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nevadancitizen · 10 months

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“debts to pay: nasty majesty!”

synopsis: sniping isn’t really something you wanted to do, but something you were forced into. luckily, you’re one of the best. unluckily, someone wants that position. that someone happens to be a 6′10 freak of a man.

word count: 1.4k

characters: könig, sniper! reader

trigger warnings: canon-typical violence

notes: i think i heard someone talking about könig being jealous that reader’s a sniper and reader being jealous that könig’s an intrusion specialist? can’t find anyone talking about it though. if you’re out there drop by! i like your ideas ^-^ also i’m going to be trying my hand at a series for tha first time in awhile.. be patient w me!!

chapters: one (you are here!) / two

The first thing you notice about König is the similarity he has to Atlas Shrugged and its author, Ayn Rand. He’s constantly trying to play both sides, just how Rand was pro-communism in her politics and pro-capitalism in her books – oh, yes, he’s so shy and insecure and such a fucking loser to others, but when he sees you, you who’s been shoved into the position of a sniper, he fucking seethes.

It’s not even like you wanted this! All your life you’ve been dreaming of having his job, of getting your feet on the ground and putting boots in asses. Maybe it was a misguided attempt to get that adrenaline rush, maybe it was your true calling that your superiors would only recognize in time. But in any case, it wasn’t your job.

Being a sniper isn’t honorable. You sit for hours at a time, being perfectly still, waiting for the perfect opportunity that might not even come. And what were you even supposed to do if there was someone right in front of you? Run five hundred miles away and take a shot? It feels like being the crazy ex: stalking, waiting, and, finally, striking.

And that’s what you were doing right now. Sitting in a highrise apartment that wasn’t yours, looking out the window with binoculars, scoping out the target. She was moving about her hotel room, pacing back and forth while on the phone. It looked like she was having to hold herself back from screaming into it.

The comm in your ear crackles to life. Your superior addresses you, then asks for a sitrep. You sigh and look away, bringing the binoculars away from your face. Your peripheral vision comes back into focus after you rub your eyes.

You speak into your comms, “Schaeffer’s still in her hotel. On a call. Looks pretty damn angry.”

“Hold your fire,” your superior says. “Wait til she’s hung up. Then make it quick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You quickly open the window and grab your sniper rifle, attaching a suppressor and resting the bi-pod on the windowsill. Breathing out slowly, you closed one eye and looked down the scope. It was just like looking down the binoculars, just with a crosshair, you remind yourself. You find Schaeffer’s hotel room window through the scope and watch.

A horrible feeling settles into the pit of your stomach. You feel like a creep. You want to give the revolutionist an honorable death – best her in combat or something. Not shoot once and run away like a coward.

Schaeffer screams into the phone, very probably something along the lines of ‘fuck you!’. She hangs up and throws her phone into the duvet of her hotel bed. Her hands fly to her scalp, looking like she wants to tug her locs out as she practically froths at the mouth in frustration.

“Permission to fire?” you ask quietly.

“Permission granted.”

The sound of the bullet leaving the gun is muffled by the suppressor, but right next to your head, it sounds like the crack of Babe Ruth hitting a baseball. Schaeffer jerks back and falls, just a bit of blood and brain matter splattering onto the wall. Confetti fit for a funeral.

“Target down,” you say into the comms. You quickly gather your things, making sure to leave no evidence you even broke into the apartment for the perfect angle on Schaeffer. With your disassembled rifle in a duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you walk out of the apartment as casually as you can – even pretend to lock it behind you.

You walk down the hall with your heart roaring in your ears, adrenaline screaming at your body to run as fast as you can, lest you get caught by Schaeffer’s followers. But you maintain a calm – maybe even bored – demeanor.

And everything is quiet until you step into the elevator.

A college student, no older than twenty, steps aside when you step into the elevator. You shift on your feet when you see a Vox Populi pin on their backpack – the name of Schaeffer’s revolution. The disassembled rifle clatters in your duffel bag. The college student sends a weird look your way as the scope falls out and clangs on the floor.

You quickly grab it and shove it in your pocket. You look at them out of the corner of your eye, gauging their reaction. “Don’t worry – it’s a prop. I’m a cinema student. The rest is filming equipment.”

The way you speak leaves little room for doubt. The college student hums in understanding. You let out a silent sigh of relief and thank your lucky stars.

You both stand in silence until the elevator reaches the bottom level of the apartment complex. You head for the front door while the college student heads for the front desk – probably to pick up a package or something.

You’re one foot out the door when you glance over your shoulder to see the college student pointing at you. One of the front desk attendants slides her hand under the desk and hits a button, causing an alarm to blare.

You take off, practically tripping over yourself as you run. Your hand flies to your ear, pressing the talk button on your comm. “Cover’s compromised, what now?!”

“Sending coordinates of a nearby operator. He’s in a black, four-door SUV,” your superior replies.

You slide into an alley, fishing your phone out of your pocket. The operator’s two hundred feet away – something you can cover without exhausting yourself too much. You pocket your phone and take off running towards him, eyes scouring the streets for a parked car that matches the description.

When you see that only one car on the street is a black, four-door SUV, you immediately open the door and slide into the backseat, throwing your duffel bag on the seat beside you.

You’ve only caught your breath just the slightest bit when you say your name and identify yourself as a fellow KorTac operator. You lean into the gap between the front seats to get a look at the driver, but your eyes dart to a ragged, black t-shirt in the passenger seat. Grey thread sews the neck and arm holes shut, and bleach-dyed tears run from two ragged holes cut in the pec area. You immediately recognize it as a mask that belongs to –

“König. KorTac.”

You whip around to see his narrowed eyes peeking out from behind his hood. He’s gripping the steering wheel like he’s trying to choke it out. You lean back into backseat territory, sighing.

You look out the window at the people walking on the sidewalk. “Superiors said to catch a ride with you.”

“And I wasn’t alerted.” König shifts the car into drive and moves onto the road, still keeping that white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

You roll your eyes and scoff. “It was practically a fucking fiasco, man. Don’t think there was time for them to call you up and say, ‘Hey, is it alright if one more operator tags along back to base?’!”

“Of course you’re the type to say fiasco,” König mutters under his breath.

“What does that even mean?!”

König doesn’t respond, just keeps his eyes on the road. You sigh and lean forward between the gaps in the front seats, turning on the radio so you don’t suffocate in this silence that’s quickly growing tense. König’s grip on the steering wheel relaxes.

You lean back against the seat, watching the countryside fly by. The disassembled rifle rattles in your duffel bag. You lay a hand on it to silence it.

Minutes go by as the top hundred hits play on the radio before König reaches over and turns the volume down just the slightest bit.

He glances in the rearview mirror before returning his eyes to the road. “Who was it?”

You shift in your seat, ever so slightly. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m trying to be polite.”

“Sure, ‘cause you know so much about politeness.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens again. You’re sure he could rip it straight off if he wanted to. Maybe he would. Hell, maybe he’d beat you to death with it just so he could take your job. He’s just like that when it comes to you.

You lean forward and turn the volume back up. A new song starts – one with heavy beats that almost shake the car. The beat cuts out for a split second and a woman sing-shouts “Na-a-sty!”

Your eyes flicker to the radio interface. The song is Nasty Majesty by Off the Hook. A small smile settles across your face as you lean against the window.

That’s what König is. A nasty majesty.

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anatay004 · 1 year

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ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ | ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ᴅɪᴇ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜱɪx)

Summary: After a blissful night of peace, war eventually breaks through Dragonstone when the king dies and your marriage with Jacaerys is suddenly at risk. He will not let war come you.

(A/N): So, sadly, this is the last part of the Love Me Not series! But I’ll be posting a longer version on AO3 soon this week, however, the story will be in depth and with an OC.

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ

IT WAS THE sound of deafening screams that jolted you awake the next morning. Instinctively, you turned to your side and reached for Jacaerys, but his side of the bed was empty. You sucked in a breath, the breeze that ripped through the windows peppered goosebumps over your naked skin and you shivered at the cold.

Where was he?

Then you heard the screams again.

You climbed out of bed and changed at once.

You rushed through the corridors, heart hammering against your chest as your sister's screams strained your ears. You were disoriented, unaware of the trouble that was slithering within the walls of the castle as Rhaenyra began to birth her daughter.

"Sister," Rhaenyra hissed out when your frame stumbled into her line of vision. You swallowed the knot in your throat, the sight of her crimson nightgown and strangled moans made you falter in your spot. She was not ready to give birth. "Our father has passed."

Your head reeled.

Oh, you thought.

Somewhere in the haze, her screams broke into your reverie again. You blinked, but your muscles could not move, the news push forward an unmoored plague that pestered your reason. You were standing in the room, but the light of humanity dimmed in your irises and you were nothing more than a shadow as she screamed for the babe to come out – nothing more.

"My love," Jacaerys' voice made you flinch, but his touch comforted you almost immediately as he anchored his hands on your arms tenderly.

"The greens have repudiated the succession and claimed the iron throne." Rhaenyra continued, a cry of pain clogged in her throat.

Your skin pricked with goosebumps.

"Aegon has been crowned King."

Jacaerys' fingers tightened around your arms.

"What is it to be done about it?" Jacaerys spat, a heated tone wrapped around his words.

"Nothing yet!" Rhaenyra cried.

You exhaled sharply. "Fuck..."

"Where is Daemon?" Jacaerys demanded, his hands dropped to his sides, fisting in anger.

"I don't know," Rhaenyra answered. "Gone to madness, gone to plan his war."

Jacaerys clenched his jaw.

"Jace..." You began, but he dismissed you and made to leave the room at once to look for Daemon. You knew the war was coming, it lingered in your skin the moment he let go of you and you shivered at the sudden coldness.

Beside you, Lucerys searched for your hand.

"Jace," Rhaenyra berated, making your husband stop in his tracks momentarily. "Whatever claim remains to me, you are now its heir."

You swallowed hard.

You were to be queen soon.

"Naught it is to be done but by my command."

Jacaerys remained silent, a searing heat flashed across his eyes as he looked back at his mother – he was furious, you'd never seen him like this before. He eventually nodded and walked out of the room without bothering to look back.

Luke squeezed your hand in comfort before following his brother.

You followed his frame with sad eyes.

Your father was dead.

And so will many others soon.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You were there when Rhaenyra birthed a corpse.

And you were there when her daughter's body was wrapped in coarse and grainy bandages.

She had been born dead.

And now, you were standing amongst the crowd outside the castle, watching from afar the sullied funeral that deemed the crown cursed. Within a blink of an eye, everything fell into chaos, and, with your father's death, you feared the worse was yet to come.

So, you watched in silence.

Jacaerys was standing next to you, but his presence felt as if it was miles away from you. He wallowed in his thoughts and you didn't question it, not at first, it seemed rather reasonable given the tragic circumstances. So, you let him be and focused your attention on Joffrey instead. The child was perplexed, he hugged your legs in search of comfort and you raked a hand through his curls in affection.

"It's okay," You lowly whispered when the little boy looked up in search of your gaze. "Everything will be alright."

Jacaerys shifted a little beside you.

"I swear to ward the Queen," Erryk Cargill's voice strained your ears, he kneeled before Rhaenyra and offered her the King's crown. "With all my strength..."

You narrowed your eyes at the scene.

Your father's crown.

A pain retaliated in the pit of your stomach.

He was dead too.

"My Queen," Daemon kneeled, after placing the crown on Rhaenyra's head – Queen Rhaenyra. Everyone followed his actions soon after, kneeling before your sister in affirmation of their loyalty and support.

A tang of crimson settled down your throat.

You kneeled too.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"What is our standing?"

"We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men-at-arms."

After the funeral, the counsel room ensued with tension as everyone gathered to plan for war. You were standing beside Rhaenyra, listening to everyone's back-and-forth discussion with little interest on your part.

You wanted to get out.

Something about withholding the mourning of your father's death and the possible confrontation with your brothers made you sick. It marred your face with shadows, it was more than evident you weren't feeling well.

You sucked in a breath.

You wanted to wallow in your memories. You wanted to burrow in the recesses of your mind and trace back to when Viserys was your only home. You wanted to go back to when Aemond and Aegon pestered you day and night, to when they were your loyal company and you were theirs. You wanted to go back so bad.

But those days were gone.

"Your grace, a ship has been sighted offshore." Erryk Cargill announced, and you blinked in sudden realization – your brothers. "A lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon."

Idiots, you thought.

"Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies." Daemon commanded, and soon after, everyone began to make their way outside.

You were nervous.

So, you decided to wait for Jacaerys, falling back a few steps to allow everyone else to make their way through. You wanted his comfort and his words of consolation, but you were more than surprised when he didn't slow down his pace and, instead, walked past you awarely.

You faltered on your spot as he disappeared through the corridors.

He didn't even spare you a glance.

You clenched your jaw, trying to feign an unfazed look on your face as you made to walk out of the room. You cursed him silently, a few hours ago, he had made love to you and whispered dulcet words of affection in your ears, but – now, he was acting as if you were invisible.

You didn't walk to your room that afternoon. Instead, you made your way to the only person who could ever provide you with affection.

"You don't look well, auntie," Lucerys admitted when you knocked and walked into his room. You didn't answer for a moment, instead, you offered him a faint smile. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," You mumbled, but he didn't believe you. The uneasy expression on his face made it evident, but you tried to dismiss it. "It's been a tough time day, hasn't it?"

He looked down at his hands. "Rather stupid."

You tried to stifle a chuckle. "Stupid is an interesting choice of word."

Lucerys' lips itched. "That's how it feels."

You opened your mouth to answer, but his arms wrapped around your waist before you could. He pressed his head against your chest in affection, arms tight around your frame as if he was almost afraid of letting you go for a second.

You returned the hug.

"I'm scared," He admitted.

Your heart shattered.

"I'm scared too," You whispered, and placed a soft kiss on top of his head that made his grip tighten around you. You weren't sure how long it lasted, but the blissful moment made the raw wound inside your chest stop bleeding for a minute – it almost cured the malady.

For a second, you felt safe.

