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wolken-himmel · 2 years

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In which a Diasomnia student calls (Y/n) over to help when some of his fellow dorm members start turning into animals.

Upon arrival, the prefect realises that Malleus has turned into some kind of lizard, Lilia into a bat, Silver into a bear cub, and Sebek into a crocodile.

Request by anon.

"T-They're inside the dorm... Please, do something, prefect!"

The crowd of Diasomnia students seemed to be in a frenzy as all of them frantically pointed at the entrance to their dorm. Some of them even looked like they wanted to follow you to the doorstep, but those were held back by their fellow dorm members. At least the majority of the students had been able to evacuate before the strange miasma could have gotten to them.

A cold shiver ran down your back, although you did your best to suppress it. "We'll try our best..." you assured the panicked student that had called for your help. Then, steeling your nerves, you turned to the entrance and carefully rapped your fist against the wooden door. "Malleus, Lilia? Anyone there?"

You received no reply.

"Can we go home?" Grim whined at once and tugged at your pajama sleeve. "I'm tired..."

His impatience amused you, yet you shook your head and replied, "No, we have to check up on Sebek and the others..." Your voice trailed off into a quiet echo, overshadowed by the weeping of the door as you pushed it open.

With the utmost care you could muster, you stepped inside the dorm. Few candles lit the vacant hallway, shrouding the interior in a frightening and unsettling mood. The cat monster watched as the darkness swallowed you whole. "Don't go in there! What if the plague reaches you, too?" He stumbled after you with clumsy and hasty steps.

You merely rolled your eyes while continuing your way. "There is no such thing as a plague..."

"Yes! That Diasomnia guy said something of a sickness that turned people into animals..." Grim gulped in fear. His paws clung to your arm tightly, and his head whipped in all sorts of directions whenever his ears picked up on anything. Once the two of you entered the kitchen, a frightened yelp escaped his maw. "I-I think I saw something slithering around on the floor—"

He cut himself off with a scream before pouncing into your arms. A sigh escaped your lips, but you nonetheless caught him and soothed him with a few awkward pats to his back. "We'll be careful, Grim..." you whispered. Then, you swayed him back and forth, as if he were a child. The motion seemed to calm his tense nerves, and he soon allowed you to set him down again.

"Just... stay close," Grim muttered quietly.

A foul stench entered your nose before you could reply. Your eyes soon found the source of the smell: a broken vial that lay in a puddle of green liquid. The revolting-looking liquid still emanated a strange fog that set off alarm bells in your head.

"Do you see the broken vial over there?" you muttered and pinched your nostrils close. "Don't breathe any of the fumes in..."

It only took your friend a few moments to decipher the words on the broken vial. "Wait, I recognise that thing! That was today's alchemy assignment! But... we weren't supposed to brew a transformation potion. It was just supposed to be something boring."

"Someone must have tinkered with it then. Perhaps a playful soul like Lilia." A sigh escaped your lips when the sound of fluttering wings caused the cat to cling to you again. Although this time, you swore you could feel a gust of wind brushing past your cheeks. "Well, looks like his prank went awfully wrong..."

Just as you were about to turn around and leave the kitchen, Grim's shaking paw stopped you. Once he had caught your attention, he carefully pointed at a fleeting shadow rummaging through the fruit basket. You steeled yourself to face a predator, only to witness a bat's head poking out from behind an orange.

"(Y/n)— do you see that bat over there? Is it..." Grim gulped in horror. "...laughing?"

Indeed, the small animal seemed to find joy in your frightened faces. He clutched his stomach with his clawed hands and doubled over in amusement. The bat remained on the kitchen counter, rolling around in laughter — until you picked him up by his feet.

"A bat... Oh no, the potion got to Lilia..." you whispered in defeat. "Don't worry, it's just me... We'll find a cure for this whole mishap."

He seemed to understand you, based on the way he grinned at you and fluttered his wings. As soon as you removed your grip on his feet, he sailed into the air — only to land on your shoulder. So preoccupied with the playful bat, you didn't notice when your cat companion suddenly was nowhere to be seen.

"(Y/n)! Help!" Grim cried out, but that was the last you heard of him.

Your head whipped into the direction of his voice at once, the sudden gesture startling the bat. Yet, your eyes could not find any trace of the grey cat. "Grim? Where are you?" you cried out and stumbled out of the kitchen. You managed to catch a glimpse of his trident tail as it disappeared behind a corner. "Grim! Grim! Hold on, I'm coming!"

At once, you picked up your pace. In your panicked state, you barely managed to register that the bat had decided to accompany you. Amused cackles escaped the bat's throat, but he was kind enough to guide you back on track whenever you lost the trail. Just as you were sure you had caught up to Grim and his captor, you were faced with another animal that blocked your path. Much to your dismay, this one wasn't as harmless as the small bat.

"A... A crocodile?" You blinked owlishly at the predator that lay in the middle of the hallway.

An annoyed growl escaped the crocodile's maw as soon as he caught onto your heavy breathing. With great effort, he managed to twist his neck in your direction. His large body and tail knocked over a vase, but he didn't seem to care. His attention was locked onto you, and his eyes burnt with annoyance.

You knew that look.

"Sebek!" you cried out and slowly inched towards him. "It's me, (Y/n)... I'm here to help you guys."

The crocodile watched you warily, but didn't move whatsoever. It was only when you tried to scoot past him that he lurched at you with the speed of light. Just in time, you managed to jump to the side, otherwise you would have been crocodile food. You immediately grabbed one of the decorative swords that hung on the walls and readied yourself, should he attempt another bite.

When he finally attacked again, you brought the pommel of the sword down onto his head. A dejected roar that sounded more like a whine escaped his maw. He shrank back at once to rub the dent in pain.

"Bad crocodile!" you cried out and returned the sword to its original place. "Do you have no manners? Just like your human self, eh?"

By then, the crocodile seemed to have snapped out of his bloodlust. With his head hung low, he inched closer to you. He had no intention of attacking, whatsoever — instead, he merely stared up at you with watery puppy eyes.

"I was just joking, Sebek," you muttered and carefully rubbed the place where you had hit him. A small smile appeared on your face. "And I hope you were joking as well when you tried to bite my head off."

He nodded eagerly.

At that, a few snickers escaped your lips. "Alright, apology accepted..." With the path now cleared, you rose back to your feet and rubbed your back. "Have you perhaps seen where Grim was taken to?"

The crocodile replied with another nod before twisting his large body so that he could move onward. He merely grumbled a few harmless complaints when the bat landed on his back for a rest.

"Lead the way, then." You followed the two as they moved through a series of winding hallways. Slowly but surely, you lost track of how many left and right turns you had taken. At least the bat and crocodile seemed to know their way around well.

After having crossed a corner for the umpteenth time, you found another obstacle lying in your way. This animal seemed smaller and much less threatening than the crocodile — especially so when you noticed the brown and fluffy fur. Soft snores came from the animal's direction.

"Please tell me the bear cub is better behaved than Sebek..." you whispered, drawing an offended growl from the crocodile in question. "Should we... wake him up?" Before you even had the opportunity to nudge the bear awake, the crocodile had already rudely swept his scaled tail against the bear.

He woke up with a startled yelp, his head snapping up in alarm. You also furrowed your eyebrows once your gazes met. "I know those eyes! It's you, Silver." A little chuckle escaped your lips when the bear drowsily pawed at your pajama pants. "Aren't you a cute one? So sleepy, so adorable..."

You swept him up into your arms and held him close to you. A series of pleased giggles escaped his maw when you rubbed that special spot behind his round ears. Promptly, he fell asleep again, drawing a sigh from you. "Oh right, we need to continue..." All your attempts of lowering the cub to the floor again were met with whines of protests from his side. You sighed in resignation, yet you couldn't bring it over yourself to go against his wishes. "Silver, I need to go rescue Grim... I really need to..."

Just as you were about to give in to his puppy eyes, your bat friend swept in and gave the bear a stern look. That seemed to have done the trick, as the bear now let himself be lowered to the floor.

"Thank you, Lilia," you breathed out in relief. "I couldn't have done it myself."

Now that the moral dilemma was taken care of, the four of you continued your search for your kidnapped cat companion. After another set of hallways and your feet slowly growing numb from all the walking, you reached a door that all three of the animals pointed at. Without wasting any more time, you carefully pushed the door open and peeked inside.

In the dim light of some candles, you found Grim cowering in a corner of the supposed bedroom. He seemed unharmed when he sprinted over to you and leapt into your arms. "(Y/n)... you came for me!" he cried out in relief. His body shook from head to toe.

Just as you were about to answer, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in your peripheral vision. The rest of the predator's body was hidden away in the darkness.

"Show yourself, fiend!" you exclaimed shakily.

The mysterious creature let out a disgruntled yawn before stepping out into the light.

You couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "A... lizard?" It was a large one, at that. Grim let out a frightened shriek and pressed himself deeper into your arms, especially so when the lizard wrapped his body around your feet. Perhaps it was a gesture to welcome you.

A little chuckle escaped your throat, and your eyes drifted to the lizard's glowing eyes. You could recognise those slitted green eyes everywhere.

"Ah, Malleus... mischievous old you."

You couldn't help but laugh when the lizard crooned in happiness once you rubbed the smooth scales on his back.

Grim, however, didn't seem to share your sentiment. His thrashing was still frantic, and he looked like he was about to faint. "He scared me to death! With his frightening tail that he grabbed me with..." he retold, a traumatised expression haunting his face. "And his glowing eyes..."

"Oh, Grim... You need to calm down," you mused and patted his back. "Malleus is a nice one, isn't he?"

"Get me away from him! Please!" Grim screamed when he felt the lizard's tail brushing against his legs.

You rolled your eyes. "Grim is such a crybaby... Right, Malleus?"

The lizard's maw grew into an innocent grin.

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r0-boat · 2 months

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Can I request a scenario with the WHB kings? (and any noble/s of your choice if you feel like it)

Them and gn!reader in a cramped space but reader is claustrophobic 🤔 it would've been a spicy scenario with them being smooshed together and all that but reader ain't having fun at all (possibly close to tears or already crying or panicking)

dropping by cuz it's been a while since i've shrimped around your ask box

- 🦐

This is like prime Levi shit...

Motherfucker would force you in his coffin to fuck you But this time we're taking a spin

Naga!whbLeviathan

Cw: noncon, MC is not having it, fucking in a tight space, with claustrophobia, breeding, Levi has two dicks, monster fucking, drugging venom aphrodisiac?

You're so likable... He hates it... And he knows why a pathetic human like you is so irresistible to monsters and your kind alike, as male and females block to you like moths to a bright light.

And here he was, his body aching as you're blissfully unaware of the pain and heat stirring in his belly and loins; he keeps his pain and suffering silent as he watches you laugh and flash your sweet smile at monsters that don't deserve such a privilege.

As his sense of smell heightens, everything that he wants claimed now reeks of tiger, dragon, insect even centaur... The only thing he has left is your closet which he had retreated into your closet,your once neatly fold and hanging clothes in a pile on the floor that is now his nest. Nestling against his coils and your familiar scented clothes rubbing his all over it. Now all he needs is you.

