#it would be a shame if I did because I remember it nearly took me the fuck out at the time

[mccoyquialisms]

am I the only one who gets so emotional every time fig calls gilear “dad.” when she started calling him “dad” again after not doing it for so long I nearly full on wept

[angelltheninth]

begging you for ak!jason x hero reader hate sex pls imagining it is not enough i need to read it and inject it into my brain 😁

Pairing: AK!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, table sex, secret relationship, hate sex, banter, enemies who fuck, age-gap, pussy slapping, clit stimulation, size difference, name-calling, degradation, size kink, condom use, body betrayal, Reader is Batman's new ally

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I wanted this to be short but I got carried away, evil Jason was just too hot.

Jason smirked at you, his armor leaving indents on your thighs as they were spread out for him. "Wipe that smirk of you face already, its disturbing." You push your hand against him, of which he bites the fingers off one by one as the table under you shakes from the force of his deep, hard thrusts. "Fuck! Are you trying to break the table?"

"No, just you." He pushes closer, his hands on your hips, encouraging you to roll your hips with him. You try not to, you try not to give him the satisfaction of it, but can't resist him, "What would Bruce say if he knew his new friend was spreading her legs for me? Bet he'd be really angry with you. Yeah, I'm thinking... a little spanking for the naughty girl."

"Bruce wouldn't- ah, fuck, oh!" You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your cowl fully slipping, your face revealed, eyes widening. "D-Don't look at me you motherfucker, this is just-" He slapped your pussy again before pressing his fingers against your clit.

Your hips rose from the table to meet his thrusts, the echoing sounds filling the storage house. The weapons you used lay aside, the condom wrapper glistening in the dim light. At least he remembered that not wanting a repeat of you denying him like last time.

Last time. "We should stop doing this Jason. It' wrong." You were a hero, and him... something much darker, not a villain not yet but he was so close to that title.

"Yeah its real fucked up how easy you are. Letting me fuck you, coming all the time, screaming my name. But you have been distracting me more then usual. Maybe you should let every villain in this city fuck you, see if you can set them on the correct path. Then again, I am a very possessive man, I would kill any guy who wants this sweet hole. Its mine." Jason took your hands in one of his and pinned them down, "Keep them there, don't you dare move."

For some reason you listened. It was so shameful to obey him but had Jason's big, hard cock pumping in and out, making your body react.

"She obeys!" Jason boasted laugning.

"Fuck you." You still had the strength to flip him the bird.

"Aw that's adorable, is that the finger you use when you think of me?" You did. More then one finger because one wasn't nearly enough. "Bet you love having the real thing huh? Finally a man who knows what to do with a whore cunt like yours." He curled his finger over your clit, sending your back arching. "You think he's listening right now?"

No, the comms were off, you made sure of that. "N-No. He can't be."

"Then why is your pussy trembling so much? You want him to hear? Didn't know you let cockhungry sluts in your ranks these days Bruce. Must be real desperate. Poor little thing probably didn't even know how much of a slut she was." He spoke with an almost maniacal edge to his voice, his cock twitching inside you.

"S-Stop it. Its not true." You whimpered, getting all teary eyed.

"Yes. It. Is." He accompanied every word with a slap on your pussy, each sting making your head spin until a high pitched moan left your mouth, "Hear that Bruce?! That's your partner being my little whore!"

"I- I hate you." You managed to still bite back but your body didn't agree with your actions, and honestly you weren't sure your heart did either but that was easier to ignore when you were being pounded by Jason's cock. "I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!" Jason was only spurred on by your words, fucking every inch of his fat cock into you until he felt your walls tighten. Despite your best efforts not to your body reacted to his, stars dancing behind your eyes, head spinning, only able to feel his cock still working between your legs and his fingers on your clit. "St-ah-op."

"But babygirl," Jason pulled out and took the condom off, letting the cum gather on the floor, "We still have the whole box of these to go through."

[visforvengeance]

Downright Iconic

Requested by: No One :)

Notes: helllllo! ok so i lovelovelove rafe and i've been seeing you guys do like a southern gothic type thing so I wanted to try as a southern (Georgia and texas) woman myself. so let me just say I am an atheist that grew up with a highly Christian family. I became an atheist when I was like 14 so idk too many bible verses and I'm sorry if anything is in accurate. I'm just sacrilegious af, like this story oh man. ok this is very much xblack reader based so idk read it or don't. this is heavily HEAVILY ethel cain coded, specifically gibson girl and western nights. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

Pairing: rafe cameron x black!southern reader

Warnings: oh man there's so many warnings omg ok. dacryphilia. hinted somnophilia, sexual religious themes, unprotected sex, graphic graphic graphic, degradation (slut, whore, etc), actual slut shaming, I was high while writing most of this and it went berserk. um it's 4k words of porn without plot. i didn't proofread. I don't remember all of the warnings so please read at your own risk!

You sat in the front row of your church, along with your family and others who were important to society. There was your family, the Pastor’s family, the Camerons (Ward Cameron is the mayor of your quaint little town). The Thorntons and the Carreras. Your father’s voice boomed throughout the small church as he recited Proverbs 3:5-6. Kiara’s father had asked him to speak on keeping up your faith after he learned of his daughter’s betrayal. 

She was caught dillydallying with that little blonde boy from the more southern parts of town. Her reputation took quite a hit when everyone found out. It nearly cost her family their business, if it weren’t for the closeness they shared with the Camerons, they’d have faced total ruin. 

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably as you looked over at your friend. She kept her head down and her hands in her lap while the grip her father held on her wrist visibly tightened. You wanted to go and comfort her, but you knew your mother would disapprove. When she found out about the news, she banned you from ever even looking at Kiara again. Which was hard because she was your greatest friend. Despite your mother’s wishes, you still hung around her. You were her rock whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on, you defended her from those who called her foul names and turned on her. 

Your eyes trailed over to the Cameron family. They all sat in their crisp and brightly colored Sunday’s best. Your eyes looked over the eldest child in the family, Rafe. He was a wild child, a true force to be reckoned with. Star athlete at your university, the town’s sweetheart. The boy your mama would be proud to call her son-in-law. The golden child. There was no better American teen than Rafe Cameron. Until the sun goes down and he’s the devil that lurks in the streets. 

Rafe was a notorious party animal. He’s single-handedly why your town has a curfew in the first place. Despite his daddy being the mayor and constantly under public scrutiny, everyone under the age of 27 knew what Rafe Cameron got into. The parties, the drugs and alcohol, premarital sex, he did all of it. 

The two eldest Cameron children were very sneaky. Sarah, who was more like her brother than she’d like to admit, was just as wild. For starters, she was dating one of those pogues. There’s nothing worse than dating a pogue around these parts. She claimed that they were in love and planned on leaving when they got the chance. You’d just nod and pet her hair, bless her heart. You weren’t a fan of slutshaming but if you looked up the very definition of a slut, there’d be a picture of Sarah sitting prettily. You didn’t know how the purity necklace Ward had gotten her hadn’t broken and melted to the ground from her sinful ways. But, you loved her nonetheless. 

Since you were 13 and could no longer control the urges that came with being a growing girl, there had always been something about Rafe. You had a crush on the older boy for years. You didn’t partake in things like masturbation, but on days where you nearly gave in, thoughts of Rafe ran across your mind. His toned body hovered above yours while his breath fanned over your features. He was between your legs, grinding against you so slowly that you felt everything he had to offer. 

Mama and daddy hadn’t taught you about sex yet. They always said that it was something you’d learn about when the time came. So, you didn’t know how vaginas and penises worked and how babies were made or why sometimes when you were alone, if you thought for too long then your breathing would become heavier and there’s this feeling in your stomach. And, you can’t keep your legs from rubbing together and you’re so hot, god (you’ll repent later), you could die. This unknown feeling gets so intense, but you’re so scared. So, you stop. You say your prayers and go to bed. You don’t tell anyone about these moments of little death. 

Rafe was always indifferent towards you until you turned 16 and your body developed more. And, you were no longer just his annoying little sister’s best friend. Fuck, you were so much more. Your tits practically burst out of your sports bra when he sees you practicing for cheerleading. 17 and your ass was looking too good in your jeans. 18 and the sway of your hips had him on his knees. 

He fucked countless girls dreaming that they were you instead. He just knows your virgin pussy would have him going crazy. He knew about your crush on him from one of the times you were talking to Kie while Sarah was out. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish you were in his arms too. But, something in him was holding him back. He never knew what and didn’t bother to try and figure it out. He wasn’t going to for a good long while. 

When you looked over at Rafe to discover he was already looking at you, your eyes widened and you immediately looked back at your father. Rafe felt his smirk grow. He spent his days in church daydreaming about bending you over and fucking you right in front of everyone and Jesus Christ himself. He laughed when he thought about the times he didn’t burst into flames. 

He tuned out the preaching as he imagined what your tits would like while he drenched your top in the holy water before him. He imagined it was you saying those prayers while you’re stupid crying on his cock, a girl like you should be praying to the correct god. Rafe wanted you so badly. He decided that he was done wasting time. He’d marry you and make you his pretty little housewife if he had to. He had to stop before the very thought of you being pregnant and swollen with his baby made him cum in his pants. 

After church, your father allowed you to hang out with Sarah at Tannyhill. The two of you lounged around by the pool while Rafe and his friends did the same on the opposite side. While you lay around, floating in the pool, you watched as Rafe watched you in the pool. The sunglasses helped tremendously at hiding your line of vision and allowed you to watch him without shame. His eyes trailed all over your body like he was in a trance and couldn’t choose where to look first. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows, tilting your sunglasses down to look at him. When he realized that you were looking at him, he gave you a small smile and a wink. He watched your doe eyes stare back up at him, your bottom lip being pulled in between your teeth while your eyes trailed down his torso. The heat combined with the brightness of the sun cast a light sheen on Rafe’s body. It was making you clench so deliciously around nothing and had you panting like a bitch in heat. 

Rafe chuckled as he inspected your behavior around him, but Sarah’s voice hid it well enough to go unnoticed. “Rafe, let’s have a party,” Sarah suggested. Rafe hardly ever said no to a party. Their parents left a lot so they had parties pretty often. But, you never attended them. Parties weren’t exactly your thing. You’d very much rather stay at home and watch a movie. Or the most adventurous you’d get is trespassing on public park grounds after hours. 

“I’m down. You spread the word and I’ll get the goods.” Sarah nodded as she began to gather her things, you began to make your way out of the water. Rafe eyed your backside while water cascaded down the smooth brown skin. He stood mesmerized with his tongue in his cheek as your ass jiggled behind you. His eyes never left your body while you walked inside the house. He couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you. 

After you and Sarah had settled inside, the two of you chilled inside her room for a bit. “You should come to the party.” Her and Kie always tried to get you to attend one but you always declined their advances. But, Sarah was being very persistent. “Why do you want me to come to your stupid party so bad? I’d feel so out of place. I don’t even have anything to wear.” You tried every excuse you had but Sarah wasn’t budging. “Look. We’re grown-ups now and you can’t just live your life like some virgin loser. You ain’t even had your first kiss yet, darling,” she says as she grabs your face so you’re looking at her. 

She was right. You’ve never been more intimate than holding hands. Your parents put the fear of god in you and it’s buried so far down inside of you, that the only way to purify yourself of it is to die. It’s not like boys hadn’t tried, but you’d push them away faster than they could say ‘hallelujah’. You didn’t know what had gotten into you. These kinds of things never worried you before but this crippling fear of missing out has invaded your brain. 

You stared up at the pale, peachy-colored ceiling and took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll go,” you mumbled. Sarah began jumping around in excitement, “I still don’t have anything to wear, though. My clothes aren’t very party-like.” You frowned as you thought about your clothing options. They didn’t hug your body or show what you were working with. “Fuck it, we’re going shopping,” Sarah declares as she drags you out of bed. 

She convinced you to get this spicy little number that showed off the parts of your body you adored the most. The two of you rushed back to her house so you could get ready. Rafe had already started setting everything up. You were beyond nervous as you’d never done something like this before, definitely never wore anything like this either. Sarah helped you do your makeup, an hour she spent straddling your waist as she focused. You looked like a different person, you didn't even recognize yourself. It was strange. And, your parents would have a stroke if they saw you now. 

The house was filled before you knew it. Various stood all over with cups in their hands or they’re making out against the wall, to be honest, you were scared. You’d never seen so much vulgarity. You couldn’t believe you let Sarah talk you into this. Never again would you let it happen. She had the audacity to leave you alone and suck faces with John B. and you were pissed. You stood near the island of the kitchen with a solo cup in your hand. You were drinking the alcohol and it left you with an unrecognizable feeling. But it was a good one. The music calmed you, as did the LED lighting surrounding the place. You welcomed its embrace easier than you thought you would. 

You watched over the crowd, continuously drinking as you sat on the counter. It’s been an hour and Sarah still hasn't returned. You feared you looked like a drunken loser. And, you did. Meanwhile, Rafe stood on the other side of the house, directly across from you. His height and your sitting on the counter allowed him to watch you as the hour passed. He battled with whether he should approach you or not. The alcohol in his system lowered his inhibitions and lessened his worries. 

He pushed past the intoxicated groups of bodies and reached you. He stood in between your legs while his hands rested on either side of your thighs. Just like in your dream, you could feel the warmth of his breaths against your skin, you basked in it. He invaded your senses. His scent made you woozier along with the alcohol you consumed, he smelled of hints of beer and Bleu de Chanel. His body heat radiated off of him and onto you, engulfing you like a glove. His blue eyes were all that you could see as his half-lidded eyes looked down at you. If you were sober then you’d be questioning how he was able to tempt you like this. You’d do whatever he wanted of you if he asked. And, he liked it that way. 

“Hey, baby.” Baby? Did he know who he was talking to? “Hi, Rafe.” He fucking loved the way you said his name, he could feel his cock starting to stir in his pants. “My sister ditch you for that little bitch, John B. huh?” He was sweaty and breathing so heavily. It made you wonder what had him like this. But, you nodded and continued to look into his eyes. “You want me to take you upstairs to keep you company?” His fingers were caressing your thigh at this point. His touch burned you but you liked it. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea. “Yeah,” you whispered to him. He helped you off of the counter and held your hand, pulling you upstairs to his bedroom. He absolutely had no intentions of talking, unless it was to talk you right out of this little dress you were wearing that made his dick jump in his shorts. 

Once you were in the quietness of his bedroom, he locked the door behind him. He sat closely next to you on his bed. He eyed your body, focusing on the plushness of your tits that spilled out of your dress. And, your thighs that looked so soft, it made him want to mark them up. Fuck, he had to have you. It made you nervous being under his gaze for this long and this closely. He usually never paid you any attention and now, suddenly, it was all on you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he started. He stared at you intently, practically moving you on top of him. You were hot all over. “Thank you,” you sounded more confused than pleased but Rafe could sense your nervousness and it was turning him on more than he thought was possible. 

His fingers played with your inner thighs, softly drawing circles on them. “You know it’s funny. Sarah would be so pissed if she saw us right now.” You were breathless. And drunk. And so fucking close to him. And, there’s a little voice in the back of your head that’s begging you to get ahold of yourself and go home! But, you had to see this out. Maybe, you’d been praying and pleading with God to allow something like this to happen. Maybe, you’d let Rafe do whatever he wanted to you tonight. Maybe, you were willing to be Eve and let Rafe be the serpent that tempts you. 

“Why?” He chuckled and shook his head. You were just a dumb little girl after all. He couldn’t wait until you were his. He’d teach you. And, mold you into his perfect woman. His pretty, pliant princess. “Because she wouldn’t want her brother and her best friend fucking each other. Not if it’s me and not if it’s you.” Everyone and their mother knew you were too good for anyone, especially Rafe. He may have been everyone’s favorite boy but they knew he had a temper on him. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Were you in heaven? Like actually? You knew what ‘fucking’ meant but not exactly how to do it. But, that didn’t mean it wasn’t making you incredibly wet to know that it was what he wanted to do with you. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded before pressing his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point. “I can’t stop thinking about how that pussy would feel wrapped around my cock, mama.” His fingers were now grazing the poor excuse for underwear that you were wearing. Sarah made you buy some thongs because something about panty lines not being attractive or whatever. 

You opened your legs wider for him, which made him groan into your neck. He pulled your panties to the side and was immediately met with your wetness. He softly rubbed your clit, your slick making it easy for his fingers to glide across it, quickly bringing you to orgasm. It happened too quickly for you to provide a proper warning but Rafe wasn’t complaining as he watched you come undone in his lap. Your thighs still shook around his wrist while you came down from your high. 

“That was so hot, baby.” He pecked your lips once, then twice. “I’ve never done that before,” you mumbled. You were beyond embarrassed to admit that. But, Rafe managed to calm you down by stroking your arm. “Not even on your own?” You shook your head. You heard Sarah and Kie talk about cumming and how it felt but you could only imagine. You almost did try pleasuring yourself once, but you were already so scared. Your parents were supposed to be out and all was good until you heard your mom calling for you and you never tried again. 

Rafe was having such a hard time trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you beyond repair. So pretty and so untouched. He didn’t care if it was obsessive or predatory, you were going to be his. He was going to make sure of it. “Do you wanna do it again, babe?” After you gave him a yes, he wasted no time in getting both of your clothes off. Rafe couldn’t believe you were letting him do this. He didn’t believe in God and all of that shit but he was silently thanking whoever there was for this moment that he could only dream of. He thought with you being the pastor’s daughter, that you’d at least make him wait. But, you were just as wanting as he was. Or, you were proper drunk. But, that’s not what matters. 

Rafe paused before reattaching himself to your body, his eyes looked over it. Admiring it. Was he in love with you? He could picture his life with you. You’d give him a handsome son and a beautiful daughter. And, even after you’ve aged and had kids, you’d still be his beautiful, loyal fucking housewife. Oh, shit. He had to be in love with you. He hadn’t even stuck his dick in you yet and he’s daydreaming about giving you his kids, what the fuck. He’d never felt this fucking giddy about a girl until you. You made him feel like a little schoolgirl with a crush or some shit. It was unnerving. But, right now he was going to make you see God on his cock, and feelings will come later. 

He leaned over, scattering kisses around your body. “You’re so beautiful, baby. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it this time. As his lips enclosed themselves around your nipple, teeth grazing them, he moaned. “So fucking beautiful, princess.” He was moaning like a slut above you and you were still a virgin in his bed. He was screwed. However, he didn’t see the effect all of this had on you. Your hips were twitching uncontrollably because of the proximity and of him and his words and his actions. You were begging for something, you didn’t know what. But, you were so fucking desperate for Rafe, you couldn’t bear it. You felt tears sliding down the sides of your face, Rafe noticed in his daze which made him stutter a bit. Were you crying?

“Are you…fucking crying? Baby?” His hands caressed your cheeks but his tone was mocking you. And, you liked it. You nodded shyly. He scoffed and smirked, kissing your head. “Why are you crying, hm?” You were too afraid to say that it was because you were inexperienced. And, your inability to do what you wanted was making you frustrated. Rafe looked at you expectantly, even nudging your cheek a bit. You sighed, “I can’t say what I want you to do to me because I can’t articulate it well enough. Rafe, I don’t know what any of this is or how I’m feeling and I need you to-” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t say it. Your one piece of dignity wouldn’t allow you to. “You need me to teach you, baby? You want Daddy to show you how to make yourself feel good when he can’t help you?” It felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of you as he spoke. 

