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#there were seven eggs right?
superiordutchsauce · 1 month
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A scene with Ruto and Lulu has been on my bucket list for quite some time.
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targaryen-dynasty · 5 months
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SERENITY.
Part 2
Dad!Aemond Targaryen x wife!niece!Reader
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With Aemond’s arm around you, and his lips pressing against your temple, the fatigue you were feeling could wait for a little while, if it meant you got to indulge in those rare moments of serenity for just a little bit longer.
WARNINGS: Canon typical incest/Targcest, fluff, female Reader (no mentions of appearance besides color of her eyes), mentions of difficult pregnancy and birth, soft dad!Aemond
WORDS: 1.1 K
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“Hae mērot gierūli. Se hāros bartossi.” As one we gather. And with three heads.
The voice was a distant rumble. It held a familiar edge to it, yet your tiredness made it difficult to make out where it came from. The calmness of it made you want to sink further into the silk sheets, the soft sigh leaving your lips indicating that you were close to falling asleep again – until it settled that you heard voices in your chambers. In the midst of the night.
Reaching to your side to check for the man you had married three summers ago, you couldn't feel his body right where he was supposed to sleep, the vacant spot already cold, which suggested he had been gone for quite some time by now.  
And if you had to guess, you’d say it was late into the Hour of the Owl already.
“Prūmȳsa sōvīli. Gevī dāerī.” We shall fly as we were destined. Beautifully, freely.
When your lilac eyes eventually opened, your marital chambers were only dimly illuminated, forcing them to adjust to the dark. Most candles had gone out, and not more than an ember glowed in the fireplace. The light of the moon, however, shone through the drapes hanging in front of the windows, highlighting their subtle movements in the gentle breeze, and the tall frame of your husband standing behind them. 
A deep sigh escaped your throat, one that gathered the attention of your occupied husband. You hadn’t even been aware that you had held your breath, and quickly placed a hand on your chest to stop yourself from making any more sounds, not wanting to wake your babe.
“Ēdrugon, ābrazȳrys,” he hummed, though his voice was slightly muffled. Sleep, wife. 
Leaning over the edge of the cot standing on your side of the bed, there were no distinct snoring sounds coming from the boy it belonged to, his little blanket missing as well. It merely was the reddish dragon egg sitting neatly in the corner, having yet to hatch. Your boy was nine moons old by now, and it became less and less likely it was going to hatch at all. 
You rose from the bed, quietly, and pulled a thin robe over your shoulders, tying a knot in the front. Sidling toward Aemond, you soon spotted the small head of your son resting on his shoulder with your husband’s lips pressed gently against the side of the boy’s face. A warmth spread through your body at the sight, your heart fluttering. 
“Emā naejot ēdrugon hae sȳrī,” you purred, cautious to not wake the sleeping babe in his arms. You have to sleep as well.
As you came up to him, you brushed your hand over Aemond’s back, resting at his waist, and craned your neck to meet his eye. His sapphire eye was gleaming in the soft light the moon casted upon you three, making him look as if he had been forged and created by the Seven. 
Your lips pressed to his shoulder, and only then did you notice that he was bare-chested, prompting you to raise your eyebrows. Aemond slightly turned and reciprocated the gesture, oblivious to your surprise, though his lips pressed to your temple with him taking a deep breath of your scent. 
He carefully shifted the hold on your son, supporting him with his right arm as he slid his other around your waist to pull you against him and meet your lips for a kiss that robbed you of your ability to breathe. 
“He was not able to find rest,” Aemond rasped, words fanning over your lips. “He sleeps most peacefully in our arms than in the cot, you know.”
You nodded, and allowed your fingers to ghost along the crown of his head, caressing the tuft of silver hair your son possessed. Your eyes crinkled at the corners, your heart swelling at the realization that you two had created the very being Aemond just cradled in his arms.
Turning your head toward the window overlooking King’s Landing, you were in awe that the rawness and vulnerability of the moment even made the filthiest of cities seem peaceful and quiet, yet the true sight to behold was and always would be the prince standing right next to you.
Despite the rift parting your House into two, Aemond had always been a dutiful husband, taking care of you and protecting you just like he had vowed to do on the day you wed in the traditions of the Faith. Duty. It had never been more than that to him. But with your pregnancy taking a woeful turn, and the much more miserable birth following, something in him had changed. 
His training with the sword could wait more often than not, if it meant for him to get the chance to bond with you, and, after the birth, your son. And knowing all too well that he prioritized full nights of sleep, moments like these made you even more aware of how much he had grown into his newfound responsibilities. 
For all that the people of court found the prince to be cold or even cruel at times, he was nothing if not incredibly gentle with you and your son. 
When you looked back at Aemond, you already found him staring at you with the striking lilac eye of his, an expression of deep affection written all over his features. The warm look in his eye made you feel weak in the knees, just like it always did. 
With a soft smile on his lips, his hand trailed from your waist to your stomach, gently rubbing over the small bump that slowly started to blossom. His touch was tender, loving even. 
“You deserve your rest more than ever with the child growing within you,” he noted, “return to bed and get some sleep, my love. I shall watch over him.”
You nodded as you watched Aemond’s head tilt forwards to look at the sleeping boy that was cradled in the crook of his arm. You were exhausted, but at the same time, a part of you wished to spend every moment you could with your little family.  
A cheeky smile grazed your lips. “But what if I want to stay?”
His brows raised slightly as he regarded you, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I believe that we,” he nodded towards your son, “would not mind your company, provided you are not too tired.”
“Perhaps just for a few moments longer,” you replied softly to which he nodded in return.
With Aemond’s arm around you, and his lips pressing against your temple, the fatigue you were feeling could wait for a little while, if it meant you got to indulge in those rare moments of serenity for just a bit longer. 
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ja3hwa · 28 days
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♡ 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : You had one job and three rules. And you broke every single one.
『Word count』 : 2.18k
-> Genre: Smut. Mafia Au.
Pairing: MobBoss!San x PrivateDriver!Reader 
[Warnings] : Swearing. Gun violence. Some angst. Mention of death. San's a bit bloody. Blood (obviously). Unprotected sex. Car sex. Squirting. Light-hearted banter. Hinting of sex work and abuse (doesn't go into detail). Speeding. Car chase. Fingering. Fucking while driving (don't do this). Pet names
Note: This is based on this drabble. Everyone liked it so much that i just had to make a full fic, hehe.
Networks : @newworldnet ♡
Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Ko-fi
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“Oh no, I want to hear it, darling. What else would you find enjoyable to ride?” He shot the last of his drink, his hand evidently palming his clothed hard-on.
“I think you already know the answer, sir.”
“Hmm.” was all he responded with.
-
That night you’d fuck yourself on your dildo with the idea of San palming himself while you drove. The way his pants were stuck in your brain, playing on repeat as he continued to pleasure himself while you drove him home. You couldn’t have dropped him off sooner, cause you swore he was going to cum in his pants if he kept going.
‘Until next time, bunny.’
His voice was so smooth. Deep. You know you were playing a dangerous game by becoming involved with a client much less a feared mob boss that would kill someone that looked at him the wrong way. But the way he looked at you through the mirror every time you drove him. He was always so happy to see you, chatting about anything to keep his mind off his work. You were an escape for him. Something that was a reminder he was supposed to be this angry man twenty-four-seven. No, he could, laugh, tease, flirt, with you and you’d either shut him down or egg him on. Both of which rial him up even more.
The idea of touching you, having you. Even if it was for one night, it was becoming increasingly more tempting. But alas, he knew you. You are professional, and you wouldn’t disobey your company’s rules.
Do not sleep with the clients.
But something deep in your soul was screaming at you that all of your morality was about to go out the window. You were sent to pick up a client on a south port right after they had finished some trade. Well, that was the plan, at least, but here you were sitting an hour later after the supposed pick-up. This is getting ridiculous. You thought, shifting in your seat, trying to keep your muscles awake. What is taking him so long?
You knew of the client. Some lowlife trying to make it big in the mafia world. How he managed to hire you was a mystery. Maybe a debt is being paid? Or some sweet talking. But then again, from what you heard, he had neither up his sleeve. You closed your eyes for a moment, just a moment, trying to rest the tired feeling you were experiencing behind your temple. Everything was quiet, peaceful almost… Well, that was until you heard a gunshot, then two more following it.
You sat up and looked around frantically, spotting a few men rushing out of the large barn that sat by the waterfront. They were chasing a man, a young feline looking—it’s San.
The side door opened to a bloody-looking man with a feverious smile. His adrenaline was pumping to the point that you could see the veins in his neck bulging. His gun was still tight in his grip, wiping his brow with the back of the same hand. “I need you to get us out of here, princess.”
“I..B-but. Wait. My client…” You were so confused, not even registering you started the car. The men that had been chasing San were hot on your tail, so you began to floor it through the back roads of the port.