He knew you entered your bedroom He could smell you, as well as a lingering scent of something else something that irritated him. He listened closely as you stepped closer to your closet. Soon as you open that door he pounced grabbing on to you and pulling you into the dark corner rapping himself around you. He was salivating at your soft skin against him.

You for freaking out Your eyes wide as you were dragged into a tight space, having claustrophobia intense fear of small spaces you begged and screamed for Leviathan to let you go. But the Naga only covered your mouth with his hand before peppering your neck with soft kisses.

"I love you human mate with me."He murmured softly ignoring your struggles, another the other night with him This would be a rare moments where he confessed his true feelings of how he felt. But of course you consumed by fear didn't even care as you struggle to fight him struggle to break free which pissed him off.

"smell like animal. And you fight me... Do you not want to be mine? Who else is there that's you have been claimed by? I will claim you, breed you, brand you; make you forever mine."

He snarled his husky words tickling your ear as he begins to rip your clothing to pieces.

You streak and squirm against his coils as he turns you around to laugh up your tears with his tongue.

Even now you fight him... Is it because there's another? Is it one of the other animals stinking up the house? Or is it that human friend that he hates so much. He nuzzles his head into your neck taking in your familiar scent the other scent you have on you so muddled that he can barely recognize who it is. His fangs graze against your neck, gently piercing your skin giving you a dose of his venom. Not much just enough to slow your squirming and make you aroused enough to slide inside you.

"whoever you think your mate is, they do not compare to me."

His fingers play with his sheath as his cocks threaten to come out.

He strokes his cocks in his hand His gray eyes looking at you with love and lust. Every time you struggle he strangles you harder trapping you in tight coils.

"You are squirming more than usual. Do you really hate me that much? No matter, I'll make you mine. It is not your choice to make."

You could feel the venom going through your veins It is cold and makes your skin tingle as your skin becomes more sensitive, despite being trapped in the tight space of the closet and his coils the feeling of smooth scales rubbing against your skin is irresistible. You want to break free to get out but at the same time you want to rub yourself against him more.

With his strong tail he lifts one of your legs up placing it over his shoulder his fingers play with your hole before gently pushing one of his cocks inside.

As much as he wants to, he could not think good conscious rip you apart with his two cocks. He cannot hurt you like that, Even though he is already hurting you, but he does not know of your fear of tight spaces.

He could hear your rapid breathing, You're short rabbit breaths make his shake as the tip of his tail reaches your throat, wrapping it around it to squeeze. That hitch in your breath makes his cock twitch. As he stays inside of you, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

Your tight, squeezing walls make him want to thrust, So he does so, pressing himself deeper inside you. Then, when you moan his name, confirmation that he could go further, that's when he continues, bucking his hips and moving himself deeper his coils constricting and dilating with each thrust but his tail keeping the same pressure around your throat. And his other dick rubbing against you as the other one pounds inside of you deeper and deeper.

Your mind screams at you to get out of his consuming grasp, But your body craves the tight squeeze of his coils.

Leviathan's mind becomes muddled by his consuming heat as he begins to move faster. Grabbing both of your legs folding them over your shoulders too get you in a better position to pound down into you. His breath shakes as he moans a mantra of words

"Mate, mate, mate. Take it, take it, take it, mine, mine, mine, mine."

His cock rubbing against you while his deep inside of you hitting your sensitive spots make you cum, your walls squeezing around him, milking him. The naga's eyes roll back into his head as he cums inside of you with a roar. Yelling and moaning is he grinds himself deeper filling you up to the brim with his seed.

You don't know what happened after that perhaps you passed out, perhaps you fell asleep, and his coils. But when you woke up you were on your bed with him beside you a tail wrapped around your leg. His arms around you nuzzling against your chest, when he noticed you woke up he gave you a sweet smile giving you a small kiss on your skin.

"Morning, my love." He murmured just enough for only you to hear.

The first thing you did when you woke up was beat the shit out of him.

#smut #whb leviathan #what in hell is bad #whb x reader #non con #I don't have claustrophobia please keep that in mind So this could be very inaccurate #wihib #What in hell is bad Leviathan #whb leviathan x reader

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

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may i request for an angst to fluff fic where y/n's family arranges and forces her to marry into the house of targaryen just to rid of her in a way that it is beneficial to them. she's heard rumors about her soon to be husband, Aemond, and is scared of their family in general but all of that was just thrown out of the window when she finally meets them and sees how he is around his mother and sister thinking she'd rather be a part of this family than her own <3 (smut or no smut, it doesnt matter, as long as we are loved)

Under The Bridge

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Your parents described your betrothed as a troll, a gremlin, a monster, the perfect candidate for their wretched, useless, stubborn, first born child. Finally, they said, their daughter would be good put to good use.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions/depictions of domestic violence, big bro!aemond my love, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: ok i think im going to get carried away writing this [update] yep i got carried away Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda

I thought it quite fitting for the day to be wretched. After all, it was the day I would be sent away to be married to a man I did not know to please my parents; my father, that pulled his hair out every time I bested my potential matches, and my mother, who slapped me in an attempt to correct my impetuous behavior.

Yes, finally I would find my use and help my family regain prestige and wealth.

Neither cared to escort me to the carriage out of our decaying estate. The storm had been too strong and the mud puddles too many.

I had my one bag gripped tightly in my arms and cared little for the skirts that were soaking up brown water beneath me. I shouted over the sound of thunder and rain when I ran over to the hooded man, "greetings, my lord, I-"

"I am the envoy of your prince here to pick you up, my lady," he calls under the darkness of his cloak. I could not see his face.

"I see," I say, not at all disappointed that it was not my betrothed that was picking me up, "what is your name?"

He does not respond and so I repeat my question, louder, "what is your name, ser?!"

"Charon," he calls.

I pull my head back, "are you here to take me into the underworld?"

He does not react, so I assume he does not understand my joke. He only pulls back and opens the carriage door for me.

I sigh and hastily get in, slumping down, pulling my heavy skirt, wet with rain and mud, closer to me. He shuts the door with a thud. A few moments later the carriage begins to move.

I busy myself with reading on the way. It was all that I packed, my books. My mother thought she managed to throw them away, but I switched the contents of my bag with my clothing with my books before she could. Anyway, I never cared for my ugly dresses. I figured since I was marrying a prince, he could get me at least one dress to change into. That was more than enough.

The ride was pleasant on my part; I could read in silence, with no interruption, no father to scream at me, no mother to chase me around, and yet as we passed a hump, I was shaken into reality, a reality that the driver, Charon, was manning the carriage outside in the rain.

This was why, when we rain cleared, I knocked on the closed window by the driver's seat and called out for him.

He does not respond.

I rap my knuckles harder, "Charon?"

I am slightly startled when the opening is slid open. He does not say anything. I huff and reach for the sandwich in my bag, sticking it out to the window, "it has gone cold but it should still taste nice. It will help to keep you warm, eating something."

I await as the man twists in his place.

He does not respond still, and so I push my arm out further, "if you would like another, I can give you the one I packed myself. I ate a lot before leaving," as a final act of deviance.

He takes a moment to think of my offer it seems. He finally takes it and I feel his callused hand on mine. I do not miss the bandages on his fingers and palm. I wonder how he got injured.

I vaguely hear him thank me. I mutter again for good measure, "just knock if you want the other."

I start when the knock comes, dropping the book I was finishing onto my lap. I shift in my place and move to reopen the closed area, grabbing my sandwich as I did. I however turn to my side when I the carriage door opens.

I am suddenly faced with a dark haired knight. He bows to me, offering a hand out as he greets me in regard. He proceeds to introduce himself, "Ser Criston Cole, at your service."

"An honor," I nod, straightening myself up, "ser Cole."

He surveys the carriage then turns back to me, "allow me to help you down, my lady."

I place my things back in my bag and take his hand, hopping down next to him, causing mud to splatter on his uniform. We both still when it happens. The shrill chastising of my parents replay in my mind.

"I-"

"An honest mistake, your majesty."

My lips part, "I am not you ma-"

"You are to be wed to my prince in a fortnight," he says, reaching out to my bag as he continues, "you will be soon enough." Criston adds. Once he has my things, he shuts the door, then looks at me, "allow me to escort you to your room."

I nod, sneaking a look past him, looking for the man that brought me here, "where did Charon go?"

"Charon?"

"The driver," I turn back to him, "I meant to give him my sandwich," I say, reaching for the said thing in my bag.

Criston turns from my sandwich to me, brows furrowing, "the... driver has gone to finish his other duties."

I nod, unwrapping the food, "do you want it?"

His lips form a small smile, "a generous offer, but I have already eaten."

I purse my lips, rewrapping the thing, placing it back in my bag. Criston offers his arm out to me. I link arms with him and pull my shoes out of the mud along with my crusty skirt that was getting dirty all over again.

When we reach the entrance, Criston pulls away from me, insisting I walk in first.

Once we are inside, he walks a foot away from me, silently leading me off to my room. I sniffle as I take in the ambiance of the place.

Criston turns to me and I turn to him as he says, "I will have a bath prepared for you."

"Thank you," I smile, "could you have them lend me a dress as well?"

He furrows his brows and I do not wait for him to ask, "I only packed my books, you see."

He turns to my bag as he says this, "ah," he turns back to me, "I thought your clothes were merely stiff."

I snort, breaking into a laugh.

I notice how Criston's shoulders relax and how his nostrils flare slightly.

We take a left to a well-lit corridor. Criston opens the door for me once we reach the room. He places my things on a table as I make my way towards a vanity, seeing just how disheveled and wet I was.

"The servants will come to attend to you soon."

"Than-"

"Thank you, ser Criston," a commanding voice calls, startling me in the process. A red haired woman walks towards me, nodding to the knight in regard. Criston returns the sentiment before offering me the same thing and walking off.

"Apologies for startling you," the woman says, hands clasped in front of her.

I bow, eyes downturned.

You are not too look any of them in the eye if you wish to live, do you understand?

"Not at all, queen mother," I speak as I hear my pulse quicken in my ribcage.

The woman walks over to me, the Hightower colors are bright in her dress. I gulp, knowing what would come next. I hold myself back from stepping away.

"Let me look at you," she announced, reaching out for me.

I suck in a breath and catch her gaze when he takes my cold face in her warm hands. Her brown eyes are wide as she takes me in, the curve on her cheeks and jaw resemble none of the vicious remarks my father told me about her. Her pursed lips barely move when she speaks, "my, your mother was just in her musings of your beauty."

I clench my jaw.

"Surely then, I expect you to be as astute as she makes you out to be," she utters, pulling her hands away, "prince Aemond is truly a fair match for you."

I nibble on my lower lip, recalling the disgusting words my father had to offer about the said prince, "I am honored by your regard, Queen Alicent."

"Yes," she sighs, "well, you must hurry and get cleaned up." .

The moment she speaks this, it is as though the servants were summoned, and not that it was a happy coincidence.

I turn my eyes back to the floor as I bow again.

"My son said that he would wait for you in the gardens."

I nod, "I will head there the moment I am ready, your grace."

"Very good," she speaks one last time before heading off. Once she is gone and it is only me and the servants, I release the breath I held out of instinct.