“W-what?” Your eyes were wide. No one had ever spoken to you this way. And, you think you’d be quite disgusted if it were anyone else. But, Rafe was making you leave a puddle on his damn sheets. He situated himself between your legs so that his cock lay flat against your clit. He pushed his hips into you, which caused you to shiver. “I said, do you need me to show you what it feels like to lose your mind?” His hips never stopped moving. And, you never stopped moaning. What the hell was happening? You didn’t know, but you didn’t want it to stop. You were begging God to not let it stop, you didn’t care about any of it at this moment. Not what your family would think if they knew what a little whore you were being for this white boy. And, you didn’t care if you were going to hell, because as long as you had Rafe with you, no place would be as bad. As Rafe humped you into a senseless, babbling mess, your last comprehensive thought was that you now belonged to Rafe Cameron. He was yours as you were his and nothing would be able to change that. You didn’t know what voodoo magic Rafe had coursing through him but you knew you’d never be separated, till death do you part. 

His hips stopped when he realized he hadn’t gotten a response. “I can’t hear you, pretty girl. You listening?” You whined at the loss of friction but answered. “Yes, baby. I need you to teach me. Please just fuckin teach me, Rafe.” You didn’t know that you just signed your deal with the devil. When Rafe said teach you, he really meant teach you. 

~Now, dearest reader, I beg you let your imagination run wild with that last one.~ 

That was enough of a confirmation for Rafe as his hips resumed their movement. You were feeling the same things as you did when you were alone but more intense. Your tummy twisted with pleasure as your legs clasped tightly around Rafe's slutty, little waist. Your nails raked across his back harshly, but he didn’t mind. Your legs began to shake and you were panting now. You couldn’t describe this feeling, but you trusted Rafe. If he felt nothing was wrong then you allowed yourself to truly embrace it. He looked down at you, kissing you all over your face. “Come on, baby, you can do it. Give me what I want, can you do that? You gonna make a mess of me?” 

You were blinded by white, hot pleasure. Rafe watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he could feel the wet spawning of your pussy against him. You were fucking majestic. He wanted to watch you cum over and over again, that was his goal tonight. You felt yourself grow tired as you came down from your high. Rafe planted kisses all over your face again, “you did so good, baby.” You hummed in acknowledgment, beginning to fall asleep. But, Rafe tapped your cheek rather harshly. “What are ya doing, huh? You thought we were done?” You whined. Your half-lidded eyes stared up at Rafe. “But, Rafey, I’m so tired.” He manhandled you onto your back again, hiking your leg around his waist as he began to line himself up with your entrance. 

“That’s not my problem, baby. I didn’t get to cum and you did twice. That’s not fair, princess. Don’t you want Daddy to feel good too?” You nodded, sleepily. “Good girl. Just let me fuck you, and then you can go to sleep, alright?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed himself into you, bottoming out. He didn’t bother checking up on you as he was fucking for his pleasure now. He moaned at the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing his cock, already trying to milk him for everything he’s got. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” He hadn’t felt anyone as tight as you since he first fucked a girl. He began thrusting inside of you, causing the both of you to moan. You were half asleep while he pounded your shit. The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and wet pussy, and heavy groans and soft moans. It was purely pornographic. If only God could see you now. If only your father and mother could see you now. 

The brutal fucking Rafe was giving you was fast and hard, but he was hitting that sweet spot so deliciously. You were clenching uncontrollably around him as you began squirting around him. When Rafe realized, he cursed under his breath. His hips stuttered as he watched the sight below him. When Rafe saw the tears streaming down your face again, it had him spilling inside of you. Mixtures of curses and groans left him as he came. 

His head was in the crop of your neck while you played with his hair. You began to fall asleep again, feeling content just like this. Despite the mess you were laying in. But, Rafe began to move his hips again. Slowly this time. “Rafe, you said-“ “sh shh, baby, just go to sleep. Don’t worry about this.”

[snoopyana]

boys cry too.

“boys cry too, you called me & told me you never felt so low.”

he loves you so much. you’re always in the forefront of his mind, hoping you’re ok when he can’t be there to see for himself. but he was the least of your worries. what a shame.

park wonbin. toxic reader. angst. smut.

staring at his phone, disappointment was painted all over his face. knuckles growing white as he gripped the device. you had told him you’d be outside in ten minutes — so he drove over ten minutes earlier. but by now, forty had passed and there was a growing pain in his chest. heart heavy, wonbin looked at his ‘i’m here!’ message that sat on delivered. praying for it to switch to read in the blink of an eye. but it never did, at least not yet.

the streetlight that he decided to park under, purely for your convenience, started to flicker. body leaning into the leather seat of his car, the rumble of his engine filled the vechile. wonbin contemplated on leaving. even though he was originally over the moon to finally hangout with you, that excitement was slowly fading. being replaced with a sense of insecurity.

did you forget?

but he had all night to wait for you. so even if you remembered hours later, he would be quick to agree to another outing. you play with his heart, and he just waits until you’re done. there was times when he tried to tell himself that he was done being your last priority. lost in his thoughts, contemplating the what ifs. throwing his head back against the seat, his waterline started to sting. an obvious sign of the tears fighting to roll down his face. using the palms of his hands, wonbin aggressively rubbed his eyelids in an attempt to push back the tears.

but he failed.

he always failed. he always ended up crying by himself when you left him on delivered. when you forgot about the plans that you made. when you ignored him because you didn’t want to talk. it crushed his soul every single time. the tears leaving his face hot and his body shaken every time. but he knew you didn’t mean it, he knew that you were just busy. right? you were just busy because you would always contact him and apologize. promising that you wouldn’t forget next time.

a tapping on his passenger side window snapped him out of his thoughts, causing a halt to the mini pity party he was having. swiping away tears, wonbin unlocked his doors — allowing you to situate yourself into his car. there was a silence with his occasional sniffle. your eyes glued on the phone that illuminated your face. a few minutes would pass before you finally looked at him. but only for a second and no longer than a second.

“hey binnie.” the way you spoke in such a sweet tone nearly gave him whiplash. not seeing how you could so casually greet him as if you weren’t a whole hour behind schedule. greeting him without knowing that you were the reason he was so distraught a few moments ago. “sorry i took so long, i-“ but you were stopped.

“you forgot.”

his words caught you off guard. a scuff almost leaving your mouth when he cut you off, but thank god it got stuck in your throat. glancing over to the man, your eyes scanned his face. the way his cheeks were flushed, eyes puffy and bottom lip quivering, but he still managed to smile so softly at you. it almost made your heart ache. just almost. your eyes were trained on his trembling pupils — the way he looked so sad yet so happy to see you.

“you forgot, but it’s ok. i have all day for you to make time for me.” his voice cracking with every syllable that slipped past his lips. you did forget, but your pride wouldn’t let you say that. you couldn’t say that. so instead, you tripped to flip it. “what? of course i didn’t forget, of course i have time for you.” your snappy tone making his smile falter for just a split second. facing forward, his hands gripped onto the steering wheel. so what now? the air was thick, and he was hurt.

putting the vehicle into drive, wonbin tried to get ahold of his emotions as he drove. all while you shifted your attention back to the screen in your hands. connecting your phone to the cars bluetooth. boys cry too filled the empty space. as he drove around, the music was slowly drowned out by the ringing in his ears. becoming lost in his own mind while his body was on autopilot. pulling into a secluded park near the park.a place you two used to frequent, back when you cared.the music had long since been turned off as he turned off the car. leaning back into his seat, wonbins’ eyes found their way to your face.

they always did.

“did you really want to hang out with me today?” he still had that saddened expression on his face as he looked at you. picking at the skin around his fingers, waiting for an answer. waiting for anything. shifting in the seat, you managed to turn completely towards wonbin — shoving your phone into the pocket of your hoodie. “yeah, sure i lost track of time, but that doesn’t mean i didn’t wanna see you.” reaching over, you used the pads of your fingers to swipe away lingering tears on his face. he looked adorable, all worked up.

but he couldn’t seem to believe you, yet allowing your fingers to wipe and caress his face. “i hate your excuses, they hurt so much more than when you ignore me.” he tried so hard to keep a steady tone, cheeks heating up as he kept eye contact.

“do you want me to show you how much i love being around you?” before he could even answer, you were sliding yourself into his lap. reaching down to adjust his seat — making enough room for you both to sit comfortably in the small space. cupping his cheeks in both hands, your thumbs working circles on the skin that you couldn’t quite cover with your palms. leaning forward to plant small kisses on his forehead. humming into his skin when his hands found sanctuary on your thighs.

but don’t get it twisted, you were only doing this so he wouldn’t leave. so he felt loved, and wanted.

your kisses eventually found his lips, nipping at his bottom for entry — entry that he gladly gave to you. while your tongue roamed his mouth, one of your hands started its own adventure to his pants. single handedly unbuttoning the fabric. speaking against his lips, you instructed him to slip down his jeans. he was quick to follow, a whine leaving his throat when the cold air of his car hit the exposed flesh. you didn’t plan on fucking him in his car, just a quick handjob to keep him satisfied.

it’s truly a shame how pretty he was, letting all that beauty go to waste by being such a cling. that’s truly the only reason you never perused him. but you were so lucky that he loved you and adored you as much as he did — letting you do anything you wanted in exchange for the smallest sliver of your attention.

your lips attached themselves to his neck, one hand gripping onto his nape while the other slowly pumped his dick. gripping onto the sides of your hoodie, wonbin let his head fall back into the seat. but this time he wasn’t crying. strings of his moans and whines floating in the air while your hand set a painfully slow pace. gripping at his base before slowly sliding back up to his twitching tip. your thumb spreading around the precum that leaked from his slit.

he would make attempts to buck up into your enclosed fist. only to be forced back down by the weight of your body on his own. his head spinning at the damn-near torturous speed of your hand and your teeth bruising the pale skin of his neck. it was all too much as once, too much in general. broken pleas and cries for you to speed up.

so you finally did, he wanted it right?

the switch of pace had his body squirming underneath you, causing the vehicle to slightly rock side to side. thighs tightening, wonbin held onto you for dear life. if he wasn’t lightheaded before, he definitely was now. parted lips allowing for any and every sound to come from him. you could tell he was close, you knew him all too well. whispering praises just below his ear to push him to the edge. and it worked. it didn’t take much for more until he was releasing all over your hand and onto himself. repeating your name as if he would forget it later. resting your head onto his shoulder, you allowed for him to catch his breath.

but you didn’t stay long, wiping your hand onto his now cum-stained shirt. you opened the car door and stepped out, as your apartment was only a few blocks away from where you two were seated. leaving him without even a goodbye.

“it’s always me left to clean up all the mess.”

note- ok first, 3 fics in week? let me calm down before i get burnt out 😭😭 but i really wanted to write a subish wonbin and i was in the mean mood?? so my apologies for those who wanted a good end. heh. also i linked the song that this is loosely based off of, you just gotta find it! (it’s so easy to find but still)

note 2.0- quick tmi, when i was writing this, specifically the sex scene, i asked my roommate to help me see if that position was possible. so we were in his car, adjusting the seat to see if it was possible and comfortable. to this day, he doesn’t know what it was for but he never questions me. literally my best friend dude

[rivatar]

Neteyam who?

(Pt. 2 to Good Luck Finding Better)

Based off this request!

Pairing: Dilf Jake Sully x fem omatikaya reader

Warnings: HEAVY SMUTTT, darkish Jake?(rougher than the previous part), p in v, oral, spitting in face, dom Jake, creampie, a lil face smacking, lots of dirty talk, think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything

W/c: 2.8k

A/n: hey y’all, sorry this took longer than I wanted it to but schools been kicking my ass. I hope you all and the anon who requested this enjoys!! Dilf Jake is my guilty pleasure 😈😈

As the sun rose the next day, you slowly blinked your eyes open. You immediately felt soreness in your muscles, especially in a particular region between your legs. Then the realization dawned on you and you remember what happened last night. You wondered if it was a dream or if it really happened. You gasped as you noticed the cum seeping out of your hole onto the bed and decided that was enough evidence to confirm you weren’t dreaming.

You stayed alone in your hut for 2 hours, refusing to go into the village and overthinking last nights’ events. What were you gonna say to Jake now? Or Neteyam? Nothing would ever be the same! You fucked your Olo’eyktan, a whole married man! And he was your best friends dad, to make matters worse. You felt shame and wished you knew what to do.

By now you were hungry and it was well past breakfast time. You had to leave sometime, you couldn’t just stay in here forever. So you begrudgingly got yourself ready and tried to clean the mess between your legs. You were fearful everyone would be able to smell exactly who left their seed in you. So you tried to cover it up by dabbing your strongest smelling oil that you had on your inner thigh. It would have to work.

Just as you were about to walk out of the door and face your fears, a familiar face appears. And speak of the devil, it’s Jake.

He was smiling mischievously down at you, and you just looked up at him angrily and crossed your arms.

“Get out of here.” You demand sharply.

“Excuse me?” He scrunches his eyebrows in confusion and tilts his head to the side, scanning you over with his intense gaze. Part of you wants to cower but you kept going.

“Last night was a mistake,” you explained, “I was in a vulnerable state and you knew it.” You said as you poked his chest hard with your pointer finger. “And now I’ve probably lost my best friend because of you.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jake holds his hands up to stop you. “If I remember correctly, that skxawng rejected you and I came to make you feel better. To which you had seemed to thoroughly enjoy,” he cockily smirked and you blushed, looking away with a pout. “Why are you mad at me and not my son?”

“Because he means more to me than you do! You’ve ruined everything!” You yell at him without thinking.

He suddenly grabs your neck with one hand and brings you closer to his face. Your breath caught in your throat and you struggled to balance on your tippy toes.

“Watch your tone, girl. Don’t forget I’m still your leader” he lowly speaks, his hot breath was fanning over your face and causing your thighs to clench together.

“Fuck you.” you manage to spit out.

He lowly chuckles and seems to be amused. “You already did that, honey.”

You bare your teeth at him, it made you so angry he was taking this so lightly and nearly mocking you like this was some kind of joke.

“Let me the fuck go!” You choke out harshly, still barely touching the ground with your tip toes to hold you up, both your hands gripping his arm to help hold you up so you wouldn’t actually choke.

His smile grows bigger. He seemed to like having so much power over you.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he faked like he was actually thinking, “I think you look so pretty like this.” You fought and wiggled as much as you could, but it was to no avail. “You’re a feisty one, ain’t ya? I never knew that about you.” He muses.

Then something came over you as you decided you’d heard enough of him, and with no thought you spit in his face.

You surprised yourself more than you surprised him it seemed like. Your jaw drops at what you just did and he just blinks once. Most of it landed on his mouth and to your absolute horror he licks it up and groans in appreciation.

“Mmm you taste so good, baby.” He tenderly smiles and you look at him in disbelief. The bass in his voice and his vulgar display lights something inside of you.

He gathers the rest of your spit off his face on two fingers and puts it to your mouth, beckoning you to open and pushing his fingers inside.

“Suck.” He demands, still holding your neck with his other hand but he sets you lower so you’re back on your heels now at least.

You didn’t know why you listened to him, but you did. Maybe it was his authority, or maybe because you felt yourself heating up and loosing your resolve.

Once you sucked your own spit off his fingers he pulled them out. He was making intense eye contact with you to the point you couldn’t force yourself to look away, almost like you were hypnotized.

“Good, now swallow.” You did as you were told with no hesitation. It was like your body answered to him before your mind could tell you not to.

You stuck out your tongue to show your empty mouth. “Good fucking girl,” he said while lightly smacking your cheek a few times.

“You still wanna go talk to Neteyam?” He asks, feigning innocence and mocking you.

You shook your head no, the desperation in your eyes from him getting you riled up was obvious to him but he liked teasing you.

“Good. Get on your knees” he demands roughly.

You were a little surprised at his straightforwardness but you obeyed and sank down to your knees before him.

He gracefully unties his loincloth and his full erect cock springs up right in front of your face. You didn’t get to see it this close up last night but now you’re noticing how pretty it is. Long and girthy, sprinkled with tiny bioluminescent freckles all the way up to the dark purplish tip.

“Open up for me, pretty” he rasps while rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip.

Once again you do as your told, your body fully submitting to him. You stick your tongue out and he places his dick on it, tapping it a few times. You lick and swirl your tongue around his tip as he lets out a pleased sigh while his body relaxes. You close your lips around him and he places his hands on your head to tug you closer and take more of him.

“Think I need to fuck this pretty mouth, how’s that sound?” You moan in response and he pushes your head hard, making you take almost his entire length and you gag.

He chuckles while you choke on him. “Yeah, this bratty mouth just needed to be stuffed with some cock, that’s all” He groans and tosses his head back while feeling your tight throat sucking him in.

You were already a mess, spit running down your face and neck, and tears welled up in your eyes. He picked up his pace and now held your head in place as he thrusted himself into your mouth. You couldn’t do anything but just take it. You focused on breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat, trying not to gag.

“Oh fuck-“ he whimpered and bit his lip trying to suppress his moans. “Shit that’s good. You’re doing so fucking good for me,” he praised as he felt himself coming near.

Your nails were digging into his smooth thighs and your throat was stinging at this point but you honestly couldn’t get enough of him. Your lower belly was warm and had butterflies.

“Gonna cum in your throat and you’re gonna swallow it all, okay?” He panted.

You felt his body stiffen and his cock twitch before you felt the warm ropes of cum spilling in your mouth. It felt warm and smooth like honey and you greedily took it all.

He pulled out of your mouth once he finished and smiled proudly at you.

“Good girl, that’s what a good slut does. You learn so quick,” he said while grabbing your face and placing a sloppy smooch on your lips.

He graciously grabbed a small towel to wipe your tear stained face and the sticky drool off your body. You smiled deliriously up at him.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I haven’t forgotten about you,” he grins. “Bet that lil pussy feels so neglected right now, huh?”

You nod your head and could hardly wait any longer.

“Nuh uh, need to hear you say it. What do you need?” He asks while petting your hair as you were still on your knees.

“Need you! Need you and your cock, please” you outright begged like he wanted.

“Please what?”

“Please.. sir?”

“Mhmm. Atta girl,” Jake praised.

He crouched down to your level and started crawling to tower over you. Your eyes were glued on his lips and he seemed to understand since he connected your lips in a heated kiss. He felt warm and tasted sweet and earthy.

He guided you to lay all the way down and you felt his rough hands start exploring, first just on your arms but then he couldn’t help himself from touching your tits.

Slipping under your top he kneaded one of your breasts, still holding himself over you with his other hand. He slightly moaned into your kiss at the contact and then pinched your nipple, making you break the kiss.

“Mmm” you hummed and threw your head back in pleasure.

“Yeah? Is that it?”

You bit your lip trying not to sound too desperate but still shook your head yes, begging him with your eyes. He took that as more than enough permission to keep doing it how you liked. He shifted to balance on his knees and his other hand wasted no time by going to knead your other breast that was left out.

“So, so perfect,” he whispered admirably.

Then with no warning he ripped your top off, beads flying everywhere. Normally you would’ve been upset about the damage of your precious clothing but right now you couldn’t care less.

“This needs to go too,” he said while yanking off your loincloth. It kinda hurt, but again, you weren’t in your right mind at the moment. And he was clearly getting impatient.

“Fuck” he breathed while eyeing your form. “Pretty. So fucking pretty” he rubbed your leg gently, quite contradictory to his former display of roughness.

Deciding to take the lead now, you opened your legs up for him. You were propped up on your elbows so this position was picture-perfect, and Jake did indeed wish he had a camera for your pornographic pose.

He was practically salivating over you but he wasn’t gonna let you get the upper hand. Snapping out of it, he looks at you devilishly like he was gonna devour you whole. You notice his cock is already fully hard again. Fuck, he’s good you admitted in your head.

Your pussy was a mess, your juices coating your lips and running down your ass.

“Jake, please” you begged.