“Uh, yeah, well. He’s dead. He didn’t like the deal I offered and the bitch thought he could beat it out of me. ME! The king of fucking Seoul. Fucking arrogant pig.” San rambled but you barely heard what he had to say about the client. No, all you could think about was getting the fuck out of dogged and away from any of the crooks San managed to piss off. But then again pissing people off seemed like San's specialty.
“Where do I even go from here those bastards are probably tracking my fucking car.” You’ve never spoken so out of line before in front of a client but here you were. San just raked his fingers through his dirty hair, licking his busted lip.
“Why would they be tracking us.” San started searching through the glove departments for any signs of a tracker, but you just huffed, clutching the wheel tighter before almost screaming at him.
“They would be tracking us ‘cause they are the ones that own this fucking car and I was supposed to drive their fucking boss to a fucking safe house you idiot.” You didn’t mean to blow up but the tension became so thick in the vehicle you felt like you had no choice. San sat still for a moment, never hearing someone call him out of his stupidity before other than his right hand, Wooyoung. The silence was making your skin crawl, making you suddenly aware you just yelled at a mob boss. A mob boss that was definitely packing some kind of weapon…The fucking king of Seoul as he put it. You suddenly felt a hand touch your thigh making your whole body jump and the car almost swerved off the road.
“Well go on. Get us out of here, darling.” His voice was smooth and collected. It made your head spin. “B-but the track—If we get far enough, the tracker won’t reach, and then we can dump the car and run." San chuckled, turning back to stare at the road. You, on the other hand, were struggling to keep focus on the tar in front of you. He hasn't moved his fucking hand…
You started to speed up, swerving through the small amounts of traffic. You kept eyeing the rear-view mirror checking your back, and you noticed several cars tailing you.
Bastards.
You took a sharp left, causing San to shift in his seat and his hand that was perched on your thigh to slide up higher. You visibly shivered, making San aware of where his hand went. He just smirked, "Such a good girl. Getting me out of here. Remind me, why you don't drive for me permanently again?"
"Cause you flirt too much and I'm…" you felt his finger brush against your inner thigh… "I-I'm in a contract with the company I work for."
"Hmmm, well, you know I'm pretty good at making contracts disappear." He dared to reach further, and you were delusional enough to open your legs a little for him.
"H-he'd kill me. I can't leave." There was so much more in your contract that San didn't know of, but he could think of a few things the scum bag made you do. You have a passion for driving and driving fast. And he used that to get you to do other shit for him. Bastard.
"You won't have to ever do anything for him ever again. Come home with me. I'll look after you. Let you ride any of my cars… and anything else you might want…" he leaned towards your tense frame, seeing your knuckles turn white from how hard you held the wheel. "I'd give you the moon if you asked, darling. Anyone for my best girl."
My best girl…. oh, now your head is definitely spinning. Your foot hit the gas harder, reaching a long stretch of dirt road. Sitting at 90, you jumped to 120. "S-san…"
He popped the button of your dress pants, slipping his fingers delectably down until they grazed your bare core.
125km/h
"You like to be called my best girl, huh? Just need some praise, princess?" His breath tickled as he licked a strip along your neck up to your ear, biting your ear lob. All the while, his hand dipped further, running his long finger along your slit. "Fuck your soaked baby. Wet for me baby?" He chuckled, deeply.
You bit your lip, trying so hard not to close your eyes. "San p-please." You didn't know why you said that, but it was all you could think of. He pushed the pad of his finger against your clit, rubbing in slow little circles.
130km/h
"God you know how much I've thought about this pussy. How much I've dreamt about fucking her, tasting her. I bet you taste like fucking honey darling." His finger slid into your aching hole, making you gasp.
135km/p
Your watery eyes looked through the rear-view mirror, seeing no one behind you anymore, just a thick dust cloud created in your wake. You felt his finger slip in and out of you, making you open your legs wider for him. He chuckled, kissing your neck more until.
You slammed on the brakes, drifting the car through the dirt until it spun around and stopped in a sharp huff. Everything happened so quickly, but it was like you and San were in sync. Undoing your belts, he pulled his chair's brake, pulling the seat backwards so he had more leg room and was angled so you could climb on top of him.
Your lips captured his in a hot and messy kiss while his hand worked his belt and pants, slipping them down just enough so his naked ass could rest on the leather and his cock slapped against his clothed abdomen. You pulled your pants off while still in your seat. Ditching your slip-on sneakers before climbing onto his lap.
He gripped your blouse, ripping it off so the button flew everywhere. Neither of you cared though. Not as his lips latched on the top of your breasts, tugging your bra down so your tits could spill over the top. "Fuck,"
He groans as he catches a glimpse of your body. You are perfect, better than he imagined. "This was not how I wanted to ravish you."
"Yes, it was, don't fucking lie." You cut him off with another kiss. In truth, you were right. He had many dreams of fucking you senselessly in one or all of his vehicles. Maybe even on his bike, too.
"It's the thought that counts." He laughed against your lips.
"Shut up." You pulled your panties aside, sinking your fingers inside yourself. San watch in awe as you stretched yourself out on top of his twitching cock. And as if you could get more perfect, you moaned his name while doing it.
"Fuck your gorgeous." He slammed his head back against the chair and groaned as he bucked his hips up to try and get some kind of friction. But what he didn't expect was to feel your hand wrap tightly around his aching shaft. "Jesus fuck.."
It was your turn to giggle now, shifting your weight you lined your soaking entrance to his red angry cock tip, letting him breach your walls with a pop. You slowly sank down on his inch by inch. His hands flew for your hips, helping you bottom him out. "Saaniie y-you're huge. Fuck."
"Don't say shit like that. I-Fuck.. I won't last." His eyes hazily gazed to where you were connected feeling you pull up, then slam back down onto his cock. You circled your hips, drawing loud moans from both of you. Your hands fly to his shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours. Chest to chest. San nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a large inhale through his nose. He could smell your sweet perfume mixing with the lude scent of sex.
"So perfect." He mumbled, bracing his feet to the floor before jackhammering into your soaked cunt. Your screams were muffled against his neck as his pace became ruthless and harsh. Your hips moved out of sync with his thrusts, perfectly letting you grind your clit against his pelvis, sending electricity up your spine.
"S-sann, I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum." You whimpered, biting down on his shoulder fearing to draw blood.
"Yes, cum baby. I want to feel you cum around my cock. Be a good girl." He groaned, holding you tighter, feeling his own high creeping closer. Your tummy tugged tight and snapped. Your hips stilling, taking San's abusive thrusts as you squirted all over his lap.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." San slammed deep inside you, splurting his seed inside you, painting your walls with his cream. He kisses your shoulder, legs slightly shaking as he empties his load. You just laid there, taking every drop. Your pussy clenched around him, hissing at the sensitivity. Your fingers were laced in his hair, and his making shapes on your sweat-still clothed back.
"I broke the rules…" You whispered. San felt a little guilty that he made you break the rules of your company. He tainted you, and he was sorry for it. You'd never get another job as a driver if people found out you slept with a client. "You made me go over 140. You're lucky there weren't cops out here."
Oh, you were complaining about sleeping with him.
"That's what you're worried about." San had to laugh, hugging your figure tighter as he chuckled against your neck.
"Yes, I could have crashed and fucked the car."
"Yeah, instead, you just fucked me." You sat up and slapped his chest for that comment.
Special Taglist : @isiloiale @imperfect0angel @sugarnspice630 @yeorisanaxox @maeleelee @uarmytess @mxnsxngie @shuporangporanglinossss @nopension @sanhwalvr @gypsythrift @hyukssunflower @dearinsaniiity
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axelsagewrites · 2 months
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Hey, can I please request Jacaerys x aunt!reader where he goes to her after the dance as she had been imprisoned in the dungeons and he offer her to let him have her or she'll be sentenced to death or sum. And reader is as pious and religious as Alicent and she is horrified by the idea of being sullied by ""bastard seed"" but she reveals to be c0ck-drunk by the end of it?
Jace Velaryon*Perfect Wife
Pairing: Jace x f!reader
Word count: 2809
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Warnings: dub con, imprisonment, held at knife point (not during smut), praise, degradation, nipple play, p in v sex, hickeys, spanking, bruising, forced marriage, smut 18+c
Masterlist here
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You weren’t much of a warrior. You had been raised the way a princess should have been. Well, that’s what your mother told you. However, when two days had passed since Aemond and Aegon had left to confront Rhanerya, and everyone refused to tell you what was happening you decided to get the hell out of there on your dragon.
Maybe you’d end up in Essos and sell a dragon egg for a home. Maybe even Dorne. You could try throw yourself on their mercy. After all, their ambassadors had always seemed to enjoy your company. However, all your plans soon crumbled when you accidentally flew into what you’d assumed to be an empty clearing.
You’d landed in a small field and had quickly tried to ‘borrow’ an apple from a local farm when you felt a strong grip on your arm and a sharp blade on your neck. So cold it had to be Valyrian steel. “And who do we have here?” you recognised Jace’s voice clearly. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you pretty girls shouldn’t go about dawdling?”