The point between my bath and my going to the gardens was blurred by the vivid recount of my dreadful parent's words against the family I was marrying into.

Just close your eyes if his face is too much to bare. Turn your face away when you are coupling. The smart head you like claim to have will do you no good there. Just be silent and obedient and you will keep your head.

I snap into reality when I hear the sound of laughter once I reach the open space. I see two heads of light blonde hair just past a few shrubs. That must be the witch-sister my father was talking about.

I could not hear what they were conversing over, but it was clear that they were having a moment. It would be most improper to barge in on them.

And yet as I stood in my place, I thought of what would be the consequence if I did not show myself.

I gulp in air and walk over to them, "your majesties."

I hold my breath when they turn to me. I don't know what I was expecting, but I was not expecting a smiling, eye-patched prince and a beaming princess with a flower in her hair.

The next happening came to be all too quickly.

"Would you like to see my spider?" the woman calls, dashing over to me with a large black spider in her hand.

I recoil at her words, and before I could turn her down, she places the long legged thing onto my shoulder, making my eyes grow wide and my body to freeze into a brick. It took everything in me not to smack the insect away. What would happen if I kill the princess's spider?

I clench my jaw and my fists tightly, gulping the lump in my throat.

Perhaps it could kill me first.

"Helaena!" the man calls, dashing forward, grabbing the insect on my body, handing it back to her sister. I shiver and step back once I am free of the creepy-crawly.

Helaena looks up at her brother and knits her brows. He begins to tell her something in a foreign tongue and whatever it is makes the woman's face dampen. She turns to me, bowing with a pout, "apologies, my lady."

I shudder then suck in a sharp breath, "I..." I feel my chest tighten when she removes the flower in her hair. She was like me, rebuked for something she liked.

I force a confidence voice after gulping heavily, "I am honored to meet your spider," my breath hitches, "but I do not like spiders."

"What a shame," she says rather dejectedly.

"Perhaps it be best if you go back to your chambers," her brother mutters as the spider begins to crawl up her arm.

I step back at the sight of it.

She nods, "perhaps."

I move farther when she passes me, mostly because her shoulder near me was where the spider was perched on.

I watch as she leaves. I sigh at the sight of her fluttering hair.

When I turn to the prince, I reel back when I find him stood so close to me. Upon seeing my reaction, he does me the courtesy of stepping back as well.

I heave from my mouth then bow, "prince Aemond."

He watches me as I rise then offers me a quick nod. He sighs, placing his hands behind him, "I am thankful you did not squash her spider."

I cringe at the thought, "I'd have squashed it on my skin," I shake my head rapidly, "that would be no good."

For a moment, he only looks at me. I only manage a few seconds before needing to turn away from his gaze. I only turn back when he raises his hand out, "care to walk with me?"

I reach for his hand, and it is only then that I realized that he had bandages on. I turn to our joined palms then back to his face.

He catches how I observe him and this grip on me tightens as he visibly stiffens, "a riding injury."

I debate his words, wondering how he would get injured like that.

He proceeds to answer me as if he heard my thought, "my dragon, Vhagar, was flying fiercely upward. It was hard to keep hold. I had blisters for days."

I pull back when he releases my hand. I turn to his arm when he offers it to me instead. I place my palm on his bicep as we continue to walk off.

The next moment, I suddenly realize why the bandages on his hands were striking to me.

"You," I turn to him, "are Charon."

He keeps his gaze upfront.

I cannot help but smile in amusement over his obvious reaction to my words-- not reacting. I allow my lips to release a chuckle, "you were gauging me."

"..."

"Worry not," I look out to some flowers by the side, "I too am scared to get married."

I feel him turn to me, but I do not feel like returning his look.

"Is it marriage," he calls, "or me that you are scared of?"

I take a moment before turning back to him; his one eye is expectant and I swear I see his covered one twitch. "Both," I utter simply, "but at least now that I know that we're both scared, I have found a semblance of solace."

We continue walking in silence after my admission.

I await for him to burn my words, to wholeheartedly disagree with my verdict, much like all the other men that I was jostled into, lest they find themselves caught agreeing with a stupid woman. I am surprised that he does nothing and merely continues walking with me in silence.

He catches my shocked reaction, it seems, and raises his nose, "I was concerned."

I softly snort in humour, "as one would be."

His lips curve slightly into a smile but he does a good job of making it unobvious, "I was concerned you would be haughty, vain, irritating."

"And you decided I was not in the silence of our travels?"

He ignores this, "I am aware your parents are eager for the alliance because your coin has run low."

"That," I tilt my head, "amongst other things."

Aemond narrows his eye, "like what?"

"Well for one, they are overjoyed to rid of me," I pull a smile before breaking into a smile.

I catch the expression that twists onto his face. He does not believe me. He furrows his brows in challenge, "you mother speaks nothing but exaggerated ideations of you."

I shake my head as I chuckle, "and I am glad that it has landed me a husband who cares for his sister."

He stops upon hearing this. I turn to him when he does. He pulls away from me to place his hand behind his back again. I watch him as he looks off and sucks in a deep breath.

"I will not ask much of you," he mutters, slowly turning back to me, "I wish to only fulfil my duties; I require of you to do the same is all."

Aemond's face is sincere, or at the very least he looks and sounds as though he is in that moment. I nod at his words, placing my own hands behind my back, "indeed I am glad my mother could at least do this one thing for me."

He raises his chin, hands falling to his sides. He shifts on his leg as a breeze blows past his blonde hair. He nods, "come, there is more to see in the gardens."

#aemond fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x you

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epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 1 year

Text

— The Archer | R. Targaryen *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader

▹ Genre: Angst and Comfort

▹ Words: ~3.7k

▹ Summary: All of Rhaenyra's enemies started as friends and she's terrified you'll be next.

▹ Note: Your Honor, I'm gay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There'd been a shift in your relationship with Rhaenyra.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment it had happened or the exact reason for it. But something had changed. No longer did she freely show her affections in the privacy of her chambers, nor did she reach out to hold your hand in hers. Cold and distant, Rhaenyra didn't call on you as much as she previously had.

Paranoia had you in its claws; had you done something wrong? Did she find someone else to fall in love with? Perhaps someone she could be with so publicly, not a lowly handmaiden she could only ever have in the quiet of the night.

Your heart hammered with anxiety and suspense; tossing and turning, sleep had evaded you as you began to keep tally of how many times Rhaenyra called on your aid. The most in one day had been three, and she used to call on you double that amount just to be in your presence. Something was wrong; you just didn't know what.

She wouldn't even meet your gaze anymore.

It made you squirm when in her presence, where once you had been at complete ease. Doubt made your sunny skies turn gray as insecurities gnawed on you. Did she rekindle her friendship with Queen Alicent and leave you in the dust? Or was it Daemon Targaryen who captured her attention from you? Perhaps someone new to the court you hadn't even realized was a threat.

There was nothing to do; you were helpless, unable to act as the woman you loved drifted further away. Goodbye was screaming in the silence between the two of you.

Hands shaking and breathing unsteady, your footsteps echoed in the dark halls, its flickering candles casting monsters in the corner of your vision. Your fingers gripped the serving tray in your hand so tight that all circulation had been cut off as your knuckles turned white. The decanter of wine shook, and its sound called out just how terrified you were.

The princess had requested red wine as she prepared for bed, and you were terribly anxious this would be the night she'd officially end the relationship the two of you shared. But you didn't want that; you didn't want to face the harsh reality that everything was crumbling around you. You'd take awkward silence over definite endings.

All too soon, you reached her chambers, the doors looming over you in a mocking manner. Carefully, you raised a single fist to the door and knocked, the rap of your fist almost as loud as the beat of your heart. A lump was caught in your throat as you waited.

"Come in." The walls muffled Rhaenyra's voice, but you'd heard them well enough, always too aware of anything related to Rhaenyra. And maybe that was where you went wrong. Blinded by the princess, you took her words as an oath and not the petty dalliance she probably viewed it as.

Carefully, hands still shaking, you opened the door. The sweat on your palm nearly made it stick to the cool metal of the knob.

The room was dimly lit by half-melted candles and candelabras spread throughout the large chamber. The duvet on her large bed was pulled back, inviting her to sink into the plush mattress of cloud-like pillows. Rhaenyra sat in front of her vanity, hair loose and unbraided, dressed in a night dress and a silk robe. She turned her head as you entered, purple eyes carefully watching you with an unreadable expression.

She used to look at you with warmth and vibrant affection, every emotion she felt visible on her face. Now it was like looking at a statue, harsh and emotionless. The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper, and your heart got caught in your throat. Where did it all go wrong?

Your eyes darted from her, unable to stare any longer without bursting into tears. The walls were closing in on you as the ability to breathe was taken from you. Like a rat, you hurried to the other side of the room, setting the tray on a small table.

You opened the decanter, pouring the red wine into the glass. You took your time to avoid spilling anything. You needed to be out of the room as soon as possible. The weight of Rhaenyra's eyes on you was equivalent to the ceiling collapsing onto you. A scenario you would've preferred over this one; at least then death would be quicker than this slow burn.

There was a soft clank as you set down the crystal decanter. With the glass of wine in hand, you turned and walked towards Rhaenyra. Eyes lowered to the floor, and counting each step taken, you set the glass on the vanity, a few inches from Rhaenyra's hand, that tightly gripped the wood's edge.

You didn't mutter a word, simply lowering into a slight curtsey before turning and exiting the room. Except you hadn't made it that far, only crossing half of the room before Rhaenyra spoke.

"Wait."

You stopped in your tracks, the hammer of your heart so loud you wouldn't be surprised if all of Dragonstone heard it.

"Come here."

Your eyes fluttered shut, unsure whether you should be relieved or terrified. She would either take you in her arms as she had nearly every night the past year, or she'd fully sever the thread that tied the two of you together.

Deeply you inhaled, held it for a moment, then exhaled, opening your eyes. You turned, eyes still on the floor, as you returned to where Rhaenyra sat. You waited for her to speak, terrified of what she may say. So silent you could've blended into the walls; things had never been this way between you. Rhaenyra had always been more of a friend than a superior and then a friend that became a lover.

But now she would become a stranger again.

"Would you brush my hair and plait it for bed?" She spoke to you as if you were a stranger, even-toned and perfectly polite. But perhaps if you'd been looking anywhere other than your feet, you'd have noticed the storm of emotions reflected in her eyes.

Wordlessly you nodded, grabbing the hair brush and meticulously brushing out any knots and tangles. You made quick work of it but refrained from seeming too eager to finish the task. The last thing you needed was to potentially anger Rhaenyra, something you'd never been afraid of. But nothing was as it once was.

Her hair was like silk threads between your fingers as you wove each strand into one braid that fell down the middle of her back. While your eyes focused solely on her hair and the task at hand, Rhaenyra's were on you.

A soft smile curled at the edges of her lips, heart heavy with anxiety and fear she didn't dare speak into existence. It wasn't that she wanted to push you away. But as paranoia and fear took root within her mind, rotting away her faith and belief that there were good things out there, distancing herself was better than watching you twist into someone who hated her.