He stopped ogling you and practically pounced onto you. He stole your lips in a hungry kiss and God, you loved the way he tasted too. You fought for dominance with your clashing of tongues but of course he wins with his larger mouth. He was shoving his tongue far into your mouth trying to get everything he could take from you. And you let him.

You whimpered as your heart rates increased and the thrill was like no other. Yeah, you loved Neteyam as your best friend but Eywa, his dad made you feel like you were flying.

All that could be heard was heavy breathing because neither of you wanted to stop. Then you felt his five-fingered hand slide down to rub your inner thigh and you thought you could almost cum right then. It was dizzying and made your body feel fuzzy.

He finally stopped teasing around the area and touched you where you wanted him the most. You both gasped at the contact.

“Damn,” he breathed while coating his fingers in your slick, “Needy little thing”

He pushed his middle finger in your sopping cunt and it slid in easily. You moaned and looked at him.

He started finger fucking you and gained a rhythm, then slid in another digit to add to the stretch.

You closed your eyes shut and were making so many little sounds that he loved. He also loved the sight of you squirming in pleasure.

“Watch it” he gruffed

You obeyed his request and turned your eyes to the sinful scene. He had you spread wide open and was pistoning his two big fingers into you like there was no tomorrow, hitting all your sweet spots so perfectly. It was so good you were struggling to get any sounds out as your mouth stayed open in a silent scream.

You felt your impending orgasm coming quickly. He seemed to have picked up on this as he started rubbing your clit in circles, making your climax rip through you.

“JAKEEE” you screamed and arched your back as it wracked through your entire body, toes curling and grabbing his dreads for support.

“Fuck yes. Fuckkkk yes!” he praised as he kept pumping you with one hand and lightly spanking your clit with the other, prolonging your orgasm.

You slowly came down from it, panting and a bit dizzy. Your eyes looked heavy.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, I ain’t done with you yet, babe” he said while manhandling you to flip you over on all fours. You could barely hold yourself up on your arms as you felt tired so you slumped down on your face, ass up in the air.

“Now ain’t this a pretty sight,” Jake chuckled from behind you. You felt his tip prodding at your entrance that was still soaked from your arousal and orgasm.

With no warning he slammed himself inside.

“OH!!” You shot up, the intrusion catching you off guard.

“Had to get you awake somehow,” he laughed. “Now take this cock until I cum in your little pussy”

Before you could say anything he slid all the way out and slammed back in. Your eyes were almost popping out of your head at the fullness. He had to be in your stomach, you thought to yourself.

He grabbed onto your ass cheeks for leverage to pull you back onto him, setting a brutal pace. The skin slapping could probably be heard from the village.

“You feel so good.. such a good slut for me”

You clenched around him at his degrading comment.

“Oh yeah? You like being a lil whore? That’s all you are, hm?” he growled clenching his teeth, already lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him.

You moaned and whimpered below him, taking every inch of his dick.

“Bet you’d probably like Neteyam to see you getting fucked again” he taunted and you once again squeezed him tight as confirmation to his statement, “Yeah, I know,” he laughed, “it’s funny, ‘cause you try to act all innocent for everyone else. If only they could see you now”

You were hearing every word but truly didn’t care. Not right now, not when his dick was blissfully pounding your cervix and you feel another orgasm rolling in.

“Pleaseee” you whined.

“Please, what? One cock not enough for you?” he teased and smacked your ass.

“It is! Just please don’t stop!”

He sped up and thrusted harder into you.

“You gonna cum? Yeah you better cum for me,” he panted, feeling himself approaching his own high.

And just like that the coil in your lower tummy snapped. You cried out in ecstasy and he ate every bit of it up, boosting his ego.

“That’s it, baby” he cooed.

Then he felt his rip through him. “Gonna fill you up- fuck!” He whimpered “you won’t ever be able to get my smell off of you,” he promised while riding his out, his groans and little whimpers between words.

“This pussy is mine,” He made sure to milk out every last drop of his seed inside your pussy. He wanted to own you and mark you as his, so no other men could have you. He slipped his dick out carefully, making sure to not overstimulate you.

You were both fucked out beyond belief so you laid limp and he grabbed another towel to clean you up first, and then himself.

You smiled weakly at him and he smiled smugly in return. “So you gonna take back what you said earlier about wanting me to leave or do you like my company now?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and scooted back against him where you were laying down. “Shut up” you yawned.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @professional-yapper @bambithewriter @nonamevenus @jakesullyfatjuicypeen

[takeme-totheworld]

We exist.

This is obviously 100% anecdotal on my part, but I get the impression that for most fans who take Aziraphale’s actions in the final 15 at face value, it’s because they’ve known someone like that.

I take his actions in the final 15 at face value because I’ve been someone like that. But I don’t see nearly as many people saying “Yeah, I totally get what Aziraphale is doing in that scene, been there.” And I think part of the reason so many people struggle to comprehend what Aziraphale did is because so many people like me are too ashamed of our pasts to talk about them.

It took me almost fifteen years away from the church before I could bear to talk to a therapist about my religious history at all. And it’s taken me almost twenty to unpick my own shame and trauma responses enough to be able to dive deeply into that history and start to understand my younger self. I was that self, I vividly remember being them, and I still didn’t really understand them until recently.

So it’s no wonder so many people look at the final 15 and think, “How could Aziraphale do what he seemed to be doing and not be an unforgivably horrible person? There must be something else going on.”

And there could be something else going on. I’m not the author! But the answer to How could he do that and not be a horrible person? is: very easily, actually.

I just think a lot of folks would be surprised if they knew how many decent, seemingly well-adjusted adults walking around grew up in fanatically religious families/communities, had fully drunk the kool-aid as late as their teens or even young adulthoods, and are just too ashamed to talk about it now.

Because I guarantee it’s more than you think.

[kyupidos]

I would like to request a twst overblot gang x reader ( separate and only do a few of them if you can't do all!! ) :D , the idea is reader missed their birthday cause it was on the day they overblotted ( things was so chaotic and they literally just forgot about it ) and only remembered it after they started dating them!! (I would absolutely love you if you make azul's first cause he's my fav lol)

09/10/23’s delivery 🏹✉️ twisted wonderland

ink flavored cake ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ,ヽ( ･∀･)ﾉ_θ彡☆Σ(ノ `Д´)ノ ;; summary. ‘when your future boyfriend turns into a blot-consumed monster, things can get hectic; forgetting things is only natural, no?”

characters. overblot boys : riddle rosehearts , leona kingscholar , azul ashengrotto ( separate ) ;; romantic . 🖇️ tags. reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader is yuu, silly romantic fluff

📡 _a/n. ty for the req anon ^-^ !! this took me some time to work on because i was trying to figure out how it would work, but yk i had to get it out before monday; though i had to cut back on the amount of characters. maybe i’ll do a part 2 if i’m motivated enough. usually i order characters by order of dorm, but i’ll make an exception for you here since, what’s not to love about azul?

a. ashengrotto

— you don’t blame yourself for having forgotten your own birthday, though it’s a shame; three days to obtain a picture in a museum under the sea or else your only living space will be taken from you, being forced to spend the nights at savanaclaw, and then finally, the third overblot of the year. the third! in the end though, you figured it didn’t matter too much. who would be able to celebrate your birthday with you, people from a whole different world than you?

— though you also didn’t expect things to get hectic romantically, you’re not upset about that either; so you sat with azul in his office, spending time together in comfortable silence as he got some work done. it seemed as though something had randomly popped up in his mind, though, as he carefully put his tea cup down on the coaster and turned to you. “also, i should ask, angelfish— when is your birthday? i’d like to remember so i can treat you.” for a moment, you debate how to respond. it’s already been three or four months since that day. “well..it already passed.” azul sighed, looking disappointed in a way you could quite express, before he continued, “oh? well that’s a shame. but nonetheless, what’s the date?” “ah..the day you overblotted?”

— you can’t help but notice the air turn heavy as the silence once comfortable turned awkward, azul appearing more miffed than before. at least, not long before; “well, is there anything in particular you wanted for your birthday?” you hummed in confusion before he started again, this time more confident, “it doesn’t matter if the time has gone, you’re my lover correct? i still might as well get you something special.” in any normal situation you would have probably shook your head politely and say it wasn’t necessary, but this was related to your birthday. of course, you took up his offer— you weren’t going to give up a birthday gift that easy.

l. kingscholar

— some people believed that no matter how different you two were, in some ways you were certainly akin to your lover, leona. after all, you didn’t seem too concerned with the way you missed your birthday, which was on the day of your lover’s overblot, no less; in fact, though you did seem upset to some degree, you didn’t seem to be nettled at all by the concept. although such a fact wasn’t exactly something people were aware of yet, at least not until leona himself became aware of it.

— “eh, herbivore. by the way, when’s your birthday? i don’t think you ever told me.” ..right, you nearly forgot again. well, it’s not that big of a deal, you suppose; at least it was the day after, but you’re over that now. you guess. “ahh, yeah, it already passed.” leona yawned, facing away from you as he laid on his bed with you next to him, in a sort of sitting position. “oh? well when exactly was that?” you shrugged lackadaisically, counting your fingers as if counting down the days since it had passed. “probably..the day you overblotted, i guess?”

— very slowly, to the point it was almost funny, leona’s head slowly turned to face you. usually he wouldn’t be bothered by sentiments like this, as his face was downturned with a chagrin frown, but after all you were his lover. and plus, it’s a little embarrassing to have overblotted on said lover’s birthday; even if you didn’t know. he wasn’t even able to spoil you the day after in apology! “in that case..write me a list of everything you want.”

r. rosehearts

— having a birthday near the start of the school year wasn’t exactly the best in terms of celebrating with new school friends; especially when on your third day of school, your friends’ housewarden raged into an overblotted monster, pretty awkward, isn’t it? but in the end, you’d completely forgotten anyway, what with your whole in-another-world dilemma, and the aforementioned overblot— oh, and that you almost got expelled on the whole day, and moving into ramshackle..certainly some tough times on your end.

— but now, things have calmed, and you’re together with your now partner, riddle, having a two person tea party in heartslabyul’s garden. most of what you’re talking about is related to the things going on in heartslabyul, but you don’t really mind; if you want to change topics, you know he’ll listen. though suddenly as he rambles on to you about unbirthday parties, a highlight of the aftermath of his overblot ( as well as your birthday, not that he knew ), he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, “—oh and i must ask, when is your birthday, dear? we don’t only hold unbirthday parties, you know.”

— had it not been for that, you’d probably have forgotten again, having been months since the beginning of your journey in twisted wonderland; though, you’d probably still complain internally every now and then. “ahah, it already passed this year, y’know. totally forgot to mention it.” riddle looked perplexed for a second, unsure how one could forget their own birthday, before returning to his casual expression a second later. “..is that so? but when was it, even so?” “mm, third day of school.” riddle wasn’t an idiot, he remembered what happened that day. the main star was him, after all. so inevitably, he couldn’t help but feel upset that he unintentionally ruined your second day. “r-really..then..i’ll dedicate today to you, instead. tell me what you want, i’ll get it prepared; like i said previous, we take parties seriously.”

[xoxo-surfergirl]

A Very Targaryen Holiday - Dark!Aemond x Strong!Niece

Part I

summary: Lucera and Aemond reunite with their families to spend the holidays together. Aemond wasn’t always nice to her when he was younger, but has he changed?

notes: the main pairing in this is aemond x strong niece, but I guess I did write it as aemond x fem!lucerys velaryon. Whichever floats your boat more! aemond is not the nicest in this, but this fic is a mix of fluff and smut (but none of the fluff comes from aemond, lol). Slight dubcon, rough oral sex, and attempts at humor. There are no physical descriptions of Lucera besides her having long hair. There is a second part, which I will be posting soon. I cross post on ao3, with essentially the same username (just without the hypen) xoxosurfergirl! I hope you enjoy!!!! <3

Lucera took a deep inhale, followed by a deep exhale. Indulging in her breath usually helped whenever her nerves began to get the best of her. Her suitcase was cracked open in front of her, waiting for her to stuff it.

A few fancy dresses. A few long sleeves—it could get cold there at night. Several pairs of pants. A tank top just in case. A swim suit for the hot tub. More underwear than she needed.

She ran back to her dresser to grab the last few items required to fulfill her trip, when her door swung open loudly. Baela was able to nearly leap from the door to the bed, causing her comforter and pillows to jump from impact.

Her curls splayed out onto the bed in a halo. “I’ve always loved your bed. It’s the softest out of all of ours, you know.”

Lucera looked at her, unease crawling its way through her stomach and up her throat. “Yeah, well. You can always ask mother for a new one.”

Baela softened her face. “Luce, I know this is weird for you.”

“No, no. It’s fine, really, it’s just been awhile.” Lucera folded her clothes to keep her hands focused.

“It’s not really fine. I know we haven’t talked about it for a long time, but I know how weird it must feel for you.”

Lucera sighed. “It’s just, everything might be completely normal you know? And I’m anxious about nothing.”

Baela sat up on the bed, making deep eye contact with Lucera. “Don’t discount your feelings. It’s been four years since we’ve seen them, and for very good reason. Let me remind you that after you accidentally maimed him, he did try to hurt you. On purpose.” Lucera looked away, but Baela continued. “The only reason why we haven’t celebrated Christmas with them is because there were so many close calls and mother noticed”

She remembered the “close calls”. If only they had known all of the times the calls weren’t so close, but no one was there to see it.

“I know, I just wonder sometimes if it’s all in my head. Nothing really happened,” Lie. “I’m the only one who actually hurt someone.” A deep sense of shame leaked through Lucera’s chest, one that she had been trying for years to tame.

But Baela wouldn’t let her stew. “It was an accident, Luce. It’s okay. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to understand it. But what he was doing was not an accident. Remember the year he locked you in Grandfather’s industrial freezer for half an hour? Any longer than that and you would have died. Remember last time he took an ornament and forced you to crush it with your hand so you’d get glass stuck in your skin? Remember when he tried to slam your arm in the oven but Jace stopped him? Remember that other year he almost drowned you in the hot tub? There are even more than this, Lucera. You are perfectly right to be nervous about seeing him again.”

The walls in her mind were crumbling with Baela’s narration of the past holidays. These were memories Lucera had done her best to stifle, but they always returned louder than ever. She would never tell Baela that she had let him do these things, or that there were several more incidents that no one else knew about, because she had always felt like he deserved some form of retribution for losing his eye at her hand.

Aemond had always taken a keen interest in her. He had always followed her, watched her intently. It wasn’t hard to take notice of it. Everyone had.

But everyone had written it up to be nothing beyond youth fascination. Children stare at each other all the time. There was nothing peculiar about Aemond’s behavior.

It was only after the accident that his attention on her took a slight new meaning. Although hesitant at first to resume the previous non-concern from the rest of her family, time had worn away the worry it had initially caused. It had allowed for much else between them to take place.

“Thank you, Bae. I am nervous, but part of me does think we’ve all changed a bit. I certainly have.” And she had. They are adults now. It would be weird if he was still into torture. Most kids grow out of it.

“Exactly. We were weird teenagers and now we’re actually older. I’m sure we’ve all changed a lot since then.”

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

The snow crunched under their tires, a fresh coat not yet salted by the city. Lucera recognized the skyscrapers in the distance, and her face softened when she saw the telltale curves of the family company’s building peak around the corner. Although it had been some time since she had visited their family townhouse in the city, she remembered the streets like she had lived there her whole life. Happy Little Treats, the best bakery in the city. Blackie’s, the best diner on the East Side.

Her, Rhaena, Jace, and Baela had decided to drive separately from their parents, who also had Joanie with them, as well as little Aemma and Viserra. It was much easier to take two cars, especially when they knew they would probably want to go out at different times from their parents who had two little ones. Poor Joanie, too young to be with the older girls all the time, but also far too old to be stuck with Aemma and Viserra, was doomed to float between the two groups.

The radio was tuned to holiday music, and the girls delighted in singing along to every song that rang through the speakers.

As they were closing in on their destination, Baela intercepted the music with her normal speaking voice, the first to do so in over an hour. “What do you think they all look like now?”

Rhaena was the first to answer. “I’m not sure about Aegon or Aemond, but Helaena and I see each other at uni. She’s radiant and beautiful, as she always has been.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you've mentioned seeing her around.” Baela replied.

Rhaena smiled, and shook her head down. “Yeah, she’s the coolest, honestly.”

Baela laughed. “Out of those three? It’s no competition.”

Jacaera’s breath fogged up the window as she spoke. “I’ve seen Aegon and Aemond in passing at uni as well. They seem alright. Aegon is no longer the tall one.”

Lucera perked at this. Aemond? Tall?  She shook her head. “I swear I forget we all go to the same school sometimes. There’s just so many people I never see them.”

“Aemond is tall now? Wow. I’ll have to see it to believe it.” Baela jeered.

Jacaera drew a heart in the fogged glass before turning and facing the rest of her sisters. “Yes! It was honestly shocking at first. I barely recognized him, but I saw the eyepatch and knew immediately.”

Oh right. The eye patch. Lucera sighed. Baela moved her hand to sit atop hers in acknowledgement.

A right turn here, a left turn there, and the chateaux-style massive townhouse came into view. The four stories were gaudily embellished by baroque trim, with a massive oak door calling attention to its center. Wreaths were attached to the base of every windowsill, and a candle placed in each window. They watched as Rhaenyra and Daemon pulled Aemma and Viserra out of their carseats, having arrived a few moments before they did. Joanie was looking up at the mass of the townhouse, most likely counting how many windows there were, trying to remember which room was what.

Two men Lucera didn’t recognize dressed in all black greeted her parents, and Daemon smiled and gave him his car keys.

Rhaena twisted the steering wheel to pull up right behind them, and the other man dressed in black immediately jumped to open all of their car doors. Lucera felt like she was moving in slow motion the way the man was everywhere at once, and by the time she had stepped onto the sidewalk, he already had the trunk thrown open and was lifting their suitcases next to her.

“Thank you!” Lucera said enthusiastically, trying to cut through his quickness.

The house—if it could be called such a humble thing, loomed above her. She felt as if she was stepping into all holidays past, where he lingered with the bitter taste of sadism.

The large doors eased open, beckoning them inside. When she peaked in, she saw Daemon’s black trench coat deep in the arms of her grandfather, Rhaenyra to his side, buried in Alicent with a beaming smile of delight. They let go, embracing one another in turn. Viserys could barely contain his excitement at the sight of the little ones, having crouched down to greet them. Lucera noticed the exact moment he caught sight of the rest of her and her sisters, and his joy multiplied ten times over.

“Oh, my girls! My girls.” He said, reaching in to hug each one of them. “I couldn’t be more happy to have all of my family in one place again.”

Greetings were further extended to Alicent. It must have been an exhausting process for Viserys and Alicent, she guessed, since there were so many of them.

Alicent addressed the group. “I was just telling your parents, the rest of them are lost in the house somewhere. I’m sure you’ll see them shortly.”

The girls nodded, and Joanie said something about being excited to see Daeron. The flurry of movement divided as everyone was sent to their rooms to unpack.

Alicent nodded to a staircase on her left. “I put you girls up in the kid’s wing.”

Jacaera laughed, playfulness in her voice. “Only some of us are still kids.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Alicent waved her hand downwards. “You’ll always be children to me.”

Climbing up three floors was exhausting without the bag, and Lucera could hardly imagine doing it with the extra weight in tow. She looked at the house staff carrying her and her sisters bags, and felt a bit sorry for them.

After reaching her rooms, she was delighted to see that she had a window overlooking the front sidewalk. There were fresh winter roses placed delicately in an opaque white vase on her bedside table, the blue jumping out against the walls of her bedroom.

Her nerves were reaching an all time high. She still hadn’t seen Aemond, yet he was here. But her thoughts were interrupted when Baela swung open her door.

Lucera turned to look at her. “Do you ever knock?”