And he did too.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You ended up sleeping in Lucerys room. In between whispers and hushes, he had told you about his worries and insecurities about disappointing everyone, including you.

"You could never disappoint me," You had assured him that night quietly, "Nothing in the world could ever make me love you less."

He squeezed your hand underneath the sheets.

When morning came, you climbed out of bed and made your way out in silence, tiptoeing around to avoid disturbing his sleep. After debating with yourself, you eventually made your way back to your chamber, but the room was empty as you expected. The sheets, however, were untidy and well slept in – that brought you a little comfort.

Jace had slept here.

Your handmaidens soon bathed and helped you change into a comfortable dress to attend breakfast alone. You walked around the corridors in silence, chewing the inside of your cheeks as you tried to comprehend everything that had tumbled down in a matter of hours, but it didn't take long for your husband to find you.

"Where the hell were you last night?" He hissed, hand suddenly latched onto your wrist.

You pulled your hand back. "Why do you care?"

He gave you a look. "You're my wife, have you forgotten that tiny detail?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Unbelievable."

How valiant of him to act clueless.

How fucking valiant of him to confront you.

You rolled your eyes at him and made to walk away, but he latched his hand onto your elbow and pulled you back effortlessly.

"Where were you?" He spat through his teeth. This time, there was a tick in his jaw and a familiar hint of anger glossed his eyes – he was jealous, but he didn't dare to blurt it out.

Your lips itched. "How bad does it concern you, my love?"

He exhaled sharply. "How bad do you fucking think? Must I repeat myself?"

You relished his sudden outburst, but the feeling soon quenched down when the memory of his indifference conquered your thoughts.

"What games are you playing?" You questioned, pulling back from his touch. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but you took a deliberate step closer despite his glare. "Do you think I'm some kind of whore you can fuck and ignore when you please?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"My father passed and you didn't even dare to look my way yesterday. Not once did you offer consolation, instead, you treated me as nothing more than a shadow behind your pace."

"Perhaps, not everything was about you? My mother lost her father too and she wasn't weeping in hopes for someone to offer a hug."

You faltered on your spot.

Oh.

You felt a wave of heat roll over your skin, but the searing anger made your lips tighten into a thin line – no answer. And he was adamant in his stance because he didn't relent despite the hurt expression on your face; not one bit.

"My prince, your mother requests your presence along with the princess's."

"We shall be there in a moment."

But you walked away before he could look at you.

"Love, wait – "

But you didn't stop.

His words touched your chest, something about them made your breath still inside your lungs and tears collect at the bottom of your eyelids. You brushed them away with the back of your hand roughly as you cursed his name.

Damn him and damn his fucking head.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"The narrow sea is ours," Lord Corlys finally announced, declaring an alliance with your sister in the counsel room. She was taken aback for a second before a small smile itched on her lips. "If we further deal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King's Landing..."

You were standing next to Lucerys, tracing arbitrary patterns over the wood map. You were quiet – too quiet, thinking about the cruel tragedies that bruised your heart. Your father was dead, your husband was being cruel and your sister was planning a war.

You chewed the inside of your cheek again.

You wanted to walk out, but the tough tension in the room rushed the air out of your lungs and tried to suffocate you and only you. You wanted no war and no part in rebellions and deaths, but even the fool of your heart knew neither was an option for someone like you.

So, you inhaled shakily.

From the corner of your eyes, you caught a small glance of Jacaerys – searching for you.

You looked down at your hands. After his words, you didn't want to interact with him.

"We should bear those messages." Jacaerys suddenly spoke, after your sister had requested to send ravens to Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm's End. "Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they are more convincing."

You looked at him then.

Your face was marred with utter shock, despite your current differences, you were not prepared to let him walk into an open field of danger and cruelty. Your eyebrows knitted together in evident disapproval, but he dismissed it.

"Send us."

Your breath stilled in your throat.

After a hesitant moment, Rhaenyra eventually answered, "Very well, then. Prince Jacaerys and my sister will fly North – "

" – Not my wife," Jace interjected. "She will not be placed in the middle of the battlefield."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

No, he will not do this to me, you thought.

"Princess (Y/N) rides the largest dragon on our side, if convincing is what we need, her dragon will certainly do plenty." Lord Corlys stated, his answer earned approving nods from the council, but Jacaerys was adamant.

"Perhaps, she can patrol Dragonstone along with Daemon, she has the biggest dragon on our side as you mentioned, it will be needed here if the greens dare to come again."

"I do not wish to stay in Dragonstone," You finally spoke, darting your husband a look before turning to face your sister. "I can travel North with Baelor and convince the Starks to honor the oath they once made to you. I've heard Lord Cregan Stark is closer to my age than most in this room, I can assure you I can do it."

Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

Rhaenyra pensively looked at you, but there was a hint of hesitation in her blue irises as Jacaerys looked back at her with utter challenge.

"She my wife, I have the final word."

"No, you do not – " You tried, but he interrupted with a tone of finality that made everyone quiet.

"I am your husband and future heir to the iron throne, you will do as I say. No Queen can dissipate that, not even my mother."

You were furious, words couldn't describe the ferocious anger that flitted across your face. You hated him at that moment, he belittled in front of the council – and for what? You wanted to yell and fight, but the words never ripped past your lips and, instead, you decided to finally walk out of the room.

And this time, he did follow.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"What is it that you want from me?" You eventually questioned, when he stepped inside your chamber and made to walk closer to you.

"I want to keep you safe! Is it so hard for you to comprehend?" He defended, narrowing his eyes as he examined your features carefully. You looked back at him with bitter anger, soft irises torched with copper and gold.

"Is that so?" You challenged. "Is that why you belittled me and deemed me nothing more than a wife in front of everyone in the counsel?"

He clenched his jaw. "I do not wish for you to accompany me to the North, I can not risk your life for an alliance that I am not certain of yet."

You scuffed. "Bullshit."

Jacaerys sighed, but his muscles slowly dropped at the sight of the tension in your shoulders. You waited for an answer, but he took a step closer instead. You held back your breath as he slide an arm behind your waist gently. "You're right, I shouldn't have said those things in front of the council. I became desperate and clung to the safest option that would keep you in Dragonstone without a challenge from anyone.

"But I do not wish to stay here."

"And I do not wish to put you in danger."

"Then we're both imbeciles." You whispered, dropping your gaze to his lips subconsciously. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head in evident stress before tracing soft patterns over your back.

"Perhaps," He admitted, tilting his head to the side before lowly adding, "The things I said about your father's death, it was all a lie, I stepped out of line and I apologize for it. I should've been there to offer comfort like the husband I am, but I was so fucking scared of losing everyone."

"Jace – " You began, but he shook his head and his fingers pulled your face towards him.

" – I can't lose you." He stated, words vehement and firm as they slipped out his lips. You swallowed hard, examining his features with careful eyes – he was being sincere.

You nibbled your bottom lip.

"Let me go North with you." You pleaded, and he shifted a little on his heels at your sudden words. "You speak of fear and regret as if they're foreign to me. Have you ever stopped to think about how your injuries or possible death could affect me? I would much rather die than watch you go."

I let go of my father once too, you thought, and hell eventually happened.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted.

"Please, Jace," You whispered, and his lips swiftly met yours at the exposed vulnerability that ripped through your facade. You kissed him back, allowing the pain that retaliated in the pit of your stomach to dissipate at once.

After a moment, he pulled away and leaned his forehead pensively against yours.

"Okay," He finally breathed out, "Let's go North."

#jacaerys x reader #fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #daemon targeryan #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #aegon x reader

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nobody-nexus · 5 months

Text

More TADC Incorrect Quotes

(Warning some may be nsfw) Contains Ragapom as well because why not

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Jax, to the Squad: The real secret to immortality? Not dying. You want to be immortal? Okay, that’s easy. Just don’t die. That’s it. Refuse to die. There you go Pomni: But how- Jax, ignoring them: “But how”, you may ask. Well, easy. Just don’t do it. Refuse to. Say “no thanks”

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Pomni: That was so hot, Ragatha Ragatha: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenerate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. Pomni: I'm so in love with you.

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Ragatha: Hey, Zooble, where are you going? Zooble: Well, it depends. When I die, probably hell Zooble: But right now I’m going to McDonald’s

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Jax: What kinds of sounds annoy you? Kinger: Are we talking real sounds or imaginary ones? Jax, now interested: Lets say imaginary Kinger: Spiders wearing flip flops

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Pomni: I would do anything for money. later Pomni, covered in blood: THE STATEMENT STILL STANDS!

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Zooble: I just watched Pomni jump off of a spinning chair. Luckily, they weren't hurt that badly. But the whole time, Jax was screaming for help, which caused Ragatha to run in to help Pomni. Just note that all of this happened in the span of six minutes

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Bubble: Bye Caine! Bye Pomni! Bye Gangle! Bye Jax! Bye Caine! Kinger: You said ‘bye Caine’ twice- Bubble: I like Caine.

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Caine: Okay happy circus members! If you were a fruit, what would you be and why? Zooble: I'd be a tomato because no one accepts me as part of the group. Caine: ... Zooble: ... Caine: OKAY HAPPY CIRCUS MEMBERS-

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Pomni: Love is weakness and an evolutionary mistake Zooble: You are literally making a Valentine’s day card for Ragatha Pomni, pointing their hot glue gun towards Zooble: You’re on thin f#&king ice.

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Jax: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited Pomni: "If"? Zooble: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to, and he might not even die

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Caine: Jax, my old friend! Jax: I think you tried to kill me at some point Caine: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you

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Gangle: Do you see yourself as a glass half-full or glass half-empty kind of person? Kinger: Half-full, definitely! Kinger: Half-full and constantly rising. Kinger: Soon the water will escape its container and consume us all.

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Ragatha: I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumba$$es and dumba$$es exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight. Pomni: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther? Ragatha, already taking off her clothes: God, Pomni, you’re so f#%king stupid.

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Ragatha: Truth or dare? Zooble: Truth Ragatha: How many hours have you slept this week? Zooble: Zooble: Dare Ragatha: Go to sleep. Zooble: I don't like this game.

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Jax, texting Zooble: Any plans for tonight? Zooble: No Jax: Loser

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Caine: You three, explain right now! Pomni: It was Jax Ragatha: It was Jax Zooble: It was Jax Jax: Jax: …fuck.

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Caine, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume? Bubble: grabs and chugs the entire bottle Bubble: Bubble: It's perfume :D

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Ragatha: Kinger… Kinger: Oh no, 'Kinger' in B flat Kinger: You're disappointed

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Pomni stumbles into the hall of dorms, absolutely drunk, takes off her hat, and stands in Ragatha’s bedroom. Ragatha: Babe, are you.. coming to bed? Pomni: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend. Pomni: Lies on the ground and falls asleep Ragatha: …

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Caine: If you put 'violently' in front of anything to describe your action, it becomes funnier Caine: Violently practices Kinger: Violently studies Ragatha: Violently sleeps Gangle: Violently shoots pictures Zooble: Violently boxes Pomni: Violently murders people. Ragatha: Violently worries about the previous statement

===

Jax, knocking on the door: Gangle, open up! Gangle: It all started when I was a kid. Jax: Wha- OPEN THE F#%KING DOOR

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Jax: You need to be more careful, dollface Ragatha, who was dragged into Jax's issue: Careful? CAREFUL?! I'LL CAREFULLY WRAP MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT-

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Thump noise Pomni, from the other room: What happened?! Jax: Gangle’s shirt fell Pomni: Why was it loud? Jax: It had them inside

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Kinger: Hi, who's this? Jax changed all of my contacts to mythical creatures Gangle: What's mine? Kinger: Dwarf Gangle: THEY'RE SO MEAN, I'M NOT THAT SHORT! Kinger: Oh, hey Gangle Gangle: F#%K!

===

Zooble: If we’re in trouble, just throw Ragatha at the problem, and hope for the best

===

*Gangle teaching Zooble to drive and taking Jax along for the ride* Gangle: That's a pothole. To the left! Zooble: Take it back now y'all *Drives into pothole* Jax, sticking their face into the front over the center console: Cha Cha real smooth. Zooble: I don't think that's how the song goes. Gangle, crying and gripping the handle: Please just take me home. Zooble: Country Roads. Jax: To the place. Zooble and Jax in unison: I Belong! Gangle, crying harder: What the f#%k?

===

Jax: You know, there’s only one person in this world who can tell you what you are Ragatha: Yourself! Jax: No. Jax: Me

===

Jax: "What are you into?" is such a broad question, like do I reply with a TV series or choking?

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Pomni: Good night Ragatha: Sleep tight! Caine: Don't let the bedbugs crawl up to your ear and whisper threatening things that make you question yourself! Jax: Great, now Ragatha's crying

===

Gangle: Tomorrow's garbage day Jax: I can't believe they made a whole day dedicated to you

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Pomni: My mom is calling… hi mom! Ragatha: Come on guys, stop. They’re trying to talk to their mom. Jax: loud fake sexual noises Caine: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP! Zooble: is asleep Kinger: gets really close to the phone Tell her I said hi.

===

Jax: What did Ragatha do this time? Zooble: More like WHO did Ragatha do this time?

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Ragatha: Dom or sub? Pomni: I guess Domino's, since I don't go to Subway that much. Don't see why you'd put them in the same category though

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Zooble: Who would you kill out of the four of us, Ragatha? Ragatha: Jax, easily. Jax, laughing: What the f#%k, girl Ragatha: Well, Pomni would be too easy. They’d probably be into it. Pomni, now standing in the doorway: What the f#$k, Ragatha!?

===

Pomni: Guys, I didn’t memorize my lines! Caine: Just use your lack of common sense! Everyone knows the characters in plays are dumb! During the play Gangle: Hey! You finally made it! Did you get the donuts? Pomni: W-what’re donuts?

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fanficapologist · 4 months

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Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

“No. No, that cannot be right.”

As the news of her pregnancy sank in, Maera's initial shock gave way to a sense of denial, almost as if she were trying to resist the reality of the situation. Uncertainty clouded her features, and her mind raced with conflicting emotions. The ongoing war cast a dark shadow over her thoughts, and the unsettling prophecies of Helaena added an additional layer of worry.