Yet even as she resolved herself to do such, creating an armor of ice to encase herself with, the sting of heartbreak hit her heart. While she would self-soothe with reassurances that it was only raw for now, that soon the ache would dull, she wasn't convinced. In the loneliness of the night, her bed was entirely too big. You should've been in the space beside her, greeting her with sleepy smiles and bleary eyes that sparkled like stars.

Rhaenyra was sure that she'd be getting over you her whole life. Yet missing you wasn't the worst of it.

Never a player of the Great Game the nobles busied themselves with, you wore your heart on your sleeve. It was evident the hurt you bore from her sudden withdrawal. Shockwaves of trembling hands and unsteady breaths plagued you, eyes not as bright as they once had been. She noticed it all, and it was like a dagger to the heart every time she did. She never wanted to hurt you; she never wanted you to hate her.

Yet the fear of you twisting the dagger embedded in her chest from past betrayal made her rash. It made her paranoid, visions of treachery riddling her with madness. Alone in the dark, twisting in her sheets, Rhaenyra's doubts spiraled out of control.

But in the solitude of her room, Rhaenyra could feel her walls weakening as your nimble fingers brushed through her hair.

You continued your work on Rhaenyra's hair, nearly finished as you reached the end. Before Rhaenyra could return the mask of indifference to her face, you were tying her braid with a cord, eyes moving from her head to meet her eyes in the mirror. Reflected in her eyes was the same pain and longing in yours. It made a lump return to your throat, a small sliver of hope like dawn coming after night.

Neither of you spoke, your hands still tangled in the ends of her hair. Time had stopped, the both of you screaming a million things with your eyes. Yet neither of you could understand the other, leading to more confusion as your heart continued to break. She nearly reached out and snatched your hands; in fact, she was lifting her hand, fingers outstretched--

The sudden rumble of thunder broke the silence as you jumped back from Rhaenyra, hands falling to your side, and Rhaenyra mourned the loss of your touch. She realized how much she truly missed it.

"Will that be all, my lady?" You lowered your head, eyes once again on your feet.

Rhaenyra hesitated. She'd wanted you to stay, to pull you into her arms and make you swear you'd never leave her. She wanted you to leave kisses on her face, punctuating each one with a promise of undying fealty, not as an heir to the Iron Throne but as the woman you loved. So close within her grasp, she could have reached out and captured your hand, holding it so tight she wouldn't feel a thing. Everything she wanted stood before her, patiently waiting for her to speak.

And yet Rhaenyra found herself tongue-tied, fighting a war no one else knew was waging. Could she take the leap, put her faith, trust, and everything sacred to her in you, and just simply hope you wouldn't turn your back on her? Could she fully bare her soul, grant you her heart, and pray you wouldn't crush it? Love involved a leap of faith that Rhaenyra was hesitant to take.

How could she open up after so much betrayal from the ones she least expected it from?

But at the same time, all she was feeling was pain that she had inflicted on herself. Was she some sort of masochist, content with being hurt so long as she could wield when and who it came from?

"Princess?" Your voice pulled Rhaenyra from her thoughts as she refocused on her surroundings. You were looking at her, a hint of concern in the cracks of your neutral expression.

It only made Rhaenyra's heart twist. You should be cursing her name, swearing up and down the halls Rhaenyra Targaryen was a cheat and a liar. And yet...

You still cared; it shone in how you watched her, eyes too keen and all-knowing. But if you were all-knowing, why couldn't you see the paranoid propaganda she was feeding herself? She wished, more than anything, you were the mind reader she often joked you were.

Time seemed to slow, unknown words forming on her tongue and falling from her mouth.

"Stay with me."

For a moment you stared at her, entirely sure you'd heard her wrong. Yet even as you replayed her answer over and over again, it hadn't changed. She wanted you to stay. Yet even as you lit up with newfound optimism, you crushed it before it could blossom. You didn't want to be let down.

You then nodded, unable to stifle the small smile on your lips. "Of course, princess. What is it you require of me?"

Rhaenyra picked up the glass of wine that had remained untouched up until that moment, and she stood from the vanity. She tipped the glass back, welcoming the bitter taste of it.

"Have a drink with me."

You nodded, following Rhaenyra as she walked towards the table where you had placed the decanter of wine. You moved to pour the glass, but Rhaenyra beat you to it, filling a second glass she presented before topping off her own.

"Thank you," you muttered, taking the glass and tentatively sipping. It was all so familiar, like a sense of deja-vu from when the two of you would sip wine and explore fantasies that could never be. Yet the air was never this thick with tension.

Rhaenyra sat at the table, motioning with her head for you to follow suit, which you did. Your fingers drummed on the wood, nerves making you restless. It felt as though you were awaiting trial for crimes against the crown.

Unspoken words hovered in the atmosphere, tangible yet elusive. Rhaenyra drank the wine like water while you hardly touched yours. Your stomach was so twisted that the thought of drinking anything made you nauseous.

The only indication that any time had passed was the dwindling wine and the storm that continued to rage outside. After her third glass had been drained, Rhaenyra set down the cup, pushing it away to indicate she was finished.

Only then did her eyes find yours, expression severe and austere. There were small lines along her forehead from the furrow of her brows and creases from the frown on her lips. You wanted to smooth them all and kiss away whatever made her so cold, yet that wasn't your place anymore.

"Do you love me?" She spoke softly, yet a sharp edge to her words carried the weight of an unspoken accusation. She judged you guilty of crimes you never even committed, put you in a cell, and destroyed the key without so much of a trial.

Yet you could do nothing but answer her earnestly because no matter the number of cuts in your skin from her sudden distance, your heart would always belong to her and only her.

"Yes."

Rhaenyra's jaw tightens, and in the flicker of the candles, you see the quiver of her lip and the slight shake of her form. She was crumbling, ash to the fire you radiated. Any resolve to preserve her heart in the act of self-sabotage was destroyed.

"Say it." The words were strained, Rhaenyra's eyes shut so tight the skin might rip. Tears pricked in her eyes, and Rhaenyra did her best to keep them at bay.

"I love you." You said it with such conviction and sincerity, Rhaenyra nearly believed it. Her eyes remained shut, but her body slackened and sunk into her chair. However, you leaned forward, eyes narrowed as everything clicked into place.

"Is that why you have been so distant and different? Did you believe I did not love you?" You asked, hands finding Rhaenyra's. You gripped them tightly as if to force Rhaenyra to truly see you.

"It is silly," she laughed, the sounds hollow and empty. She refused to look at you, knowing the burning passion in your eyes would make her fully give in. But she needed to maintain the walls around her heart, even if you kept tearing them down as she put them into place. She wouldn't be hurt by anyone ever again.

"It is not," you argued, squeezing her hand. "Look at me." She didn't heed your request, stubbornly turning her head away. You stood, the wood of your chair scraping against the stone floor, and you kneeled before Rhaenyra, pulling one of her hands into yours, elbows resting atop her knees.

"Rhaenyra, look at me." Still, she refused. With your free hand, you forced her head to face you. "'Nyra, please." With your final plea, her eyes fluttered open, purple iris' glossy from unshed tears. Diamonds under her eyes glistened, carving a path down her cheek as a few stray tears fell.

"I love you. I have loved you since the day I laid my eyes upon you. I need you to know that to understand the way I feel will never change."

"You don't know that. You cannot predict how you will feel in the future." She was stubbornly arguing, clinging to the last bit of fight she had. Your touch was burning her skin from her humiliation at appearing so weak.

"No, I may not be able to see the future, but I know how I feel for you, and I know that won't change."

"I can't be hurt again. All my enemies were once friends, and I cannot bear to see the same happen to you. I cannot lose you." Her hand ghosted over your cheek, her hand that was in your grasp interlocking with your fingers.

"And you will not. I won't betray you as Queen Alicent of Ser Criston or any of the others that left scars on you. What must I do to make you see that?"

Sharply Rhaenyra inhaled, choked sobs raking through her body. "I do not know how to stop it. I am terrified, so terrified. I do not want to be disappointed, not again."

You swallowed thickly, allowing her words to process as your thumbs stroked the palm of her hand. Like the weather outside, you were a tempest of emotions. A blend of sadness, desperation to comfort Rhaenyra, and burning anger towards those at King's Landing who had created these wounds.

Rhaenyra always had to maintain a strong facade as the heir to the throne, especially with her claim constantly being questioned. But for now, you would be the source of strength she had to be for so many people.

Rhaenyra continued to cry as you all but cradled her against you.

"Then I promise to do my best to never let that happen, and if it does, and one of us is let down by the other, I'll do my damndest to ensure I am the one that gets hurt."

Rhaenyra was too stunned to speak, the passion behind your words taking her aback. She pulled her head back from your chest to give you a wide-eyed stare.

You were truly in love with her; you'd meant every sleepy promise and quiet confession. The words you spoke hadn't been hasty or impulsive. They were an oath sworn under a canopy of stars with the gods as your witness. Rhaenyra had been a fool to not realize it before.

"I love you."

It was all she uttered before her lips were on yours. The kiss was salty from the tears falling from Rhaenyra's eyes, but you didn't mind, more than content to be pulled beneath the waves of her waters.

This kiss felt different from all the others you'd shared, a show of affection and relief that the cold war waging between you was over. There would be peace, and Rhaenyra could return to her home in your arms.

It was also more than that; it was also a declaration of devotion between the two of you, as sacred as any wedding. The waters would be rough, and the two of you could never truly be together anywhere other than the privacy of these four walls. Yet it was everything you'd wanted.

Rhaenyra was everything you wanted.

You returned her fervor, determined to make her feel every word you hadn't spoken. Gently, your tongue slipped past her lips, and you swallowed the small gasp she let out. One hand was on the nape of her neck, keeping her close while the other traced patterns along the curve of her cheek. She tasted like wine and imported berries from the Reach, an intoxicating blend that made your mind grow hazy.

She pulled back first, only centimeters separating the two of you. Eye to eye, her forehead resting on yours, she breathed in. The tip of her nose brushed against yours as you panted.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. How could you possibly forgive me," Rhaenyra spoke with as much reverence as a Sept reciting sacred prayers.

"Because I love you," you spoke, lips brushing over hers. "I love you, and I will continue to do so until the end of my days."

"I do not deserve you."

You cupped her cheek in such a soft and delicate fashion. She was a work of art, and you'd handle her with the care she deserved.

"You deserve so much more than you've been given, 'Nyra. I cannot give you much, but I will give you all my love; I can promise you that. I will never betray you, I will never leave you, and I will never, ever stop loving you."

She breathed out a laugh, a sweet smile on her swollen lips that were bruised from the kiss you'd shared. "And I promise you that when I am named Queen, I will make a new order and marry you, proprietary be damned. I want you, and I will have you. No court, army, or god could stop me."

There was a glow on your face, her words making you feel as high as the heavens. The smile on your face would never be wiped off. Truth rang in Rhaenyra's words, and you knew they weren't pretty promises to make you feel all light and giggly.

"Do not start a war for me," you muttered in a playful tone, undoing the plait you had done so you could card your fingers through her hair.

"I would burn down the entire world for you." She spoke with such devotion it made your cheeks flush pink.

"Perhaps we start with you kissing me again."

And Rhaenyra complied with your request, over and over again, determined to make up for the hurt she inflicted.