Baela spun around and leaned exaggeratingly against the door frame before saying, “Not with you, I don’t. All of us girls are going to the hot tub. Put your bathing suit on.”

Lucera smiled, and unzipped her suitcase. “I’ll be ready in five. Wait for me?”

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

The hot tub was roiling, jets pumping near blistering water against their backs. It was heavenly. Their hair was tied up in variations of buns and pony tails, the ends tickling their necks.

Rhaena had been intently looking at the back of the townhouse. “It’s so crazy to be back here after all these years.”

“It’s hardly changed since then. It feels like I’m stepping into a place frozen in time.” Jacaera marveled.

Helaena chuckled at their insight. “I’m sure it feels that way. I haven’t been to Dragonstone in forever either.”

Jacaera turned to her in revelation. “Gods that’s right! You should come stay with us for the summer. The beach is so warm then.”

“Yeah! Maybe when we all finish up our finals Helaena can just come home with us?” Rhaena said in agreement.

“I’d be happy if you had me,” Helaena replied. “What are all you studying anyways?”

Baela went first. “I’m studying business, with a concentration on finance.”

Lucera seconded her. “Me as well.”

Jacaera tagged at the end of Lucera's agreement. “Also me.”

Helaena laughed. “All you three planning to work for the family business, then?”

“Something like that. Jacaera, Baela, and I will take over after Rhaenyra and Daemon.” Lucera answered. “After Viserys passes, of course. It will be awhile, but there’s a lot to learn anyways.”

“Aemond’s going to do the same. Aegon isn’t interested in being a part of Hightower Associates, and neither am I, but Aemond is preparing to take over after our grandfather. Have you seen him around uni?”

Baela chuckled. “We were just talking about that,” she looked at Jacaera. “Only Jace has, really.”

“Hm. That’s funny considering he’s also in your department.” Helaena remarked.

“Right? I mean the library is huge, but it can’t be that large. I’m there all the time.” Jacaera pondered.

“Knowing him, he probably found a secret room and lives out of it”. Helaena sighed. “He doesn’t go out too much, and he’s really focused on his work.”

Lucera thought about the growing man Aemond had morphed into. One who was deeply integrated and committed to his family business, just as she. It only meant he had gotten more cutthroat. It’s the only way to survive in the world of finance they were thrust into. None of the top hedge fund managers, heads of banking families, or titans of brokers reached and stayed where they were because they were the most virtuous. To survive in this world meant being vicious at times.

A trait that ran in the family, clearly.

“We’ll probably run into him one of these days.” Baela acquiesced. “What are you studying again Helaena?”

“Studio art, concentrating on painting. Aegon is doing the same, but focusing on photography. We both much prefer it to the chaos of the family business.” She said proudly, until she realized the context of the conversation. “Not that I’m putting you down for choosing it, or anything.”

Jacaera giggled. “No, we get it. It is pretty chaotic.”

The hot tub had gone from the initial burn, to comfortable, to boiling again as the conversations ebbed and flowed through several different interests of theirs, such as their love lives and the semester's hook-ups, with extra time spent on the more embarrassing ones. It was truly Baela dominating the bulk of the conversation, hardly anyone else had anything to add apart from a meager makeout here and there.

Baela was also newly introduced to the term “situationship”, as the rest of them deduced she was most certainly in one with Adam Hull.

“Just because we sleep in the same bed most nights doesn’t mean we’re together.” She objected.

Helaena was set on getting her to admit it. “And does he stay in the morning? Do you do any other activities together?”

Baela scoffed. “We get dinner sometimes. And go to the movies every Tuesday, but that’s only because tickets are half-off on Tuesdays. And we go to the gym together. But it’s nothing, really.”

Helaena tried to ease her into it. “You do realize that is essentially a relationship, besides you have no direct commitment or any expectations? Someone is going to get hurt eventually.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “And it’s probably him. Gods Baela, the man is probably in love with you and you are too daft to see it.”

All eyes on her, Baela was lost in the processing of this new information, until she remembered who and where she was, and quickly found a way to deflect it. “Oh shut up. Says you, you’re like the genuine version of a pick-me girl. Every man who looks at you falls in love with you.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”

A smile crept across Baela’s lips, successfully removing the attention away from her situationship. “Um, no I’m not. What of Tyrek Lannister? Gerrick Greyjoy? Dorren Stark? And that’s only from this quarter.” She used her hands to prove her point, counting them on her fingers.

Lucera threw up her arms. “I can’t help it! Honestly! Besides, I don’t lead anyone on, just have maybe a kiss or two.” The rest of the girls sang a chorus of oos, bringing a blush through her cheeks.

“And who was the best out of them?” Jacaera coaxed.

“It hardly matters,” Lucera drawled, “but, it was Gerrick.”

“Hm. I’m surprised it wasn’t Stark.” Rhaena gave a side-long glance at Jacaera. “I’ve heard good things about Stark men.”

Jacaera’s face flushed, praying the heat from the tub would conceal her thoughts. Naturally, everyone noticed, but chose to spare their easily flustered sister.

Helaena looked her in the eyes, and threw her a trusting wink.

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

As the day wore on, Lucera’s anticipation of seeing Aemond waxed and waned. She thought it would have happened by now—if they were still kids, it surely would have, being at the age where presence around the family was required. She thought of the many places he could be, the things he could be doing, but it was difficult to imagine someone she hadn’t seen in several years. It was nearly impossible to conceive of it, and it only raised her nerves.

Dinner passed along quietly, winter soup and charcuterie being served on a come-and-go basis in the parlor to account for the rush of her family’s arrival and the need for a little bit of flexibility in their schedule. Afterall, there was still much planned for the day: they were going to the ballet, and everyone would be attending.

In front of her vanity, Lucera examined herself in the mirror. She lifted the delicate silver chain to secure it around her neck, the deep crescent moon in its center sitting in the joint of her collarbones. She didn’t try to examine her reasonings for being extra fickle about what she wore, but it was hard to escape his presence in them. It had been so long, and she didn’t want him to think her ugly. He either had changed for the better and would no longer say his cruel thoughts aloud, hadn’t changed and would say that and so much more, or he had gotten worse. A shudder rippled through her as she tried to imagine how that could be possible, but what if it was?

She wanted him to look at her and see how much she had changed, that she was no longer a girl anymore. And perhaps, if he had any lingering thoughts of resentment, that could lend him to realizing that she was no longer deserving of his hostility.

Her nerves from earlier had thawed, and amongst the remains was a newfound confidence. Her mary janes clicked on the sidewalk, her self-assuredness carrying through her legs. She reached into the SUV where her family was waiting for her.

Rhaenyra, holding Aemma on her left leg, reached over and grabbed her hand. “You look radiant, darling.”

Jacaera patted the seat next to her. “Something got your spirits up?”

“Nothing in particular, just had a good day.” And it was true. The day had been knotless. She had been surprised by its ease, and delighted just the same.

Once the tires slowed and the doors slid open, she reached her hand around to grab the frame, the other taking Daemon’s hand to step out of the car. The marquee hung gaudily above them, its essence of performance steeped in its display. She looked around for the Hightowers, who had pulled in ahead of them. She found Alicent’s thick calico fur shawl, trailing to Helaena’s platinum hanging down her back, to…

Her throat seized. Was that really him? His back was set against her, but she could see Aegon’s side profile, meaning the other one must be him.

Jacaera was right, he is tall. She had never pictured him with his hair long. Her sisters poured out of the car to stand alongside her.

Baela was the first to acknowledge it aloud. “Gods, I hardly recognize them.”

The slamming of the car doors must have carried, and he turned around from his mother to face the rest of them.

His hair swung gently, and she caught the moment his eye landed on her. His eyepatch looked menacing, scar tracing just outside of it. While holding her gaze, he upturned his lips into a tight smirk.

Their families approached each other, not too far away to begin with.

Aegon looked delighted to see his cousins, endearing them each. His face had filled out on the edges, and he hadn’t grown an inch. Aemond upheld his apathetic image, looking slightly uninterested, but they knew him better—-he simply always looked that way. Her sisters took turns pulling each of them into hugs with their greetings.

When Aemond reached her, he regarded her for several moments, his dark smile returning. “You’ve changed, Luce.”

She straightened her back, ignoring the way he was openly sliding his eye across her from head to toe. “So have you.”

He surprised her by pulling her deep in his chest, bending his neck down to whisper in her ear. “I haven’t forgotten our little games.” Before she could respond, he released her.

Baela had witnessed the interaction from a few paces away, her eyes still on Aemond, who had gone to greet Rhaenyra. Lucera walked up to her.

She fell into step beside Baela, through the doors, tickets in hand. “What did he say to you?”

Back and forth, she contemplated telling her the truth. Through her childhood, she had never been fully honest through the extent to which he hurt her. Rhaenyra had questioned, Daemon had asked, and her sisters had pushed after her wellbeing once the accidents had been exposed as something more purposeful. Lucera knew her parents were smarter than she, but they also didn’t push the subject when she refused to yield.

She didn’t quite know why, though she supposed it was because she felt she owed Aemond her pain. It was the least she could do for taking his sight. He hadn’t permanently damaged her, afterall. Even though he got close, she reminded herself.

Her mind completed its process, and Lucera would continue her pattern with conflict as she always had. “Just that we all look older now.”

“Hm.” She grabbed Lucera’s arm, looping it in hers, voice quieting. “He looks like a fucking super villian.”

Lucera couldn’t bite back her amusement. “He really does, doesn’t he?”

She didn’t want to think about what else he looked like. Attractive, for one. It felt like a sin to even say it in her mind. Lucera was startled by how menacing he looked, but it suited him. His face was lined in hardness and brutality, his lone purple eye allowing for expression.

His walk bled dominance, something she could do without recognizing. But it was hard to ignore the complex grace in his movements, how every turn of his head and lift of his hand was controlled and measured.

Her eyes kept finding him unwillingly, absorbing the man he had become. Lucera couldn’t help herself, needing to remind herself to keep her gaze anywhere but him. He would notice. Baela would notice. Daemon would notice.

After getting their tickets scanned, she and Baela followed their entourage to their seats. The gilded plasterwork came alive from the walls, creating deep shadows, brightening the jewel tones that sat there. The lattice work was interladened with cherubs holding glowing sconces and foliated candelabras. Figurative and floral murals and abstracts curled and jumped from the ceilings, each framed by golden trim. The proscenium arch jutted out gently from the stage, red curtain dropped to hide the rest of the stage.

Their seats were hoisted on the second floor in the box on stage right. Lucera smiled to herself. She knew whoever had bought their tickets did so knowing that the best view would be from above, so they could see the aerial perspective of the dancer’s intricate formations. If she had to guess, it was probably Alicent.

She had sat in the first row of seats, between Jacaera and Baela, while he sat in the second, off to the side, closer to the stage. The curvature of the seats allowed for her to see him out of the corner of her eye, his side profile unmistakable. As she gauged where he was in relation to her, he caught her eye. He brazenly smirked towards her, and then looked away. She ran her fingers over the front of her dress, needing the movement to keep her grounded. Shortly after, the curtains opened and she breathed relief at the comfort that she would have something else to focus on.

It wasn’t as easy as she had hoped.

As they progressed through the suites, Lucera was trying to tame her gaze, pulling and forcing it to remain ahead on anything but him. There was so much to look at, too—the dancer’s tutus and tights, skin and hair was alight with glitter catching every ray of stage light. The way they moved, their arms pouring up and down, their legs fluttering across the stage. Glissade en arriere to arabesque. The live orchestra in the pit, the sliding of their bows, the dancing of their fingers. She had so much to choose from. And it worked for a time, until she remembered his presence, and she had to pull her gaze forward again.

He caught her once or twice, and returned her wandering eyes with the same haughty smile.

She didn’t know if it should scare her, but it definitely made her feel something. Like she wanted to push the button to reveal a secret. Perhaps it was curiosity; she was a woman now, and can’t possibly be pushed around like she used to. He wouldn’t kill her. Not now at least. It would have had to happen years ago, when he was still a child and could get away with “accidental” murder. At present, he’d go to prison for manslaughter. Right? He has to know that. And he himself is a man grown, who has risen above such ideas. Right?

The curtains were drawn, they stood from their seats, her family quickly ushering everyone to get back to the house as fast as possible.

Once alone in the comforts of her bedroom, she unzipped, unlaced, and undid every button and tie on her clothing, releasing more than just the tension it had held on her skin. The whirlwind of their evening had finally come to an end. She had seen him, and it had been somewhat eventful, but she had expected nothing less.

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

The next morning after an uneventful breakfast, Viserys had called all of his grandchildren to the kitchens. He ensured they knew their presence was mandatory.

“You kids haven’t seen each other in so long. It’s time you bond again.” It was hard to tell what the room-wide cringe was from: being called kids, or being told they must bond over something of Viserys’ choosing.

Lucera looked around the massive kitchen, and knew immediately what they were going to be doing.

Viserys waved his hand. “I dismissed the staff early today. Instead, you all are going to be making our family’s holiday cookies!”

Joanie squealed in excitement, diverting the attention away from Aemond and Aegon, who both rolled their eyes louder than she’d ever seen it done.

“Why not. I love baking!” Rhaena perked.

Viserys stepped out to be more directly in front of them, looking at each of them intently. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Aegon and Jacaera, you two will do our peanut butter kisses. Aemond and Lucera, I want you two doing our sugar cut-outs. Daeron and Joanie, you two are in charge of snowballs. Rhaena, Helaena, and Baela, you three will do our gingerbread cookies. You’ll need the extra person since they’re a lot of work.” He gestured towards the back wall. “I’ve had the cooks set out all the ingredients, and there should be plenty of room for all of you.”

Lucera didn’t know quite what to do. Her intimidation of him was preventing her from moving her feet. Let alone, she didn’t know if Aemond hated this idea, and she didn’t want to feel his rejection. But then again, very little sounded better than fresh cookies.

Joanie and Daeron had practically run across the kitchen, as if it was a race to see who could finish the fastest. Lucera smiled at her youthful enthusiasm.

“Are you going to just stand there and look dumb?” Aemond’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She looked up at him. “No, no of course.”

“Of course you’re going to stand there and look dumb?”

Lucera grumbled. “You know what I meant.”

They walked over to the corner of the kitchen. Lucera knew this recipe by heart, having made it many times the past several years at Dragonstone.

“We need to work the butter, first. Cream it up a bit.”

She began unfolding the wax off of the butter.

“They’re quite simple. I don’t know why he wants the two of us to do it. A child could make these by themselves.”

Lucera took the flat end of the spatula and smashed the butter into smaller pieces in the bowl. “You know why he wants us to do it together.”

Aemond pulled out the bag of flour, dipping the cup deep in the bag. “I suppose. Funny thing for him to act like he cares so much about bonding time.” He swiped a knife off of the top of the measuring cup. “So this is what bonding looks like?”

Lucera scoffed. “It could be, if you actually acted like you wanted to be here.”

Across the kitchen, she could hear Jacaera scolding Aegon over the bag of hershey’s kisses. “You do realize we need some of those to actually make the cookies? Save some for the rest of us.”

Aemond paused, mulling over his next words carefully. “I could be doing something else.”

Lucera looked over at Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who were giggling over the molasses and brown sugar.

“And what might that be?” She questioned mockingly. While he poured in the sugar and flour, she began mixing in the butter.

“Working.” He turned to face her, dipping his head to look down at her from their close proximity. Sarcasm sat between his next words. “Ever heard of it?”

Lucera was slightly ruffled by this, and even though she caught on to his tone, wasn’t willing to go along with the act. “You don’t know the slightest thing about me.”

He stood behind her to grab something on the other side, and whether it was for stability or otherwise, he put his hand on her waist. She tried not to make any sudden movements to imply she was thrown off or affected by this gesture, and could not say if she was successful or not. His hand was large, fingers stretching across the right side of her lower back. Just breathe. She tried to tamper down her blush, not wanting him to know that he flustered her. It would only make her more of a target.

“Twas just a joke, Lucie.” He smirked, pulling away, and warping his fingers to the newly formed dough in the bowl.

She tried not to watch the way his deft hands worked the dough into a ball. Needing to prove she was not in fact bothered, she replied, “Regardless, I will have you know that I’m in the line of succession. Me, Jacaera, and Baela are all going to uphold Targaryen International Banking after Rhaenyra and Daemon.”

To her surprise, Aemond showed her possibly the first form of respect she had ever received from him. “It’s an honor to not only be a part of our family, but also uphold its greatness.”

Lucera pulled out the various cookie cutters, clearing her throat. They had been apart all this time, their secret torture games known truly just between them. She knew she should hate him, but she didn’t. And the unfortunate circumstances had decided that he must grow into a desirable devil. But she can’t think about that right now. Looking at her cookie shape options, she decided her favorite was the Christmas tree. “I heard you’re inheriting Hightower Associates.”

He smiled, and even though it was tight lipped, she could tell it meant something to him. “Yes. Otto most likely has another decade in him to run it, but it will be mine once he is no longer fit for it. Thank the gods, Aegon and Helaena would destroy it.”

Lucera looked over at her sister and Aegon. He looked at her with light in his eyes, while she double checked each dough ball to ensure they were the same size. As nice as the scene was, his momentary calm was deceiving. She laughed quietly in her throat imagining him being put in charge.

Their own dough had been rolled out, and they began stamping it with the cookie cutter. “I’m sure you will do the business much good. You can be…” Lucera looked for the right words, and wondered if it was even a good idea to remind him of his nature in the first place. “Quite intense. And cutthroat.”

He paused at her implicit acknowledgement of the past, looking at her directly once again. His chest was at her eye level, even though she pried her eyes upwards to meet his. The soap on his neck had a clean, sharp scent. “Yes. I suppose I haven’t changed much.” He waited for any kind of reaction, but she figured it best to not give him any. Lest he get any real ideas.

Lucera slid the cookies into the oven, the warmth heating up her arms. She vaguely recalled when Aemond had tried to shut her arms in the frame of the oven, and startled herself with his proximity.

He noticed her pulling away from the oven with fear in her eyes. “Relax. My days of trying to scar you are over.” Aemond poured a small stream of milk over the powdered sugar on the stove. “Besides, my hands are busy. And there’s people here.”

It wasn’t until she finished sliding the tray in the oven and closed the door that she processed his meaning.

She looked up at him, eyes widened. “You’re not going to…?” Lucera didn’t say it out loud, for she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

He continued stirring, the smell of the heated sugar between them. “We’re both adults now. I wouldn’t be so senseless.”

The tension she had been holding around him had faded, filled in with relief. “I don’t know why,” she chuckled, “I just didn’t know what to expect.”

His side-eye landed on her, but he was playing lighthearted. “You wound me Lucera. Surely I would hope you think higher of me than that.”

“Hm.” She smirked at him, wanting to joke with him as he had to her. “You’ll just have to prove how smart you are then.”

His face held an unreadable expression, but she still counted anything besides scowling as progress.

The butter, sugar, and flour were melding together in the oven, releasing a heavenly smell. Lucera released some of the tension she had held around him. Perhaps this new chapter of their lives could strengthen their family, instead of tearing it apart as their childhood had.

Reading the golden edges of the cookies, Lucera determined they were finished and removed them out of the oven without fear of Aemond shutting her arm in. The royal icing was ready, and she put them in the refrigerator so the cookies were able to cool before they could put the icing on.

A large guffaw of laughter exploded from the other side of the kitchen, where Joanie and Daeron were saddled with powdered sugar. It had lodged itself in the creases of their faces, deepening their smile lines. In their attempt to brush it off their faces, they only served to spread the sugary dust to every surface in their vicinity.

Daeron, upon realizing the blessing this was, ran to Aegon with his snowy sugared hands and started furiously wiping them on the back of Aegon’s sweater.