-
The stone floors bruised your knees each time you knelt to pray but you didn’t complain or even wince at the pain. You’d counted the days you’d been here by etching marks in the stone with the corner of your Seven-star necklace your mother had given you. 27 days so far. Each morning you prayed. Well, what you thought was morning. Then each afternoon then evening. Each time to a different member of the seven. Even the stranger since perhaps the god of death was the one you truly needed right now.
“My lady,” a sing song voice called out, “Lunch is ready,” Jace said as he approached your cell with his usual grin. He didn’t come every day but when he did it only seemed to add to your punishment. “I made sure to pick you the freshest apple,” he crouched down, holding it out to you.
You kept your eyes on the ground as you tried to finish your prayer, “C’mon now. They’re clearly not listening to you,” he mocked, sitting down the tray in front of the bars to your cell.
Still, you ignored him as you wrapped them up. Jace sighed and just as you finished your prayers he stood, taking the tray with him. “Where are you going?” you called, moving to stand on your feet and grabbing the bars, “That’s my food,”
“No this is my food,” he said, as if he was calling the sky blue, “And you never took it,”
“I was praying!”
“Not fast enough,” he teased. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to acknowledge the heir to Westeros,” he said as he turned to leave.
“My brothers not here,” you mumbled, turning around to go take your place on the wooden bench they called a bed.
The wine cup clattered against the wall, missing your head by only an inch. You span on your heels to confront him, but the only trace was your food dropped on the ground in a head and the apple slowly rolling towards your cell.
It stopped just out of arm’s length of the bars as if the gods really were mocking you. It took you laying on the ground, stretching out the tips of your fingernails to manage to roll it closer so you could grab it. You consoled yourself knowing he never came twice in one day.
Yet this time he did.
Jace arrived with a meal so nice looking it almost reminded you of what you used to eat. There was even a whole chicken leg on it. when he saw the apple core in the corner of your cell Jace couldn’t help but laugh. “Here,” he said, reaching it out for you to try manoeuvre through the bars when he suddenly pulled it back, “Aren’t you going to thank your prince?”
“Thank you,” you glared, reaching your hand out.
Jace just smirked, “Thank you what?”
“Thank you, dear nephew,” you offered with a fake smile.
“Say it. say that I am the true heir, a true prince, and I will be most obliged to give you this chicken leg. Straight from the queens table,” he said, showing it to you once more just to rub it in.
You could feel your stomach rumble, but you couldn’t say it. not after all this time. Not after all the battles. Not for a chicken leg. “My mother isn’t here,” you said through gritted teeth.
Jace reached through the bars, grabbing your neck before you could react. His grasp was tight but despite his fingers digging into your skin you weren’t afraid, “I can only be so patient,” he warned before letting you go. He turned to leave, taking the food with him, “besides, who said your mother is even alive?” he mocked before slamming the door shut behind him.
The stalemate continued for another day and a half and suddenly you were regretting not rationing the apple. At least the guards had kept your water jug topped up, but you didn’t want to risk that being taken too.
“I have a new deal,” Jace said, walking in empty handed.
“Where’s my food?” you said, not even standing from where you sat on your bed.
“That’s not very polite,” Jace tutted, leaning against the bars, “How would you like to get out of here?” you couldn’t help your eyes widening at the idea. Something Jace seemed to revel in. he unlocked your cell and despite wanting to run you sat still as he closed the door behind him. “Come here. Let me get a closer look at you,”
You wanted to slap him but instead you stood up and slowly crossed the floor while Jace’s eyes scanned your frame. “Still so beautiful,” he mumbled before he finally brought his eyes back to yours as your cheeks burned, “I have a new proposal for you,” he said, reaching to stroke your cheek. He was gentle but you still flinched at his touch.
He stepped closer, moving his hand down till he was toying with your necklace, his eyes not so subtly on your chest, “Marry me,” he said, and you instantly grimaced at his words, “Be my wife and I will let you free,”
“I wouldn’t be free,” you snapped, “I’d be the wife of a bastard, a nobody, a waste of space- “you began to spit your venom at him only to be cut off by his tight grasp around your neck.
“I wouldn’t be so hasty if I was you,” he warned, “What I’m offering is generous. You should hear what Daemon had planned for you,” he dropped his grip and you instantly stepped back, trying to recatch your breath.
Jace slowly began to circle you, eyeing you up from every angle as you silently thought over his offer when suddenly a thought popped into your head, “What’s in it for you? Last time I checked you already had a betrothed,”
“Alliances can change, we both know that” he drawled, his chest pressed against your back while his hand grazed your hip. Not mine, you thought, but you stayed silent instead. “Besides I need a wife. Someone to show off in court,” his hand trailed up from your hip to your waist making you shudder through the thin dress they’d gave you, “Someone to bear children. Someone to warm my bed,” he said, his lips pressed against your ear.
His hand went to move to your front, but you grabbed his wrist before he could touch anything, “I’d rather die,” you spat.
Jace grabbed your hips, spinning you around and pulling you flush against his chest, “That can be arranged,” he warned but he still wore his teasing smirk, “You think you’d survive here without me? A pretty young things like yourself in nothing but her night dress roaming around court, think of the scandals. Gods help you if you even make it out the castle. What do you think the small folk would do with a princess like you?”
“Perhaps they’d save me. If they believed in the true king,” you said, trying to hold firm but feeling yourself shake.
He chuckled under his breath, “There is only a queen. C’mon, I can’t be that bad surely. You saying you’ve never thought about it?” he said, his hand moving down to your ass, his lips moving to your ear, “Its not just the gods who know your dirty little secrets,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning your neck.
“I want my dragon back,” you said suddenly making Jace lift his head from where he’d been dragging his lips across your neck, “If I’m to be your wife,”
“As soon as your belly swells with my seed,” he said, “Anything else?”
It felt like a trap, but you tried anyway, “And separate rooms. I don’t want to see you more than I have to,”
He chuckled this time, “That can be arranged, anything else?” you eyed him carefully before shaking your head no. one child and then you could escape with your dragon. It would take a year, maybe two, and then you’d be free. “Good. I shall have them draw up a treaty. But in the meantime,” he said, grabbing your ass so suddenly you gasped, “I want some kind of reassurance you won’t back out,”
“And what’s that?” you asked through gritted teeth.
“I want to fuck you,” he said making the words dry up in your throat, “And if I didn’t know any better id say you wanted me too,”
“And if I say no?” you asked.
Jace dropped his grip, but a smirk fell on his lips as he began to walk away. “Then no deal,” he said, reaching for the door.
“Wait!” you called, reaching out to grab his arm. Jace turned his gaze back to you with a knowing smirk, “I suppose if you are to be my husband. The gods, they’d understand,” you said, trying to rationalise it all.
Jace moved closer to you till his chest was flush against yours, “I’m sure they’d understand after all,” he said, pushing the hair out of your face, “Who could blame you for wanting some pleasure in your life?” he said, his hand trailing down till he grabbed your tit, squeezing it softly, “Why would something that feels so good be so wrong?” he whispered in your ear, his hand traveling lower to your thighs, toying with the hem of his dress.
His lips moved to kiss down your jaw, across your neck till he was kissing your undiscovered sweet spot making you moan softly. His arms moved to slip around your waist, pulling you somehow closer to him as your hands rested on his shoulders. You gasped when he squeezed your ass and winced at the quick slap, he gave it before his hands moved to the hem of your dress.
The cold air rushed over your frame, making your nipples harden as Jace pulled the dress over your head in one swoop. The only thing to cover you was your necklace but right now that felt even worse. Jace’s eyes travelled your frame, soaking up every inch, “The gods have blessed me with you,” he murmured.
“You do not know the gods,” you glared but Jace just chuckled as his hands went to cup your tits, stroking his thumbs over your perked nipples making you whimper.
“Perhaps you don’t either,” he said as he led you by your hips to your bed. He sat on it, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you into his lap.
His lips moved to your collarbones, kissing and nipping at the soft skin. Your brain told you to push him away, but a strange feeling was overcoming your body as his hands moved to your hips. You could feel a hard bulge under his trousers as he began to move your hips, pushing your core onto his clothed cock. You moaned at the friction, his bulge rubbing perfectly against your clit sending shock waves up your body.
Soon you felt your hips begin to buck and move of their own accord. You felt his smirk against your skin as his hands moved to your tits. You gasped when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers making you moan. “Oh god,” you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out when he took one into his mouth, sucking on the perked bud.
You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, your moans growing louder as you took the gods in vain at the top of your lungs. You felt your peak hit you like a boulder before you slumped into Jace’s chest.