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra imagine #rhaenyra targaryen #game of thrones #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #house targaryen #hotd #queen rhaenyra #angst and comfort #taylor swift inspired

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im-just-a-boy-guys · 24 hours

Text

Expanding on an idea I had, I'll link the post :3

(MULTIMONSTER/GLORYHOLE/AFAB/FTM/ANY BODY TYPE/WERE-TIGER/ORC)

(3.8k words)

(CNC/FREE-USE/MONSTERKINK/GLORYHOLE/ANAL/ORAL/VAGANAL)

SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM TO SEE THE REFERENCES OF THE CREATURES!<3

(Heads up, pink text is just for unassorted side characters, they might make an appearance in future parts of the fic, and might have their own colors then.)

You walk into the facility excitedly. You had passed the screening, background check, drug test, lab work, and numerous other loops to fill the position you had applied for. You knew it was a sex-working job, but didn't have much more information than that, which you didn't mind.

You walked up to the front desk with your paperwork to greet the busty woman sitting there, her bright green eyes darting up at you from beneath her bangs. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders and the coils, along with her breasts bounced lightly as she moved. A flush of red swam across your cheeks and you tried to avert your gaze, pushing your view back up to her eyes.

"Hello!, I'm (y/n)! I'm here to see-", By the time you'd gotten past your name, she'd already found you on the list.

"Ah! (y/n), Spelled like this right?", She showed you the clipboard and smiled, pointing to your name with a pen. You nodded and returned her cheery expression.

"Yep! That's me!", She nodded and stood, you could now see her red, partially unbuttoned blouse and tight, black, knee-length skirt. As your eyes traveled down her body, they fell on her lovely bright red heels. All of these colors complemented her Olive skin delightfully, so much so that it was very difficult not to stare.

"Come on, hun. Follow me.", I wandered closely behind her and she led me into a large warehouse-type hallway, with many different doors leading into different hallways or rooms. We walked down the hallway and into a blue door on the left. She scanned her keycard and the door buzzed open.

"Once you've been here for a couple of days and decide that you'd like to continue, we will give you a keycard. Until then, I will come let you in."

The door opened into a large waiting area, The flooring was a beautiful dark wood, leading up to the furniture. All of the furniture was luxurious, the arms swirling elegantly. The couches and chairs were a red fabric with black flowers strewn across them, little whisps of swirls against the flower pattern. There was a Traditional Gold Damask on Bright Red Wallpaper lining the walls, all the way to a front desk with another woman with red hair and blue eyes looking up from her paperwork through her glasses.

"Oh! Is this the new hire? They're gorgeous!"

"Yes isn't he? I just know the clientele is going to love him. Alright, Cassandra, I'm going to take him back. Don't send in anyone too rough until his third day please."

She smiled and Cassandra nodded, "Of course Andromeda. As always."

She returned to her paperwork and the dark-haired woman led me into a room with an "Employees only" Sign.

"Alright, and If you just strip down, You'll be led to your room for the night. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, would you prefer human clients or monsters-", You'd almost forgotten monsters would be an option, but you felt your heart race at the idea. You'd never been with a monster before and the very thought put slick between your thighs.

"Monsters- please.", You said politely. She nodded and left you in the room by yourself. You looked into the body-length mirror as you undressed, hearing Cassandra's words in your head, calling you gorgeous. You were feeling super confident.

You heard a soft rap on your door, "May I come in, (y/n)?"

"Yes, I'm ready...", You bashfully covered yourself but only slightly. Andromeda smiled at you and gave you a soft look up and down.

"You look beautiful, come with me this way to your room.", You nodded and walked slowly behind her as she opened the door and led you down the red hallway, Along the wall, there were dark, red cushioned lifts that hung about 3 feet above the ground. The same wallpaper as the waiting room shines softly in the dim lighting. The woman opened a door with her keycard, another "Employees only" sign hanging from it.

As you entered, the hallway wrapped around as if to mirror the one you were just in, full of box-like rooms that were slightly elevated. She opened one of the secure doors, as you looked inside, the room was filled with that same, cushioned material, a pillow built into a table in the middle, and a red button hung next to the door.

"I'm going to open the door and you will put your rear end and your knees on the other side of the wall. It will secure your hips in place, and you will put your abdomen on this table. when your lower half is secured, this wall will open a small hole in front of you and the table will adjust you fowars slightly, or this wall will get closer to you."

You tried to keep up with what she was saying as you looked all over the room, figuring out how the mechanisms functioned so well. There must've been a lot of science, engineering, and thought put into these rooms. Andromeda scanned her card on the button pad, which helped adjust the walls and seating.

Once your hips were through the wall, and your knees were comfortable; you adjusted the closeness of the wall, and a hole opened up. The hole was right up next to your mouth and you couldn't help but daydream. Just thinking about the randomly colored cocks that would be in your face, how they might taste, and how thick they might be. More slick dripped down your thigh and you prayed no one would notice.

"Alright, are you comfortable?"

"Yes, Ma'am", She looked over her clipboard at how you addressed her as she checked off boxes, you almost wished she would play with you herself, now shamelessly staring at her chest, or at least what you could see under her clipboard.

"Would you like an aphrodisiac?", You looked at her confused and blushed.

"What- is that?", Andromeda put her clipboard to her hip and smiled,

"It's a drug, more spasifically a gass for us as a compsany, that makes you feel extra- in the mood."

She winked and chuckled. You nodded and looked down shamefully, "Yes please-"

"Alright hun, I'll be sure to set you up before we open. I'm going to ho around to the other side and make sure your legs are as open as they need to be, Ill close the wall once you're adjusted and we'll help all the other girls in. While you're waiting well hit you with the drugs okay?"

"Mhm"

You answered softly and let yourself relax, resting your arms on the rectangular table, your back arching softly as you adjusted. You were happy to find there was another armrest and a small lift button for the table. You messed with it, raising the table slightly and lowering it. You rested your arms on the wall, armrest, practicing how you would suck on the monsters that offered their cocks to you. Andromeda could be heard behind you,

"Oh, my~", she giggled softly as she examined you.

"Someone's exited huh? Alright, do you mind if I touch your legs and thighs? Make you look presentable?"

"No, I dont mind."

She hummed softly as her soft hands wrapped around your calves, pulling your legs carefully apart and gently spreading your pussy lips but making sure not to touch your aching hole. You wished she would, you imagined her acrylics gently rubbing at your insides, her fingertips rubbing your G-spot. You gasped softly when you felt her spread you, and she heard.

"Alright, you're all set up and look monster-ready", She chuckled and made her way back to the front hallway.

"Ok sweety, I'm going to close the holes around you and obviously the one in front of you will just close. The room will fill with a light gass, but it shouldn't feel suffocating. If it does, or anything hurts or goes wrong, press that red button to your left. Am I understood?"

You nodded and looked into her bright green eyes. You wanted to make her proud and prove you deserved to stay and that you could do the best at your job. Maybe you'd get a reward for doing well.

The hole closed and the wall behind you clenched tightly around your hips. This made you feel secure and the squeeze made you feel secure. A robotic voice sounded in a speaker,

"Is your waist secured too tightly?", I sat there for a moment and I answered out loud not sure what else I could do.

"No."

"Good. Prepare for Aphrodisiac.", As the voice went silent, you heard a soft hissing, and quiet music began to play. You took a few purposeful deep breaths as you let your mind wander to the various creatures that might violate you.

You hadn't realized how much time had gone by and soon the hole in front of you opened up and the hole around your hip loosened slightly. You could hear talking behind you, a deep gruff voice sounding out.

"Good- gods... Look at this one-", Another voice soon to follow.

"Damn, I wonder how good his mouth is...(y/n) huh? Cute name. I'll take the mouth first then we can swap out."

You looked down to see the drool pooled against your chin and your face flushed in embarrassment. You sat upright, trying to ready yourself for the fun.

"Ooh. You're really exited for this huh?", A harsh slap fell across your ass, causing you to moan out. The creature laughed and you felt a pointed tip against your sloppy hole.

Soon a thick, green cock was pushed through the hole in front of you, the pre-cum-covered tip pressed lightly against your cheek. The feeling of it was amazing, the drugs filling your head with so much glee. You rested your weight on your elbows and took hold of; what you were assuming was an orc's cock with both hands and rubbed the leaking, pink-tinted tip all over your face.

A soft groan could be heard from the other side of the wall and the creature began to thrust into the hole and against your face.

"Fuuck yes.. god whatever you're doing, pretty boy- keep going-", This excited you, and you happily obliged, and began to softly kiss against his soft tip. You smeared his leaking cum against your lips like salty lipgloss.

The animal behind you thrusted into your cunt roughly, causing you to pull the Orc just into your lips and moan out around him.

"Mmm!", You pushed your hips back against the man behind you.

"Very eager arent you, Sweetheart... I'm going to make you into a delightful little cum-mutt.", he growled as he began to push his hips forward into you, filling you and letting your walls stretch around him, all the way down to his inflating knot.

You were praying it was a Were-Tiger, you loved how handsome they were, their enticing colors, a Lion, or maybe a panther- the daydreams swam around in your head as you began to throat the Orc without much thought, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip.

"Oh my god, that's so fucking good- yes- Good boy. I might become a regular if you keep this up...", this was encouragement, and you began to suck him into your throat deeper, bobbing your head faster.

You felt a set of claws sink into your hips deeply, but not breaking skin as the creature behind you pounded into you and pressed his knot as hard as he could against you. It was obvious how much he wanted to force it in.

The hole in front of you was big enough to fit the orc's balls through and you used one hand to steady his cock in your mouth, the other reaching down to fondle and squeeze them teasingly. Another soft hissing noise filled the space next to you and a little of the gas spilled out of the holes, encouraging the monsters to be more aggressive with you.

Your holes were getting violently fucked from both ends now and you could feel their lengths pulsing and throbbing against your walls and esophagus. You moaned loudly over the orc's cock, the vibrations sending him into a thrusting frenzy as he forced himself as deeply into your mouth as he could, cum filling your throat quicker than you could swallow, the warmth flooding your chest as you tried not to gag and choke.

Soon after, you felt the man behind you shove his knot into you as he came, his sharp tip pressing against your sensitive cervix. You squirted against him and pressed back against him, trying to ride out your orgasm on his knot. As your pussy clenched and grabbed at his cock, he made sure to grind with you, milking himself as much as he could. The orc pulled out of the hole in front of you and you could hear his heavy breathing as he leaned on the wall.

"Oh my- fuck that was so good.."

You moaned even louder, now that your mouth wasn't full as the man began to fuck you with his knot, popping it in and out as he continued to drain himself. He pulled out and groped your ass affectionately. You happily spaced out and arched your back, laying down and breathing for a moment. After about two minutes you felt a set of two giant fingers rub up and down your pussy and asshole.

The orc was using both you and the man's juices to lubricate both of your holes. You pushed your hips back against his fingers needily.

"Hold on sweet boy. I'll be inside of you soon.", This made you let out a soft pathetic whine, and then a thick, red, textured cock entered the hole in front of you. You immediately wrapped your mouth and hand around him excitedly, circling your tongue around his length.