Having been attacked by the enemy in a blind spot, Aegon was initially at the disadvantage. But, once he turned around, he used his height and weight to throw Daeron to the ground.

This move might have deterred many from another attack, but Daeron was a Targaryen, afterall. He grabbed onto Aegon’s leg, not letting go. It was an advanced move, leaving the victim—Aegon—unable to do much else than furiously try to peel him away.

Joanie made a jump to his other leg despite Aegon’s protests for her to not get involved. The two clung to his calves, anchoring him to the floor, giggling in victory. Aegon ceased his complaining and sighed in defeat.

“Anyone want to help me?” Aegon moaned.

Jacaera was busy pressing what was left of the hershey’s kisses into the cookies. She shrugged. “I can’t, I have to do this while they’re fresh out of the oven.” Besides, she was too amused by the situation.

“Sorry, I don’t want to get powdered sugar all over my new pants.” Baela shouted from across the kitchen.

Aemond was also pleased by his brothers, and after hesitating a few moments too long, began long strides towards the scene.

He had nearly reached Aegon, but once Daeron had peeked his head around Aegon’s knee to see the long legs of his other brother coming towards them, he flung himself off of Aegon and skittered across the floor. Joanie was quick to follow.

Once the cookies were all primed and pretty—to the best of their ability, at least—Lucera padded up the steps with a giggling Jacaera. In the parlor, Rhaenyra was drinking tea with Alicent. They must have heard of Viserys’ plan, as they looked at Lucera with concern, subtly checking over her limbs and face for any signs of harm as they had done when she was younger.

Alicent leaned over with furrowed brows and express interest, Rhaenyra had worry in her eyes. “How was baking my darlings?”

Knowing that they truly wished to know of her wellbeing, Lucera was relieved that for once around the holidays, she could tell them the truth. “It was good! No unlucky burns or anything! Just tasty cookies.”

They brought a plate over with all of their treats.

Rhaenyra beamed at her daughters. “I see gingerbreads, sugar cut-outs, and—?”

Jacaera leaned forward. “Peanut butter kisses. Aegon ate half of the hershey’s chocolates, so we didn’t have enough to put on top of all of them. Those ones are just plain peanut butter cookies.”

Alicent rolled her eyes through her smile, lovingly joking. “Of course he did, the little twat. I’m sure they’re still delicious.”

“Once he stopped eating the candy and started participating, he really enjoyed baking. Does he ever go down to the kitchens to bake?”

Lucera raised her eyebrows. She knew exactly what made Aegon so interested in baking earlier, and it wasn’t the sweets.

“He’s never thought it interesting before. Perhaps he was just happy to see everyone.” Alicent had toned down her surprise at the idea that he enjoyed the experience, having a mother’s sense of what was really at play. Her and Lucera shared a knowing glance, Jacaera none the wiser.

“And you Lucera?” Alicent had turned to face her.

“Oh yes! Aemond and I got along quite well. He’s an arse, but it suits him.” The sense of relief she glimpsed earlier had returned, and the weight of lying no longer chained to her. She was able to be genuine without having to pretend. It was a welcome feeling.

“He’s a proud man, that’s for sure. I still don’t know where he inherited his arrogance.” Alicent chimed.

Rhaenyra was put at ease with the grace of her features, always knowing the truth of her daughter. A shadow of skepticism remained, but she was optimistic that their maturation had changed things. “I’m glad you had a good time, darling.”

At least for the time being, any fears she had could be put to rest.

It had been a hard period of time when she had lied to her, both of them knowing that there was something much deeper to her words. It had been why, without too much evidence, Rhaenyra had decided it best that they spend a few holidays alone at Dragonstone. Viserys had insisted that they return each year, believing that it best for the family to be together when there was tension. Namely, after the accident where Aemond lost his eye, and his consequent aggression towards Lucera. Rhaenyra could only look at the truth in her daughter’s eyes for so long.

He hadn’t done anything out in the open, but he was occasionally sloppy. He was only a child after all, and was still learning how to keep a victim silent. He was lucky it was Lucera, who in her docility and self-blaming from the accident, let him act as he saw fit.

Her least favorite memory was when he held her head over the tub in the basement filled with water. He had grabbed her hair and held her face under water, keeping it there until her squirms softened to near limpness. He would then pull her up again, allowing for her to catch her breath before repeating the cycle. She had silently trusted him to let her live. It didn’t make the moments she spent choked underwater any less terrifying.

That had been the last time she saw him. Rhaenyra had remembered her coming up the stairs, face flushed, edges of her hair wet. Lucera recalled telling her that she slipped and fell in the snow outside, but her eyes had given her away. Even after much pressure, Rhaenyra still wasn’t sure what had happened, but she knew Aemond was involved and that Lucera looked like she had been through a torture sequence. Which, of course, she had.

But those days were behind them. He had said it himself.

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

Later in the evening, after a light dinner, a particularly competitive game of Scrabble that nearly ended with Daemon’s knife at Aemond’s throat, and a Hallmark movie that Viserys claimed would “calm everyone down” (which it hadn’t—not entirely—although the two had slowly united across the one hour and thirty five minute screen time against their hatred for such movies), the family had dispersed and found their ways to bed.

Lucera was tucked in, nearly drowning in the comforter, just how she liked it. There was just one thing—she needed water. Her eyes had closed, her body tired and unwilling to go downstairs. But her throat was scratching for relief, and no amount of willing herself to sleep had changed it.

She skimpered down the steps, her long fuzzy socks lightening the blow of her feet. All of the lights had been turned off, and she relied on the underlights of the cabinets to light her way.

Under the fridge light, she filled up her cup.

The silence was broken by the stream coming from the fridge, and then by footsteps coming near. Lucera tried to cover up what little she could, as a simple t-shirt and underwear had been all she needed in the privacy of her room. She hoped whoever it was wouldn’t look too closely or scold her for being so indecent.

She would be gone in a moment anyway.

Putting her water glass in the sink, she turned to go down the hallway when she saw the illumination of platinum hair in the dark.

“Aemond.” And even though she whispered, the surprise was not lacking in her voice.

“Lucera. It’s getting late.” He was stepping closer to her, his voice soft.

“I was just a bit thirsty. I’m going back to bed now.” She tried to step around him, but he blocked her way with his arm against the wall.

“You know, before I saw you I wondered if I’d continue our little games.” He glazed his eye over her near-nakedness. “I thought I might not. And then I saw you, this pretty little thing, and I realized that we can have so much more fun together.”

She knew what he meant by it, but tried to ignore it for the moment. “But I thought you said you wouldn’t—”

“I said I wouldn’t scar you. I never said I wouldn’t do other things.” He grabbed a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers. “Oh how you’ve grown, Lucera.”

She tried to grab at the wrist of his hand in her hair, but he only grabbed onto her wrists instead, pushing her backwards towards a door in the hallway. He fumbled with the knob before throwing her in, the force of it landing her on the floor.

Lucera pulled her hair out of her face and stood up. “You didn’t need to be so rough with me.”

He grabbed her chin domineeringly soft. “Look at me, Lucera.”

Her lip quivered and she looked up at him, her large doe eyes unable to prevent her from looking nothing but innocent.

He looked deep in her eyes, commanding her submission with nothing but a look. “You always let me torture you, sweet little thing.”

All breath in her body halted, every movement, every beat of blood. The silence around her grew louder, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

“But now I want to do other things to you. I’m still using your body, of course, just in a different way. And you’re still going to listen to me, just like you always have?” Aemond tilted her jaw upwards to the right, then moved it to the left, as if he was examining her face from every angle.

The blood moving through her veins got thicker, her heart quickening its pace. Lucera quietly admitted to herself that she was excited at the idea that he could want her that way. Did he really think her attractive enough to want? He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Did he? Surely he didn’t want her like that.

He sneered in her face, clearly finding her dumbfoundedness amusing. “Look at you. Big eyes just looking up at me, waiting for validation. I knew you’d do anything I’d ask. Hells, you’ll probably enjoy it too.”

Lucera didn’t know how he had such a hold on her. How could he get away with talking to her like this? Why did she let him? Why was her belly aching with heat? She could feel her arousal dripping along her slit, sitting warm in her panties.

She pulled every last string of dignity together and tightened her hold to say, “No, Aemond. You’re not allowed to treat me this way.” and tried her hardest to turn away from him.

But, he was quick to react, and immediately pulled her backside flush against him, arms locked across her neck and midsection. “Squirm all you want. I see how your eyes hold nothing but submission for me, they always have. Is it guilt? Or something else?” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t believe you wouldn’t enjoy every last drop of anything I give you. I’ll prove it to you right now.”

He moved his hand knowingly across her hip bones, giving them a hearty squeeze before sliding his fingers down her thigh to hike up her skirt. Her panic was felt immediately as she put her back and shoulders into every push and shove she gave him. “No, no no no, don’t—”

“Why? Are you worried about what I’ll find?” She wasn’t able to break out of the cage that was his strength, and his fingers gently trailed across the thin fabric hiding her entrance. What little barrier she had did a poor job of concealing her heated wetness.

He began lightly circling her clit, bending his face into her neck. “Tsk tsk tsk. Just as I thought, Lucie.”

She whimpered. “I just, I just am confused.”

“Hmm? I don’t think your body is confused. Your body wants me, Lucie. It wants me inside you. It’s all soaking and ready to take me.”

“You’re just so mean to me. I can’t let you do this if you’re mean to me.”

Aemond chuckled, feeling her melt into his touch as his deft fingers pleasured her. “You’ve always been so good at letting me take out my frustrations on you. This is no different, Lucie.”

She whimpered in his arms, unable to control the profound pleasure he was thrusting upon her. And it was him. There was something so enrapturing about his presence. She wanted to be engulfed in it, to feed off of it. But he had too much power—it wasn’t fair, he had always had the upper hand.

He slipped his fingers underneath the constraints of her underwear, immediately finding her slick folds. He gathered some of the wetness he found there and brought it up to her clit, where he rubbed gentle circles against her. “You’re soaking for me Lucie. I want to hear you submit to me. Your body is begging you.”

She whimpered again. The pleasure was too great, his weight pressed against her from all sides. Lucera needed more. Her resolve and rationality were slipping, disintegrating into a state of utter obedience, the teasing becoming too much to bear. It was like he was drowning her again.

“Anything, I’ll do anything, Aemond. I need this,” her voice squeaked from under his arm.

He laughed darkly in her ear before licking it, the warm sensation filling out through the rest of her body. “You will listen and do as I say, yes?”

“Yes. I swear it.” She cried.

“Good. On your knees, sweet girl.”

Her eyes got even bigger as she received his command. Lucera hesitated, looking up at him in his utter assertiveness. The look in his eye alone made her knees buckle.

Softly finding the most comfortable position she could on her knees, she tilted up her chin, attempting to hold as much dignity as possible. He grabbed both of her cheeks with each hand, fat pudging out between his thumbs and forefingers.

“You’re going to swallow my cock, do you understand? And when I decide I want to fuck your throat, I will.” He moved his right thumb down to her chin. “And if you bite, we can play one of our old games.”

She wouldn’t have bit him, but she was old enough to realize he got off on the power he had over her. And yet, she didn’t have to fake her submission. It was real, and it soaked her through.

With that, he let go of her face and gave her a playful slap on the cheek.

His hands remained at his sides, and she took that to mean that she must be the one to remove his pants.

Lucera tried to conceal the hesitation to approach his cock, but she couldn’t help herself. The bulge reaching across his leg was considerable, and she was unsure about trying to stuff something so large in her throat.

When she finally collected the courage to pull down the flannel in her fingertips, she was truly faced with the reality of such an act.

He was beautiful. Of course, even his cock has to be perfect. She took her hand, and worked the warm skin up and down, twisting her palm ever so slightly.

“Suck.” He said bluntly. 

“I’ll try, but I don’t know how I’m going to—”

“If you can’t figure it out, I think pounding your throat will do the trick.” He interjected, his hand landing in her hair firmly.

This drove her to action, as she wanted to maintain as much control in the situation as possible. She pushed the head past her lips, his salty precum landing on her tongue. Her jaw expanded as much as it could, and she pushed herself to swallow his length.

Lucera could already feel the sides of her mouth being triggered to wetness by the intrusion, and she was thankful for it. She held onto the base to steady herself, and she began slowly moving back and forth, lathing her tongue on the bottom of his cock.

She could feel his hands shift in her hair as he played with it gently, combing his fingers through.

“You’re such a good girl, Lucera”

His voice felt like pure encouragement, and his validation was something she had never felt before. Lucera decided she liked that feeling.

She pushed herself deeper on him as her throat warmed up, but was still unable to fit it all. She tried using her hand to make up for what she couldn’t reach, and although she wished she could deep throat him, she was proud that she had made it this far.

He grabbed her hair a bit more assertively, and guided her up and down with a touch more of force. “You’re taking it so well, your throat wraps around me perfectly.”

Her eyes had begun to slightly water, but she still tried to connect their eyes. She had read in a magazine that boys liked that.

He began to move her head even more strongly, and pushed her throat further on his cock. She gagged, but he only moaned in his chest, the sensation squeezing his cock in her throat.

Lucera could hardly see, her tears clouding her vision. Her saliva gathered around her lips and slopped down her chin as she felt him push deep into her throat.

“Look at you, on your knees for me. This is where you belong.” He thrust into her mouth, holding her by the back of her head. As rough as he was, Lucera found that she just wanted to impress him. To show him that she wasn’t weak, and that she was capable.

“Fuck, Lucera.” He moaned above her, his breath deepening. With animalistic impulse, he worked her throat with lewd hunger, before pulling her as hard as he could towards his hips.

She knew what was about to happen, and although she was still choking on his cock, braced herself. Lucera felt his length throb in her mouth as he unloaded down her gullet and straight to her belly.

Having ceased his brutal thrusts, Aemond brushed her hair gently. “Swallow all of it, Lucie.”

She subconsciously tried to swallow around it, but it was difficult to move much of anything.

After holding her there for a few more moments, he released her. She stuttered backwards slightly, coughing and gulping for air.

He tucked himself back beneath his waistband, and bent down next to her. He took her shirt and wiped off the excess spit that had gathered around her chin, and then moved it up to wipe her eyes.

“You’re gorgeous on your knees, you know that?” His hand dragged languidly against her inner thigh, towards her underwear. She inhaled deeply at his movements, canting her hips to meet his hand.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you?” He tilted his head, looking down at her below him devilishly. “My cock down your throat only made you more soaked, hmm?”

His words burned into her pleasure, and Lucera couldn’t help but whimper. His fingers on her moved in light circles on her clit, warping the pleasure building inside her.

“Tell me how it felt in your throat.” His voice poured over her. She drank in each syllable of every lewd word spitting out of his mouth like ambrosia. 

“You felt heavy on my tongue,” Lucera said, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t know how I was going to take it.”

“Hmm, that’s right.” He drawled. “It’s not easy taking a thick down your throat is it?”

“N-no.” She mewled.

“But you did a good job,” he brushed his thumb above her stomach. “You didn’t miss a drop.”

She panted as he loomed above her, playing her body like an instrument. She had already been so worked up, so much ache already inside her, that she knew her orgasm was coming. Aemond must have noticed too, for he picked up his pacing to the exact tempo she needed.

“Cum on my fingers, Lucie.”

She didn’t need anything further than his voice to send her over the edge as her eyes rolled back in her head, orgasmic pleasure bursting deep in her belly. She did her best to hold back the amplitude of the cries in her throat lest someone hear her.

The euphoria rippled through her body, and she could feel his satisfaction at her pleasure. After a few more moments, the lingering contentment was joined by a new wave of drowsiness.

It was late.

Lucera opened her eyes. Aemond stood up, pulling her up with him.

“Sleep well, Lucie.” He opened the door, gave her a quick slap on her ass, and walked towards the kitchen.

Her haze carried her to bed, where she unceremoniously slung herself under the covers, half-unconscious already. 

[ggukkiedae]

pairing: prince!chenle x pirate!reader

warning/s: sword fighting, jumping off of high places

wc: 757

notes from cia: remember when i said i’d start writing idol x reader stuff? here’s the first one! bc we have a lack of chenle fics on this app 🤧

“Eyes up, Your Highness. Your opponent’s eyes can tell you their next move.”

The sound of metal sliding against metal filled the room as you two sparred, one calculating and one determined. Swords met high in front of your faces before you twisted your blades, bringing his down with yours. A harsh yet sudden burst of pressure was all you needed to push onto his blade for him to stagger backwards.

His back hit the wall, and you maintained your distance while waiting for him to gather his bearings. He looked up at you with a smirk before correcting his posture and crouching in preparation to lunge. “Nearly got me there, Princess.”

With all the speed he could muster, he rushed forward and held his sword up, aiming to lay it against your neck, but you caught the blade with yours, parrying it out of his hands and onto the floor alongside your own. The sound of swords clattering echoed as something else sharp was placed against his jugular, your faces inches apart.

“Correction,” you smiled innocently, a tilt to your head, “I did get you. And I’m not actually a princess. Unlike you, Your Royal Highness Prince Chenle, second-in-line to the throne.”

“And yet the Seven Seas continue to address you as such,” he smiled at you, more genuinely this time. “I yield for this round. Tea?”

“You royals are the strangest of creatures,” you took a step back with a laugh, bending down to pick up your swords after sheathing your dagger back in its hidden holster. You turned around, handing his rapier back to him and accepting the tea he presented you with.

He raised his eyebrows at you. “How so?”

“You pride yourselves in the art of fencing, but a real blade in your hands and you barely come to any use.”

“I would take offence, My Lady,” he pulled a seat out for you, “but I have seen you in battle. Yet, the style you use in a match against me is different. Why is that?”

You took the seat. “Because you and I aren’t on opposing sides. And I hope we never meet the day you turn to my ways.”

He nodded at her. “When do you set sail again?”

“3 days off,” your body slumped forward in exhaustion, remembering the mission assigned to your ship. “My father wants to make sure the fleet arrives well-received. Promadere is probably the only trading capital where pirates can roam freely, and apparently I am the best choice to maintain that status.”

“Daughter of the King of the Seven Seas, feared by many and respected by all,” the full title rolled off of Chenle’s tongue.

“Feared by your father and all kings,” you added on with a snort, “Despite the fact that he isn’t actual royalty and that my father complains at the sight of herbs near his food and enjoys collecting miniature animal figurines.”

“Yes, it’s a shame they don’t see his soft side that his daughter brings out.”

“I presume you find yourself funny, Your Highness,” you raised an eyebrow.

He raised his cup to you in a false cheers motion. “Only the best quality humour to come out of a royal's mouth, My Lady. Staying for the night?”

“I’m afraid I cannot stay,” you smiled sadly and stood up, walking to his window. “While I do enjoy seeing your eyes light up hearing my awesome adventures, you have your mundane princely duties to return to, and I have a crew to prepare.”

He followed you to the window, watching as you stood on the sill. “You’ll return before you set sail, yes?”

“Relax, you’ll be eating my blade once again tomorrow evening. With that, I bid you adieu.”

You saluted him and let yourself fall backwards. He rolled his eyes, but looked over the edge to ease his worried heart more than anything. He watched as you gracefully fell into a dive and safely landed in the water, a feat that would injure tremendously anyone else who tried the same. Flashes of your white blouse caught his eye as you fixed the circlet around your head and swam to your boat. You looked up, giving him one last wave before beginning to row away.

Chenle waved back and watched as you sailed back into the distant fog towards the cove that even he had no idea the location of. Where the ship you captained waited for you. He sighed.

One day, he’d get out of his duties and sail away with you. His older brother would be king anyway.

© ggukkiedae

[venusscriptures]

part two of this post!