The specter of death in childbirth loomed large, a heavy concern that intertwined with the complexities of the world around her. In the midst of this emotional whirlwind, Maera found herself grappling with the profound implications of bringing a child into such turbulent times.

The maester maintained his composure and explained, “I am quite certain, Princess. The babe will likely arrive in seven moons.”

Maera, still grappling with the revelation, attempted to find reason. “But what about the bleeding?” she asked, standing up from the bed.

Maester Orwyle reassured her, “Sometimes, when a babe is forming in the womb and nestles into its place, it can cause some bleeding. It is usually nothing to worry about, but I will monitor it closely to ensure your health and the babe’s.”

Despite the Maester's reassurance, Maera found her mind continuing to race with anxious thoughts. As she rose from the examination bed, she couldn't help but pick at the golden and sapphire ring on her left hand, something precious that Aemond had previously gifted her.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, Maera took in the image reflected back at her. Her hair, dark brown with the distinctive silver streak, was braided and adorned with a golden headpiece. Widened green eyes stared back, framed by the mourning attire she wore—a black dress with embroidered golden dragons on the collar. She contemplated how her body might change as the pregnancy developed, adding another layer to the uncertainty that had taken hold.

A sobering thought crossed Maera's mind as she processed the news of her pregnancy. While the birth of a new child into House Targaryen would typically be celebrated as a blessing, the recent tragedies weighed heavily on her. The brutal murder of four-year-old Jaehaerys and Helaena's heartbreaking loss had cast a somber pallor over the household. In the wake of such sorrow, Maera couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the right time for the joyous news of a new life to be shared. The timing seemed almost cruel against the backdrop of recent events, adding a layer of complexity to the emotions surrounding the revelation.

Turning to the maester, Maera expressed, "Tomorrow is Jaehaerys' funeral, and news of a new baby would be a massive blow to the Queen. Can I count on your discretion until at least after the funeral?"

The maester nodded understandingly and replied, "You have my word, Princess. However, you should consider informing your husband as soon as possible." Maera nodded in acknowledgment, recognizing the wisdom in involving Aemond before anyone else. The weight of both grief and unexpected joy pressed upon her as she contemplated the delicate balance she needed to maintain during such trying times.

After leaving the Maester's rooms, Maera chose to avoid her own chambers, finding solace in the temporary refuge of denial. Facing Aemond would mean confronting the reality of the pregnancy, a reality she wished to postpone just a little while longer. Instead, she sought out Helaena's chambers, longing for the comfort of her friend's presence. However, her attempt to enter was thwarted by the vigilant guards, denying her access as Helaena was still not accepting visitors. Desperation to see her friend warred with the understanding that Helaena's mind remained deeply troubled, leaving Maera caught between a longing for connection and the harsh reality of the present.

Attempting to seek comfort in another manner, Maera hesitated to face the Grand Sept, haunted by the painful reminders of little Jaehaerys and Helaena's unborn child. Opting for a more intimate space, she made her way to the smaller Royal Sept, situated across the courtyard from the stables. In contrast to the grandeur of the main Sept, this smaller place of worship exuded a humble tranquility. Marble altars dedicated to each of the Seven Gods adorned the space, enveloped in the comforting scent of incense and the flickering glow of numerous candles. Kneeling before a small statue of the Mother, Maera sought solace in prayer as her mind began reeling with troubling and worrying thoughts.

Closing her verdant eyes, Maera pleaded for guidance and mercy as she grappled with the unexpected news. In the sacred silence of the Royal Sept, her thoughts unraveled like fragile threads. The looming prospect and expectation of delivering a son to further the Targaryen legacy, felt like an unspoken demand echoing through the corridors of her thoughts.

Her body, once a vessel of her own, now became a subject of scrutiny, a canvas on which the eyes of the court would fixate and criticise. In the hallowed silence, Maera’s thoughts involuntarily turned to the woman whose memory lingered as both a beacon and a phantom—her mother, Lady Gael. In the solitude of prayer, Maera silently wondered how Lady Gael navigated the complexities of carrying an heir. Her mother had weathered the trials of three pregnancies, the final one claiming her life. The untold tales of Lady Gael's experiences, the joys, and perhaps the fears, now hung in the air like a sacred whisper.

“Maera?” A voice echoed in the sacred space. Turning slowly, she found herself facing her mother-in-law, the Dowager Queen.

Alicent, clad in black mourning attire adorned with deep green detailing, stood before Maera with a demeanor of surprise. Her auburn hair was meticulously pinned atop her head, veiled as if to shield her grief. Brown eyes widened as they met Maera's, forming a silent connection in the quiet expanse of the sept.

As Maera rose from her prayer, the weight of her recent news settled heavily on her shoulders. Without conscious thought, she moved swiftly toward Alicent, her steps a mixture of fear and confusion. Abruptly reaching out, Maera initiated a desperate hug, as if seeking refuge from the storm of emotions within.

In that moment, vulnerability painted across Maera's face, she didn't disclose the cause of her turmoil. Alicent, perceptive to the unspoken distress, responded after a moment with a tender embrace. Though it wasn't the exact solace Maera had yearned for, the warmth of Alicent's arms provided a lifeline through the turbulent sea of emotions that defined the remainder of that challenging day.

After another prayer shared with Alicent and a brief apology for her emotional outburst, Maera resorted to yet another tactic of evasion. Seeking refuge in her father's quarters, she requested to dine with him, a request Lord Jasper willingly granted.

As they sat at the dining table, Maera played with the food on her plate using her fork, her gaze fixed on her father. She abstained from consuming a single mouthful, her mind preoccupied. Lord Jasper, with his distinguished appearance—dark hair and piercing grey-green eyes—engaged in lively discourse about his duties as the Master of Laws. Despite his animated prattle, Maera's attention wavered, consumed by thoughts she struggled to voice.

Observing Maera's distracted demeanor, Lord Jasper tactfully shifted the conversation, taking a mouthful of potatoes before saying, “You know, I have received a number of letters from our House via raven over the last few weeks.”

This piqued Maera’s interest, and she looked up from her plate. “What news do they bring?” she inquired.

Lord Jasper, sensing her need for a lighter topic, smiled and replied, “Well, your eldest brother, Guston, wrote. Seems his new baby girl is thriving. He also mentioned that he is completely wrapped around her little finger.”

A chuckle escaped Maera’s lips. “Really? I thought Guston wanted another son.”

Lord Jasper nodded, sipping his wine. “Indeed, he did. But you know how it goes. Daughters have a way with their fathers when they’re tiny and cute.”

As Lord Jasper shared more family news, Maera sipped chamomile tea from a nearby cup, absorbing the updates. Her father mentioned, "Cedric has been officially invited to the Citadel to train as a Maester."

A bright smile lit up Maera's face. "That's wonderful news, Father. I am sure he'll make us proud."

Lord Jasper nodded, expressing gratitude to the Gods. "Yes, thank the Gods. It is a way for him to honor House Wylde. I had low hopes for him with his quiet nature, but this opportunity is a blessing."

Sensing her father's veiled criticism, Maera cleared her throat, silently conveying her disapproval of bashing her brother. Lord Jasper, understanding the unspoken message, shifted the conversation. Taking a sip of his wine, he continued, "Dermot sent his congratulations for your wedding and expressed concerns about the war with Princess Rhaenyra. He stated if he could offer aid, he would, but I am unsure how he would plan on doing that." Maera nodded, a hint of discomfort crossing her features at the mention of the impending war.

Lord Jasper, picking up on the pause, smoothly transitioned to a more neutral topic, “And it seems our family to be blessed with more weddings very soon.”

“Oh?” Maera replied intriguingly, leaning in, prompting Lord Jasper to reveal further news.

“Gwyn is now betrothed to the younger sister of Lord Edwin of Tarth.” Maera cocked her head, absorbing the information. Lord Jasper elaborated, “It’s a strategic match, further allying Tarth to the Greens cause.”

Nodding in understanding, Maera encouraged him to continue. Lord Jasper revealed, “Luthor has now been matched with Lady Cassandra of House Baratheon. He will soon depart from Rain House to wed her and will remain at Storm’s End during his marriage.”

A smile played on Maera’s lips. “I hope Luthor finds happiness in his match to her,” she remarked, genuinely wishing well for her older brother.

Lord Jasper continued, "Happy or not, Luthor will do his duty, and produce as many heirs as possible."

The mention of heirs rekindled nerves within Maera, a silent reminder of her own pregnancy. Lost in her thoughts, she went quiet, unknowingly prompting her father to share more. Lord Jasper revealed, "Lord Borros still lacks an heir. If Luthor and Lady Cassandra were to produce a boy, the child could be named Lord Paramount of the Stormlands."

Maera, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, stood abruptly, the sound of cutlery jingling as she knocked against the wooden table. Lord Jasper, concerned, asked, "Are you well, daughter?"

Claiming to have lost track of time, Maera stated, "I should return to my chambers." With a polite bid for a good night, she departed, the urgency of the impending conversation with Aemond now impossible to ignore. She knew she would have to face the reality of her pregnancy and share the news with her husband, a task that seemed daunting in the wake of the recent emotionally turbulent events.

As Maera stepped into the chamber, the familiar sight transformed into an unsettling tableau. Shadows clung to the edges, rendering corners obscure and accentuating the silence that hung in the air like a heavy veil. The eerie quiet heightened Maera's awareness, each footstep echoing with a gravity that matched the weight of the news she was about to share.

The unlit candles, their wicks whispering traces of smoke, stood as silent witnesses to the unspoken tension within the chamber. It was a stark departure from the usual ambiance, setting the stage for a conversation that promised to alter the very fabric of their shared existence. And yet Maera knew only one reason why the room would be this dark and quiet so early into the night- Aemond was struggling with his lost eye, the throbbing and piercing pain of it being dulled by the darkness and silence.

With the subtle chime of a bell, Maera's maid, Thena, materialized in the quiet chamber, ready to attend to the princess for the evening. The room, shrouded in a solemn atmosphere, seemed to come to life as Thena approached her duties. With practiced hands, the maid delicately removed her golden headpiece and unpinned Maera's hair from its intricate updo. Cascading in a blend of brown and a striking silver streak, the locks tumbled down, framing Maera's face. Next, Thena carefully unlaced Maera's dress, the fabric surrendering and pooling at her feet. Left in her shift after Thena's assistance, Maera dismissed her maid with gratitude.

Alone in the quiet chamber, she approached the four-poster bed, revealing the figure of her silver-haired husband beneath the covers. Aemond lay on his side, the moonlight outlining his toned arms and torso. Silver strands of hair glinted in the dimness, and the brief silhouette of his jaw hinted at his rugged charm. In the darkness, Maera discerned that his eyepatch and the sapphire usually nestled in his eye socket, had been placed in a golden dish on the bedside table.

As Maera removed her shift, she revealed herself entirely, a curvaceous silhouette in the moonlit room. Aemond, a man who favored the intimacy of constant skin-on-skin contact, had an aversion to her wearing clothing during sleep. It brought a sense of vulnerability, to be so bare before one another consistently. Maera knew her husband was not a man of many romantic gestures or poetic words of devotion, yet she knew being able to feel each other brought him great comfort, as it did her.

With a deliberate gentleness, Maera lifted the sheets and slid into bed, ensuring minimal disturbance to Aemond's rest. The weight of the impending revelation about her pregnancy could wait until the morning. As she lay back, head touching the pillow, preparing to close her eyes, she sensed a subtle movement behind her. Maera felt his warm torso press against her back, one arm sliding under her pillow and another snaking around her waist, pulling her closer.

In the hushed tones of sleep coating his voice, Aemond gently spoke to her. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

Consumed by her own thoughts and reluctant to burden him with her news, Maera kept her response brief. “I had duties to attend to, my Prince.”

A hum was Aemond’s only response. Molding his body to hers like a warm cocoon, he offered a silent reassurance. Attuned to her tension, began to run his fingers up and down her bare arm, eliciting subtle goosebumps. Maera, appreciating the comfort, found solace in the rhythmic movement of his fingers and the warmth that encapsulated her.

After a moment, he spoke again, “I assume all is well? After your visit to the Maester?”

Not wanting to disclose the news of her pregnancy just yet, Maera simply replied, “Mm-hmm.” Before Aemond could delve further, she redirected the conversation, asking, “How is your head?”

Aemond, propping himself up on his elbow, allowed the sheet to slide further down his toned torso as he continued the rhythmic motion of running his fingers up and down Maera's bare arm. A subtle smile graced her face, a silent acknowledgment of the comforting touch.

Leaning down, Aemond whispered into her ear with a seductive edge, his warm breath sending a shudder down her spine,“It is better now that you have returned to our bed.” With gentle care, he moved a strand of her brown hair and pressed a light kiss to the delicate shell of her ear.

The Prince’s lips then descended and pressed firmer to just at the start of her neck, a small smile gracing her face at the feeling. Where her neck met her shoulder, Aemond’s kisses became wetter and more urgent, sucking on the skin so it began to to turn a pale shade of purple. Maera revelled in the feeling, her body reacting on its own as she tilted head back against his shoulder to allow him greater access.

She could feel that familiar ache in her core as he nipped and licked at her shoulder, desperate to forget about the news she had been told and wanted to surrender to the pleasure her husband could give her. Maera’s could feel his now hardened cock digging into her backside and experimentally titled and rolled her hips into him, causing a gasp to leave both of their mouths.

Aemond emitted a silent chuckle before the hand on her arm disappeared beneath the sheets, and made its way to her breast, kneading the flesh and pinching the hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation had Maera rubbing her thighs together in an attempt to find some relief, a noticeable slick of arousal starting to form.

She almost scolded Aemond when he removed his hand from her hardened peak, only for it to drift south and press flat against her stomach. A kiss onto Maera’s shoulder turned into another bite, causing her to gasp once again and arch her back into him. Aemond took full advantage of this, grinding against her once more, harder this time, his cock now slipping between her legs.