A roar sounded from the other side, and he immediately began to fuck your mouth, which you were practically begging for. One of the orc's fingers slipped into your pussy, filling it even more than the other creature's cock did.

You drooled more around the man's length and rubbed him vigorously as you finally got to see the knot that filled you. You reached up with your free hand and treated him as you did the orc, massaging his knot and squeezing it tightly.

The orc pushed his fingers into you, into both stretching your holes. He eased them into you and your walls clenched hungrily around them. He chuckled and removed his finger from your pussy, keeping one in your virgin asshole. He moved his finger gently in and out and you could feel his tip against your cunt. The idea of his pretty tip against you made you clench more, just to squeeze out any of your slicks that you could. You'd spend all day sucking it if you could.

"Good boy~ Keep up like that and I'm going to cum down your delicious- feeling throat. God yes- right there-", The man in front of you cooed at you and you moaned around his tip louder as the orc entered you. You swirled your tongue aggressively around his tip and flicked your tongue over the small crease and hole.

His hips spasmed, forcing his cock into your mouth as his throbbing cock spewed warm, sticky cum into your mouth. You pushed your head forward to get the rest of him into your mouth, even trying to fit his knot into your mouth. You felt like your jaw was going to unhinge, but were almost excited to suck on it.

"Ugh- F-God!!", He milked himself into your mouth and tried to help shove himself into your hungry jaws, almost getting off to the feeling of your teeth scraping against his large knot.

The orc pushed himself into you deeply, enough to tease himself by rubbing against the hole of your cervix.

"Mmm, you're so tight-", He chuckled deeply and pulled his finger out of your ass and took your hips into his hands, gripping you securely as he began to thrust in and out.

The man in front of you pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to gasp and cough softly. You wiped your mouth and giggled dazedly, happily arching your back for the monster behind you.

It wasn't long before he couldn't help himself and began to greedily move faster. A soft tapping could be heard as his balls slapped softly against your clit, providing extra stimulation for yourself. You moaned loudly and cursed softly.

You began to grope your tits, pinching at your nipples with one hand and ducking on your fingers with the other, missing the feeling of something in your mouth. Your tongue felt lonely, but your pussy was being very well taken care of. The orc was shaped so wonderfully, his cock was slightly thicker in the middle, rubbing every single weak spot you had. You wanted to hold in your orgasm for as long as possible but were not successful, squirting against him and pushing your hips back into him to encourage your orgasm.

He happily moved his hips slower, guiding you through the rest of your orgasm. After you'd finished, he pulled out of you and pressed himself against you asshole.

"Now, I get to treat you like a real boy-", He laughed and pushed himself roughly into your ass and moved aggressively. The orc was needy for your tightness, huffing and grunting like an animal as he took you. You could feel his big hands wrapping around your whole waist as he used you like a fleshlight.

A heavy fog settled over you as you lay down against the table, happily just trying to relax your body for the other. You could hear the other creature talking to the orc behind you.

"God he looks so good when he's full, and his pussy is leaking cum.", The orc laughed as he thrusted.

"Isn't he? and his ass is so fucking tight- I can't get enough. We'll- UIgh- definitely have to come back-", The orc leaned forward and rested some of his weight against your back, you could feel the warmth and sweat on his chest. Your whines and whimpers subsided to quiet breaths of foggy salvation.

"We should request a private room with him, if he ended up a perma-hire." You could sense the other monster's eyes on you. You imagined him looking down at you like a steak and drooling against the soft fabric beneath you.

"God- I'm so close-", The orc grunted as he drove himself as hard as he could into you, groaning and laughing as he fucked you into a happy stupor. You felt a hot liquid burst into you and you screamed out, your tongue hanging out like a dog.

He panted and held himself inside of you for a moment before carefully pulling out. They both laughed softly and ran their hands and paws over your thighs and waist.

"You did so good for us pretty boy, we'll be back to see you again if we can. Maybe we'll have the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous face. It has to be as beautiful as your body."

They both gave your ass a good slap before you heard them leave. After a moment, you heard mechanisms wiring and the door around your hips was opened as well as the door in front of you. Your eyes drifted up to see the busty secretary who led you back here.

"Hiii Andromedaaa...", You slurred softly and giggled, absolutely fucked out of your mind. She smiled down at you and moved the hair out of your face.

"Did you have fun darling?", Her voice was soft and she held her clipboard up with her pen ready.

"It was very wonderful, I had so much fun.", She nodded and wrote something down.

"Mhm. Did they treat you well?", Her eyes didn't leave her paper.

"Yes, Ma'am.", She once more wrote something down and helped you out of the machine after tucking the clipboard under her arm. You smiled and wobbled slightly.

"Would you like some help? We have some really strong staff who can hold you up or carry you to your room to rest.", You nodded and looked around, trying to find something for you to steady yourself. Andromeda pulled a small walkie-talkie from her pocket and spoke into it.

"Hey, Can you send a carrier here, to hall 3-A please?", Within mere moments, a woman walked into the hall, she must've been at least 5ft 11'. You gawked at her, she was built very strongly, her breasts blending with muscle.

"Hello, I'll be your Carrior for the night. May I?", She smiled and opened her arms, taking a step closer. You nodded and replied softly. She had a soft Southern accent that made me swoon.

"Mhm- Please-", You reached out for her and did your best to stumble over to her. She picked you up carefully, bridal style. You looked up and studied her features. She had Darker skin than Andromeda's olive tint, a delightful, deep caramel color. Her hair was up in a ponytail or a messy bun, you couldn't tell very well. It looked to be a box dyed red but over her already dark hair.

She carried you to the room you had undressed in and into a side room you hadn't noticed. It was a bathroom with a luxurious bath and she gently laid you in it.

"Would you like me to turn on the water for you?", Her face tinted slightly darker as she looked you over.

"Yes please", You smiled up at her, blushing as well. She turned the water on to a nice hot temperature used a small picture and filled it with warm water, gently rinsing you off. The bath was then plugged and she pulled another pitcher off of the counter that was full of a creme-colored liquid and what looked like flower petals.

"If you dont mind my sayin' so- you look very pretty, uhm-", She gingerly poured the milk bath mixture into the water and over your body.

"(Y/N)", You added and giggled at her bashfullness.

"Got it. Well, I'm gonna let you clean up alright? Sure you can manage?", She stood, folding her arms in front of her like a bouncer at a club.

"Yes, I think I'll be alright.", You giggled more and smiled big. She nodded and opened the door to leave.

"You just uh- Let me know if you need me alright?"

"Alright.", You watched as she left and waited until hearing the second door to your room close before squealing happily, the night had gone amazingly and you'd been carried back to your room by the most attractive woman you thought you'd ever seen. You'd definitely be staying.

(Not my art, found on google :3)

58 notes · View notes

m1sa-w1sa · 4 months

Note

Can you do another S/O is a Dark lord reincarnated but with other Lumine and Archons like Ei, Zhongi, and Nahida? I'm curious what the Archons would think the one they love is the dark lord they destroyed all those years ago reincarnated but they are not aware of their past life.

(Ty for the first request of the day annon! This is mostly angst becuase i was feeling a bit silly but i did a little fluff for nahida TW: SUICIDE, DEATH/EXECUTION)

Sheep in Wolfs clothing

Lumine

•When she found out your past life was the dark lord she was schocked

•Paimon said that you to should break up for the greater good but She thinks she should ask you first

•”I dont know what your talking about! Theres no way!” You responded but lumine didnt believe you

•She thought you were lying so she did what was best for her left you, you tried to reason with lumine but she didnt listen just pushing you away leaving you with your tears on your face

•Finally when she realizes what shes done she doesnt know what to do, she just cut off the person that helped her through her adventures, made her smile, laugh, happy and becuase of her choice your gone now

“Im sorry [NAME]..”

Raiden Ei

•She jumped to conclusions quick, what if you were plotting against her? You were USING her so you can trap the whole world into darkness were you?!

•She confronted you as soon as she found out, when you said you aren’t familiar on what she means she did that believe you

•She had Hatamotos (Inazuma Guards) take you away saying the 5 worfd that broke your heart

“Your execution is tomorrow, traitor”

•You pleaded trying to get her to understand but she would just turn away blinded by her pride

•The day came, you were in front of everyone you were trembling in fear as everyone was booing you throwing things at you, but Raiden didnt care you were the traitor, right?

•Raiden walked up behind you her blade raising into the air

“Any last words?”

“I love you—“

•right agter those words you would fall to the ground, a lifeless body as everyone was cheering and happy! Raiden should be to.. shouldnt she?•

•She was angry at herself, not only she killed the person that LOVED HER she will never feel her touch, her lips against hers, arms rapped around her, hands through her head She realized it was her doing..

“Please [NAME] in another life..forgive me”

Zhongli

•He most likely found out through Xiao or Ganyu so when he did he was conflicted on what to do

•Ganyu said he should keep you close to make sure nothing happens, but Xiao thinks he should banish you

•So zhongli picked, you HAD to go

•He confronted you about it and you said you didnt know, thats what made him want to kick you out more

“You were using this whole time werent you”

•He wasnt going to kick you out just then in there, no.. he was going to make everyone look at you there stares were in disgust, telling at you

“DISGRACE!”

“MONSTER”

“YOU WHORE”

•You walked out of there in shame having no where to go then one place

•Zhongli had thought he had done the right thing for liyue, Yes, he didnt want you, a traitor to put it into darkness again! Well thats what ye thought until he saw your body hanging from a tree lifeless and a tear stained face

“Darling..Oh my sweet sweet darling.. Im so sorry”

Nahida

•She first found out by reading a book, the looks, features.. hair, smile, hands, body all looked the same

•So of course she didnt jump to conclusions and she asked you first you saying you didnt know gave her peace

•She kept that a secret so no one else could harm you but she also reads your mind from time to time but there isnt any indication that you remember anything

“Its ok Dear! Im not mad!”

(Finished!! Hope you enjoyed!)

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #pearlsrequests #lumine #lumine x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #raiden shogun #Raidan Shogun x reader #nahida #Nahida x reader

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 5 months

Note

Alright, and here's request #2

May I ask for Fives and Fox

with Prompt 14: Last Words

Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".

Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

In Your Head

Fox

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: none

Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives

Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.

It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.

It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.

Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.

Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?

Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.

Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.

"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.

Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.

"Talk to me," Thorn says.

"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.

Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."

"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn says.

Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."

"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckles. "I don't know."

Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.

"Fox," Thorn prods.

"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.

"I don't remember," Fox says.

"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.

Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.

"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.

Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.

Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?

Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.

Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.

Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.

Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.

Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.

Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.

Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.

Hi Fox , a voice says.

Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.

Fox , the voice says.

Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.

Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.

Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.

Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.

He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.

Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.

Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.

"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.

The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.

Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"

The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.

Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.

Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nods.

Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."

Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"So are you," Fox smirks.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.

Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?

Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.

Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.

I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .

Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."

"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .

"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too , the apparition says.

"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.

Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.

Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.

The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .

Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."

It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?

He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.

Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.

The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.

"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.

What are you talking about? the apparition asks.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.

C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.

Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?

Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."

Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.

Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.

A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.