He moved to kiss your cheek with a chuckle. “Not even fucked you yet and look at you,” Jace said, slipping his hand down to rub against your sensitive core making your body lurch, “So wet for me,” he praised, his hand moving to unlace his trousers. “Can’t wait to see what my cock does to you,”
Before you could protest you felt his tip pressing into your entrance. You gasped, your hands moving to grab his shoulders, “Aw,” Jace pouted, “Does it hurt?” he mocked, pushing you down further, “Too fucking bad,” he practically growled as he used your hips to push you all the way down.
You almost screamed at the feeling, as if you were being split in half but Jace groaned, throwing his head back against the wall as you felt his cock twitch inside you, “Fuck you’re so tight,” he praised, giving you a moment to adjust. Your hips betrayed you again, moving without your mind thinking making him chuckle.
“Such a desperate little thing,” Jace mocked, grabbing your jaw as you tried to move away. His thumb ran over your bottom lip before using it to pry your mouth open, resting it on your tongue, “Good girl,” he praised, his free hand moving your hips.
“Fuck,” you gasped as you felt him hit all the right spots. You gave up trying to resit as your hips began to grind onto his cock.
Jace’s hands moved to your hair, grabbing it suddenly and pulling it back so he could have full access to your neck. You were sure by the way he kissed it there would be marks tomorrow but that didn’t matter now. Your hands went to his hair, tugging it softly making him growl against your skin.
His free hand went to your ass, grabbing it tightly before suddenly leaving stinging slaps against the soft flesh. You could feel your second peak fast approaching and when Jace moved to run quick circles against your sensitive bundle of nerves you felt your cunt squeeze around him as it came crashing down again.
“Fuck,” Jace mumbled, a stream of profanity tumbling from his lips as his hands moved to your hips so he could fuck you through your orgasm, “You feel so good,” he praised, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
You felt yourself coming down from your high and his movements began to slow, “Don’t stop Jace. Please gods don’t stop,” you began to beg, and you could feel his smirk.
“Begging suits you,” he teased, grabbing your jaw so he could make you face him, “You look so good right now. So drunk on my cock. Is that it?”
“Yes,” you whined, “I need you please,”
“Aw my poor baby,” he teased, “So desperate for her king,”
“Yes,” you weren’t even thinking any longer, and a spark ignited behind his eyes, “Need you. Want you my king,” you moaned.
Jace grabbed your hips tightly, standing suddenly before turning as you back slammed against the wall. You winced until you felt his hips begin to snap up against yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tight against you. This new angle had him hitting newer spots that had your legs wrapping tight around him.
“So good,” Jace mumbled against your skin as you felt a third orgasm approaching, “My perfect little wife,” his words sent you tumbling over the edge.
Jace couldn’t resist anymore as your cunt squeezed around his cock and with a couple more pumps, he began to spill his seed. His thrusts became slow as he rode out his own peak, fucking his seed deep inside you. You were both panting as he pulled out, his forehead resting against yours as your feet finally hit the ground again.
“I always knew you had a dark side in you,” Jace chuckled as he pulled away.
“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you in your sleep, husband,” you threatened but the last word made him smile. Maybe this was a good trade after all.
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ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.
it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.
his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.
batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.
he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.
the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.
“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”
he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.
he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.
his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.
he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.
his nights are full of tossing and turning.
he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.
he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.
couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.
he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.
he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.
couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.
his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.
you were everywhere,
he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.
how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.
he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.
he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.
what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.
the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.
when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.
how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.
you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.
it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.
but yet, you were now nowhere.
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Follow You Anywhere 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.
Characters: Captain Syverson
Note: I couldn't help myself.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
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"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."
You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.
You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."
You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.
"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."
You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.
"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.
You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.
"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."
You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.
You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.
“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 
You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.
You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…
“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.
You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.
A message?
You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.
‘Looked delicious too.’
“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”
‘Don't mean the toast.’
The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.
“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”
You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.
“How about some tunes?” 
You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.
‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?
“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”
You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.
You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.
You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.
“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”
You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.
🧸
You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.
The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.
The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.
You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.
You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.
As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.
You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.
🧸
You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.
You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.
You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.
You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.
A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.
'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.
You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.
'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.
You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.
🧸
You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.
The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.
"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.
As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.
You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.
You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.
"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."
All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.
You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.
As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.
"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.
You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.
"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."
You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?
"You like sweet stuff."
"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.
He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.
You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.
"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.
"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."
You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.
"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.
"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.
"I could drive you. I have a truck."
"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.
"Why not?"
"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"
"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."
"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"
"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."
"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."
"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 
“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."
"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."
"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.
"That's nice but--"
"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."
You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.
"BourbonBear?" You ask.
"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”
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mechaknight-98 · 25 days
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Full Circle (NSFW) Ft MiChaeng
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Authors note: inspired by the picture…you know the one. @smutoperator your turn
Two weeks before your relationship anniversary and Chaeyoung's birthday you ask her what she wants,
“Hmm I want a threesome with you and Somi,” she says plainly. You blink multiple times. You, Somi, and Chaeyoung have hung out loads of times. Somi was cool that you liked her but this was a massive and intense step for your relationship. He’ll it caused you your last one. You gulped trying to figure out how to respond.
“Huh,” you ask.
“You heard me. I want a threesome. I want my two favorite people to take care of me all day. I want to be pampered and fucked all day and all night,” Chaeyoung said her voice oozing the sexy confidence you fell for. She knew you were going to say yes, despite your reservations because she knew you. You were invested and to you, that transcended your past feelings about them. Knowing this you were momentarily put at ease about it.
“Okay, Tiger. I trust you.” You relent and Chaeyoung’s eyes grow wide with joy.
“You won’t regret this?” Chaeyoung assures you that she knew your sordid history with threesomes. As the day nears your dread increases. flashes of your old relationship begin to haunt you as each day nears. Chaeyoung notices of course and reassures you when she can but also gives you decent space to parse and constructively deal with your feelings, and music. Now you didn’t possess her level of talent but you had become quite practiced and skilled in a few instruments she helped you learn.
“What if she leaves you for Somi? What if Somi seduces you? What if a meteor strikes you down before the appointed time,” your mind raced as you tried to find a solution or an out to this circumstances. Yet whenever you broach the subject you just see Chaeyoung’s eyes go so wide with joy anytime she mentions the “experience”.
The week before is stressful as she left you sexually ravenous and frustrated. A far cry from the sexual satisfaction you mutually enjoyed. She had forbidden you from touching yourself or touching her but she would touch you and make a great show of masturbating in front of you with reckless lewd abandon. This torture lasted seven nights. On the day before her birthday while you were getting ready for work you asked “Hey Chae why all the edging,” Chaeyoung smiled
“I want you feral so that you destroy my pussy. I want you so feral you fuck Somi and my brains out. I want you feral that all you can think about is using us for your pleasure,” Chaeyoung said with a lustful tone. This led to the most diabolical edging sessions she’s ever done to you. Before work, she grabbed your cock and began to stroke you as she said all of the things she wanted done to Somi and her. You stand helpless in her grip, like putty in arms hoping she releases some of the tension, and just like that she stops. She kisses your cheek and says, “See you later Rocky please get home safely,” She did just enough to rile you up but nothing to satisfy you. You grind your teeth. You could and should demolish her right now for what she did but no. It was her birthday and as a good boyfriend obeyed, but damn could she see it in your eyes. Her eyes seemed to egg you on then her mouth followed,
“Oh has it gotten to you,” she says, “you better go or you’ll be late for work,” she said with a sadistic smile.
The night before you had to avoid Tiger. for fear of losing control as her touch was enough to drive you mad at this point. You stayed out on something you don't do trying to take your mind off things. You went to the bar where you met Chaeyoung. You order a straight whiskey hoping the alcohol will ease your nerves. it doesn't. you sit alone until a familiar voice talks to you
"Hey stranger," You turn to see a smiling Somi. You wave,
"What brings you out Mr Workholic?" Somi playfully teases
"Oh you know just wanted a drink ya know," you lie. Somi sees right through it and replies
"Chae told me she's been subjecting you to torture in preparation for her birthday bash of us three," Somi smiles. You nod
"I just need a break. for a couple of hours at least. She's got me on edge. I almost called in just so I could fuck that smirk off her face," You reveal
"Yeah, Chae told me that you had reached your limit, but if it's any consolation she has also told me that she has also reached her limit not being able to fuck her "favorite cock and balls" like you did something to her. I have never seen her so down bad for a guy before," Somi teases
"I'm glad. She's so smart and talented and I just want to watch her succeed," You elaborate.
"I know now come on. it's time we give the birthday girl everything she has been wanting," Somi says.
you groan get up and head to your place.
you open the door and Somi and you are run over by the overwhelming scent of Arousal and lust in the air. both of you hear moaning and echoing but no sign of Chaeyoung.
"Oh babe Somi texted me she's on her way. Please fuck me before she gets here. I haven't been able to cum all week. I need your cock," Chaeyoung moans. At that point everything Chaeyoung has been doing to you. A light in your brain turns green that hasn't been green since your first night with Chaeyoung. without a word and in a flash you strip and your body moves on its own with a hunger you didn't know you had.