Her body was aching with desire, so she began to rock back against him, his length gathering her slick as it glided between her folds. A sleepy moan left the Prince’s lips as he slid the hand on her stomach to rest firmly on her hip, grasping at it as he matched her grinding, a rhythm becoming established. The tip of his cock brushed against her sensitive bundle of nerves, a squeak leaving Maera’s lips as a blush began to coat her cheeks.

Seemingly done with torturing her, Maera felt Aemond grab his length and line it up with her now dripping entrance. Once in place, his hand returned to her hip, and with a swift movement, he pushed himself entirely inside her, a low rumble leaving his chest as he did. The stretch she felt from his cock at this angle was incredible, the familiar sensation of pleasure beginning to bloom as she felt every part of his length nudging against her walls.

Aemond pulled out slowly before immediately thrusting back in, filling her to the hilt, the fingers on her hip digging in so harshly that they were sure to leave bruises. Maera could not help but cry out as his cock hit that spongey spot within her over and over again, the sensation causing her to throw her head back against his shoulder, her eyes closed and jaws slack as she completely surrendered to him, as she always did.

The fucking was deep definitely, thanks to his generously sized manhood, but it was not the usual hard fast pace that Maera was used to. It was slow, steady, almost sensual if you could call it that. It was the type of sex that the poets wrote about; to feel completely at one with the other person, to be so in tune with them that your connection goes beyond mere words. It was beautiful, and although not her preferred type of fucking, it just what she needed at this time.

She was snapped back to the moment when she felt Aemond’s hand move from her hip and dip between her thighs as he continued to thrust deeply into her. The Prince’s long, skilled fingers quickly found her pearl, and began swirling gently around it, causing her to cry out as pleasure began to build in the pit of her stomach. The intensity of the feeling grew as Aemond continued his ministrations and Maera rocked desperately against him, chasing her high. She felt his sweat-covered forehead press against her shoulder, the sound of sighs and soft groans leaving his lips filling her with a sense of pride and excitement.

As the coil wound tighter and tighter in her stomach, her hips began to stutter in their movements, causing Aemond to thrust upwards with greater intensity. After hitting the sensitive spot within her once more, the coil finally snapped with her, causing her to cry out in ecstasy as he fucked her through her peak, her own arousal coating her inner thighs, his cock and his skilled fingers that continued to rub against her bundle of nerves.

The Prince found his release shortly after, letting out a low, contented groan as he spilled his seed within her, ropes of hot white liquid painting the inside of her walls. After a moment of basking in the afterglow of sex, their ragged breaths of exhaustion beginning to slow, Maera felt her chin being grasped by Aemond’s thumb and forefinger. He slowly turned her head and captured her lips on a searing his, their mouths moving in tandem and hearts racing as the fuzzy warmth of pleasure encapsulated them both.

When he pulled away from the kiss, Aemond withdrew his cock, a hiss leaving Maera’s lips as she felt him pull out, a mixture of his seed and her own slick now coating the sheet beneath them. Aemond lay on his back and Maera followed suit, lying flat against the mattress as her bare breasts moved up and down as she took some steadying breaths. She turned her head to look at her husband with a soft smile, who also seemed to be recovering from their passionate encounter, a sheen of sweating covering his body.

With a gentle gesture, she lifted her arm and coaxed him toward her. “Come here,” she whispered gently. Aemond, his furrowed brow revealing a hint of confusion, hesitated. Maera spome once more, a sterner yet playful edge to her voice. “Do not make your Princess ask you again.” After a brief pause, Aemond relented, laying his head against her chest and allowing his hand to come up and cup her breast, causing her to giggle.

As she pressed her nose to his silver head, the scent of leather and dragon smoke, formed a sensory tapestry that spoke of familiarity, comfort, and shared history. In this intimate moment, every worry, including the weight of her pregnancy news, seemed to momentarily dissolve. And Maera was able to recognise a profound connection—one that extended beyond the complexities of royalty, duty, and impending challenges. The rare sight of Aemond laying his head on her chest, exposed a side of the prince not known to anyone else. It stirred a deep affection within Maera, an affection she remembered she had for him when they were young.

She marveled at the strength and warmth emanating from him, and the realization of what she felt for Aemond dawned upon her. This marriage was not merely duty, their past, or even just the lust they shared for each other, but a genuine and profound love. Maera was aware that this made her entirely vulnerable to him, but in this moment she did not care.

Tomorrow's concerns—the looming funeral, the war, her pregnancy, the vulnerability of her affections —all faded into insignificance. In the quiet of the present, the only thing that mattered was the warmth of Aemond against her, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath, and the simple joy of holding each other. It was a moment suspended in time, where the weight of the world momentarily lifted, allowing them to find solace as they were both pulled into sleep.

Notes: Fuck me, I find smut so challenging to write. After editing it so much, it’s not even sexy to me anymore 😅 oh well, I hope y’all enjoy it at least 🖤

Tags: @abecerra611 @blue-serendipity @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena #chapters

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headfullofpresley · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 | 𝟏.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 5,9K

Summary: Elvis doesn't save lives; he takes them. But when it comes to you, he can't help but wanting to save you every time danger lurks around the corner. The reason for it might just change both your lives forever.

Warnings: vampire!Elvis, kind of modern!Elvis ig, strong language, mentions of blood consumption/murder- ya know, vampire shenanigans, Elvis faking his death in '77, reader is suicidal, reader not being completely... human. the cliff hanger kinda sucks, but we'll get there ;) ;)

A/N: soooo, this was supposed to be a simple one shot, requested by my lovely @breadsquash BUT naturally, i got carried away and have decided to turn it into a mini series! so there ya gooo- enjoy, babes. ♡

masterlist

August 16, 1977.

The day time stood still.

Well, except for Elvis and his inner circle that was. The Memphis Mafia had been running around all day- talking to reporters, keeping Elvis out of the public’s eye, all so they could succeed at their little plan in motion. For them, it was little, but for the thousands of mourning fans all over the world it was anything but.

Elvis felt guilty. When he decided to cut a record two decades ago just for the heck of it, he never expected it to throw him on a rollercoaster of stardom. As a vampire, it wasn’t the most convenient profession but he soon found himself getting addicted to the attention of girls that threw themselves at him at any given chance. At the beginning he considered them to be an easy snack- he never even dared to think that he was going to actually care about these people.

Now in 1977, he figured it was time to pack up and move away. Usually it was much easier, seeing the people he surrounded himself with who weren’t vampires would simply die of old age or a gnarly disease that tore down the human body. The goodbyes were never easy, but for obvious reasons, this one was the hardest.

It was unevitable, though. He wasn’t getting any older and even though he could stay put for a few more years, he was getting bored. He loved making music and he loved getting to know his fans, but he wanted something else. A new environment, new people, a new life.

His soul craved it.

“Are we staying for the funeral, EP?” Joe asked softly from the door opening of Elvis’ bedroom, looking at the frame of the older vampire standing in front of the window to peek at the chaos that had ensued outside.

Elvis knew it was all an act on their behalf, but the screams and cries from his fans outside of the gate once they got the news were real.

“You can, I’m not,”

Joe nodded, scratching the back of his head- he knew it’d probably be best if he and the rest of the Mafia stayed around for a little while, as to not raise any suspicion.

“Where to next?” the smaller male broke the silence that lingered in the room, stepping toward the window as well.

Elvis sighed softly, dropping the curtain from his grip to let it fall back in its place before he turned around and grabbed his coat that he put next to his suitcase, shrugging it on. “Japan,” he told his friend, a small smile on his face. “Good thing I survive on blood and not fish, though.”

Joe laughed softly, taking Elvis’ suitcase from the bed before slapping Elvis’ arm and walking out of the room, moving his former boss' luggage to the car that waited for the singer near the small part of woods behind Graceland.

Elvis released another sigh, a deeper one this time, as he looked around his bedroom for the last time. This place held so many memories- both good and bad, and he sure was going to miss this place. But that was all it was.. a place. A shell that portrayed a home. Having to move away every few decades, Elvis learned to not get too attached to material things- or at least, he tried to. Because vampires didn’t have steady homes, no matter how much they’d like to.

He stepped out of his room, holding onto the door knob. He saluted the Maria statue next to his bed, chuckling to himself before shaking his head at his own antics and closing the door behind him. This time, for the last time.

Japan was a dream. People who said New York didn’t sleep obviously never went to Tokyo- it was a vampire’s playground. With the city being so crowded, too crowded, it was easy for people to go missing. Everyone was so busy focusing on their own lives that nobody batted an eye, nobody looked out for each other in the big Metropolitan.

While Elvis’ name was known worldwide, nobody seemed to recognize him. With his immortality and hunger for blood came also the ability to shapeshift, so he looked nothing like he did back in ’77- a form he took on to make the public think he wasn’t doing well, which had been all part of his plan. Instead he opted for how he looked back in 1957-ish, an era of his Japan wasn’t too familiar with and if they did, nobody ever mentioned anything to him.

The excitement of Tokyo quickly wore off for him. The biggest reason for it was because he felt utterly lonesome. Vampires didn’t run in packs like werewolves did and as an outsider, it was extremely difficult to work your way into an existing clan. Plus, he wasn’t fluent in Japanese and there was only so much karate to do during the day and host clubs to waste time at during the night.

It didn’t take him long to get bored and once more, pack up and leave.

It wasn’t until 2023 that Elvis found his way back to America. After spending most of his time going from city to city and country to country, he figured no place was ever going to feel as close to home as his own country would. It’s been decades and with his fashion choices forced to change to blend in with the crowds, he had hoped nobody would recognize him anymore.

Naturally, he lived in another big city because it meant less people that would pay attention to him and more necks to tear into without anyone giving a damn. He wasn’t particurlarly fond of New York, but with the large vampire population living there and Joe living in the city as well, Elvis decided to stay and settle- for as long as time would allow him to.

With Joe owning a bar that made it possible for vampires and humans to mingle away from prying eyes, Elvis became a full blown bartender- something he had never pictured himself doing ever, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Joe had always been there for him when the spotlight was on him and this way, he could return the favor and the job also prevented him from rotting away out of boredom in the penthouse he compelled himself. He loved making small talk with customers and explaining the very sophisticated feeding system Joe came up with to the humans, but he needed more.

He needed someone by his side who he could share his thoughts and worries with. Someone who he could show his literal soul to, someone to take care of rather than the human girls that never left his home alive or the young vampire girls that were running around the city thinking they were above everyone else.

It was all so superficial, so fake- he needed something real. Joe managed to find it, why wasn’t the universe giving him the same?

The universe was working hard to push you and Elvis into each others’ direction, but it proved to be a near impossible task.

With him being an immortal being that had cheated his way through life and you being a young adult that was trying to survive by working a shitty job, you didn’t run in the same circles.

To be frank, you didn’t run in any circles. Aside from being courteous to your co-workers at coffee shop you worked at, you didn’t have any friends. You always told yourself you didn’t mind being alone, that you preferred it, but you couldn’t fool yourself any longer.

You were lonely and miserable.

You were at that damned coffee shop most hours of the day and when you weren’t, the shoe box sized apartment you rented wasn’t very exciting to come home to either. You had lost your parents a long time ago at the age of 13 and the more time dragged by, the more you simply did not want to be here anymore.

You didn’t have anyone to miss nor anyone to miss you, so your mind was set- sometimes there just wasn’t another way out and while death sounded scary to most people, it was a peaceful thought to you.

The cold air nipped at your cheeks harshly, your hands having lost its feeling a while ago as they were gripping onto the steel railing of the bridge. It was the end of February, so New York was absolutely freezing, but the weather hardly bothered you anymore.

You lost track of time so if anyone would ask you how long you had been standing on the side of the Brooklyn Bridge, staring down at the dark East River below you, you couldn’t give them an answer. The river that would swallow you whole and take you to a better place looked inviting, but also very.. very cold. Still, you had your mind made up- you weren’t going to change it. You were doing this… as soon as you managed to move a muscle and let go of the railing that was.

Because even though your brain was telling you this was the right decision, your heart was racing as snakes coiled in the pit of your stomach. You were nervous, you were scared… what if this wasn’t the right decision? What if there was more to life? You were only twenty three years old, you still had enough time to explore the world. Get out of this city and make something of your life, be someone- but how? You barely had enough money to pay your rent on time and have a decent meal every day.

You were so distracted by your inner turmoil that you didn’t hear footsteps coming closer. It was three in the morning and while New York was a lively city, people didn’t exactly hang out on the Brooklyn Bridge in the middle of the night, especially not in this weather.

As soon as a voice spoke up and broke your train of thoughts, you snapped your head to your right as your hands gripped onto the railing a little harder, making sure you were still standing steady.

“My, that’s a mighty long fall,” the dark haired guy that appeared next to you said with a nonchalant sigh, his arms leaning on the railing as he looked down at the river.

Your first thought was to ask him if he was some kind of nut job- while the rest of the city was clothed in thick puffer jackets to hide from the cold, he was only wearing a thin button up shirt and a brown jacket. The jacket as well as some of the buttons of his shirt were left open, collar popped up. Then your eyes traveled down to his pants and shoes- well fitted fabric and a pair of black Chelsea boots. It wasn’t like he looked completely out of place with his fashion choices, but it had been a while since you’d seen a guy his age who was dressed this well.

“Kinda cold for a swim, don’t ya think?”

The soft Southern accent that he spoke with didn’t go unmissed by your ears but you barely had time to think about where this stranger must be from when a gush of wind brought you back to reality.

Clearing your throat a little, you looked back at the water again. “I’m not going for a swim,”

Obviously.

Elvis was aware that wasn’t your intention- besides the fact that he wasn’t an idiot, he could also hear your heart racing and your subconscious crying out for help. You were in a vulnerable position, but as he tried to dig into your mind a little deeper, he found himself being blocked out. Strange- you weren’t letting him in. Not a lot of humans knew how to shut out a vampire, nor their abilities.

He didn’t think too much of it for now.

Elvis usually stayed as far away from situations like this as possible- humans were his main source of food. He was usually the one taking their lives, not saving it.

