the revelation is so ironic because imo #wwx spends a lot of the book processing his grief for himself #and the life he had before #and his relationship with jiang cheng #and he let it go and accepted he could never have it back after the debacle at Lotus Pier #only for jiang cheng to be forced to reexamine everything basically immediately lmao #but like wwx is not in a place where he can meet you halfway anymore jiang wanyin #he JUST got closure #it's too soon to go cutting open scars on a man who never lets himself grieve if he can help it #because if you grieve you stop and when you stop you die

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