"Wow," Somi says seeing you move like a demon to her. you find her fucking herself with a toy desperately trying to cum but can't.
you spread her already open legs and line up your erect cock with her moist cavern. the two of you lock eyes as images flash through both of your minds about what you would do to the other.
When you plunge in she's tighter than the first time you tasted her.
"Ahhh," Chaeyoung moans. Normally you'd ask if she was okay but you are too far gone at this point. you rear back and slam into her with a violent intensity. Chaeyoung moans turn into screams. Thank God the two of you soundproofed your little love nest because otherwise the two of you would have woken the neighbors.
You thrust in and out of Chae as she is reduced to a blubbering mess.
"Fuck Tiger keep moaning for me. I am going to murder this cat," You groan as you thrust into her. out of the corner of your eye, you see Somi sneak to your girlfriend's side, and before Chaeyoung can moan Somi shoves her sizable bust in Chaeyoung’s haeyoung's face
"Suck on my fat tits Chae. I know you want to," Her friends say lewdly. the scene only serves as fuel for your already considerable fire. You keep thrusting in and out of Chaeyoung and watch as she sucks on her friend's tits. You smile at the lewd scene only one thing is missing. Nearing your release you pull out of Chaeyoung who whimpers pathetically before you cum over the ladies’ bodies. Ropes upon ropes of white semen paint both of them as you watch with perverse pleasure. Chaeyoung and Somi moan in pleasure. They begin to make out and lick your cum off of their bodies. You’re still hard though and you start to stroke your cock.
“Where do you want it, Tiger,” you ask
“Fuck Somi stuff her with that fat cock,” Chaeyoung moans as she breaks from the kiss switching Somi and her position.
“Yes please fuck me with that fat cock,” Somi agrees. Chaeyoung moans as she breaks from the kiss switching Somi and her position.
“Yes please fuck me with that fat cock,” Somi agrees. You watch as Somi spreads her legs while Chaeyoung sucks on her tits. Without a thought, you plunge into Somi who moans. While you fuck Somi you yank Chaeyoung up to you and kiss her. You force your tongue down her throat as she gives in the pleasure.
“You like how I fuck your best friend,” you ask as you pump in and out of Somi. Chaeyoung breathlessly nods as you plunge into her friend
“You want my cock to mark her womb as mine like yours?” You ask and Chaeyoung nods aggressively. You turn to Somi and grab her right tit and begin to knead it.
“What will it be Somi? You also wanna be my slut?” Somi screams yes in response
“Fuck me with that fat cock. make cum,” she screams as her wet cavern sloshes around. Where Chaeyoung is Tight and wet Somi is wet and slippery. Her pussy almost pushes you out with each thrust as you go in and out of her. It’s pleasant though but not as much as Chaeyoung’s tight snatch. Speaking of Chaeyoung you move your hand to her left breast and massage hers with your left hand while massaging Somi’s with your right hand. Somi’s pussy seems to open up before she cums. Squirt comes out forcefully pushing you out of her cavern. Not wanting to stop you pick Chaeyoung up and put her into a full Nelson before plunging into her. Chaeyoung moans as she watches Somi keep cumming, she laughs, before saying,
“I think you broke her babe,” she says as she watches Somi unable to stop herself from cumming. You watch concerned for a moment until Chaeyoung pulls you into another kiss.
“Cum in me babe,” she says when you break it “fill me.” She whimpers. Her soft look sends you hurdling to your orgasm as you finally cum in your girlfriend. Chaeyoung also has her first orgasm of the night as the two of you continue to fuck each other through each other’s orgasms. After calming down the two of you fall next to Somi. Chaeyoung passes out in between the two of you. You’re still hard though and try to fight your urges. The three of you had been fucking for three hours. It was 3 am and you knew Chaeyoung needed a little rest she was such a tiny thing after all but your body demanded one more release. You trace Chaeyoung's back tattoo hoping to calm yourself down but your mind races with more ideas more ways to fuck her and have Somi watch. Unable to control yourself you lift Chaeyoung’s leg and plunge into her. Chaeyoung jolts awake in shock Somi smiles
“I told you Chae that you were playing a dangerous game,” she says as she’s watched Chaeyoung’s mind melt. You marvel at Chaeyoung she moans for you and you thrust faster. It was then that you realized you were fucking her ass. Somi watches before she starts touching herself as Chaeyoung's tight ass constricts around your cock. You tightly grip Chaeyoung’s wrists as you plunge into her tight hole.
“Oh fuck tiger I can’t stop,” you moan. Chaeyoung moans her brain overloaded from pleasure as she tries to talk you down but both of you are past the point of no return as you both cum again. Somi watches in glee, and for the first time that week you feel back to your normal self. You finally relax and go to sleep.
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gglitch1dd · 2 months
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Cheating DILF Izuku
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Note: This is just an angst story. IT IS NOT CONFIRMED PART OF MY STORY. It is not CANON. Izuku would NEVER cheat but if he did... it would be like this. I wrote this just to watch people cry.
Warning: Child loss, grief, Infidelity, Absent parenting,
You felt him shift behind you as his alarm rang. It was early in the morning and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to get up and out of bed yet. There was a whole ocean of space between you and your husband. A gap that had not been crossed or touched in over six months. It felt so cold to even try and move from your side of the bed because you knew that the person you were reaching out to was just as cold and if not, colder.
You heard your husband get out of bed and move towards the bathroom to get ready for work. There was no more slow morning sex, or waking up in his arms or to kisses. Anything and everything was work or the kids. That was all it seemed your marriage became in the span of six months.
You let out a heavy breath as you slowly sat up in bed. You looked to the right over to the family photo on your side table. You, your loving husband and your five boys. Something that seemed so far away despite the portraits having been taken just a year ago.
You got up out of bed and moved to go wake up the boys. You knocked on each of their doors, making sure they would be awake to get to school. You moved to your youngest’s bedroom. The four-year-old was still very much asleep which you were glad for. You moved over to where he was asleep in bed, his eyes closed. You gave a sad smile, but you were glad he was so blissfully unaware of everything else.
You moved to head downstairs, getting bento boxes ready and also breakfast. It was the same routine but something was always different which you couldn’t help but be grateful for.
Just as you fried the eggs, your oldest sons came downstairs.
“Morning mom!” Asahi greeted as he moved to quickly kiss your cheek and immediately went to grab plates to set the table. You smiled at your eleven year old son, already dressed in his gakuran.
“Morning ma!” Another kiss went to your cheek as Hero, your seven year old came and passed by, grabbing cutlery to put at the table, seemingly already in conversation with Asahi. You smiled over at him.
Finally walking over to you, in not as much as a rush than his younger brothers was Toshinori, your eldest. He gave your shoulders a squeeze and a kiss to your cheek. “Good morning, ma.” He easily picked up on tending to the other frying pan, grabbing his apron with one hand so that he could help you. He did it without being told and yet you always felt so grateful for his help. He looked at you with kind eyes and curly green hair. “Did you sleep well? How are you feeling?” He asked.
You smiled over at him, so grateful you had such an attentive eldest son. “I slept fine, thank you Toshi. I hope you slept well too.” You wished as you turned off the stove you were working at and turned to finish your husband’s bento box.
“I slept well.” He told you sweetly. “Did… did any email or mail come in yet?” he asked.
You turned to Toshinori with a smile. He had been eagerly awaiting a letter from UA. You were just grateful that with everything that happened the last six months, your son managed to still train and go to the physical exam to enter UA High School. Although you were pretty sure it was a guarantee that he would enter the school, considering he had your husband’s quirk due to him being born quirkless too, Toshinori wanted a fair and equal trial just like everyone else. He wanted to be deserving of it and in every way he was. 
You turned to him shoving him gently. “Hey…” he turned to you with slightly anxious eyes. You took a deep breath and he mimicked you. You took a second before you both breathed out. You smiled. “Everything is going to be fine. I told you, you’ll be the first one to read it the moment I get it.” You promised him. He nodded his head with a smile. He opened his mouth to speak but the heavy sound of footsteps interrupted him as finally your husband descended from downstairs.
“Morning dad!”
“Morning kiddos.” Your husband let out, his voice less chirpy than it was six months ago. Midoriya Izuku walked over to where you were in the kitchen, automatically grabbing a flask of hot made coffee that you had made for him. He was in his own world again. His eyes distant but his actions were trained. The autopilot you had all been on, kicking in.
You knew you wouldn’t receive a good morning from him.
You barely got him to notice you half the time now.
You cleared your throat as you closed his bento and packed it away. “Izuku, remember Asahi’s science project at school. The viewing is at two.” You reminded him as you grabbed a can of soda and placed it with the rest of his lunch that you packed.
“Y/N, you know I can’t make it.” You heard him talk as he grabbed an apple as makeshift breakfast, not bothering to have breakfast with any of you anymore.