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alexalbono23 · 1 year

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In the Austrian Hills Part 2 (Lando Norris smut)

WARNINGS - 18+, sexual content

Summary - After a frustrating Austrian GP Lando takes all of his anger out on you, using his monstrous weapon. (Based on a request. Keep them coming! )

You may have given him the best blowjob of his life but it didn't help Lando in the way you had hoped for the race. Once again the McLaren underperformed and Lando only managed a P14, which was frustrating for him and the team.

Shortly after the race had ended you quickly uploaded the results onto the teams social media accounts and immideatly headed to Landos driver room.

It was time to finish things.

You knocked on the door and Lando open it. He already had showered and only had a towel rapped around his waist. "Oh, it's you again", he said as you walked in. He closed the door and immideatly dropped his towel, leaving his big meat exposed. "Thought I give it a bit of breathing room when you are here". You smiled and whispered in his ear: "I want you to fuck me after this shitshow".

Lando gulped for a second but then everything happened so quickly. He threw you onto the coach and stripped you off your top, exposing your tits. His dick dangled down as it grew to its 9 inch maximum. He put it between your tits, making them explod cause he was so thick. After a few minutes of this he ordered you to take your shorts off, exposing your clit. He sat on the couch as he entered you and you begann to ride him. It was painful yes, but in a good way. He set a rapid pace leading you to scream down the entire paddock: "Lando you monster"

After a few minutes he exploded, filling you up with his creamy seed.

"Oh my god", you said.

"If I hadn't become a racing driver I would have become a porn star", he joked and you smiled.

Damn, Lando Norris was a good fucker.

#f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year

Text

Irish Kings: Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @anime-weeb-4-life @chaoticqueenie98 @wakeama @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @kishie8 @msjava1972 @thelonewolfwillsurvive @thanossexual @nu1freakshow @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @jtelford @the-wandering-lunatic @@lora21 @darqchilddaydreamz @ankhmutes @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @keyweegirlie @poppyrose33 @belovedbastardremus @crimeshowjunkie @theeyesofthestag @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @ambassadortotrilliusprime @yvette22 @legally-a-bastard @thequeenoftheisleofavalon @joyfulfxckery @thanossexual @justreblogginfics

Story Arc:

Punishment - Chibs never thought the work he does for the club would blow back on you.

Silver & Gold - Chibs underestimates your resilience.

Pound of Flesh - Chibs knows that Galen took more than his pound of flesh.

Only You (NSFW) - Chibs and you share a moment of peace.

Queen - You come face to face with your monster.

Matriarch - Chibs and you take a step forward in your relationship.

Moving On - You and Chibs discuss moving forward.

There’s an Irish King sitting in your kitchen when you return home from work. It strikes you that their involvement in your life is becoming a regular occurrence, an unwelcome one.

Declan Brogan stands at your granite countertop, pouring hot water into a teapot. The scent of Earl Grey fills the air, flooding your nostrils as you step inside of the room. He doesn’t look up, he simply removes two mugs from your cupboard and sets them upon the oak tea tray, alongside a plate of shortbread. The signet ring on his finger catches the light and it takes you back for a moment, to a different time, one where Galen’s hand is wrapped around your throat, his face buried in your hair as he…

Your jaw tenses before you shake off the memory.

“If you’ve come here to kill me, can we take it elsewhere?” You request, thinking about the gun in your bag in the living room. “We both know how tough it is to get blood out of hardwood.”

To your surprise he laughs, it’s a rich hearty sound that resonates through the room as he adds a small milk jug to the tray.

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.” He tells you light heartedly before gesturing to the kitchen table. “Shall we sit down and talk over tea like civilised people?”

You take the seat reluctantly, crossing your legs, one over the other as you adjust the hem of your pencil skirt. Declan picks up the tea tray and brings it to the table, setting it gently down in front of you. Out of all your experience with the kings this is the most surreal.

“Shall I be mother?” he says before picking up the teapot and pouring the tea into your cup.

You watch him stoically, your fingertips rapping lightly upon the surface of the table.

“If you aren’t here to kill me…”

“I’m here to thank you.” Declan informs you taking up residence in the seat across from you. He picks up a piece of shortbread and pops it into his mouth. “You solved a problem that has been plaguing us for a number of years.”

You pick up your teacup and look at Declan over the rim.

“You mean the Sons did.”

There’s silence between the two of you as his gaze comes to rest upon you. You take a deliberate sip before setting the teacup down and meeting his eyes.

“Lass, we know what happened.” He tells you. “Do you think you were the only one, the first one?”

For a second, you’re stunned. The implications of the statement rush through your brain as you slot pieces of the puzzle together. You knew there were other victims, Galen had taken great pride in telling you that during your time together, but it wasn’t until now you realised how systemic it was, that the Kings knew, and they did fuck all about it.

Powerful men in powerful positions, you think, and it leaves a bitterness on your tongue.

“So, you knew.” You say unable to keep the ire out of your voice. “You knew what he’s been doing and you just let him keep doing it, because what… its effective? It gets you what you want?”

“We don’t condone his methods…”

“His methods?” You spit at him. “Do you understand what it is like to have something like that happen to you? To have your dignity stripped away from you? You’re soul fucking destroyed because some asshole wants to teach the man you love a lesson? He tortured me in your fucking name, and you helped him get away with it, the same way you have every other fucking time.”

“I know what it’s like to be on the other side of it.” He snaps back at you. “To know it happened to someone that you love, to watch them struggle with the weight of it every single day, I know what it’s like to look at my grandchild and see his eyes and know….” He inhales sharply as he meets your eyes, his own burning with a rage that mirrors your own. “My daughter was a good Catholic girl. When I imposed sanctions because of his behaviour he retaliated by violating her over and over again until she became pregnant. He looked in my face and toasted me the night my grandson was born, and he called it a blessing.”

You collapse back in your seat, shaking your head as you listen to his story. You can see the weight he carries on his shoulders, the emotional toll it takes to live with something like that. It doesn’t change anything, you're still so fucking angry but that pain, the agony that nestles deep down in your chest it’s shared. You aren’t the only one tarnished by Galen.

“He was a fucking monster, but the cause needed him.” Declan says vehemently. “I couldn’t get my hands on him unless he was declared a traitor, it would have torn the True IRA apart, so I had to wait…”

“And then I took care of it.” You state frankly. “The Sons handed you the evidence of his side dealings, and I gave you a body. The whole thing all tied up neatly in a bow.”

“I can never repay you for what you did.” He tells you fiercely. “My daughter can sleep again knowing that her rapist is buried in the ground.”

Your gaze shifts to the kitchen window. There’s a bird house just outside, a pretty wooden one that your niece made with Filip the last time she was over. You watch the birds as they flit in and out of it, chirping to one another. You remember watching the two of them together in the workshop outback of Teller Morrow, how happy Filip had been to create something, to be part of a family again. You think of Tig and his partner Suzy, of the baby they have on the way, of Jax and his two little ones and everyone else, the peace that they all deserve to have in their lives because the last few years have been filled with violence and chaos and right now you have an opportunity to end some of that.

“There is a way you can repay me.” You say quietly as you sip from your teacup. “The Sons want out of the gun business; I want that to happen. No retaliation. No buy out. A clean break, you go your way, and they go theirs.”

It was what had started this whole mess to begin with, it seems fitting that this is how it ends. The very thing that Galen had strove to prevent was now his legacy. You hoped the son of a bitch was turning in his grave.

Declan inclines his head towards you, his gaze meeting yours. You can tell that the deal is done, that this man would have given you anything you asked for because you took away the source of his nightmares, you slayed not only your monster but his as well.

“I’ll put the calls in.” He assures you as he raises to his feet, signalling the end of your exchange.

You follow suit, your hands clasped in front of you as he strides towards the backdoor that you certainly did not leave unlocked. He pauses for a moment before glancing at you over his shoulder.

“Take care deirfiúr bheag.” He says fondly. “And God help the next person that crosses you.”

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archieimagines · 2 years

Text

finally | cassian andor

Summary: Cassian Andor is the bane of your existence. He’s your rival in theft, always getting the good ships before you, always making more money in selling to Bix. Finally, you get there first— but of course he’d come to ruin your day.

warnings: blood, injury, needle and stitches. enemies to lovers un-enemies trope. read this to listen to me pretend to know about spaceships. word count: 3030 requested by: anon author’s note: thank you so much for this brilliant idea, anon! you may be able to tell i got carried away. i had a lot of fun with this. requests for andor are wide open! written by: archie

Finally, this one was yours.

You couldn’t help feeling a little giddy. This star yacht was definitely on the higher end of luxury, and it’d been sat unmanned on the outskirts of town for five days straight. Sure, it’d been purposely tucked away amongst sandy cliffs to hide it, but as per the general moral code, five unattended days on a ship put it on the illegal scavenger’s market. Fair’s fair. You thieves weren’t monsters, after all.

Your expert fingers worked swiftly with a wedge tool on lifting the panels from the front of the space vehicle to get at all those glorious parts inside. With a satisfying click, the central panel popped free.

The sun was just peering over the horizon to light your focus, all that treasure lit up in the golden light.

Your smile lit up too. Finally. A haul that was all yours. For once, it was so worth it to wake up before sunrise. No one to watch out for, not even that stupid, arrogant, condescending-

“What have we got here?”

You stopped in your tracks, fingers itching to get inside the engine.

That voice.

Infuriating.

He painted his words like a casual conversation. Like this was a joint effort. Like you hadn’t specifically woken up this early just to beat him to this goldmine. You’d barely slept last night for the excitement of finally bringing in a collection worth a good wad of cash, and yet he had the gall to pop up beside you and peer over your shoulder.

You reeled on him, fire in your eyes and sharp wedge in your hand. “Andor. Get out of here.”

He had the balls to laugh. He treated this so light, like you hadn’t been so determined to finally outdo him. “And leave you to carry all this back by yourself? I couldn’t possibly.” He had this irritating skill in being rude while being perfectly within his bounds. He simply reached past you without concern for your threat, rapping his knuckles lightly on various parts tucked away. “There’s a lot of good stuff here. Nice condition, too. We can’t take all of it, of course, we don’t want an angry holidaymaker stuck on our planet-”

“You’re taking none of it.”

“-But we can take the extras. Let me see…”

He bent at the waist to lean over the hole of the removed panel, reaching in and feeling around without so much as a blink at you.

That was it!

You jabbed the wedge into his ribs.

His arm retracted so quickly to protect his side, and he finally turned to you with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow as he rubbed his side over his coat. “Agh! What the-!? What was that for?”

“Shut up, I barely touched you.” You couldn’t keep the smugness from your voice as you nudged him aside, away from your engine, and promptly took his place to rummage around inside instead. It’s true, you wanted him to feel that jab even despite his coat. It was kinda hard.

“You want it so bad that you’re gonna stab me?”

“Don’t cry on my engine, you’ll rust it.”

There was no time for this chitchat. You dipped into your belt for a different removal tool, starting work right away. You wouldn’t remove anything integral: those parts weren’t worth much anyways. But the fuel ignition stabiliser… Oh, yes. It was a luxury. Gave the journey the smoothest ride possible. No clattering, no trembling of the ship. It’d be four or five thousand credits, easily.

If only it wasn’t so damn hard to remove.