17+ !! Afab reader, oral (male receiving), creampie

It had been a couple of days since that night, the journey of being on the run taking away the privacy of a room and the time and energy to resume your nightly escapades.

Vash however, couldn’t sleep these nights without remembering how you had woken him up, and how good he felt that he thought that it was a dream, he simply couldn’t fall asleep!

It was affecting his performance, his exhaustion dulling his reflexes and spatial awareness. Meryl had taken notice to his state and eyed him, asking if he was alright. He replied with a sheepish smile and said he was, but if there was one this you knew, was that he lied like a fool getting caught when it came to his health.

After a pit stop in a town, Meryl had decided that they were to stay that night, seeing how the discomfort of the sand and vehicle was getting to them.

Meryl had once again booked the room, but you accompanied her this time, making sure that the rooms were in order. Unfortunately there were only two double rooms left, and you guys took what you could get.

Wolfwood, Meryl and Milly had already gone into their shared rooms and had begun to settle down for the night, but you had said you would take a small stroll outside, just to shake off your nerves.

Vash had watched your figure leave out the front door, just like how you left that night you gave him the sweetest wake up.

Blushing at the memory, he went up into the room, settling into his bed and facing away from Nicholas, who looked at him confused, but he shrugged it off and turned off the light, snoring nearly the moment his head hit the pillow.

After about an hour, Vash had heard the door next to their room open and close, signaling your arrival. He wondered what you had been doing out, and how he could get you to come sleep by his side.

You quietly laid down your gear down, sighing as you rolled your shoulders, grabbing your coat and sitting on the recliner, leaning back and taking off your boots. You had walked around the city, picking up bits and pieces of information about it. It seemed safe enough to stay for an extra night, that’s if Vash doesn’t attract any eyes.

Suddenly feeling parched, you got up to the door to grab a bottle of water from the vending machine you saw earlier downstairs. Opening it, you saw a distressed Vash standing there, his hair array and coat discarded, shocked at your figure before he smiled.

“Ah, did I wake you?”

You shook your head, a small smile as you walked closer to him, a blush slowly forming as you got closer to him, his eyes darting.

“No, I just returned and wanted to drink something, would you like to join me?”

You slid your hand against his waist, caressing it with your thumb. He looked to the side and shuddered, taking in a deep breath and nodding, still not looking at you. He was fidgeting, his ears red. He kind of looked cute this way.

You had booked another room for yourself, a single suddenly popping up after you had returned from your walk. The receptionist had given it to you and apologized for the delay, but you took the room key gratefully and went off to it. It was on the same floor as the others, but about 5-7 doors down.

After you told Vash, he nodded, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you can rest well now, [F/N]”

You raised your brows, smiling.

“Yet you’re not sleeping at all these days, shouldn’t you worry about yourself?”

“Ah…” He smiled sheepishly, scratching his nape in shame. He certainly couldn’t tell you the reason was because each time he closed his eyes, he had replayed you licking so gently at him.

“I’ll be okay, it’s not that bad-”

You cut him off, shaking your head and taking his arm, dragging him into your room, shutting the door and locking it behind you.

You turned around and pointed to the bed.

“Sleep. Rest, I’ll keep watch over you if you’re worried about unwanted ambushes.”

He shook his head, panic flashed across his face and a slight pang from the pits of his stomach spread all over his body, the familiar sweet scent hitting your nose.

“Oh, oh no I couldn’t, it’s your bed I don’t want to keep you up, I-Oh!”

You pulled him towards the bed, your eyes interlocked with his as you pushed him down, laying him back onto the mattress.

He gasped and brought his thighs together, gazing at you with a pleading look in his eyes, his eyebrows turned up. He felt himself throb between his legs, the sickly sweetness growing stronger than last time, making you heavy with lust.

“Vash..I want to continue what we did last time..I can’t bring myself to hold back..”

You pressed your lips against his, cupping his face in your hands and leaning over him, moving so that you straddled his hips, sighing into the kiss.

He gasped, grabbing at your pants and whimpering as he kissed back, opening his mouth for you while deepening the kiss, his moans escaping each time you slightly parted your lips.

You pulled back from it, amused as he chased the kiss. You pushed his chest back down and took off your shirt, leaving you in your bra. You slid down to in between his thighs, fondling them as he stared at your boobs, looking away shamefully before returning his eyes, biting his lip.

“Vash…I want to eat you out again..will you let me?” You whispered gently to him, your hands moving up to his sides, your hands caressing him all over.

He whined and nodded, arching his back slightly and moving his hips up so that you could slip off his pants. Having taken them off, your reaction was still the same as before. He was absolutely beautiful down here, and you could stare at it all day.

“I….thank..you..”

You looked up at him confused, and saw the blush on his face as his face was turned away from you. You had accidentally spoken your thoughts out to him.

Smiling, you leaned down to between his legs, sliding him down to in front of your face.

“Well, let me show you just how beautiful you are to me.”

You pressed a kiss on his slit, his mouth letting slip a gasp. You licked your lips and began to lick at him, closing your eyes and getting completely lost in his flavor, in his scent, in him.

He had lost count how many time he had came, his dicks long had emerged yet you let them curl around your fingers while you slurped at the vent they came from, the dual stimulation making him feel like he was high in the sky, as though he was amongst the birds in the clouds.

A particularly hard tug on your hair had you look up at him with lidded eyes, your mouth still working away at him.

He looked down at you, tears flowing down from his eyes as he sniffled, his body tensing up as he came again, a warbled moan coming out of his mouth.

You slurped up his fluids and crawled up to him, your mouth and chin dripping with his arousal. He whimpered, seeing you so delirious and messy because of him had made him more aroused. It was his scent that was coming from you, him that had you so excited, him that was under you, trembling in anticipation.

You licked off the slick around your mouth, kissing him deeply as you shifted back on top of his hips, taking off your pants and underwear, the appendages reaching up towards your warmth.

You sat above their reach, his hands holding onto your hips as his had twitched, wanting to plunge deeply into you.

You pulled away from the kiss and sat up, sliding back down to directly align yourself with him, looking at him as he watched his dicks reach up towards your hole, your wetness making it easy for them to slide around.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Vash?” You said with a sultry tone in your voice, taking his hands and raising them to fondle your breasts.

He groaned, his focus now on your tits, groping them and kneading them, obsessed with how soft and warm they felt in his hands.

“Please..I’ve been dreaming about you so much i couldn’t even sleep…I’d be so happy, I could die happy-Oh fuck”

You sunk down on him, his dicks twitching and squirming against your velvety walls, the warmth driving him insane, his moans and whimpers now silent as his lidded eyes stared up at the ceiling, his body appearing to be calm. However, inside you, he was going completely crazy, the dicks practically thrusting themselves in and out of you, the pulsing mimicking his heartbeat.

You proceeded to slide all the way down, laying down on his chest as you watched his face, amused by his reactions.

He gasped and left indents in your thighs as he gripped them tightly, finally breaking the silence and letting out a loud broken moan.

Not wanting to attract attention, you silenced him with a kiss, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out chopped moans, feeling you slide up and down his dicks. They were twirling around each other inside you, growing thicker as your hips oscillated on top of his, making you feel fuller by the second.

He whined into your lips and held the back of your head, kissing you deeper and pushing his hips up, the other arm wrapping around your waist as he started to thrust into you hurriedly, the pleasure making him impatient and unable to hold back anymore. He broke off the kiss and tucked his face in the crook of your neck, pairing each lewd gasp with a moan, his noises growing more frequent as he went faster.

His thrusts stuttered, then a final one harshly pressed into you, his dicks spasming as he came deep inside you, letting out a drawn out wail as you clenched down on him, his orgasm triggering yours suddenly. He held you tighter against him, a high pitched sob shaking him as your pussy gripped him tightly, his vision going white.

He awoke to the warm morning sun beaming down onto his face, greeting him like an old familiar friend. Feeling well-rested for the first time in a while, he grew aware to the warm mass laying on top of him, and his lack of clothing.

Remembering the events of the night before, he blushed, but kept watching your sleeping figure, your breathing calm and steady. It nearly lulled him back to sleep, but he kept watching your peaceful beauty, adoring how beautiful your skin looked in the morning sun. It looked as though your skin was glowing.

You started to shift, snuggling into him as the suns rays hit your eyes, waking you from your rest. Opening your eyes, you rubbed them and hid your face into his chest, making him lightly chuckle.

“Mornin’.”

You raised your head and smiled, pressing a small kiss on his lips.

“Mornin’ pretty.”

He could get used to this.

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 1/?

This is part of a series: Long Way From Home. Graves gets ahold of 141's translator and demands she give up information she knows about 141.

Graves still has Val in this continuation. This continuation includes the events of MW3 so 141 will find out Graves is alive and they will learn where Val has been this whole time ;) MW3 SPOILERS Thanks to @unicorngirly1 for talking ideas with me!

Taglist!

@bellgraves, @unicorngirly1, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl. If you'd like to be added and/or if I left anyone off, please let me know!

Triggers/Warnings: Mentions of torture, dubious consent, brainwashing, mentions of suicide. More will be added as the story develops.

-

“Un-fucking-believable,”

You were across the dark room, not visible to the camera, but Soap’s voice drew your attention and your head snapped in that general direction.

You’d been given orders by Shepherd and Graves: you can be in the room but you were not to move, not to make a sound and certainly not to approach the camera. 141 still thought you were dead, remember?

Consequences for approaching that camera? A return to a room similar to that cold, terrifying room where you’d spent your first week with Shadow Company being tortured for information that you eventually gave up. That was all you needed to hear. You in no way, under no circumstances, wanted to go back there so you’d do what you were told. Besides, you’d been more tired than usual, not feeling like yourself, like you were on the verge of getting sick, so it’s not like you even had the energy to put up with that. You wouldn’t be able to mentally handle it, either.

You’d make a third attempt on your life if you were returned to that room. Of that you were sure.

“Soap!” You heard Graves respond. “Ya miss me?” Graves laughed coldly. “Well technically you did, didn’t you?”

“Laswell, if you’re tracking this,” Ghost’s voice interrupted, “let’s call in an airstrike.”

“Ghost that is not nice,” Graves chided, almost as if he was speaking to a toddler. It made you wonder how he would be around kids.

“And Val?” Soap demanded.

“Now her ya did kill, Johnny,” Graves sneered. “Shame. I liked having her around.”

“Go fohck yerself. What’re you up to?” Soap’s voice snapped at Graves.

“I’m up to doing my fuckin’ job, kid. Maybe you should try it sometime,” Graves shot back.

“My fucking job is to kill the enemy. Guess what you are,” Soap spat back.

“Let’s keep this professional, boys,” Shepherd interjected. “Cap’n let me pain you the bigger picture. You need Makarov in a pine box. I’ve got the nails.”

The rest of the conversation was faded out because that name, Makarov…Makarov scared the shit out of you. Graves had told you that Vladimir Makarov liked petite, little, innocent-looking things and that like they’d done before with other male targets they might use you to help draw him in or distract him. You were Shadow Company’s femme fatale after all. You’d drawn in men before.

But the idea terrified you. Makarov was a different kind of monster. A psychopath. What was stopping Makarov from taking you like Graves took you? And Makarov you knew would not be nearly as ‘nice’ as Graves had been. Makarov would haul you to Russia and torture you himself. And he would get off on it. Unlike Graves Makarov wouldn’t hesitate to use rape as a weapon.

“Val,” Graves’s voice drew you back to the present.

“Graves,” you responded, shaking your head of the chilling thoughts that had occupied your mind only seconds before.

“We gotta meet 141,”

You sighed. Got teary eyed. What if they took you from him? So you said something. “They’re gonna take me from you,” you sniffled.

“We’re gonna have a fucking problem if they do,” Graves snapped. “We’re not moving forward until I get you back if that happens. They think you’re dead, Val. Remember that.”

You sighed again. “They better. I’ll raise hell ‘till they give me back.”

“I know it sucks,” Graves conceded. “But this is moving quick. We need Makarov. The quicker it’s done, they quicker we never see any of ‘em again.”

Makarov. That name. It gave you chills. You had the worst feeling about him.

Graves then gave a series of commands: wear both vests (we don’t know if they’ll try to kill you), wear your mask, wear your combat goggles, wear a helmet, wear a uniform. Do anything you can to hide your identity. Do not come within an arm’s length of them. You’re going to have a sidearm, your rifle, and a knife. And it all else fails? Run.

You followed orders and got dressed exactly how you were told to in the morning. You were exhausted. You hadn’t been sleeping well and your body ached.

-

It had been decided to meet in an abandoned warehouse. No electricity so it was easy to sweep for bugs. That meant no heat. It was raining and the dropping temperatures promised snow. It was miserable but at least all the layers you were wearing kept you warm.

You could feel 141’s eyes penetrating you.

You tried to tell yourself it was because out of a group of men you were by far the smallest one. The only female, obviously.

Price, Laswell, Shepherd, and Graves were in a room sealed off from the rest of you. Shadows were in that same room protecting Graves and Shepherd. Graves had wanted you in the same room as him but that risked Price recognizing you since the room was so small. The meeting would be quick, Graves promised. You only hoped it wouldn’t be drawn out.

That left you in a large room with Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. You stayed as far away from them as possible. You had your rifle hanging from your shoulder. You had your sidearm ready to go. The only problem was there was no damn way you could shoot any of them. You only prayed they’d stay across the room.

You didn’t like this. In fact you hated it. Why couldn’t another Shadow have stayed with you? Actually no. That Shadow might shoot at 141 and the last thing you wanted was to have them hurt.

Soap met your gaze. You had a soft spot for Soap. You two had been close. A little more than close but that was a story for another day.

“What’s your name, lass?” Soap called out. “Didn’ know he had female Shadows.”

You didn’t answer. You were scared your voice would give you away. You just pointed at your tag: P-80.

“I can’t read that,” Soap replied. “You can’t talk or sometin?”

You shook your head no. Duh. Of course you could talk. You just chose not to. Your voice was a lot softer than any of these men’s. It stood out. And they’d recognize it for sure.

“Your mannerisms remind me o’ someone I was close to,” Soap added. “Real pretty lass. Had a lotta fun wit her. But smart as ‘ell. Dangerous, too.”

“That you, Val?” Ghost asked.

“L.t.,” Soap whined. “I was gettin’ there.”

“I think it is,” Gaz added.

You shook you head no again. Tears pricked your eyes. This was getting to be too much. You didn’t care that you’d been told to stay out of that briefing room. You wanted to be in the same room as Graves.

“I know that’s you, Val,” That person, Ghost, calling your name was like someone lighting a fire under your ass. Graves had conditioned you to RUN from them if he wasn’t close by. You shook your head before taking off running, following Grave’s orders.

You were so frazzled that a flight of stairs presented too much of a challenge for you and you tripped, hitting the landing hard and slamming into the wall sideways, your head hitting the wall with force. You had a helmet on thank God but the hit still rattled you. Voices were scrambled and everything got blurry for a few seconds. You were about to get up and keep running when someone grabbed you by your vest and dragged you back up the flight of stairs you’d just tripped over. You fought not to scream to be let go.

Ghost had grabbed you. You knew because he was the roughest one out of the group. Only because he was incredibly protective of his men. After dragging you back up the flight of stairs he released you onto the concrete landing.

You tried to get back up. You were shoved down.

“On your knees,” Ghost demanded. Rifle raised.

“Ghost,” Soap started. “Don’t—”

“I’ve got this, Johnny,” Ghost retorted.

You sighed and dropped to your knees with hands held out.

“Helmet,” Ghost demanded.

You unclasped your helmet and took it off.

“The goggles and the mask,” came the next command.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself.

You complied and took both off, dropping them to the ground next to you.

“Hoooly shit,”

You recognized it as Soap’s voice.

You shook the bangs from your eyes and glanced up.

Gaz was not far behind and approached. And you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t. You decided long ago you would never go back to them. They’d either kill you or send you to a military prison for the rest of your life.

Worst of all, Graves had said, you’d never see him again. You knew for a damn fact you couldn’t handle being separated from Graves.

So you pulled your sidearm and put it against your head.

The effect was instant.

141 backed off. Ghost dropped his rifle, leaving it to hang off his shoulder.

Immediately.

“Back off,” you stood up slowly.

They were speechless.

“What happened to you?” Gaz asked, eyeing you with stunned, wide eyes.

“Nothing,” You responded.

“Val, we’re not leaving,” Soap stated simply, his hands in front of him to show he was not reaching for a weapon. “Put the gun down, Jesus Christ.”

You didn’t respond. You lowered the gun from your head. Little did they know you’d rather die than be separated from Graves. In your panic you didn’t notice Soap was no longer in front of you. You raised the gun in their direction.

Yet not one of them reached for their weapon. You wondered if it was because despite how much you had changed they could see it in your eyes that you couldn’t shoot any of them.

“Let me go,” you warned, taking small steps backwards. “I’ll call him and they’ll come running.” Your mind flashed to that first night in Las Almas when Graves had ordered you to call out to 141. You being your stupid self had refused. Now you were actually threatening to scream to get Graves’s attention.

Then.

Your worst nightmare.

Someone grabbed you from behind. He placed a heavy, calloused hand over your mouth preventing you from screaming, from calling out to Graves. His other hand gripped your right wrist on such a way that you dropped your weapon. Your gun dropped to the ground. Soap expertly kicked it away from you. You were then flat on the floor on your stomach, the sudden movement aggravating the ribs that had been broken several times over now. Your rifle was taken. Your knife was taken. You were about to say, “Fuck you, let me go.” But duct tape replaced the hand that had been on your mouth.

They were treating you exactly like Graves warned you they would. You screamed into the tape because what else could you do? You were flipped onto your back and you immediately starting swinging fists, kicking, trying to scratch, anything to get them away.

Soap clearly was overwhelmed because he just stared in horror and how hard you were fighting. For what? To go back to Graves? To go back to the man who had inflicted that cut on your face that had scarred?

“Thas’ enough ‘o that,” Ghost said lowly. You’d forgotten how big he was because when he stood over you, he terrified you. He looked like the grim reaper. Zipties went around your wrists after your arms were pulled in front of you. But not before you put up a hell of a fight. You tried to scratch but only got Ghost’s Kevlar and uniform. Zipties brought back bad memories.

“You swing at anyone again,” Graves knelt in front of you while a Shadow ziptied your hands in front of you. You were lying on the floor, beat halfway to unconsciousness by said Shadow. “I’m leaving you in those with a broken arm,”

“Fuck you, sadist,” you mumbled as you lost consciousness.

-

Price, Graves, Shepherd, and Laswell were still in that small room. Talking about what you had no idea. You tried to use your hands ziptied in front of you to break the window of the SUV they were dragging you to.

You struggled, tried to be dead weight. Your worst fear was coming true. You were being taken from Graves. And you couldn’t scream because they’d taped your mouth shut.

But then you got an idea. You got into that SUV willingly because you had a plan. They’d removed the tape from your mouth provided you promised them you wouldn’t scream. The skin on your face was still red, though. Just wait until Graves finds out what they did to you.

-

I feel like this isn't as good as Long Way From Home. :( Idk why! But please let me know what you think! If you have ideas, message me! I'm thinking of opening an ask box :D I wanted to post a longer chapter but character limits got me!

[animatorweirdo]

From beyond death

In life, you had saved him from the dragon, and now in death, you had done the same.

Warnings: heavy subjects, angst, mentions of a death of a friend, not getting along with a sibling, dying, sad, bleeding, dreaming, torture, getting shot with arrows, and surviving a river.

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

It started out as a little visit. There was a knock at the doorway to the forge, and you were there, popping your head around the corner. 

“Celebrimbor. I’m sorry to disturb you, but can I hide here for a while? Lady Finduilas is trying to encourage me to attend another feast, but I am not really feeling it today,” you asked. 