You looked at him with a pained expression. “Izuku, you promised you would go.”
You heard a sigh come out of him as he grabbed his bag and finally looked at you, stopping for five seconds. Your large husband felt so far away from you despite not being more than three steps away from you. “Y/N, I’m the Number One hero of this country. I don’t have time to always go to every recital and function.” He reminded you.
You felt annoyance bubble up inside you as your eyebrows furrowed. Your grip on your apron tightened as you looked up at him. That was always his excuse nowadays. “Izuku, you have been so busy with work lately. It would mean the world to him if you showed up. He’s been getting into arguments at schoo-”
“Y/N, I have a meeting in less than an hour.” He dismissed as he started to turn to leave the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll try make it if I get time.” He waved it off as he headed towards the entrance hallway, leaving you and the boys alone once again.
You bit back the emotions of annoyance and disappointment as you let out a sigh and turned to do something else, ignoring the boys and their silence as they watched. That’s how mornings were like now. Either Izuku buzzing by too fast to even get more than a sentence out of him before he’s out the door, or he’s never there entirely.
It had been like this ever since your second youngest, Shoyo had passed away.
A villain had attacked his primary school as revenge against heroes including your husband. Your little boy had sacrificed himself along with Hanta and Mina’s youngest child, Sero Kimiko. It was a dark day in your group of friends to lose two six year olds, innocent and pure. It was a horrible incident, an even more horrible case. Your husband and other heroes were on the scene one minute too late.
It was a horrible time for all of you. You barely could call yourself a human after the funeral and even during the hearing of state vs the class A villain, Jigsaw. You don’t remember most of it, all you knew was that you didn’t even get to see your little boy’s body one final time before cremation, because there simply wasn’t anything to hold.
You couldn’t imagine the horrific sight your husband saw that day, but he only truly began to change once the court ruling had happened and Jigsaw was sentenced to the death penalty. Your husband had moved further and further away from you, almost as if being near you and the boys was torture.
You couldn’t understand it at all, but you always made excuses for him. Even when it was Toshinori’s fifteenth birthday and Izuku wasn’t there. You told your son everything under the moon to make him understand, and he did. Because he loved his father that much. But there was only so many excuses you could give for so long.
With all the kids at school and you having taken Koda to kindergarten, leaving you alone for a few hours, you decided to clean Izuku’s study. The grand room was filled with papers and books, his laptop monitors all on from the long night he spent in here after coming home from patrol. You didn’t even know how he kept on moving when it seemed like he barely slept in your own bed. You didn’t question the times he wouldn’t come home for days on end, always saying he spent his nights at the office.
You ignored the smell of perfume on his hero suits too.
You walked into the room, moving to clear his desk and the multiple mugs of empty coffee. You moved to clear all the clutter, moving classified documents into a pile where he could find them all. He worked hard, it was something you always admired about him. It was the reason why the crime rate had more than halved in the last six months.
You heard a message pop up on his monitor. He had long time connected his phone to his computer, he said it made it easier to access things sometimes. Izuku also had a habit of leaving things on when he wanted to get back to it but always getting so whirled up in his head that he never did get back to them sometimes.
You made the ugly mistake of looking up at the monitor, your eyes reading before you could stop yourself.
You didn’t move.
You didn’t breathe.
You watched as message after message popped up.
Suddenly it felt as if your entire world had fallen underneath your feet.
Izuku dragged a hand through his hair as he came in through the door. It was past eight and no doubt, dinner had already been eaten in the Midoriya household. He had gotten so caught up in work and other matters that time just washed by. But that’s just how time seemed to pass ever since…
His eyes automatically went to the photo in the entranceway that sat beside a candle that was always lit no matter the time of day. A photo of a little boy, not older than six, with the brightest green eyes and the biggest smile. Hair so big and curly it almost swallowed him up whole. Inko had told Izuku when Shoyo was born, that he looked the most like him out of every single one of the boys, with the same sparkle in his eyes and smile that reached the stars.
Looking at him now only made Izuku feel nothing but never-ending guilt.
Taking off his shoes, Izuku got into the house. It was that soft time when homework was either being done or the boys got to destress before their busy days tomorrow.
“Dad!” Izuku turned to see his eldest. Toshinori had his hands in his pockets as he walked over to his father. Every day it seemed like the boy was getting taller, although he still hadn’t hit that particular growth spurt. He’d probably get it in second year of high school, like Izuku had. Toshinori seemed a bit apprehensive, knowing how his father seemed much more rougher than he was before. But he couldn’t blame him. Something in all of them changed six months ago. “Evening.” He nodded his head.
It took Izuku a second before mustering up a smile. “Toshi, how was school?”
Toshinori gave a look of surprise which hurt Izuku. How long had it been since he asked his son that question? “G-good!” He let out with a smile, so excited that his father asked. “It was great! Yah, Kane and I got moved into the first team for rugby! Coach said I could really get better as long as…” A soft blush went to his face as he scratched the back of his head. “As long as I learn to stop accidentally activating One for All when I get too worked up.”
Izuku let out an amused scoff but put a hand to Toshinori’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I struggled with that too even now. Just practise what I’ve already taught you and find a way to box it whenever you’re playing.” He advised. Toshinori perked up, his eyes as bright as stars as he smiled, glad to receive something from his father today. When last had he checked up on Toshinori and his use of One for All? Izuku felt sick at the thought. Izuku looked up to the empty kitchen. “Where’s mom?”
“Oh! She told me to tell you to meet her in your room. She said she had to talk to you about something. I’m not sure what.” He shrugged. “Must have to do with Asahi’s fight.”
Izuku nearly had whiplash as he turned to look back at Toshinori. “Fight? What fight?”
“Asahi got into another fight at school during the showcase. Didn’t tell me what about though.” Toshinori shrugged, but underlying worry in his demeanour.
Another?
Was this a frequent thing? Since when?
Izuku opened his mouth to speak but Toshinori beat him to it. “He’s been in his room since after dinner.”
Izuku nodded. “Thanks Toshi.” He turned to head straight upstairs. Izuku moved immediately straight into his mind at all this news. Fights? Since when did his eleven year old get into fights? Why wasn’t he told? Izuku was confused as he opened the door to your shared bedroom. He needed a shower and preferably a long night’s rest, but first he had to get down to this issue on Asahi. Your husband stepped into your bedroom. “Y/N, what is this I’m hearing about Asahi-”
“Close the door.” The tone in your voice had the green haired Number One hero freezing. It was eerily calm. It was horrifying because the only times you ever spoke like that was when you were angry. His eyebrows twitched as he looked to you as you sat on the other side of the master bedroom. The fire place in your bedroom was lit, which confused him because he didn’t think it all that cold to light a fire. Your eyes remained forward, your back towards him as you stood in the otherwise dark room. “Close the door, Midoriya.”
“Midoriya?” Izuku was confused. You hadn’t called him that since before you started dating, since third year of UA actually. It was an odd thing to hear come out of your lips, especially since you were Midoriya too. Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stepped forward. “Y/N, what’s going-”
“Close the door.” This time you said it a bit more firmly, but you were careful not to shout considering your door was still open.
Izuku complied, closing the door behind him, because like everyone in your family, there were rules to your household. One rule was that only under emergency circumstances was your bedroom door to be opened without knocking or permission from the both of you. Another was that your bedroom was the one neutral place where you could both talk to one another openly and freely without worry of the kids and having to be mindful parents.
Or at least it used to be.
The room was silent and tensely so. You looked down at the fire the entire time, nothing but the sound of the burning of wood was in the room as you both stood at opposite sides of the room.
“Do you remember…” Your voice started, nearly startling your husband that felt as though he could break out into a sweat in any second. “When we started dating, you used to write me letters.” You spoke softly and yet Izuku could hear every word. He noticed then that there was burnt papers in the fire place and papers in your hand still. Pages of handwritten letters, of ink and passionate love sat in your hands. “Pages upon pages of images of your thoughts and emotions of me. Each one different than the other. Nothing was the same and yet they all carried the same undeniable feeling of you… Midoriya Izuku, the man I fell in love with.” You spoke with such delicacy, almost as if that feeling of receiving them was fresh inside you. “And yet,” Your grip on the papers grew hard. “Not even more than half a year after our fourth son’s death…” You tossed the papers into the fire, not even looking back at them as they crumbled and charred under the heat.
This was the first time Izuku saw you since coming back and the image of your face is something he would have scarred into him for the rest of his life. Tears flowed from your eyes, and yet the only look he could see on you was pure anger and disgust. You looked absolutely broken and Izuku knew in that moment that you knew.
“You cheated on me.” You whispered with such anger it almost felt like that was a slap in his face entirely. “Why?”
It was a simple question, and one that Izuku didn’t have the answer to. Izuku was shaking. He was as pale as snow and fear brimmed in his eyes for the first time in a long time and yet you didn’t care. He closed his eyes and breathed. “You know how hard it’s been for me these last few months. All the headlines and everyone saying that I wasn’t fast enough to save him. I… I’ve been swallowed up with guilt and grief.”