“It’s a hit or miss- you might die, you might not,” he shrugged, folding his hands together as he was still leaning his forearms on the railing, turning his head to look at you. “You’re lucky if the fall takes you out. Drowning is a.. terrible way to go, honey, believe me- you might think it’s a quick death, but nuh-uh. You’ll be down there and seconds feel like hours, not to mention that you can literally feel your throat closing up and filling with water, if you don’t swim up. Basic human reaction, you know? And then it’ll all be for nothing and all you’re left with is wet clothes and having to ride the subway home with a horrible stench around you,”

You turned your head to look back at him again while he was in the middle of talking but now that he was done, you couldn’t do anything but gawk at him. Yup, total nut job and not only because of his thin jacket.

“I know how it works, thanks,” you snapped at him, flashing him a sarcastic smile before looking back down and inhaling a sharp breath of air. “Weirdo,” you whispered to yourself, unaware that he could hear you perfectly fine. As well as the sound of your heart beating frantically against your ribcage, even more so than before.

You were trying to look distant, casual, as if his words didn’t bother you at all but the truth was that he had only made you doubt your decision more. Drowning sounded scary and painful as hell and you had no idea what would happen to you when you’d hit the water, until he told you just now.

He could feel you gradually growing more nervous- it practically radiated off of you in waves.

“What made you choose a bridge? There’s more peaceful ways to go,”

“If you’re trying to.. to.. s-save me or whatever, you’re doing a shit job,” you gritted through your teeth, hoping your voice came out steady and confident which to your own ears it did but to his, definitely not.

He let out a soft laugh- it sounded rich and deep, it was a pleasant sound. “I’m not- jus' making conversation. Curious what drove you to this point,”

Suddenly, you felt silly. You didn’t know if it was because the stranger next to you was acting so casually while you were nearly hanging off a bridge or because you were slowly starting to have second thoughts. Maybe your life wouldn’t turn out so bad after all if you’d just give it a chance and actually live it.

“Life just.. sucks, okay?” you told him, heaving a deep sigh out of frustration. As you looked at him and he looked at you, for whatever reason you couldn’t stop the word vomit from coming out. “I wish I could say my life was one big shit show but that would mean things would actually happen in it- my life is useless. I am useless. I’m alone in a city that I hate, wasting my days away at a job that definitely doesn’t pay me enough and I’m just done. I’m done with it all,”

You tore your gaze away from him, your fingers clenching around the railing firmer while tears stung in your ears. If he’d comment on it, you could always blame the wind.

“Everyone is lonely sometimes, honey- that’s life. You shouldn’t throw yours away. Why don’t you try finding a better job first?”

Apparently, he really wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t trying to save your ass. You felt yourself getting angry at his words- who the hell was this guy? You didn’t need some stuck up asshole telling you what you already knew.

“What do you even know about it? You don’t know me. You’re the kind of guy who’s friends with probably half of the city, you don’t know shit about loneliness,” you spat at him, trying to turn around to get your point across and look him straight in the eye. Instead, your foot slipped and almost like your body had a mind of its own, your hands let go off the railing.

The panicked scream that left you rang in Elvis’ ears. Your body never hit the water and as you opened your eyes, the stranger was the cause of that- he held onto your arm as he leaned further over the railing himself, reaching his other arm out to you as well.

You looked behind you, the dark river suddenly looking like nothing but a black hole that was waiting to swallow you down. You didn’t want your end to be like that- didn’t want to become a crying ghost of a helpless girl on the Brooklyn Bridge because nobody ever found her body.

God, you needed to stop watching those ghost hunting shows.

Looking back up at the dark haired man, you grabbed his other hand too, holding onto him tightly. Elvis didn’t come onto the bridge tonight with the plan to save a suicidal girl’s life- he merely needed some time alone and have a cigarette on top of the bridge while enjoying the view. But as he saw the pleading look in your eyes, he realised you didn’t want this at all. You wanted to live.

And for whatever reason, he wanted you to as well.

Before you knew it, he had lifted you up and back over the railing. Because of your panicked state, you hadn’t even noticed he put no effort into it or whatsoever, as if you were as light as a feather. He kneeled down in front of you as you sat on the asphalt, leaning against the railing of the bridge.

“I know more about loneliness than you think, little girl,” he gave you a gentle smile, caressing some strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re still young, you’re going to get what you want out of life- a nice job, a better apartment, friends to spend your time with. Tonight never happened. You were out for a late night walk on your own and then you went home.”

You had no idea if you were tripping because of the shock that was still coursing through your entire body and you had no idea if this guy was on any type of drug, but you could’ve sworn you saw the size of his pupils widening a little before they returned to their usual state. It looked.. abnormal.

Elvis didn’t give you the chance to respond- before you could, he was already gone and you were left with confusion and a weird feeling in your stomach.

You did went home that night, but you hadn’t forgotten about him. You hadn’t forgotten the words he spoke- in fact, you had been thinking about them every second of the day, every day. The first logical thought that came to mind was that he was some kind of weirdo, some old money kid that had too many zeros on his bank account and didn’t know what else to do with it other than experiencing with drugs.

There was no other explanation for the things he told you and the way his eyes seemed to shift so unnaturally.

It’s been two weeks since that night on the bridge and while your mental state hadn’t improved, you weren’t thinking of taking your own life so much anymore. Rather, your mind was filled with him.

He was a weirdo, that was for sure, but he had also peaked your interest. He was on your mind 24/7, which was definitely not normal, but you couldn’t help yourself- you wanted to see him again, talk to him again. Maybe, just maybe, a friendship was in the cards for you two. God knows you could use a friend in this damned city.

Unfortunately for you, this damned city was big. Finding a person you’ve only seen once in the middle of the night on the Brooklyn Bridge was like looking for a needle in a haystack. You felt like a fool walking around places in New York you usually didn’t go to- but what other options did you have?

Give up and go on with your life, maybe- your brain told you, but you weren’t planning to listen to the little nagging voices in your head.

He didn’t seem like the type of person to come into a coffee shop to type the hours away on a laptop, which you realised soon enough when you kept getting distracted at work, daydreaming that he would walk in. And you had no idea where he hung around- maybe he didn’t even live in the city.

Disappointed but not surprised, you made your way onto the platform to wait for the subway that would take you back to your side of town. It was late- you’d been wandering around sketchy neighborhoods after work and lost track of time, and the platform was eerily quiet. Too quiet for your liking, making you a little nervous.

You should’ve listened to your gut when it told you to get back on the street and surround yourself with people, but it was already too late when you noticed a few guys stumbling onto the platform. They made their presence known by being loud and they especially made it known that they had seen you- they didn’t hold back on the wolf whistles and were even as bold as to approach you, asking where you were going and tugging at your purse that you had clamped under your armpit. You kept quiet, trying to create distance without them noticing but when they did, it seemed to anger them.

They got more persistent and more aggressive and as one of them suddenly got hold of your purse’s strap and yanked you toward him, he was yanked backwards with even more force.

Before you knew it, your three assaulters were laying on the floor, scrambling backwards to the stairs as another figure stood in front of them. You only saw the back of his head, but your heart leaped in your chest- as he spoke, you heard the soft Southern accent that you hadn’t been able to forget about. Your adrenaline was too high to hear what he was saying, but it made the guys quickly get back to their feet and run up the stairs.

“Go home, Brooklyn. Your train’s here,” the stranger you had been hopelessly looking for for weeks looked at you. He seemed more serious than he was that night on the bridge, his facial expression oddly pained. You opened your mouth but no words came out- it didn’t matter because as the train came thundering into the station and your hair flew in your face, he was already gone.

Now, the rational part of your brain figured you were never going to see him again. It was unrealistic to fantasize about a stranger you knew nothing about- for all you knew, he could be a total creep, a murderer even. But there was a part in your brain, a part in your soul, that couldn’t shake him. Even more than before, he took up your every waking thought and you just weren’t willing to give up.

Not yet.

The next time you saw him was even more unexpected than the last. You wouldn’t say you were a clumsy person, but luck never seemed to be on your side either- when you almost got run over by a taxi while making your way home from work, you saw him again. Standing across the street, his facial expression seemed once more pained- perhaps, even a little angry. While people around him rushed to cross the street and the cab driver had rolled his window down to scream at you, you could only stare at your favorite stranger.

“Walk.”

Now that startled you. It wasn’t the little voice in your head talking to you, it wasn’t your own inner dialogue- it was his voice. There was an urgency in his voice and although you were freaking out on the inside, your feet dragged you forward. Closer and closer to where you wanted to go, who you wanted to go to. But just before you could reach him, someone ran in front of you to try and make the green light and once more, the raven haired mystery man had vanished into thin air.

You looked around and then behind you, your eye catching those of the cab driver that almost knocked you off your socks. He flipped you off for good measure before driving off and you didn’t even think to give him a response, which was unusual for you.

Cussing out terrible drivers, especially cabs, was one of your favorite things to do- but right now, your mind was too busy with cooking up a little plan. Maybe not a very good one, but it was worth a try.

Elvis knew what you were up to before you even set your little plan in motion. For the past few days, you had been getting yourself in trouble, making him show up and prevent you from seriously getting hurt. He didn’t know what it was about you, but he knew there was something.

His compulsion hadn’t worked on you because you still seem to recognize him. On that night on the bridge, you were like a closed book- your brain was like the freaking Davinci code. He couldn’t crack it for the life of him. Humans usually did a shit job at closing off their thoughts to other species, because most of them were simply not aware of their existence, but with you it was just impossible.

Until that night you were in the subway station. It was like he could hear you screaming for him- granted, he knew about your whereabouts all the time because he had been following you and keeping an eye on you, but he didn’t think you’d find yourself in actual danger. He was planning on eventually talking to you, maybe try to compel you to forget about him once more to see if it’d take this time- he didn’t plan to follow some little human girl around and be her own personal savior.

But he couldn’t stop himself. He found himself wanting to save you.

When he stopped the taxi just mere inches before it’d hit you and succeeded in communicating with you with his mind, he knew you weren’t like any other human.

There was no other explanation for it; part of you wasn’t human, but he wasn’t so sure you were aware. And he had no idea if it was his place to tell you about it.

“If you tell her, boss, her life will change forever. This isn’t something to take lightly. You know how most vampires feel about halflings, hybrids- whatever the heck they’re called these days,”

Elvis sighed softly as he held up his hand, sitting down across from Joe who was sitting at his desk in his little office at the bar. “We’ve talked about this, I work for you now,” Joe laughed softly at Elvis’ words, nodding as his face turned serious again, waiting for him to continue. “That’s what I’m worried about. Not all vampires are as accepting as we are- if they find her, they’ll dissect her like a damn science project. If I bring her here, into our circle, there’ll be trouble knockin’ on the door in no time,”

Joe folded his hands on the desk and sighed deeply, thinking it over. He knew just as well as Elvis that the supernatural society in New York would get word of what you were if Elvis brought you into this world and if so, vampires from other cities and even states would most likely not be able to stay away.

You were a rare specie- so rare that it was still strange, maybe even scary, to other vampires. There were only so much people like you wandering around and most of them weren’t actually aware of what they were or what they could and could not do. Vampires weren’t aware either, hence the need to use people like you as lab rats. The most common thought about the specie was that their blood could cure vampirism, which wasn’t very far-fetched. It was a possibility, but Elvis couldn’t imagine the procedure of taking your blood was a pretty picture.

He didn’t want you to go through that.

Compared to a few weeks ago, he wanted to be your savior. He was starting to care.

“Bring her here,” Joe said, making Elvis look up from gazing at his daylight ring around his finger. Joe smiled, his brown eyes soft as they smiled along- it was a genuine one, which took some worries off Elvis’ shoulders. “We’ll take care of her like she is one of our own. You and I both know how cruel the world is, especially the one we live in- she doesn’t sound like she deserves to find that out by herself. Bring her here, EP,”

Elvis hated how it felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He barely knew you, he wasn’t supposed to care… not this much. But for the first time in a long time, it felt like he had lost just a little bit of control over his feelings. Love was a tricky thing when you were human and even more so when you were not; maybe this time he didn’t need to lock up his heart to not get it broken anymore.

Thanking Joe, he made his way out of the bar and back onto the streets with a lame little excuse that he needed to take care of something. Which was the truth, he just didn’t want Joe to know what it was exactly.

He had heard you calling out to him, channeling him, the entire time he was in the office. Ever since the taxi accident, you had been getting yourself in trouble on purpose. He knew you were doing it on purpose and he knew why- it was when you found yourself in danger, that he’d show himself to you. You had no idea how he always managed to find you, but he did and your need to see him was so big that you got yourself in situations you’d never think to find yourself in.

Elvis found himself pushing through the crowd of New York’s largest vampire nightclub in midtown Manhattan. Masquerade was owned by a couple of big name vampires in the supernatural world and let’s just say, the Southern vampire wasn’t very fond of them and neither were they of him. He did not want to be here and he definitely did not want you to be here- it was dangerous for humans, even more so dangerous for you if anyone found out what you were. Which they would if they’d sink their teeth into you.

Seeing you standing in the middle of the dancefloor, sandwiched between two bloodsuckers, he groaned to himself and didn’t hesitate to make his way over to you. One could simply think you were having fun and although you didn’t think you were in actual danger, he knew better.

When he grabbed your arm and pulled you out from between the two other men and into his chest, he could smell the sweet scent of cocktails on your breath and see the intoxicated haze in your eyes.

“You’re here!” you grinned goofily at him, shamelessly wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him. Elvis ignored how his undead heart felt like it skipped a beat and placed his hand on the back of your head, pushing it into his chest to prevent you from seeing his vampiric face when he gave the other two vampires a warning glare.

You were probably too drunk to notice, anyways.

You didn’t stop him when he took you out of the club and just smiled at him with your eyes closed, swaying back and forth on the heel of your pumps as he draped his jacket around your shoulders. It was the same brown one he wore on the bridge.

Elvis made sure your cleavage wasn’t visible to him, because now was not the time to get distracted. He tried to get you to walk further away from the club with him but you gently pushed him off and leaned against the brick wall of the building.

“You’ve gotten.. b-better at it, you know?” you hiccuped, rolling your head against the wall as a giggle escaped you. You slowly opened your heavy eyes, looking at him.

He raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the way you were slurring your words. Seemed like the human part of you couldn’t handle her liquor so well.

“Better at what?”

“Saving me,” you sighed deeply, almost dreamily; you grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket, snuggling into the fabric while inhaling his scent.

It was a very… manly scent. Fresh, but strong. Manly. You liked it.

“I remember the night on the bridge.. like it was yesterdaaaay!” you sang, laughing loudly which made some people look and chuckle at you. Elvis took a step closer to you, putting his hand on the wall next to your head to create at least a bit of privacy. You looked up at him and grinned, poking his chest with your finger softly. “You said you weren’t trying to save me back then, but you were. You like saving me,”

He could stand here for another hour and entertain you with jokes and smart remarks, but he wasn’t going to. You were drunk and vulnerable and you were surrounded by curious vampires who suddenly weren’t so eager to get in the club anymore but rather see what was happening between you and him. Knowing what you were, or rather assuming what you were, his paranoid brain was warning him that everyone else knew as well.

He needed to get you out of here.

“You’re drunk- let’s go. I’m not done saving you,”

You chuckled at his words and followed his gaze toward some people waiting in line to get inside. Suddenly, it seemed like all their eyes were on you and even in your drunken state, it made your skin crawl. You allowed him to wrap his arm around you and take you away from the crowd, stumbling on your heels a little.

“Okay, Elvis, let’s go,” you smiled at him and he frowned as he looked down at you, letting out a small laugh. It sounded awkward, nervous. “You look like him- Elvis Presley. But he was hotter, sorry,” you said, giving him an innocent little shrug of your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” he laughed softly, shaking his head as he held you into his side a little more firm before your wobbly legs would give out underneath you and you’d fall face first on the pavement. “Let’s get you sobered up, little giraffe,”

You gasped, trying to sound offended but you couldn’t hold back the laugh that tickled at the back of your throat.

You didn’t tell him your name and neither did he ask for it- it could wait until tomorrow.

taglist: @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @woundmetender @returntoelvis @prayerstopresley @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @wonka-gifs @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @septembersghost

If you even still knew who you were tomorrow.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis angst #elvis presley angst #vampire!elvis #tamwrites

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 5 months

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wip wednesday, sorta - the story i've been noodling with has hit i think a pause point in that an idea emerged in drafting that i think might call for some major revamping, and i gotta marinate on it for a while before committing, which is sort of annoying but also sort of a relief since i do actually also really want to be able to turn my focus back to the fic i was in the middle of, lol. but here's a little of the non-fic thing i've been writing:

After the funeral, I came home. Each sound seemed perversely amplified: the tectonic friction of the key in the lock, the batwing smack of my purse against the wall, the strangled thunder of my boots on the wooden floor. The apartment felt insurmountably empty. I could not imagine how I would live here alone.

I hadn’t washed the sheets since the accident. It occurred to me—truthfully for the first time—that this could not go on forever. That one day I would have to fall asleep in a bed that no longer smelled like David. That there were little pieces of him here with me, clusters of dead cells that had once been his, and I would be the one to cast them out. I fell into bed with my shoes on and cried myself nauseous, howling to wake the dead until my body gave out.

When I woke up, it was dark out and there was a glass of water on my nightstand that I couldn’t remember getting. I sat up to drink it, confused and half-asleep still, with a headache from crying.

David was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with a sheepish smile. He wiggled his fingers in a goofy wave. Hey, babe.

I screamed.

So it’s definitely been an adjustment. I don’t want to undersell that. What he’s doing, it’s not the same as coming back from the dead. Death is death—you can’t turn back the clock. It’s just a little more permeable sometimes than I had assumed. That’s a lot to process, in and of itself. I still wake up alone, just like I would have if he’d stayed; manifesting takes a lot of energy, so he usually doesn’t bother when I’m asleep. The whole corporeality thing is kind of touch-and-go, too—pun intended, forgive me, because it’s been a rough couple months and sometimes you have to make your own fun.

And David—it changes you, dying. It would be stupid to expect it not to. Yes, he’s a little more subdued than he was before. A little less adventurous, a little more unreliable. But he’s not even sure he can leave the apartment. And our spreadsheets have yet to evince any kind of pattern to what we’ve taken to calling his signal. (Even that is a simplification: sometimes it acts like cell service, flickering in and out for its own inscrutable reasons, and other times it’s more like a battery, drained by exertion and taking time to restore.) More importantly, he’s still David. He’s still curious and kind; he still loves Leonard Cohen and heist movies. He still plugs in my heating pad when I’m doubled over from cramps, and he still makes me laugh. It’s not nothing, to live through the worst of all possible things and still come home to someone who makes you laugh.

In some ways it reminds me of that first pandemic year. I’m still going to work this time, but of course he’s not, so whenever I’m home, there he is. We hadn’t lived together long when it hit; those strange, sad, death-suffused months were what turned our fourth-story walk-up into a place that meant each other. It’s not so different now. We’re learning the new shape of ourselves in a state of close proximity and existential upheaval. My friend Laura and her husband just had their first baby. From what she tells me, our situation isn’t so different from that, either.

#writing tag #wip wednesday

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balmacedapascal · 2 years

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told you i was coming back for more! 🧡 "i need you here" for the married rhaewin verse, if you're feeling like it? 🥺🥺🥺

(tw: mentions of pregnancy and fears about childbirth, references to miscarriages and the struggles Aemma had, this takes place when Rhaenyra is pregnant with Jace)

The feel of cold sheets under his arm was enough to pull Harwin from sleep, his hand searching the other half of the bed for his wife. He pushed himself up when he realized the bed was empty. Not for the first time in recent nights, Rhaenyra was pacing the room, her movements slowing the further along in her pregnancy she got. The maester was certain it wouldn't be much longer before the babe was born and the closer she got to the birth the more restless she'd become. For the most part, he took it all in stride, doing what he could to reassure her and comfort her. But his knowledge failed him at times, particularly at these moments when his mind was still clouded with sleep and her emotions were particularly frazzled.

"I think if you keep that up much longer, you might leave a pattern on the stone from where you've walked," he mumbled, pushing his hair back as he moved to stand. The look she gave made it clear she wasn't amused by him or his jokes, just continuing with her pacing. "You need your rest, love. And since you won't rest during the days, night seems to be the best time to get that rest."

"I can't rest. Every time I lay down I'm reminded of the child growing in me. I feel like I'm bigger than Vhagar my stomach has grown so large. And any time I stay put for longer than five minutes some lady from court whether she's met me before or not will offer me horrid advice about giving birth and raising the child and it makes me want to scream. And when I am finally left alone and finally comfortable enough to sit or lay down for any amount of time all I can think of is...is my mother. Of what she went through."

Any quip he had vanished at the words, the quiet whisper of fear that he'd never heard her admit before. There was an ache in his chest when he finally spotted it, the look of fear in her eyes that he'd been blind to before. And without another moment's hesitation, he'd stood from the bed and crossed the room to her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

She stayed tense for a moment before giving in, letting herself lean fully into him. It was muffled but he could still hear as she mumbled against his chest, "You've been busy with your men and I didn't - I don't like you thinking me weak. The blood of Aegon the Conqueror shouldn't be frightened by the birthing bed."

"Rhaenyra," he started, hands cupping her face and tilting it up so he could see her better. "I'd never think you weak. Never. And I'm sure Aegon the Conqueror would've feared the birthing bed as well if he'd been the one in it instead of his wives."

The faintest hint of a smile broke through her somber expression and he clung to it as best he could, pressing his forehead to hers and reaching down to let his hand rest on the swell of her belly. Her next words were whispered, almost as if she said them any louder they'd be overheard. "For years I watched my mother suffer through miscarriages and stillbirths. At least six children lost that I know of and her mother before died in the birthing bed as well. All I can see when I close my eyes blood soaked sheets and a tiny bundle on a funeral pyre and it leaves me filled with this dread that I just - I can't make go away. I've tried but no matter what this fear has wormed its way in me and will not let go."

They stood there together, minutes passing as he held her and tried to think of what to say. Any reassurances seemed useless. He hadn't known her mother but he'd heard her speak of what had happened that led to her death. And he remembered his father's second wife dying after a day and a half of labor, leaving behind his father with a new daughter to raise alongside him and Larys, alone once more. He'd be lying if he claimed there hadn't been a hint of worry in the back of his mind that something might go wrong. But none of that mattered now.

"I won't make you promises that everything will be perfect," he told her, breaking the silence they'd been sharing. "We've never lied to one another and I won't start that now. We both know childbirth can be as bloody as a battle. But you have to know that there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe. I need you here with me the way I need air in my lungs. And I'd fight the Stranger himself if he tried to take you from me before we've had a lifetime together."

Her smile was watery but a bit of the fear he'd seen in those violet eyes had receded and he was quick to press a loving kiss to her lips. It was chaste, affectionate but simple before she pulled away to look up at him. "You truly are the best of men, Harwin."

He smiled in return, his hands finding her and slowly leading her back to their bed in hopes of getting her some much needed sleep while she could.

#harwin x rhaenyra #rhaenyra x harwin #hotd fanfic #rhaewin fanfic #harwin strong #fandom: asoiaf #show: hotd #chara: harwin strong #chara: rhaenyra targaryen #ship: harwin x rhaenyra #mine*#mywriting*

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unloved-cadillac · 1 year

Note

hello caddy so um sum shit happened and i need comfort😭im so sorry for asking u this but um could do uh reader x sukuna ,reader crying over her aunts death (she had cancer last stage but my mom said dat they dont kno if its blood cancer or sum else but it was def cancer) and just comfort. ive known her for more than 10y i still cant believe she died my heart just squeezes sm whenever i look at our pics tghter and to think dat we will never see her, again im so sory plz no pressure caddy😭 luv u

C/n: my sweet angel. I hope you are okay. I know this is a little late and I apologize for that. Grieving over a lost one is the worst things because one day they’re here and the next they’re gone. Take your time, cry and heal. We are all here for you and I hope this helps you get the comfort you need. I love you so much. Thank you so much for requesting🖤

——————————————————————————

Loss. (Sukuna x Reader)

During work, Sukuna felt this uneasiness feeling hovering over him. Something was off. He put a hand to his forehead to check his temperature but he felt fine. He pulled out his phone and looked at your contact, but he shook his head and put it away. He knew you too were at work and didn’t want to disturb you.

At the end of his work day, he drove home waiting to see you. When he pulled into the driveway, he saw your car outside. Sukuna walked into his house and draped his jacket on the hook. “Babe, I’m home. How was your day?” He asks. No answer. “Babe?” He calls as he walks to your shared bedroom.

He slowly opens the door to see you on the floor, knees up to your chest and head on it. You were shaking. “Y/n?” He called and immediately sat in front of you. “Baby? It’s me. What happened?” Sukuna’s voice was worrying. You slowly looked up and he gasped seeing tears in your eyes.

“She’s gone, Kun. She’s gone.”