“Of course. Help yourself out,” Celebrimbor chuckled as you scuttered in after getting a confirmation, making yourself a spot at a nearby table covered with metals and stones. Celebrimbor glanced in amusement while trying to focus on his current project.  

You always had a less liking for social gatherings, maybe because you were more used to wandering outside, keeping your eyes out for dangers that could threaten the safety of Nargothrond. A lone wolf, his kin called you. Galadwen is what you called yourself, but Celebrimbor already knew your real name. 

“You know, you could always tell Gwindor and Princess Finduilas that you do not wish to attend the feast,” Celebrimbor stated as he continued his current project. “I usually avoid attending social events, but I didn’t want to appear rude this time,” you said as you made yourself busy, handling a small bunch of metal wires in your hands. 

Celebrimbor shook his head with a smile. “My friend, you won’t ever get rid of the fear of people if you don’t try to face them more often,” he said. 

“I prefer a solitary life. And besides, I’ve never been one for social life. I remember once attending a feast and getting angry with this one elven lord who insulted my people,” you explained.

“Oh yeah… what happened then?” Celebrimbor questioned since you usually didn’t tell a lot of your past.

“I purposely dumbed cake on him to get his tunic dirty. I don’t think he ever forgave me for that, and honestly, I still don’t feel bad about it. He was unpleasant even on regular days,” you said, making him grin at the thought while you were deep in your own project. 

You had a hard time opening up, so whenever Celebrimbor saw a chance to ask questions, he took it to learn more about you. 

He wanted to understand why you would name yourself a sorrowful maiden. He knew something terrible had happened, and you were a lonely soul, so he took the initiative to be your friend. Something his prideful father would had most likely shamed him for, and he did not regret it as you two had grown a close friendship. There was something that pulled him toward you, and one day– you trusted him enough to give him your real name and your past as one of the children of Hurin. 

When he learned about the tragic death of your close friend and the fallout between you and your brother, many things about you started to make sense, and it nearly broke his heart. He did not think you deserved to be alone for the things that happened. You even set yourself outside, thinking it would protect his people if you did not linger inside and infect the kingdom with the curse of your house. It resulted in your self-destructive habits as you were haunted by what happened, and Celebrimbor was glad he was able to talk you out of them and live more healthily. 

It was clear he had a lot of effect on you as you even started coming inside and visiting his forge much more to talk to him. His kin saw you and him as a peculiar pair, but since it helped you to stop most of your destructive habits and smile more, Celebrimbor paid no mind. He deeply cared for you, so it was worth it. 

You two talked in the forge. You shared certain things that happened in the feast, and Celebrimbor replied sometimes with an amused chuckle or another question to keep the conversation flowing. You then did something peculiar he would never forget. 

“Hey, Celebrimbor. Could you come here for a moment?” you asked. 

Curious, Celebrimbor left his current project and walked over to you. You then lifted one of his hands and slid a ring made from metal wires into his finger. Celebrimbor was surprised by the sudden gesture, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the new ring in his hand. You had somehow folded the metal wires into a single ring, and in the center, you had twisted ends together and folded them into a shape that resembled a spiky flower with roots wrapped around the ring. 

Celebrimbor felt charmed and impressed as you had made the ring with your bare hands. 

“It’s lovely. What is it?” Celebrimbor looked at you. 

“A spike ring,” you answered. 

“Not the fanciest name, but in my birth home, we used to make them to give our friends, families, and those dear to us whenever they leave as lucky charms, wishing them safe return and protection from evil,” you explained, “It’s even said if someone who wishes you harm touches the ring, the spikes will make them bleed, but I don’t know if that’s true. The spikes are not sharp enough to cause bleeding unless you push hard enough,” 

“I…” you hesitated. “It’s just suddenly came to mind. I’m sorry if that was too weird for you,” you shook your hands with an awkward look. 

Celebrimbor couldn’t help but smile. “Not at all. I appreciate the little gift. Thank you, (Name),” he said, and you smiled in return, happy to see him accept your little gift. 

It was supposed to be only a friendly gesture, but the more time he spent with you, the more you opened up to him. To his worry, he found himself in a similar predicament as Luthien. He had fallen in love with you. 

His father would have scorned him if he knew his son had fallen for a mortal, not that his opinion would have mattered. However, Celebrimbor should have controlled himself and avoided such an outcome since there is no way for an eldar and an edain to be together without tragedy. He doubted he could do the same as Luthien and give up his immortality to be with you. 

But, he couldn't bring himself to break your heart either. The very idea made him feel resentful toward himself. You would understand his view if he told you, but at the very same time, he wants to bring you that kind of happiness. 

King Felagund himself once thought an eldar and an edain could not be together, but then he changed as he willingly helped a mortal man who sought to marry the daughter of Thingol. If someone like him could change his mind, then maybe it's not so terrible. 

Celebrimbor never guessed he would feel so much more for you. He would have been happy just to be your friend and see you live a happy long life as you should. But now he had these feelings bothering him.

He observed you as you two went on with your usual outings and activities. He would visit you outside and listen as you talked and watched the stars on your favorite hill and he would sometimes watch as you visited his forge and started crafting something else with your hands at the table where he started gathering materials for you: to see if you would come up with something new. 

You looked so happy, but he did not see any signs that you might share the same feelings for him as he did for you. It was more favorable since it made it easy to control his feelings and accept that you only saw him as your friend. 

He was alright with that and made a promise to himself that he would stay and see you live a good life as your friend. 

But, oh, how he had underestimated the power of your family’s curse as one day. It had come in the form of your older brother, Turin. 

He first believed it would be a happy reunion since you had mentioned that your brother went missing after an incident, but you were cautious for some reason. You did try to reconnect with Turin, but something felt amiss, and he felt more like a stranger to you than the brother you grew up within the safety of Doriath. 

You became cautious when Turin started gaining influence in Nargothrond. At first, you were all right with whatever he was doing, but then you started expressing concern when he began sharing his ideas with the elves of Nargothrond.  

Celebrimbor was there to support you, especially when you and Turin only seemed to grow more distant and unable to see eye to eye. Turin convinced Orodreth to build a bridge to Nargothrond’s main entrance, which in your mind was a terrible idea, and when Gwindor began to get scorned by the council for his past as Morgoth’s thrall, your distance from him only grew. 

You came to a realization that Turin was planning to reattempt to have revenge against Morgoth for your family’s suffering, which only created a deeper drift between you as you didn’t think going to war was the best option for your home. 

While Turin believed in a direct approach toward the enemy, you believed hiding in secrecy was Nargothrond's best defense. You two only got into an argument when you reminded him what happened last time when he tried to build an army to oppose Morgoth. You were there to support him back then, and it had cost the life of your best friend. 

Celebrimbor tried to be the mediator since the arguments between you and your brother were sometimes intense, but when Turin insulted him for his family’s actions as kinslayers, you lost your patience and punched your brother in the face. Celebrimbor was quick to take you away before things escalated, and you would try to fight your brother. You had incredible patience, but when it came to defending him or Gwindor, you would often go head-first and fight the offender. 

But this time. You were truly upset with your brother, so he had to calm you down. You vented your frustration about the matter, and Celebrimbor peacefully calmed you till you spoke more softly and expressed your concerns about how Turin was not listening to reason. 

Celebrimbor wanted things between you to be peaceful since you both were respected by his people, but when he saw Turin’s growing arrogance as his influence over the kingdom grew and how Turin was slightly too certain things would go his way. It reminded him too much about his father and uncle before things went wrong with them, so Celebrimbor couldn’t help but side with you. 

When Turin began encouraging the elves to go to war with Morgoth, you opposed it, but your voice went unheard as Turin’s speech to defeat Morgoth convinced King Orodreth and the council, and they began making preparations since Glaurung was sighted approaching from the north. You did not believe Turin and the elves could defeat the great dragon in direct combat. There were too many possible outcomes, and Turin did not have a plan if things went wrong. 

Celebrimbor felt awful to see you in distress, but when you told him it was up to you two to come up with a plan to keep the people of Nargothrond safe if your brother failed in his assault, he was ready to help.

You were familiar with Nargothrond's many caverns, and you knew some of them led outside. In the worst-case scenario, you could use the path to take Nargothrond’s people outside the city and to safety. 

Celebrimbor supported the idea and since he had some people who decided to stay with him rather than leave with his father and uncle when they were banished. You two managed to make quick work clearing out the secret path till the day you dreaded finally arrived. 

To your sorrow, Gwindor had decided to join the battle with Turin and King Orodreth. You begged him to stay as you knew he would die if he went with your brother’s plan. Unfortunately, Gwindor loved your brother as much as he loved you, even if your brother caused him trouble and the end of his relationship with Finduilas. Gwindor only looked at you sorrowfully and asked you to keep Finduilas safe if things went as you predicted. 

At that moment when you watched him ride away with your brother and the rest of the army as they left to confront the dragon, you hated your brother more than anyone. Celebrimbor only knew to hold you close as the tears fell from your eyes. He wanted to give you time to collect yourself, but since time was against you, he had to encourage you to get ready. You wiped your tears, controlling yourself, and you two started gathering the people for the worst. 

When you and Celebrimbor prepared for the possible assault on Nargothrond, for a moment, you had false hope that Turin’s plan might have worked and you were being overly cautious, but when you felt the earth beneath you crumble with something that sounded like a heavy earthquake and heard the horns of the orcs instead of the elven, you knew that your prediction of the battle had come true. 

However, Glaurung and his army of orcs had come quicker than you expected, and the doors were not strong enough to withstand the dragon’s power, so you and Celebrimbor were left defending Nargothrond’s people as they escaped through the secret path. You two tried to help as many as you could, but unfortunately, most of Nargothrond’s people were either killed or taken by the orcs. 

Glaurung then turned his gaze upon you, making you freeze in fear as you looked into those golden eyes once more. He looked surprised to see you but then laughed in mockery as he began taunting you, telling how your brother fled from the battle and made this chaos possible. You were utterly frozen as his voice echoed in your ears, your hands began to shake around your blades, and your body refused your commands to move. 

When Celebrimbor saw your state, he tried to run to you and take you away from the dragon, but then Glaurung struck him with his claws, making him fly into a wall and bleed from his now-open wound, the claws of the dragon having gone through his armor. The dragon laughed at his futile attempt and then opened his maws, ready to devour Feanor’s grandson. 

Celebrimbor prepared to face death, but then you sprung into action, having freed yourself from the dragon’s gaze. You plunged your blade into the dragon’s eye, making him pull back with a pained scream. You held on to the handle of your blade, pulling yourself over the dragon’s head and stabbing its eyes with fury. 

The dragon trashed and shook its head, trying to throw you off. Celebrimbor felt a speck of admiration for your courage and fear when he saw the dragon sprinting outside, taking you to the bridge. He followed and watched as Glaurung began breathing fire toward everything, destroying his forces, who scattered to avoid his blinded rage. You held on to your dear life as you couldn’t let go, or you would end up being tossed off the bridge. 

Glaurung’s trashing and firing began damaging the bridge’s structure. The well-built bridge began to collapse under the weight. Celebrimbor then watched in horror as you fell along into the river beneath with the dragon. 

“(Name)!” Celebrimbor screamed. 

You looked back at him one last time before the mist took you from his sight, and all he could hear was a loud crash and the one final scream of the dragon before it became silent. 

The assault was halted as the orcs could no longer cross the river to the city. There were some orcs inside, but enough for his people to handle. Nargothrond's people were safe to leave through the secret path. 

Celebrimbor heard someone approaching him and saw it was your brother. Turin asked what had happened since he did not expect the bridge to be destroyed, and Glaurung’s attack halted, but Celebrimbor did not care to answer. He left the bridge and began ascending into the river, where you had fallen. 

At the bottom of the bridge, Glaurung’s body had blocked the flow of the river, and the stones from the bridge were scattered around the riverbank. Celebrimbor found you lying beside the dead beast, blood flowing down from your body with the river, unmoving.

“(Name)!” he cradled you in his arms, finding several wounds, most likely punctured by the several rocks during your fall, and you hissed when he touched certain spots, no doubt having suffered broken bones. 

You looked at him, pale and shivering from the cold. You mustered the strength to glance at the ring you made for him on his finger before looking at him. 

“You’re not hurt, are you? Please tell me you’re not hurt?” you asked with a shivering tone. 

Celebrimbor would have shaken his head if you weren’t so injured. Even in your most vulnerable state, you cared more about him than yourself. But he could not deny answering when he saw your nearly desperate pleading eyes. 

“I’m alright. I’m not hurt anywhere else,” Celebrimbor said as he had managed to stop the bleeding from his wound moments ago. He inspected your wounds. He was struck with festering sorrow. You would not live long enough to receive help. 

You smiled even when blood was trailing down from your lips. “I’m glad…” you uttered, nearly closing your eyes. “Please stay with me…” Celebrimbor held you close, starting to shed tears. He knew you would not survive but couldn’t help but hold on to that tingle of hope. 

“I’m sorry… I want to… but I’m afraid I’m too broken to be healed even by elven magic,” you weakly said. “I’m happy, though…” you said, holding his hand where the ring you made for him still lay. “I didn’t screw up this time… and the beast of my nightmares is finally dead,” you said, glancing toward the dead dragon. 

“Please go… it’s not safe here,” you said, lying your head against his chest. Celebrimbor held you, unable to answer. “And leave you alone… dream on,” he uttered, making you chuckle. “Thank you…” your voice fell quiet as you enjoyed the warmth. 

“(I love you, my bravest),” Celebrimbor uttered the words he had kept to himself for so long. 

“(I love you too, my brightest star)” you uttered back before Celebrimbor heard your last breath, and your hand fell cold in his hand. 

The pain in his chest was intense. He lets his once proud self weep as he holds on to your now cold body. He did not know why he sometimes forgot you could speak his language fluently, but now learning that you had loved him in return all this time only made the pain worse. 

He did not even hear the voice of Turin or some of his people who had come to fetch him and witness your death. He nearly did not want to. 

His people had convinced him to come with them, but he could not bring himself to leave you alone in the river, so he carried you to your favorite hill where you liked to gaze at the world around you. There, Celebrimbor laid you to rest. 

His heart was left barren after your death. The regret of not telling his feelings for you sooner haunted him. 

He needed his people to guide him as he was still numb by your loss. Turin was grieved by your death even if he didn’t show it. He left to find Finduilas, who was taken by the orcs with other prisoners who didn’t manage to escape, and that was the last of him. 

Celebrimbor knew he shouldn't blame your brother, but since you knew the outcome and your brother convinced his people to build the bridge and face the enemy directly, he couldn’t help but feel resentment toward him. If he had listened, then maybe Nargothrond wouldn’t have fallen, and you would still be alive. 

Your death caused him immense sorrow. Each day he wondered what he could have done to change the outcome, and it felt like he was falling deeper and deeper into the dark depths that tempted him to let go and perhaps in certain hopes to join you in death, but your ring gave him strength to continue and live for the remaining people who had come to see him as their leader. And certain times, he would dream of you, and you would assure him, which gave him strength. 

The first age passed swiftly, and soon he had become the lord of Eregion and the last surviving member of his house. He never imagined himself as a leader after his father and the rest of his relatives, but he had achieved that. He still missed how you would suddenly pop into the forges to hide from attending feasts and simply talk to him. The forges never felt more empty to him before. He even made a spot for you where you would start doing one of your handcrafts even if it always remained empty. 

He protected the spike ring so it wouldn’t snap or get destroyed. And when he would notice a wire lose, he would try everything in his power to repair it even going as far as trying to imbue magic to make it durable, but he was always afraid of breaking it. It was his last memory of you.  

When Annatar arrived in his city, his friendship and guidance in forging the rings of power had helped Celebrimbor out of the sadness a little. He still thought of you but sometimes felt tired, especially when others began warning him about his new friend, which he did not understand. 

However, as time passed, the anniversary of your death arrived. It was one of those times when he would light one of your favorite scented candles and look into the starry sky. It was a moment where he wished to be alone and think in peace. However, Annatar had come to him and disturbed his peace. It was perhaps one of the only times he was not pleased with his friend’s inquiry and presence, but he remained polite. 

The two talked, Annatar curiously asking about his tradition of lighting up the candle and looking at the stars. Celebrimbor spoke about you and how you two used to do it together when you were still alive. He talked about you fondly while thinking of the memories you shared while keeping most private, not wanting to overshare. 

He shared how you died protecting him from Glaurung, and for a moment, he felt a change in his friend’s tone. It was subtle but not unnoticeable. 

Annatar spoke sympathetically and proceeded to touch his hand, only to pull back with a hiss. Celebrimbor was startled when he saw his friend bleeding from his finger, but when he mentioned that he poked it on the ring on his finger. Celebrimbor became cautious, remembering what you had once said about the ring — about how the ring would make those who wish him harm bleed upon touch. The ring was not sharp enough to cause wounds, yet it had made Annatar bleed. 

He remained worried till Annatar assured him it was just a wound. He wondered why he would keep such a sharp ring, and Celebrimbor told him off while finally starting to believe that his friend might not be who he claimed to be. 

Celebrimbor took heed of the warnings he had once received from Galadriel and Gil-galad and began observing Annatar, who still seemed like usual. Celebrimbor tried to figure out what was wrong, but his friend either had a convincing act or maybe he was overthinking it. The only suspicious thing he could find was that his friend would often leave for trips and not tell where he would go these times. 

He nearly believed he was simply overthinking it, but he couldn’t bring himself to ignore it either. Your ring making Annatar bleed felt like a warning. 

He finally got his answer when Annatar revealed himself as Sauron and destroyed his city. He was taken captive, and Sauron tortured him, trying to make him reveal the location of the three elven rings he had made in secret. Out of anger and pride, he refused, and each time his torture only got worse. 

His only comfort was your ring. They couldn’t remove your ring from his hand. Each time they would try, the ring would make their hands bleed, and they would pull back in pain. It gave Celebrimbor certain joy since it felt like you were still protecting him, but he could not help but dread they might take his hand next. 

When his exhaustion took a toll on him, he dreamed of you. You suddenly appeared to him in his cell. He did not first figure out that it was a dream, so he was scared and worried Sauron would capture you. You stubbornly refused and helped him out of his binds, taking him out of the dungeons. You lead him through the rocky maze and to a flowing river. You told him it was his way out, and the dream ended, making him realize what he had seen. 

He did not first comprehend the meaning of his dream till he saw a chance to escape. He escaped his binds and took down the guards before making it through a familiar maze and to the river he saw in his dream.  

He did not know what to do next as the dream had ended. He tried to figure out how the river was going to be his escape till he turned around and felt an arrow through his shoulder. Sauron stood with his orcs. Sauron expressed how disappointed he was before signaling his orcs to shoot him down. 

Celebrimbor felt the second arrow pierce him, and the third one was the final that sent him falling into the river. In his last moments, Celebrimbor watched as your ring glowed and then broke, making him watch in horror as he was then finally taken by the river. 

Yet death was not what he found in the river. 

Struggling to pull himself out of the water, Celebrimbor groaned as he crawled out of the river, having been carried miles away from Sauron and his forces. Exhausted, he then flopped down on his back on the rocky beach. 

He stared at the sky, wondering how he had survived. The arrows had left his bleeding wounds in the river, but they were not fatal enough. He could even survive them once he found help. 

He then turned his head toward his hand, where your broken ring lay. The twists had been untangled, making it look like a tangled thick wire. He held onto it tight, afraid to lose it. He broke down in tears, unable to hold down his sorrow. 

“Oh, my love… even in death, you had protected me,” he uttered as he held the broken ring close to his heart. 

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 8

Summary: Some mysteries are revealed. Mentions of past abuse to Geralt and Naurel.