“You don’t think we all have?” You asked coldly, making him stiffen. You stepped forward with a scowl on your face. “I stay here and take care of our home, of our boys. Our boys who have the same face as their brother and I have to fight the urge to cry at every waking moment because I see him in their faces!” You shouted pointing at the door. “I’ve been grieving!” Your hand went to your chest, painfully so but you didn’t care how hard you squeezed. It didn’t compare to the agony in your heart that only reignited. “We’ve all been grieving! I’ve been begging you to talk to me! Telling you not to listen to the headlines and talk to me! To talk in therapy! You have no excuse!”
“I was weak!” He shouted back at you, angrier at himself than he could ever be at you. “Like always! Ochaco was there just as a friend and then it felt so easy just to talk to her and unburden with her and then…” He couldn’t say it. It felt too real if he said it. It was all just a dream to him. A fantasy he could indulge in for a few hours out of the agony. It meant nothing to him, not like how you mean the world to him.
You shrugged. “And then what? You tripped and fell into her cunt? What, Izuku!”
“I don’t know!” He shouted back at you. It was silent for another moment. “How did you find out?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess it doesn’t.” He closed his eyes as he swallowed down the heavy pill.
This was it.
This was the end.
He had ruined everything all because he felt too much of a failure to face you and would have rather run to someone else than to you. His loyal and faithful wife. His loving wife. The woman that had given him everything. He felt a tear slip out of his eye as he looked down at the ground. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. Not when you knew. Not when you looked at him with the very thing he wanted to avoid in the first place.
He wiped his face. “Where are the divorce papers?” He asked in a whisper.
There was a beat of silence before a scoff came out of you. You folded your arms as you stood before him. “Divorce papers?” You asked almost as if it was funny. “Oh God, no.” Immediately, Izuku looked up at you in shock. You shook your head almost as if the very thought was unthinkable. “No. I’m not going to order a divorce. Do you know why?”
Izuku knew better than to give you a real answer. He decided to stay silent as he shook his head. The sound of your shoes on the floor was deafening as you walked forward to stand right in front of him.
You pointed to the picture on your bedside table. “Because of them.” You stated honestly. “Because of the four boys that we still have. That is the reason why I’m not getting the best divorce lawyer in this damn country. That is why I am not packing my bags and taking my children far away from you so that they can hate your actions just as much as I do.” You emphasised. “I love those boys more than I care for my own sanity and soul. I love those boys so much, I am painstakingly aware of the fact that I can never divorce you because I would never be able to take care of them without you. I love them so much that I know that they love you as if you hung the stars, Izuku!” You shouted at him, tears flowing down your face. A hiccup broke your voice but it didn’t stop you. “They love you so much and yet I know it would kill them to know what you’ve done! I refuse to let our sons hate you the same way you hate your father.”
That cold hard truth came crashing down on him like ice water. It chilled him to the very bone, and stirred his stomach making him feel sick.
Your jaw shivered with emotion, but you kept your head held high. “That is why I will not divorce you. I do not wish to inflict whatever more emotional trauma they could have after the last six months. So this is what is going to happen.” You folded your arms as you looked up at him. “Oh Izuku stop crying.”
He jolted as he hadn’t realised that there were tears flowing down his face. He moved a hand to his face, feeling the wetness of tears against his skin. He looked back at you. “Thank-”
“I don’t want to hear it, because I don’t care.” You cut him off quickly shutting him up. “I don’t care if you have every girl in the whole of Japan wrapped around your finger, but those women will never set a single foot into this house or into our children’s lives, do you understand me? If word gets out about this, you damn believe I will drain you dry Izuku. I will make sure that there is nothing left of your legacy that you have cultivated.” You hissed with pure intent in every word you said.
Izuku nodded his head pathetically scared of you (rightfully so). “Y/N, I promise you, I’ll never do it again! I’ll go to therapy again! We can go together. I promise I’ll change and-”
“I don’t care because you will never touch me sexually again.” You told him flat out. “We will act, we will pose, we will sing if we damn have to, to make our boys and the rest of Japan believe that we are somewhat of a functioning team at least until they are all out of the house. But Izuku know this…” You stepped forward as you looked up at him.
This was the man you had fallen in love with. A man who held your heart in the palm of his hand so easily that it was probably foolish of you to have loved him as much as you did. You loved Midoriya Izuku. You loved his smile, his muttering, his large scarred hands that held a world full of problems but still held you tenderly, you loved his laugh, you loved his heart. You loved the man standing in front of you.
“I love you.” You let out brokenly, taking the both of you by surprise. You nodded your head with a smile, a smile so broken it looked wrong on your face. “I love you, and you are the father of my children and my partner, but you will never again be my husband.”
Izuku didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he didn’t breathe. He was stuck there like a statue but you still continued.
“Now…” You brushed down your front. “I have to go give Toshinori his acceptance letter to UA. I advise you clean yourself up first before you go anywhere near my son.” You moved to walk right past him, your shoes deafening as you walked out the room closing the door behind him.
Izuku was motionless still, even without you in the room.
This was a worser fate than a divorce. Being trapped with the love of his life and never feeling her love back in return. Being married but never being your husband ever again.
“Morning mom!”
“Morning mom!”
A kiss went to your cheek as you were finishing up breakfast. Toshinori smiled at you as he placed his hands on your shoulders. “Good morning, mom.”
You let out a chuckle, trying to fill in the void and hollow feeling inside you. You grabbed your eldest son, bringing him into a hug as he laughed. “There’s my hero!” he grabbed a hold of you, picking you up off your feet making you shout in surprise. You had forgotten that with One for All he had also inherited his father’s strength. “Toshinori!” You shouted out in surprise. “Put me down!”
He laughed and held you tight, but put you back on your feet. You couldn’t help but giggle as he moved to switch off the stove and grab plates out of the cabinet. The heavy footsteps of your husband were heard as he descended from upstairs. You didn’t bother to look up at him.
Izuku looked a bit less like the mess you left him in last night. You had told him that for the night he wasn’t allowed in your bedroom, and he would stay in the office he cared about more than you in the last six months. He wore sweatpants as he kept one hand in his pockets and came down.
Asahi looked up from where he was setting the table. “Morning dad!”
“Morning buddy.” Izuku forced a smile to his face as he walked over to the table. He pulled Asahi in for a hug making his eyes go wide in surprise. The other boys looked at their father confused but didn’t say anything. “How did you sleep?”
“…fine.” He answered, glancing at you. You shrugged, acting to be oblivious. He did the same thing with Hero as well, before coming over to do the same with Toshinori.
Toshinori looked up at his father in surprise. “Morning dad… is your shift later in the day?” He asked as he noticed his father’s rather casual attire. He normally would just sleep in or rest more and let the four of you have breakfast by yourselves.
Izuku hesitated but shook his head as he moved over to grab an extra plate, noticing that the number of plates Toshinori had gotten was just for the four of you excluding him. “No.” He answered rather blankly. Izuku took his plate as well as the other plates that Toshinori was holding and went to go put them on the table. Asahi noticed the extra plate and went to go and grab more cutlery.
Breakfast was finished and so you all moved to the table. You kept notice of the time, wondering if you should wake up Koda or not. You sat next to Izuku on his right side like before, as he sat at the head of the table. Toshinori sat beside you, not wanting to sit on the other side of his father today. Your three eldest boys sat quietly, not touching their plates either as they looked between you and their father. You looked to Izuku and for a moment your husband froze.
That was the look you always gave him whenever you all used to sit at the table together. You would sit together and you would let him lead. Izuku felt horrible knowing that you were perfect. You always used to make it so important that the boys learnt from him in being a good male figure, no matter what. And yet as you looked at him now, all he saw was emptiness in your eyes. Rightfully so.
He cleared his throat and smiled. He put his hands together. “Thank you for the food.” The boys quickly followed afterwards before you all started eating. You sat posed and composed as if last night wasn’t one of the worst nights of your life. Izuku looked up at the three boys. “Actually boys…” He started.
The three of them looked up, heads of green hair perking up as they looked to their large Prohero father who sat at the head of the table. You were quiet as you let him say whatever piece he wanted to say. Whether he wanted to tell the boys or not, you wouldn’t intervene.
“I owe an apology to all of you.” He started. Toshinori’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He glanced at you with an emotionless expression but then looked back at his father. “To you and…” He motioned to the three of them before moving to look at you. You put your hand down silently allowing whatever he was doing. He put his hand over yours, squeezing it and yet you didn’t squeeze back. “And to your mother. The last six months have been…” He paused. A heavy pause that everyone felt. “Difficult for all of us and I haven’t been around as much as I should have. I’m sorry about that. And so… I’ve decided that I am taking some time off.”