Your voice cracked and he took you into his arms. “No.” He whispers and he feels you tighten around him. “I, I got the call just now. I just came home and my mom called. Kun, she’s actually gone. I don’t know what to do.” You cry into his chest and he kisses your forehead. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He says, softly. He let you cry into him until you knocked yourself out. Carefully, he lifted you up and laid you on the bed. He cleaned your face and let you sleep while he made a call to your family to give his condolences.

~~~~

After the funeral, you both came back home and you sat in the couch, pulling out your phone. Sukuna was quick to make you your favorite beverage and laid it on the coffee table before taking a seat next to you.

“Whatchu lookin’ at?” He asks. You show him the pictures of you and your aunt and he smiles. “She always to make such funny faces to make me laugh. My second mother. I’m gonna miss her so much.” You whisper and he wraps his arm around you. “I know. I don’t know much about what happens after death but I know for sure that she’s proud of you and that she’ll be with you right here.” He points to your heart and you hold his hand. “Thank you, Kun.” You say and he gives you a short kiss. “If you want, we can talk about her. Tell me all the funny stories you have of her.”

You smile and begin. You talked for hours, sipping your beverage in between stories and he chuckles whenever you did. “God, I can’t believe she’s really gone. I was really hoping she’d see our kids. For them to know what cool aunt I had.” Sukuna kisses your hand. “Her memory will forever live on because of you. She may be physically gone but spiritually, she’s watching over you. Making sure you’re always safe and sound.” You smile at his words and hug him. “Thank you, Kun. For everything.”

Later that night, you laid next to Sukuna as you slept. He couldn’t sleep so he stared at the ceiling. But he heard you sniff and he quickly turned to you. You were crying and he acted quick and wiped your tears and took you into his arms. “Shh. It’s okay. I’m here.” He whispers and you hold his t-shirt.

Grieving isn’t easy. Take your time and breathe. It’s hard. But it will be okay.

——————————————————————————

“For everyone suffering a loss this holiday, my heart goes out to all of you. I love you guys.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

#sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk anime #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen comfort #sukuna comfort

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buckybraneslover111 · 2 years

Text

Trust No One p.7 - B.B

Warnings: fluff, choking, slapping kink, spitting kink, daddy kink, gun, mention of sex.

a/n: lemme know if this gets too much for y'all, i will tone it down a bit if it is. :)

series masterlist | imagines masterlist | taglist |

"Bucky is awake.."

After a couple of days, Bucky was back at home and fully recovered. Today was the first day of you going back to work in a few weeks, since your dad's funeral. You were in Bucky’s bathroom putting your makeup on. You were nervous to go back, but you needed money. Even though Bucky said he would take care of you, you didnt want drug money, you wanted your own money, clean money. Bucky walks into the bathroom and leans against the door frame.

"Do you have to go? Why cant you just quit and stay here with me? I'll take care of you. You wont have to pay for anything." he pouted looking at you.

You looked at him through the mirror, "I already told you why Buck. I dont want your drug money, i want to earn money the right way. Not illegally. Youll be fine without me for a few hours and you could always come and visit me. Im going bottle service today." you finished your makeup then looked at yourself one more time, before turning around and walking to the door but Bucky stood in front of the doorway. "Buck let me go. Come on im gonna be late." you looked up at him as he shook his head.

"No, youre not going to work dressed like that." he frowned at you.

"Why not? Thats how i make my tips Buck, and its a friday night and im doing bottle service. I will make at least 2,000$ tonight."

"Yeah dressed like a slut you will." he moved out of the way and you walked out of the bathroom shaking your head. "Please change y/n."

"Do you really want me to change? Will it get you to leave me alone? I'm blaming you for me being late, just so you know." you walked to your shared clothes and looked for another outfit.

"That's fine you can blame me." he sat down on his bed, "Why cant you find something that covers you up more?"

"Do you want me to dress like a fucking nun?" you looked back at him.

"Yes, yes i would." he nodded. You shook your head laughing. You grabbed a new outfit and changed into it then walked over to the full length mirror and looked at yourself.

"Better?" you turned to him.

"Yes much better." he nodded, "Daddy approves." you shook your head and grabbed your keys and purse. You walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

"I'll see you later. You can come by if you want too." you smiled as he nodded and kissed your lips. You pulled away and giggles wiping his lips, "You have lipstick on your lips now."

"Its fine babe, ill have something to remember you by." he chuckles.

"Ill see you later. I love you." you smiled walking to the door.

"I love you too."

...

It was a few hours into your shift and you started to miss Bucky. Getting back into the rhythm of things was hard, after being a way for so long, it was like when you first started working at the club. Like it was your first day all over again. You walked to the bar and sighed leaning up against the bar table. It was a somewhat slow start to your night, having it only be 8:30pm. Clint walked over to you and gave you a bottle of water, "Hey, how you hanging in? Still rough coming back after so long?"

You nodded and sipped the water, "Yeah just trying to clear my head. Im glad im back but i still hate when its slow." you sighed, "Like where is everyone? Its a friday night and this place isnt packed like it used to."

He shrugged, "I'm not sure. It will pick up soon, it always does. Once that old bar down the street closes, they will all come here. Just give it another 30 minutes." he smiled and you nodded.

"I'm gonna go take a 10 minute break, ill be back." you walked to the backroom and to your locker. You grabbed your phone and saw a few missed text messages from Bucky.

Buck<3

I miss you already

Me and the guys are gonna come by later

I love you<3

You smiled and replied back to him

you

I love you to

Im taking a quick break in the back

Just text me when you are here <3

Buck<3

We just walked in, getting my table in the back

I requested you baby<3

You smiled and sat down in one of the chairs in the back.

you

Aww you are too kind

Ill be out in a sec

Buck<3

Okay love you<3

you got up and walked to the vanity and fixed your makeup. you looked in the mirror and saw someone standing behind you. you turned around and backed up into the vanity and gulped, "What are you doing here?"

"I found you. i can't believe after all these months of looking for you, i found you."

"Stay away from me. i-i'll call the cops." you looked at this person in fear. they could hurt you in any way possible and you couldn't defend yourself. you didn't have your pepper spray or pocket knife on you. you were screwed.

"But, Lilly, I love you, we were meant to be together." the person stepped closer to you.

"N-No! that's not my name anymore i-i told you this!" you looked up and they were right in your face.

"I finally got you right where I want you."

"N-No no no, Liam please." you started to tear up as he stepped closer to you, "No please Liam. What about Ava? Where is she?" you moved to the side and backed up against the wall as he stepped right in front of you. you started to shake, scared for you life as he reached up and touched your cheek with the back of his hand. you flinched and shut your eyes turning your head away, "Please Liam." you whispered softly as tears started to fall down your cheeks.

"We can finally be together again. you ran away from me once, i can't lose you again. i love you Lilly." he grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer finger turning you towards him and he kisses your lips softly. you don't kiss back and try to turn your head away but he keeps you there.

"Please Liam, just let me go." you whispered against his lips. He hit the wall behind you near your head and looked at you frowning.

"Look at me Lilly!" you shook your head keeping your eyes shut. He grabbed your jaw turning your head to him, "Look at me!!" you started to cry then the door to the break room swung open.

"Y/n? Hey, your tables are waiting for you. you can make out with your boyfriend later let's go!" Kevin, your manager said as he walked out. you pushes away from Liam and wiped your face walking fast out of the break room. Liam hit the wall sighing. you walked to the bar and looked at Clint terrified. he looked at you and walked over to you.

"Y/N you okay?" he rubbed your arm and you shook you head.

"Liam is here. H-He cornered me in the break room. I-I don't know how he found me." you looked around to see if he followed you or if he was around. Liam was your ex boyfriend, well crazy psycho ex boyfriend. he stalked you for months and when uou finally gave him a chance, he turned crazy on you one day. you couldn't take it anymore so you have to move and change your name so he couldn't find you, until today. it had been 2 years since you left him and you couldn't believe he found you after all that time. Your name was Lilly but changed it to y/n, so he couldn't find you on any social media.

Clint hands you a tray with drinks, "Listen, just keep working okay? if i see him i'll have security kick him out okay? these drinks are for Bucky’s table."

you nodded and took the tray walking over to Bucky’s private table. you handed everyone their drinks then looked at Bucky who was staring at you. you handed him his drink and he grabbed your wrist, "Are you okay? What happened? you said 10 minutes."

you nodded, "Y-Yeah sorry, that time of the month. my stomach has been bothering me." you lied but sent him a reassuring smile. he nodded and pulled you down to him kissing you, you kissed back. you pulled away, "I'll be back in a bit." you walked to your other tables and continued to work.

...

after a few minutes, you walked back over to Bucky’s table and cleaned up some of the empty glasses. you looked up and almost dropped one of the cups. sitting next to Bucky was someone you thought you would never see sitting next to him. Liam. He looked right at you and smirked. You looked at Bucky and he was talking to Steve. you went to go grab the cup in front of Liam and he grabbed your wrist and you froze. you looked up at him gulping, "I'm not done with that honey." Bucky looked over at you as liam's grip on your hand got tighter. You let go of the cup and he let go of your wrist. you pulled your hand away quickly and nodded.

"Sorry, can i get you guys anything else?" you looked at Bucky and he shook his head.

"No babe i'm good, what time are you off?" he looked at you.

"Buck she isn't some kind of hooker, she works here." Liam said looking at him. Bucky looks at him and nods.

"Yeah i know, she's my girlfriend that's why i'm asking her." he frowned a little.

"Who's your new friend? i've never met him before." you said softly.

"Oh, this is Liam. Just met him today, he's friends with Markell." he stood up and fixed his pants, "i'm gonna run to the bathroom."

you nodded and walked to the bar giving them the empty cups. Bucky walks up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist, you jumped and turned towards him, "Woah, relax it's just me. are you okay?"

you nodded and turned towards him, "Yeah im fine, just trying to get back into the swing of things you know?"

he nodded and kissed your head, "Alright, well i'm heading out in a few minutes, i have some business to take care of and i'll be back to pick you up."

you looked at the time, "he is going to cut me off at 1am so you can be back for then."

he nodded and kissed your cheek, "i love you i'll see you then." he walked back to his table and you sighed. you couldn't tell him about Liam, he would lose his mind. you. had to playit off as if everything was okay and then wait for the perfect time to tell him.

...

you were the last one in the club, cleaning off the bar. Clint went out with Natasha to the casino and you told him you would close up for him. they both left you there by yourself, Kevin gave you the keys to lock up the doors. you told Bucky not to come pick you up until after 2am. it was currently 1:20am and you just had to finish up with the dishes and clean off the bar.

"Finally some alone time." your head shot up towards the door as you heard it close and lock. you looked at liam and and gulped.

"Liam you can't be in here, i'll call the cops. you need to leave." you went to grab your phone when you heard a click from a gun.

"You know your boyfriend is really stupid for trusting me and giving me a gun you know? because now you can't run away from me." you froze and looked over at him.

"L-Liam, please. Bucky will be here any minute." you sniffled.

"Oh is that what you think? He is a player Lilly. he is probably balls deep in some other girl right now." he laughed walking towards you pointing the gun at you.

"L-Liam.." he pushed you up against the wall and you winced as you hit it hard, "Liam no please." he held the gun to the side of your head and sniffed your hair.

"Mmmm still smells like strawberries. you haven't changed a bit have you?" he looked at you in the eyes as you avoided them at all cost. "Does he fuck you like i do? does he make you feel good like i do, Lilly?"

"Stop Liam, just stop!" you kneed him in the crotch and shoved him away. He groaned and grabbed his crotch falling to his knees.

"O-Oh you fucking bitch!" you grabbed your purse and ran to the front door. You bumped into someone who was standing by the door. You looked up and saw it was Steve.

"Y/N you okay? Whats going on in there?" he looked at you concerned.

"N-Nothing." you quickly shut the door behind you and locked it, "Lets go, wheres Bucky?"

"He is in the car, he is on the phone. He asked me to go see if you were done." he frowned a little.

"Yeah I'm all set. Lets go." you fixed your jacket and walked over to the car getting into the backseat as Steve sat in the driverseat, Bucky in the passanger seat.

"No, no. i told you i need the shipment by 9am today. Its fucking 2:30 in the morning and you are telling me now, you cant get it to me until 2pm. When the fuck were you going to tell me this? When i'm at your front door steps, ready to fucking kill you and your family? Is that what I have to do?!" Bucky’s tone was harsh, "Okay so get me the fucking drugs by 9am, or in about 5 hours ill be at your front door with a loaded shotgun! Do i make myself clear?!" he hung up the phone and sighed, "Fuck!" he turned his head and looked at you smiling, "Hi babe, how was work?"

You looked at him and smiled, "It was fine. Made about 1,300$, so not bad. How was your night?" he reached for your hand and you place your hand in his and he kisses the back of it.

"Thats good baby. You wanna shower when we get home?" he smirked at you.

You nodded and smiled, "Yeah we can, i smell like beer, someone slipped their beer on me today. Can we have a movie night tonight? I wanna watch that new conjuring movie."

He chuckled, "Babe its 3 in the morning, really?"

You pouted, "Please?"

...

You walked upstairs to his room with a bunch of snacks and drinks. You walked into the room and Bucky laughed at you, "What are you doing princess?" you dropped all the snacks on the bed and smiled.

"We are having a movie night like you promised!" you pouted and got on the bed sitting on your knees going through the snacks and grabbing a puff cake and opening it and eating it. Bucky sat up and grabbed a rice cake and ate it and played the movie. You guys were watching the new Conjuring movie, 'The Devil Made Me do it'. You sat back on your knees and watched the movie. Bucky looked at you and stared right at your butt as it sat perfectly on the bed and in your shorts. You had your back to him sitting more in the middle of the bed, while Bucky sat up at the headboard.

"Princess, come over here, I wanna cuddle." he pouts patting the bed next to him.

you turned around looking at him smiling, "But i wanna sit here so i can eat and watch the movie."

he whined pouting, "Pleaseeeee."

you shook your head and giggled, "Fine you big baby!" you turned around and crawled over to him and sit on the side of him cuddling his side. he wrapped his arm around your waist letting his hand rest on your hip. you wrapped one leg around his waist cuddling him watching the movie eating your snack. A scary part in the movie comes on and you jump and cover your face in his neck whining, "Tell me when it's over!" he chuckles at you rubbing your hip.

"It's over. who's the big baby now?" he smirked chuckling.

you slapped his chest pouting, "Hey! i'm not a big baby!"

he laughed, "you just got scared because someone popped up from no where."

you shoved his chest pulling away from him sitting far away, "You are mean."

he shook his head putting his hands behind his head chuckling, "Okay fine sit over there."

You pouted and shook your head, "Asshole." you mumbled rolling your eyes.

"What? What did you say?" he looked over at you and frowned. You ignored him. "Hey! What did you say?" he reached his hand out to you and you pulled away from him turning your back to him ignoring him. "Princess, you better answer me or you are going to regret ignoring me." you got up and sat at the bottom of the bed on your knees sitting back on them watching the movie. "Thats it." he grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you back towards him. You squirmed in his grip and whined as he laid down ontop of you pinning your arms to the bed, "Did you call me an asshole?!"

"Oh, so you did hear what i said. Why did you ask if you already knew?" you frowned at him and trying pulling away from him, "Bucky get off of me, im mad at you."

"God you are such a fucking brat! Why are you giving me such an attitude today? What did i do to you?" he frowned at you.

"Bucky get off of me. I want to watch the movie." you tried to stay calm.