The Wolf and the Flame

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to 

Words: 2,274

Naurel sat on the small bed in the healing wing curled against Geralt’s side as he leaned against the headboard beside her. Jaskier had been treated with the herbs that she helped grow and Nennenke cleared the healing wing. It was now just the priestess, Geralt, Jaskier who was still asleep and her.

Nenneke looked at the redhead with expectant eyes but when she didn’t speak she pressed on. “How long have you known?”

“I..” how could she explain any of this? She didn’t know the answers herself so how could she tell them what they wanted to hear. Would Geralt leave her because she was a freak? Taking a moment to gather her courage she chose her words carefully. “I have known that my blood was different since I was a child. I got punished for breaking a dish and the master left me laying on the ground outside. When I stood up the grass was green where my blood had been. I thought it was just a trick of the eye, to be honest, but the more it happened the more I realized that I was,” she paused searching for the right word. “Evil?” It was the only word she could think of.

“Evil?” Geralt growled in question.

She nodded. “The master realized it was happening one day when he punished me for spilling his ale. He was a bit heavy-handed with the belt and my back had already been split from another lashing a few days earlier so the skin broke easier. I bled a lot that day and it caused some wildflowers to bloom. He kept calling me cursed and saying I was a child of the black sun so they took me to Queen Calanthe. Her healer did all sorts of tests on me,” she closed her eyes against the memories. “He told her I was too young to be a child of the black sun but then they started whispering and I couldn’t hear what they said. I know her eyes got really big and they kept looking over at me.” She hid her face against Geralt’s muscled arm as shame burned her skin. “After that, I was given to a new master and the healer sent a medication that they had to give me daily. Said it would stop the evil from growing in me. All my punishments after that were done inside and if I changed masters the queen chose who got me.”

Geralt looked over at Nenneke a moment before gently lifting Naurel’s chin so that she was looking at him. “If you had any evil in you my medallion would react to you, more than that I would feel it.”

She wanted to believe him but it didn’t make sense. “Maybe the medication hides it? The evil is still in my blood so it has to be true. You saw what it can do.”

“That is not an evil gift my child,” Nenneke shook her head. “That is a blessing from Melitele. Your blood is different but not all things that a different are bad. What’s happening with you,” she looked at Geralt then back to Naurel. “There is a legend as old as the convergence itself about beings that were sent here to protect those that protect the world from evil. They worked in unison with the first witchers boosting their strengths and mutations making them nearly unbeatable but it took its toll on their bodies. The first witchers were almost feral and only cared about the kill so they wouldn’t give their counterparts time to heal before using them again and they died out. Legend says that in a time of great need that Melitele would send them again.”

“Nephilim?” Geralt gasped. He’d heard the stories they grew up with them but he never believed. The first witchers were as brutal as the beasts they killed and wreaked havoc everywhere they went. They raped women, killed men for fun, and did whatever they wanted. Through the years they started to become tamer but even in Vesimer’s generation some of them were still brutal.” He remembered the tortures he and his fellow young witchers endured at their hands. Most of the things they did to the young boys were inhumane, to say the least, but they were mutants and no one cared what happened to them.

“It seems fate has spoken my dear witcher,” the priestess nodded. “Your specialness among the witchers, Ciri’s gifts, and now Naurel. You are all meant to be together, you’re a part of something big.”

“But if that were true then why wouldn’t I be able to do more? Why wouldn’t I be stronger?” Naurel didn’t believe it. There was no way she could be part angel. “I’m just a slave,” she insisted.

“The medication that the healer kept you on was to subdue your powers girl. Calanthe wanted it to be hidden just like she hid her own bloodline and kept Ciri in the dark. If people knew of your powers then they would begin to question things and everything she fought so long to hide would have come to light. Her family secrets would have been revealed and then she would have had to admit that she’d lied all those years. People would have come for Pavetta and if Ciri had even been born and they would have come for her too.”

Geralt hummed at her line of thinking knowing that she was probably right but what did it all mean. “We need to find out all the lore on this we can and find out how this ‘medication’ has affected Naurel long term.”

“I have a feeling that I know the answer to that,” Nenneke told him. “The blood sample Triss brought to me when Naurel first came to be with you, the blood had differences but the blood I took when she arrived here a few days ago? It is teeming with particles that are unlike any I have ever seen in other blood. The longer she goes without the medication the stronger she is going to get. I believe that the magic that we all feel on her is a binding spell as well to inhibit her from growing stronger and coming into her full powers.”

“Can you remove the magic?” Geralt asked.

“No,” Nenneke shook her head. “I have tried and I can’t but something tells me that Naurel will be able to break the magic’s hold herself when she is strong enough.” She paced in front of the bed for a moment, thinking. “There is much to learn still. As soon as Naurel is healed then you can start in my library but you know where you need to go for this sort of information. You are about the only one she will even see anymore.

Geralt nodded. They would indeed need to take a trip to see Finn. “We will go as soon as they are well enough to travel. I’m not going to leave Jaskier unprotected again either,” he looked over at his friend.

“I think some time spent at Kaer Morhen would do you all good before you go see Finn. Wait out the winter in the keep like witchers always do.”

“But is it safe to wait?” he argued.

“Safer than people seeing a witcher traveling with companions during the winter.”

He couldn’t argue that logic. It was true that most beasts hibernated in the cold so witchers used that time to heal and gather their energy until spring. It would be good to stay in one place for a while anyway. To just be able to spend some time together. “You know best my friend.”

“And it’s about time you admitted it,” she teased then left them.

Naurel was still trying to process everything that she’d heard. How was any of this even possible? Yeah, sure, she knew Geralt was special and even Ciri, but herself? Nope. No way. Not a chance. The only powerful part of her was that she’d learn to take a punch. How to survive on little to nothing and how to become invisible in a room full of people. She was lost in thought when she felt Geralt’s hand on her cheek. “Huh?”

“Are you alright?” he frowned. “I know that’s a lot to take in.”

“Are you alright?” she asked. “The girl you have feelings for is a freak whose blood can make plants grow and is some freakish offspring of an angel and a human who may or may not have great power and may or may not cause or help whatever great war is about to happen and oh, by the way, if she can’t get her shit together then you may be totally screwed because she’s supposed to be the one to help keep you safe but likely someone fucked up that bit because I mean, hello, it’s me” she gestured to herself, “and I always screw everything up and destroy everything I touch!” She was breathless when she finished because she’d said all that in one breath.

“You are not a freak.”

She sat up straighter and stared at him. “That’s all you got after all of that is that I’m not a freak?”

He chuckled and shrugged, “Destiny seemed to have gotten this one right. If you are so unsure of yourself then it’s a good thing I’m a witcher. You won’t hurt me while you are learning to deal with your powers and how to use them.”

She shook her head, “You are…” she couldn’t think of a word that would work to describe him.

“Wonderful? Amazing? Perfect?”

The smirk on his face had her fighting not to laugh. “Impossible.”

“Humm,” he leaned in and kissed her. Soft and gentle at first but soon his tongue was pressing against the seam of her petal-soft lips and he was pleasantly surprised when they parted allowing him access. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her so that she was half laying on top of him with one hand on her back and the other cupping the back of her head. Her small hand rested on his chest over his heart and he wanted nothing more than to flip her over and ravish her right there. He knew she still needed to heal before that could happen so he settled for lazily kissing and exploring what he could over her night gown.

Naurel finally pulled away from Geralt’s lips for no other reason than that she needed to breathe. Her eyes were glazed and her body tingled as she looked into his golden eyes longingly. His lips were red and kiss swollen and she knew hers must look the same and it left her feeling a bit debauched. It was a feeling she found she liked quite a bit but only because it was him that made her feel that way. She felt a rather large bulge pressed against her hip where her thigh rested between his and she pressed down ever so softly dragging across the bulge a bit. The soft gasp and almost unnoticeable buck of his hips was something she wanted to explore more. “Why witcher I think you’ve got a monster of your own there that needs to be tamed.”

“Be careful,” he smiled. “He’s been waiting to be set free for a long time now. He might not want to be put back in his confines once he’s out,” he teased her.

“He just needs lots of pets and kisses,” she smirked and pressed against him again causing his hips to buck. “And maybe a nice, warm, wet place to hide in for a bit.”

He growled low and deep as one big hand moved down to cup her ass under the sheet and he pressed their lips together in a kiss.

“I’m gonna puke,” a voice rasped from beside them.

“Jaskier?” They both sat up and moved to him. “How are you feeling?” Naurel asked as she took his hand.

“Not nearly as well as Geralt apparently,” he teased.

Geralt held a cup of water to his lips so he could wet his mouth then set it aside. “I'm so glad to see you awake,” he gripped Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Where are we?” he looked around trying to figure out exactly what had happened. “I remember seeing you and dwarves and catching a head,” he frowned.

“He rescued us and the dwarves brought us to the Temple of Nenneke,” Naurel explained. “We’ve been here nearly five days.”

“Five days?” He couldn’t believe he’d been asleep that long. “Yennefer,” he gasped trying to set up.

Geralt carefully pushed him back down. “She’s gone but harmless. Her magic has left her. She made a deal with the deathless mother but it backfired on her.”

“No, she got screwed over,” Jaskier said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Naurel’s hand that was holding his own.

Naurel nodded, “The fire fucker who gave her the potions to open a portal told her that he was working with Voleth Meir. He was the one who wanted Ciri and knew at the very least if he had us that you would come looking. He told Yennefer that you would have Ciri with you because after her betrayal you wouldn’t trust anyone else with her. “

Geralt shook his head. “It’s a good thing he was wrong then. I trust my brothers. Eskel, Coen, and Lambert are on Ciri watch.”

“Poor witchers,” Jaskier teased and laughed, causing a coughing fit.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

@warriormirkwood

@mollymal

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

THEME #1: FLUFF - SHURIRI WEEK

PROMPTS: Sleeping Together, "Don't Go"

short fluffy "shuribble" (shuriri themed drabble w/ an extendo clip - 500 words max), dialogue heavy. sfw!

taglist: @shuririweek@lppriceisright@Mysticalmarss@darkangelchronicles@princessmel-1995@xenaizogie@nanii2x@pinkroses98@@mybonafidefeelings@gr00vyminibus@zeezeecave@just4shyt3z@s0lam33y

if you wanna join taglist, lmk! link in my masterpost!

purple heart divider by @firefly-graphics

Shuri squinted as harsh rays of Cambridge morning light shone through the several intentionally uncovered square windows facing the small bed. Riri swore she did that so she would be forced to get up early to work before classes but Shuri was nearly convinced it had something to do with the time difference so often between them but she was accustomed by now to letting Riri lie a little bit to protect her pride. She didn't quite see the need, given that Shuri thought the world of her, especially her messiness.

Shuri's cat like abilities came in handy for moments like this, allowing her to slide from underneath the smaller woman with ease. She wishes the herb would've provided her a more withstanding bladder, hating to miss even a moment of true rest nestled deep in a too small bed with her "friend". After untangling fingers and limbs silently, Shuri pulls on a large black hoodie from the floor to brace against the frigidness of the room around her. Before she can take a step, she's kicked in the leg by an unsocked foot - since Riri claimed sleeping with socks made you a serial killer. "Hayi!" "Don't go." "I'm not leaving, just going to pee." "I know you're not leaving. You're not stupid enough to make me your enemy." "You're talking in your sleep again." Shuri mocks fondly remembering the last time she was here, listening to Riri mutter equations and something about Shuri that she has yet to say consciously. "You're warm. Come back." Riri slurs, fighting her sleep hard. "One minute, swear it." "I'm counting." After rushing in the bathroom (which is just as cold as she remembered it being, much to her Wakandan dismay), Shuri finds her way back to the bed just as silently as she had left it. Trying to tuck herself back in, Riri interrupts once again. "Uh uh. Take the hoodie off." "Excuse me?" "Just because it's yours doesn't mean you can wear it. It's property of Riri Williams now. Plus I need your warm, super powered skin." "You're something else, you know?" "Hurry up." "You're pretty demanding." "198." Riri says, pulling the blanket up to her chin and stretching her short legs out. "Hmm?" "198 seconds. Over three minutes, by the way. That's how long you took in the bathroom. 198 seconds of our 259,200 seconds total." "You missed me." Shuri says as she slips the hoodie off in one smooth movement that Riri pretended not to notice. "Maybe neither of us are even awake right now and this is all a dream." "What a shame that would be." Shuri says, sliding back into the bed and wrapping her arms around the sassy scientist. Riri nuzzles in without a word. A few moments go by until Shuri decides to interrupt. "You know, if I wear the hoodie, it'll smell like me." "Maybe we can make an arrangement." They lay in blissful silence, slowly falling back into a warm sleep. 258,900 seconds to go.

[redraine57]

Been severely depressed lately and it’s gotten to the point where maintaining my hygiene has been a struggle. I was invited a few days ago to family social gathering and considering Id been isolating for too long, for my health, I wanted to break the cycle of isolation. I didn’t have the energy to make myself presentable (not that I cared to anyway) but I still went. I was greeted with smiles, screechy voices, and a brief overview of where the food was, what kind of food there was, and where everyone would be seated. An auntie I hadn’t seen in years came into the house and lunged at me with the biggest hug. I was immediately wrapped in her perfume and it was such a sweet, invigorating, bouncy smell I actually smiled because of it. It was the first time in days I could enjoy something and because I realized that, for a moment the world wasn’t grey, I didn’t even have the courtesy to greet her properly. I raved at her about how amazing her perfume was. She returned my excitement with, “I took a shower! That’s why I smell so good!” and gave me a bitter drawn out look. I then remembered that I was on god knows how many dry shampoo emergency lifelines and I was sticky from just having worked out an hour earlier. I felt shame and given my state of blue my first instinct was to insight those same feelings in her. I was going to tell her I smelled because I came back from working out real hard and planned on looking her up and down but even in my sour state, I couldn’t and wouldn’t do it.

I stayed reserved and to myself for I had no light to give. I ate quietly and did my best to not let anxiety overwhelm me. I listened to laughter and rather than being cynical towards those who were capable I told myself that it would be me soon. I did my best to receive strangers stares at the scars on my chest with disregard. I put on my mask and smiled for the family pictures taken.

I hadn’t stayed long, less than 2 hours Id say but, before I left the auntie that shamed me when I walked in stopped me. She looked at me with love and glossy eyes. She thanked me for coming and nearly made me break down and cry when she decided to hug me again despite my hygiene. I wanted to cry because of all the family members there I knew, she really saw me.

An unforgettable moment that gave me strength and made a hard day just a little more bearable. Thank you auntie 🤍

[its-vannah]

High Infidelity | Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

A/N: Y'all, I don't condone cheating. Just making that clear. HOWEVER, the angst in this is *chefs kiss*

Warnings: Cheating, infidelity, affairs (both sides), profanity (fucking, whore, etc), induendoes, illegitimate children

Midnights Masterlist

Slur spoken

"Whore."

I'd pay if you'd just know me

Aegon's words no longer fazed you. Being his wife, nothing he said or did had ever fazed you.

Dragged my feet right down the aisle

"My own wife, bedding another man?" He hissed, his hands waving in the air as he drunkenly stepped towards you, "My own nephew?"

You said I was

You remained still, unbothered, "Is it so wrong when you're off fucking women left and right? I had one. You have hundreds."

I didn't know you were keeping count

The anger painted across his face softened into surprise, "How did you know?"

But oh, you were keeping count

"The whole kingdom knows!" You spat, "They knew about your affairs—they know you spend more time off with your mistresses than you do with your own wife!"

"I am the King—you have no control over what I do."

Wound open

You shook your head, "You are no King."

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

The night you were introduced to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon was a night you would never forget. As soon as your eyes met, your guard came down.

Your picket fence is sharp as knives

For as long as you can remember, you had been told to never be vulnerable. Especially around men. They would take advantage of you, or so you were told.

But there was something about the young prince that softened the armor you had built around yourself.

I was dancing around

When he extended a hand and asked you to dance, you took it without a second thought.

Dancing around it

Aegon wouldn't know, not unless there were talks of it. He was too busy fucking your handmaiden. But you didn't mind. It's not like you loved him, not like he hadn't already brought shame upon your marriage. So you danced, and you didn't give a damn what anyone thought of it.

High infidelity

What you didn't expect was to be pinned to a wall later that night, your mouth moving against Jacaerys as he moved one hand through your hair, the other planted firmly on your hip, gripping it tightly.

You had been with Aegon for nearly a year, and yet you had never felt the passion you were experiencing with Jacaerys.

When he bedded you that night, you felt no remorse for your marriage with Aegon. Because it had been in shambles before it had even began.

After you redressed and made your way back to the ballroom, you found that you had managed to sneak away without the blink of an eye.

Bad omen

Or so you thought. What you hadn't realized was your handmaiden's watchful eye, calculating your every move.

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

"How dare you speak to your King as such!" Aegon bellowed, "I am your husband, you will not speak to me in such a manner!"

The slowest way is never loving them enough

Disgust sunk into your features, "You are my husband in name only."

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?

He leaned forward, grabbing you by the hair, "Tell me, where were you the night of the ball? Fucking him in the servants chambers?"

Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?

His chambers, you wanted to correct, but you kept your mouth shut, only staring into his eyes.

Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

"The worst mistake I ever made was taking you to that ball," Aegon growled, "You're nothing but a whore."

And regret me

You didn't bother telling him what had really happened that night. It would've added to his narrative that everyone was against him. And the last thing you wanted was for him to know the truth.

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

The truth was that you had met Jacaerys Velaryon when you were a young girl, only seven at the time. Princess Rhaenyra had been making her rounds to the Houses in the North, attending countless feasts and balls.

As young children, she placed you and Jace together to keep one another company during the long nights she spent socializing.

When it came time to discuss manners not meant for little ears, she sent the two of you away while a handmaiden took Lucerys to his chambers to sleep.

Throughout your time together, you and Jace talked about anything and everything you could think of. What it was like to live in the coldest part of Westeros, what it was like to ride a dragon, what you each thought of the noble houses. It was random, sure, but it was meaningful to the two of you.

Seemed like the right thing at the time

Once a year, you would see Jace and the two of you watched as your friendship grew into something more, as you each matured throughout the years.

A fortnight after your thirteenth name day, you and Jace shared a dance in the corridor outside the ballroom, as you had done since you were children. There was no risk of you getting trampled, and now that you were older, there were no prying eyes.

It was on that night that the two of you shared your first kiss.

The next year, you continued your tradition of dancing in the corridor. And that tradition continued—until your bethrothal to Aegon Targaryen II was announced.

And it's never enough, it's never enough

That last ball, before you were to be wed, you shared one final dance. Just as he was about to pull away, you took his hand and led him to your chambers. That night, he took your maidenhead. You didn't want to lose it to Aegon—you couldn't.

Lock broken

Returning to the corridor later that night as if nothing had happened, you continued dancing until it was time for him to leave.

Blind hoping

It would be nearly two years before you would see him again and share another night together. But no matter how hard Aegon tried to keep the two of you apart, he couldn't keep your newborn son away.

Born with a head of curls and Jace's nose, Arewyn was a constant reminder of the prince. As much as Aegon didn't want to claim the child as his, he couldn't. Not with the silver streaks that speckled Arewyn's hair or the eyes so purple you could see them from a hundred yards away—no doubt inherited from his grandmother.

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love

With all the women your husband had bedded, he was sure to produce a multitude of illigitamate children. But he hadn't produced a single one. Your son, whether his or not, was his only shot. So he allowed your affair to continue.

I bent the truth too far tonight

Whenever asked about why his children didn't favor him more, he would simply point out their purple eyes and slight silver strands. The rumors would come to a halt.

Good husband

After all, you may have been married to Aegon, but it truly was in name only. Jace would always have your heart, and you his.