You were hyper aware of Andor watching your every move, even if you were shoulder deep inside the machine. His stare didn’t make reaching around components easier in the slightest, and your arm was bent at an awkward and supremely uncomfortable angle- but you wouldn’t let him know that. He’d just take over, for sure.

But when the corner of your palm nicked on sharp metal, you couldn’t hide the wince.

“Look, you’re going to injure yourself. Let me. Move over.”

“Not likely.”

“I’ve been doing this longer than you. I can easily-”

“Exactly! So you should give someone else a chance.” You tried not to let your voice strain from the effort of pulling out the stabiliser, especially with the fresh scratch to your palm. This was not easy, and he was really just making you frantic with his presence.

“Whenever I give you a chance, something ends up damaged!” Ah, there it was. That familiar exasperation, delivered with a growl in his accent. This was the Andor you knew best-- the one that hated you right back.

You paused, face turned to glare up at his impatient eyes. “Sir. I don’t damage shit.”

“If that makes you feel better. Come on, just-” His fingers reached into the hatch and closed around your forearm, a gentle squeeze and tug to your limb.

That was it. You saw red.

“Don’t you manhandle me- AH!” You whipped your arm out to shove him back a pace-- But it caught nastily on that jagged piece of metal. It snagged down the side of your palm, causing a deep, pulsing gash. There was no way you could shove him back with that hand.

Your face paled as you dropped your tool and blinked at the thick ooze of red that trickled down the side of your wrist, quickly soaking your sleeve. It stung like nothing you’d handled before, eyes watering, head pounding. You couldn’t help but stare at it, trembling.

But Andor was on it. He wasted no time in ripping along the bottom of his shirt for a makeshift bandage, wasted no time in chastising you. “Dank farrik, you really-! You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

“Me!? This was all you!”

“Oh, don’t give me that.” Skilled hands wound the bandage around your cut far too tightly to be comfortable, and you winced. But he paid no mind, quiet in his concentration as he worked. His aura had changed, as if his head was now cut off from communication. He was too focused, brimming with a panic that he kept silent.

Something told you there was no speaking to him now. Even if you tried to reason that you’d had so much worse many times, his tunnel vision was fixed on stenching the bloodflow. He tied the bandage off, clasping your hand firmly in both of his, raised between your faces to make sure it was above your heart. You had to actively try not to yelp from the pain of his care, but something about the urgent responsibility he demonstrated was so sincere.

He really was doing his best for you. You almost felt bad for blaming him.

His eyes were so focused, his lips pressed together in a concentrated line. There was no trace of that demeaning, condescending asshole you were used to. Something about this… Hm. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a terrible-

No, don’t think like that, you chastised yourself, peeling your gaze from his face. You couldn’t let yourself see him like that. He’d made your life hell for years.

Though the pain was dulled with the pressure of his hold, you were far from fine. The blood may have slowed, but it soaked the ends of his own sleeves now, too, and continued to spread.

“Let’s get you back home. You need medical attention.”

“But the stabiliser-”

“No. Home. Let’s go.” He didn’t drop your hand as he took a step away, leading you back towards the centre of the town, but you dug your heels into the sand.

“No, just- Quickly! You do it, we can go half-”

He jerked you close, face leaning to yours. Your eyes grew wide at this proximity- he’d never been this close before. The warm hues of his eyes caught the rising sunlight, lashes casting delicate shadows over his irises.

Despite how your memories always painted him, they were kind eyes. Honest ones. It was his furrowed brows that reminded you how sharp his will was, and the growl of his accent rolled over his words as he hissed.

“Listen to me. There will be more ships, but there will not be more hands. I’m taking you home, and for once you’re not going to argue with me.”

The bleeding had finally stopped by the time he’d taken you to his home. Certainly, you’d have preferred some professional medical care, but this would have to do. Besides, it’s not like what you were doing to get this gash was particularly legal.

He settled you onto the couch before bustling around you, picking up supplies and towels and wipes as he went, soon appearing beside you with a tray of items to help, including a bowl of fresh water and…

“A needle? There’s no chance. You’re not stitching me up, Andor.”

“I am. Bee, come over here.”

A squat little red box rattled to life from the other side of the room and rolled up to Andor’s feet on treads, clattering the whole way. “C-C-Cassian! That was much q-quicker than usual.”

“I didn’t get the parts. There was an accident.” Andor placed the tray atop the droid’s flat head and the circle lens turned to you instead, honing in on the blood.

“Oh n-n-no, there has been bodily damage to your friend. I can aid.” The droid either ignored your grumble of something about ‘not friends’ or just didn’t receive it. It let a hatch fall open, revealing a collection of packaged gauzes. You marvelled at his endearingly happy disposition, despite the broken antiquity of his model, obvious wiring problems, and living with this man. You already knew you liked him more than Andor.

“Thanks, Bee,” the man said, surprisingly gentle hands taking your arm. He was clean now, coat removed and hands sanitised to peel open the soaked fabric wrapped around your wound. It stuck to your arm hairs from how it’d begun to dry and you winced as it tugged from your skin, but this didn’t knock his concentration.

He eyed the open injury for a moment in silence. The soft sounds of the city waking up outside was muffled against the windows, the bell sounding for the residents to begin their day. And yet, you’d already had too much of this man for the whole week.

But, he was doing you a favour. So, you pressed your lips into a line and arched a brow as he investigated your wound like it was life or death, even though you honestly found the aching sting pretty manageable. You tried to keep your patience in line, you really did. But it was almost like he was specifically taking as long as he could. “You gonna do something about it or not, Andor?”

The sharpness of your tone didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Cassian,” he said.

“What?”

“Just call me Cassian. It’s not like you don’t know me.” He was so matter-of-fact as he spoke, turning away to dunk a clean cloth into the bowl of warm water, and you had to briefly wonder if he had no idea that you hated him.

Pft, of course he knew. But he really chose not to entertain it. He belittled it, even. Somehow, that made you hate him even more.

“I don’t know you.”

He let a trickle of water drip from the rag, holding it over the wound along your palm to loosen up the dried blood; the sting earned a hiss from you, but he didn’t bat an eyelid. “We’ve been bumping into each other since we were teenagers. I know where you live and you’re in my house right now. My mother knows your name. You know me.”

Okay, that was true. You searched for a way to dispute him, but you had nothing. Andor really knew how to- Cassian. Cassian really knew how to talk people into a corner. Infuriating.

“Fine.”

“You should say it.”

“Say what?”

“My name.”

You blinked at him, but he didn’t look at you. He was ridiculous. Methodical as ever, he dipped the cloth back into the water before closing it properly around the side of your palm with a wet squeeze.

A sharp stab of pain.

“Ow, Cassian! Gentle!”

His gaze finally raised to yours, and there was a cheeky light to them that matched the slightest upward quirk of his lips. He’d done that on purpose. “Quiet. Maarva’s sleeping.”

“You’re an ass.”

“So you always tell me.”

You let that one slide, quietly amused.

Somehow, it felt like a bubble had burst as he continued cleaning your wound. He was gentle with you, focused but not nearly so intense, and an easy silence lapsed between the two of you. The negative energy had given out into something else-- Somehow, you couldn’t find it in you to be at his throat like before. You must’ve upgraded to handling Cassian instead of Andor, you mused.

His eyes flashed up to yours, seeking any pain. You held his gaze for the shortest moment before turning it back to your wound, somehow embarrassed to look into the uncharacteristic tenderness of those windows. Satisfied that he wasn’t hurting you, he continued with delicate dabs.

Perhaps you’d made up Andor, this arrogant, cold asshole who’d been your rival for eons; Now, you were seeing past it. Seeing the human he actually was. Perhaps not flaunting of his kind nature, perhaps a little guarded, but peaceful. Cheeky, but by no means cruel.

You watched his hands work expertly with yours. One held your hand, thumb linked with yours, the other so careful with the cut running towards your pinky finger. They were a worker’s hands, a little calloused and rough in handling, but you could easily see how gentle he was trying to be. Taking it slow and steady, careful not to hurt.

“Okay, it’s clean. Can I stitch it?” Those eyes on yours again. Deep but cautious. He reached for the needle, medical thread already attached, and showed it to you.

You swallowed and peered down to the gash. Ah, it really was a deep one, it’d scar for sure. It needed all the help it could get. “You know what you’re doing?”

He nodded, the ghost of a laugh to his voice as he recalled his tens of incidents. “I have done this many times.”

“... Be careful.”

He got to work instantly, taking your hand in his and turning the cut upwards, holding it firm to keep it still. He glanced at the tip of the needle, brought it to your flesh and--

You couldn’t watch. You focused instead on his crown of messy hair. Warm brown, some strands lifted to look golden in the shine of the morning light. You could so easily reach out and touch it, see if it was as soft as it loo-

The prick of pain from the needle. You winced, but tried hard to be still for him, desperately focusing your attention on how those gorgeous locks might fall through your fingers if you touched them, how they’d differ to the coarser hair of his beard in your touch.

You gave a sigh. It was happening. You couldn’t push it away anymore.

People had told you for years that you clearly had a crush on this man, and you were adamant that you did not. He’d been the bane of your existence. He was the worst part of salvaging and stealing components. If you bumped into him, it’d ruin your whole day and you wouldn’t be able to shake him from your thoughts for hours. His annoying tone of voice, the haughty way he’d offer to help you.

But that wasn’t the truth. You’d always painted it so negatively, always convinced yourself that’s what it was. Hate. But honestly, you just never wanted to give into what you hated to admit.

And now, here, on his couch with a B2 unit watching, he’d shattered your narrative to pieces.

You felt things for him, and not in the way you wanted.

“And… Done.” He reached aside for scissors to cut the thread, dabbed a clean, dry cloth to any specs of blood that tried to seep out, and scrutinised his work. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? You did well.”

His eyes fixed on you again, relieved and expectant. He was so genuine. How hadn’t you seen it before?

You cleared your throat and diverted your eyes to your hand, inspecting his repairs. It really did look good. The gash was pulled closed and the stitches were evenly spaced and clean; a professional couldn’t have done it much better.

“Hm. Not quite as terrible as I’d expect.” Your words were softer than your usual insults. You couldn’t find it in you right now to be sharp.

But even so, he gave a low chuckle. “You’re welcome. Let me cover it.” He took a packaged gauze from the droid’s hatch and tore it open with his teeth-- A shock to your tummy told you that you found it attractive. It was lucky he was engrossed with attaching it to your wound, or he would’ve caught the way your ears flushed pink.

Quick moments passed, and he sat up straight with his lips caught in a kind smile. “Good as new.”

Your hand still rested in his. You were hyper aware of the warmth of it, the feeling of his skin, and it took everything in you not to disturb the moment with the indulgent caress you craved, in case he let go.

This was too hard. You hadn’t banked on facing something like this when you woke up this morning. You shared a reluctant smile.

His demeanour changed instantly. His eyes flickered between your palm and your face, words urgent with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, Cassian. Do you think the yacht is still there?”

“It might be.”

You sighed inwardly. Perhaps it was finally time to let go of your grudge and see him for who he was.

You shone a daring smile, a buzz in your veins at the prospect of calling an end to your rivalry.

“... Wanna go half with me?”

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