"No, not until you-..." you cut him off by spitting in his face. He grabbed you by the throat squeezing it. "Did you just fucking spit on me?!" you saw anger and lust in his eyes as he squeezed on your neck, as you gasped for air grabbing onto his wrist. he pressed his covered crotch against your core as you felt him grow hard. Your pussy getting wet soaking your panties as he got close to your face.

"Bu-Buck..I-I..." he loosened his grip on your neck but kept his hand there as you sucked in air.

"You just spit in my fucking face! Why?! What did i do to deserve that princess?! Hmm?! Tell daddy why you spit in his face?!" he slapped your cheek lightly, trying to see how far he could push you, then grabbed your chin making you look at him. You gasped when he slapped you and looked at him.

"Because youre an asshole!" you spat back at him.

"Why am I an asshole!?"

"You called me a big baby and i-i'm not! and you're being mean to me!" you blushed as he slapped your cheek again, not too hard but good enough. you whined and looked in his eyes as he got close to your face.

"You wanna see mean? I'll show you mean!" he grabs his belt unbuckling it and pulling it through the hoops. he grabs both of your wrists pinning them above your head and he ties the belt around your wrist tight. you whine looking at him pouting.

"No! No Bucky please!" you pouted, "I'll be a good girl daddy!"

he shook his head chuckling, "Too late for that now princess. You have your safe word, you can use it if you need to." he pulls off your shorts and panties and shoves your panties into your mouth to muffle your noises. you looked at him in fear. you knew he wouldn't push you too far but just enough to get you to listen. but you wanted to push his limits, see how far you could get him to be rough with you. you reached down with both hands and pulled your panties out of your mouth and throwing them on the bed. he watched you do it and shook his head, "Big mistake princess. you are so going to regret that." he grabbed your wrists and ties the belt to the headboard and you whined.

"Bucky! Come on! I promise ill be good!" you pouted.

"Shut up. One more word and ill shove my dick in your mouth to shut you up." he takes off his pants and his boxers. You whined watching him turning your head to the side. "Hey, hey princess. Look at me." he grabbed your chin turning your head towards him as you looked into his eyes, "You okay?"

You nodded, "Y-Yes."

You heard a banging on the door and Bucky covered you both with the blankets, "Who is it?!"

"Buck, its Steve! We have a problem!"

Bucky sighed and untied your hands and put his boxers on. He got off the bed and walked to the door opening it, "What happened?"

"FBI stopped the shipment of supplies. They are searching the boat right now, Ricko just called me." Steve sighed.

"Fuck! Alright, let me get dressed. We have to go down there before they find them." he shut the door and you sat up looking at him pouting, "Im sorry y/n, i have to go deal with that. I promise ill be back to help you." you covered yourself with the blanket and nodded.

"Okay." you pouted and he walked over to you kissing your pout.

"I love you princess, ill be back, i promise."

"I love you too." you smiled.

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

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lytters · 2 years

Text

4:38am || a. mina

warning(s): implied death, kinda dark thoughts?, mentions of death

you have always known you when you were going to die. you didn’t know just how much you’d have to leave behind.

it’s an unfortunate quirk to have, to see someone and know when they’ll die. such a heart wrenching, soul crushing, useless quirk. the only thing it’s good for is preparing you for the worst.

your mother dies when you’re eight, but that’s okay, you’ve known that since you were four. your father goes mere weeks past your thirteenth birthday, and you’re fine too. you’ve been expecting it. you know a child shouldn’t be this desensitized, this detached from the loss of her parents, but you’re no longer a child, not when your innocence, your naivety has been long stripped away.

you’ve had years to prepare for your death now. you’ve saved up enough to cover the costs of your funeral so that your grandmother won’t have to struggle financially. the funeral has been planned, the plot has been bought, and all that’s left is for you to die.

when you were twenty-one, you promised yourself to live like everyday was your last day. you never thought that would lead you to where you are now, staring at the moon from pro-hero pinky’s balcony at 4:38am, where your heart knows her more fondly as mina.

it’s easy to see death as just another phase of life when you have nothing to lose. but when your world, your life has shifted to encapsulate and revolve around a singular, wonderfully imperfect being, death seems more like an enemy.

here, where the sun has yet to rise, where the city is still asleep, your heart breaks for everything you’ll come to lose.

“babe? what’re you doin’ ou’ here?” you can hear the yawn in mina’s voice as the balcony door swings out. she moves to stand in front of you, rubbing her eyes gently. the moonlight is a reverent admirer, casting a gentle glow onto her. not even the night can take away from her beauty, you muse.

“just thinking,” you hum, reaching out to tug her gently into your lap. she nuzzles her head under your chin, curling into a tight ball as you envelop her in the blanket you had brought out with you. “why are you up?”

“you weren’t in bed.” she murmurs back sleepily. “whatcha thinking about?”

your eyes burn, the promise of tears to come. you should tell her, but it wouldn’t change anything anyways. but it isn’t fair for you to leave her with no warning, with no clue that you were going to die and leave her after worming your way into her life.

“babe?” mina sits up to face you, eyes now more alert as warm hands cup your face. “what’s wrong? you’re shaking?”

oh, you are trembling, from the effort it takes to hold back the guilty sobs that fight to rip its way out, from the heartache of knowing you’ll hurt the one person you love the most. she didn’t deserve this, deserve you. you should’ve known better than to let someone fall in love with you, when you were destined to die young.

“i’m sorry,” you choke the words out, barely holding your tears back. “i’ve been so selfish, i’m sorry.”

“hey, hey, hey? what are you sorry for, love? talk to me.” mina’s hands flutter around your face, wiping away the tears that make their sorrowful march down your cheeks, meeting their dutiful deaths in little drops off your chin.

your mouth opens and closes, the words stuck in your throat, choking you on their devastating finality. how do you tell her? how could you tell her?

“hey,” she presses her forehead to yours. “i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“i,” you take a rasping gasp as you close your eyes. “i lied to you.”

mina freezes, and you feel, more than see, the way she forces her body to relax, to melt back into yours.

“what did you lie about?” her voice is deceptively light, a tone you recognize to be one of her many ‘hero’ voices.

“my quirk.”

“oh? what about it?”

she’s going to be devastated by this, you just know it. how cruel you are, to ruin one of the brightest, kindest souls out here with your selfish impulses. but there’s no backtracking now, no hiding this fatal truth.

you open your eyes, meeting her golden eyes head on. you hate yourself for what you’re about to do.

“i told you my quirk allows me to know when exactly a person will die, but i never told you that i know when i would die.”

mina’s breath hitches as she processes your words.

“love-” you shake your head, cutting her off. you need to do this, to let her know everything before you lose the courage to do so.

“i’ll die tonight.” the words settle like a guillotine over your heads, and you wait for the blade to drop, watching for mina’s reaction.

“no.” she finally breathes out, hands tightening on your cheeks. “no.”

“yes,” you chuckle humorlessly. “i don’t know how i’ll die, but i know when, right down to the second.”

“no, love, i- i can protect you, i’ll save you! i’ll be with you the whole time,” she pulls away from you, eyes wet. the blanket falls off, settling on the edge of the chair. it’s going to get dirty. “i’ll get the agency to assign you bodyguards, we’ll have a rotating system, i-”

you pull her into your embrace, arms wrapping around her tightly. it was all your fault. it’s your fault that the love of your life is breaking down in your arms right now, that she’s hurting so much right now, that she’ll continue to hurt after you’re gone. she cries into your shoulder, and you bury your face in hers, tears soaking the thin cotton she’s wearing.

the moon watches in solemnity, the stars blink their condolences. you cry and you cry until you’ve run yourself dry. mina cries herself to sleep, and you continue to hold her tight, tugging the blanket back over her.

“it’ll be okay,” you whisper. “you’ll be fine. i’ll die, and you’ll be sad for a little while, but you’ll get over it. you’ll get over me. and that’s okay. it’s okay because i want you to be happy. i’ll be watching from wherever i’ll end up, and even if i can’t, the moon will watch you for me.”

you press a gentle kiss to her head, staring at the planet in question.

“you’ll look after her for me, won’t you?”

the moon doesn’t reply. it never does. but you nod anyways, tucking your head against mina’s. you’ll hold her for as long as you can, as tightly as you can. it’s the only apology you can give now. you hope she forgives you for this.

#ashido mina #ashido x reader #ashido mina x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha ashido #bnha.myworks #l.writing

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morganaspendragonss · 2 years

Text

before we both lose this fight (5/?)

chapter written by @tarlos-spain and translated into english by me ao3 | 1.6k

TK fell asleep in the chair after spending a couple more hours talking to Enzo on the phone. His back and head were hurting, so he took a minute to relax his body.

It had been an intense night; he’d cried and wanted to scream, but hadn’t because he didn’t want to wake Carlos. Even so, his throat hurt…his entire body was hurting.

He checked the time on his phone. It was half ten in the morning and the lost was completely silent, the bedroom shadowed. His hands massaging his hips, TK went over, but he soon realised that the bed was made and there was no noise coming from the bathroom. Carlos wasn’t in the main room, and it was easy to see that he wasn’t in the kitchen either.

To say that TK began to worry for his missing boyfriend who was supposed to be on his third day of leave would be an understatement.

His stress levels went from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. He ran back to the couch to grab his phone, fumbling it and having to catch it. He sat down and sent a message to the 126 group chat and another to his father, to Andrea and Gabriel, and to Tommy.

‘Carlos isn’t at home and he hasn’t left a message. Do you guys know where he is?’

Gabriel: He didn’t say anything?

Andrea: I’m going to kill that son of mine.

Mateo: Do you want us to put up posters and look for him?

Owen: Tell me what you want us to do.

A moment later, TK heard the sound of keys in the door and he suddenly began to breathe again. He jumped over the back of the sofa and ran to the door.

As soon as he saw Carlos, he hugged him, hearing the sound of his boyfriend’s bag falling to the floor. He didn’t care; he only cared about hugging him as tight as possible.

“God, Carlos. Where were you? Why did you leave without saying anything? Do you want to give me a heart attack?”

He took his face in both hands and stared at him for a moment as if expecting to see a mark because he’d fallen, or a wound from someone attacking him; anything. But there was nothing except his boyfriend’s terrified face and exhausted, pained expression.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t think that getting back here would be so hard. I bought some things to make you breakfast, I wanted to do something special and…” Carlos leaned lightly on TK, closing his eyes and breathing heavily as he felt nauseous, though he managed to compose himself. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Are you serious?”

TK looked at the bag. It was full of things — meats, milk, coffee, and some bread and bags from the bakery.

It wasn’t a joke. Carlos had gone out shopping, and TK knew him well enough to read his expression. All of Carlos was screaming that he felt guilty for what had happened the previous day.

“Of course.” Carlos smiled, his eyes lighting up, and he gave him a kiss. “I behaved terribly yesterday, I don’t know how I could forget about your…your mom, and when I woke up, I realised that because of my stupid injury, you haven’t been able to grieve, or even go to her funeral. You deserve better.”

As he spoke, Carlos grabbed the bag off the floor and went to the kitchen, putting everything in its place on the counter. He made sure that none of the eggs had broken and pulled the coffee pot from a cupboard.

“You remember that we have the Nespresso, right? It makes whatever coffee you want.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t taste the same as when you grind the coffee five minutes before making it.”

TK looked at him, waiting for Carlos to laugh and say that it was all a joke. But, no, Carlos had bought coffee beans and was going about grinding them, using up his strength and tiring himself out, all to prepare a breakfast you’d find in a hotel buffet.

“Carlos…”

“You get comfortable, and when I finish, you can talk to me about anything you want. Maybe how you’re feeling or, I don’t know, something about your mom.”

“Carlos, babe, stop for a second.”

TK stood next to him and grabbed his hands to get him to stop grinding the coffee. It smelled amazing, TK loved the scent of freshly-made coffee, but that didn’t take away from the fact that his boyfriend should be lying down, at the very least on the sofa.

“Let me finish making this. How long has it been since I’ve been able to make you a nice breakfast? Between work and how crazy these days have been, we barely have time for each other.”

Carlos groaned and grimaced, supporting himself on the counter, but he smiled again. He brought a hand to his temple where he’d been hit; it was where the pain started when he got a migraine, and he knew that one was coming, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

Suddenly, TK’s hand on his forehead made him meet his gaze.

“Babe, you’re sweating. You’re not okay.”

“I’m fine, honestly… At least enough to finish making breakfast. I need to do something for you. These days I’ve felt… I should look after you and let you cry.” He put his hand to his head again, the ache turning into a shooting pain. “Fuck…”

“Come on, you need to sit down.” TK wrapped his arm around his waist and gently pushed him towards the sofa.

“No, wait. Let me finish,” Carlos protested, grabbing the counter. “I’ll make you a juice, I bought your favourite, and there’s also that butter croissant you like so much.”

TK noticed Carlos’s breathing speeding up, but it was also choked and his hands were trembling. He walked to the fridge, saying that he wanted some fruit, but before he could get there, he wobbled and stumbled, almost falling into TK’s arms.

“You need to lie down.”

“I’m fine, TK, fuck!” Carlos made him let him go. “I’m not useless and I want to make you breakfast, for fuck’s sake.”

TK wasn’t used to hearing Carlos swear, and he remembered that the doctor at the hospital had told them that a severe concussion could cause sudden mood swings, which would pass quickly.

He shouldn’t let them affect him.

“You’re not fine and I…”

Suddenly, TK heard his mother’s voice in his head.

“Carlos loves you and would give his life for you. Don’t let him go. When you feel like running, remember that he’ll always be there for you. Don’t get caught up in what you can’t change, and hold on to what you feel for him.”

He hugged Carlos again and kissed his neck. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, my love.”

“Ty? What’s going on?”

“Come to the couch, you’re going to fall over.”

“The truth is that I’m exhausted, but I wanted to apologise to you for having forgotten…” Carlos’s legs gave out, and he would have fallen had it not been for TK holding him up.

“Carlos!”

“I’m going to be sick. I shouldn’t have gone…” Carlos rested his forehead on TK’s shoulder. “The light wasn’t this strong a minute ago.”

“Okay, it’s okay, you just close your eyes and let me take you to bed. I can carry you if you trust me.”

“Of course I t…trust you, tiger… Always.”

TK encircled his waist and slowly took him to bed. He lay Carlos down and left a bucket next to him in case he really did need to throw up. Then, he went to the kitchen to make him tea and move the coffee away — when Carlos was ill, coffee just made him sick. When he went back to the bedroom, he helped him to drink, as well as getting him to swallow a pill for his head, seeing as Carlos couldn’t keep his eyes open for more than two seconds.

“I’m going to tidy the kitchen, I’ll be back in a minute.” TK left the glass on the table and tried to stand up.

But Carlos sobbed and grabbed his arm. “Don’t go… I really don’t feel well.”

It wouldn’t have taken any effort for TK to free himself, but he didn’t even try. He smiled and moved to Carlos’s other side, making himself comfortable on the bed and hugging his waist. He kissed his cheek and rested his head on his shoulder.

“I’m here… I’m always going to be here, and I need to apologise too.”

“What for?” Carlos murmured, half asleep.

“For being so selfish that I only thought about my pain over losing my mom, and not realising that you were sick and needed me.”

“It doesn’t…doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does. I didn’t look after you and today you almost collapsed trying to make me breakfast instead of resting.”

Carlos rested his hand on top of TK’s and pulled their bodies closer together. “You’re here now. Sleep with me.”

TK kissed his head and nodded. He wasn’t going to sleep — he was too worried about Carlos to do that — but he didn’t have a problem with spending the day curled up in bed with him. He imagined his mother watching over them, happy to see them together and looking after each other.

But he needed to be careful; as the doctor had said, going the first few days without enough rest could be dangerous for Carlos, and the slight amnesia was a clear sign that they needed to take more care.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #cowritten

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