All the boys whipped their heads to look at you as if asking you if it was true. You shrugged. You didn’t know either where this decision had come from, but you were glad that it seemed like he was making true to whatever dribble he had tried to sprout out last night to you.
Toshinori hesitated but looked back at his father with an optimistic look on his face. “That’s… That’s great dad.” He smiled. He looked to his brothers.
Hero and Asahi seemed more excited than you had seen them in a while. Hero nodded his head. “Yah! And just in time for break too! Maybe we can go on a road trip!” He spoke out an idea.
Izuku laughed but nodded. “I was thinking more of a vacation but whatever you boys want.”
“Oh!” Asahi perked up. “What about Australia?”
Toshinori shook his head. “Nah.” He took a bite of his toast. “Mom hates the giant spiders.”
“How about Greece?!” Hero suggested. “Mom was watching Mamma Mia two weeks ago! That place looked so cool and blue!”
You watched the boys bicker about a family vacation which brought a smile to your face. You were glad to see they were some semblances of happy for the first time in a long time.
Your eyes flicked down to where Izuku had his hand over yours still. You gripped his hand immediately taking his attention. You smiled at him as you leaned forward closer to his ear. “Good job, honey.” You said, enough that if the boys looked it would have been innocent, but Izuku knew what that was. He didn’t need it spelt out to him.
You placed a kiss to his lips, brief and to the point, making the boys gag. “Ew!”
“Mom! Please not at the table!” Asahi let out in deep exasperation.
Izuku was still for a moment, tears burning at his eyes. Your kiss was fake. Your praise was fake. Everything was a show, a play for the boys to be happy. You were still disappointed in him. You would always be disappointed in him.
He let out a shaky breath and smiled. “Hey! Leave my wife alone.” He said jokingly.
No matter what, he’d carry for the rest of his life, the fact that he had disappointed you.
-Glitch1d
[Izuku Midoriya Masterlist]
[Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]
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astonmartinii · 8 months
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yourusername: warning !! do not own a nice country house and farm because you will get lumped with the annual post season grid dinner, SEB PLEASE COME BACK I CAN"T TAKE THIS RESPONSIBILITY @landonorris what are you going to do when they find out you can't cook?
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user1: learning that lando can't cook is the least surprising thing in the entire world
user2: i'm sorry post season grid dinner? brb just going to cry my eyes out why haven't we heard of this before
user3: for my mental health i need photographic evidence asap
landonorris: way to bait me out in front of the whole world, thanks babe
yourusername: i'm sorry but if this crashes and burns i need people to know that it was your fault (because it defo would be)
landonorris: where is the faith? you back me to win every race but won't back me to make some roast potatoes :(
yourusername: babe when i was sick you burnt the soup so bad we had to throw the pan out
landonorris: I TRIED I WAS STRESSED YOU WERE SICK
yourusername: awwww babe, but it was le crueset and literally cost more than my life
sebastianvettel: it's been an honour to host it but i know you and lando will do great, send me all the photos !
yourusername: thank you seb, please come visit the farm at some point xx
landonorris: see i knew seb would have faith in me thanks mate
user4: lando's gf being a farm girl makes so much sense but also no sense what so ever
yourusername: tis the south west babe it's either banksy or farmers and nothing in between
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landonorris
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liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername and 1,023,677 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: should be peeling potatoes right now she's too pretty
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user10: oh to be a kitty cat being cuddled by y/n
yourusername: you're such a smooth talker babe but those potatoes won't peel themselves
landonorris: my years of being teammates with carlos has come in clutch
yourusername: you still suck at flirting i just love you so i still swoon, any other person would probably laugh in your face
landonorris: gonna ignore the insult and focus on the fact that you love me
user11: i swear every time i see y/n she's with another animal i've never seen before
yourusername: my farm is a safe haven for any animal, if they find themselves there they'll leave with a full tummy and a good load of cuddles
maxverstappen1: if lando is on potato duty does this mean we won't get them? they're my favourite part of a roast y/n PLEASE STEP IN
landonorris: oh wow i see how it is
maxverstappen1: i'm dutch i'm so serious about my potatoes
landonorris: i also don't fuck around about roast potatoes HAVE FAITH
user12: can we start a petition for lando to stream this? like at least the cooking portion
yourusername: watching my nervous breakdown live would not be ethical
landonorris: it's true she threw a carrot at my head the first time she cooked for my family
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, estebanocon and 590,455 others
tagged: yourusername, landonorris
oscarpiastri: officially a farm boy for the week (also known as third wheeling for seven days)
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user15: omg oscar went early? my mclaren heart is so full
yourusername: so so happy to have you here osc!! though you're not any more trustworthy in the kitchen
oscarpiastri: i'd defend myself but we've all seen me fail to boil an egg
yourusername: you tried your best !! but you've mastered the english tea which is a massive asset
oscarpiastri: i think i'd lose my seat if i couldn't make a cup of tea
user16: obsessed with y/n dragging everyone for being menaces in the kitchen
user17: love how oscar was like: post lando? no. post ducks? yes.
landonorris: mate you asked to come early don't complain about third wheeling now
oscarpiastri: i know i asked to come early but if y'all could lay off the soft porn for two seconds would be appreciated
landonorris: don't pretend you don't enjoy it mate ;)
yourusername: lando don't be mean :(
landonorris: i'm sorry oscar, i'm sure you don't enjoy watching us be happy
oscarpiastri: thanks i guess?
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,034,560 others
charles_leclerc: sad to announce i've been banned from the kitchen:( even banned from making drinks as well
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user18: this is defo the banning i agree with, we all saw the vlog with the pesto pasta
user19: tbf i've come to the conclusion the one person y/n would let into the kitchen is seb
yourusername: you're not wrong
user20: i need a chick in my dungarees right now
yourusername: why are you complaining about a free pass to sit on the couch and have someone else cook for you?
charles_leclerc: well when you put it like that ....
landonorris: let me revoke all of my previous complaints
yourusername: you know i like to treat you baby
charles_leclerc: why thank you y/n but that's an inappropriate thing to say while in a relationship
yourusername: it was in reply to lando's comment charles 😭
landonorris: guy forgot he could read for a second
charles_leclerc: MY BAD
user21: i know charles didn't come to a farm in all white
yourusername: i regret to inform you he did (it's all designer as well)
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yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 702,340 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: sunday roasts are my love language, so happy to host the grid dinner with the love of my life
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user23: at first i thought she was being a bit too serious about this but that roast looks like it BANGS
user24: legit i need one asap
georgerussell63: carmen wants the recipe please and thank you
yourusername: bring her to the farm next time we're free and i'll teach her in person
carmenmundt: thank you darling
yourusername: anything for you
landonorris: ummm what about the guy you called the love of your life in the caption?
yourusername: i love you but i've tried to teach you to cook way too many times
user25: i'm sorry lando is so sexy
user26: forget lando, every pic i've seen of this house is the sexiest thing in the world
carlossainz55: thank you for hosting y/n and lando!! i had a great time see you on new years
yourusername: no worries chilli
maxverstappen1: the roast was the best thing i've ever eaten, i'll only dock points because i had to top and tail with daniel
yourusername: i didn't see you complain when i walked in on you guys cuddling
danielricciardo: you told me you loved it :(
maxverstappen1: i did !!! i enjoyed all of it, especially the roast though
landonorris: second to a roast @danielricciardo that's tough
landonorris
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,208,943 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: so honoured to host the grid dinner and take over from such an inspiration in seb!! but mostly thanks to y/n for hosting at her farm and putting together an amazing dinner and weekend - also thanks for not killing the grid, i defo would have
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user27: i would've given a kidney to be there for real
lewishamilton: thank you for having us and for the sick nut roast
yourusername: we love you and roscoe !! and vegans are always welcome on my farm
user28: ROSCOE WENT?
yukitsunoda0511: thank you y/n i no longer think that english food is an abomination
yourusername: wow thank you yuki, i knew it would be hard when your only exposure was ... milton keynes
landonorris: wow my girlfriend is a miracle worker, and you're welcome yuki san we loved having you
user29: watching lando go from rookie to hosting the grid dinner, i'm soft
oscarpiastri: i love it here i'm sorry you're not getting rid of me
yourusername: no worries osc, you can stay as long as you want
landonorris: no complaining about third wheeling though, you're basically our child now
user30: experienced racer and rookie teammate friendships are so special to ME
danielricciardo: glad i managed to get my seat back just for this roast tbf
landonorris: not cause you missed me?
danielricciardo: eh i guess so
yourusername: just let me know when you're in england and you can come over for another
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2K notes · View notes
myocsfanfictions · 26 days
Text
THE WRATH OF FIRE
MASTERLIST
Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.
《 Previous - Next 》
CHAPTER 8
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The rumors surrounding Rhaenyra’s children only got worse when her third child had been born.
Ysilla was now a girl of fifteen. She was very different from the skinny little child that had left Runestone so long ago. People would describe her as elegant, intelligent, and beautiful. She had grown to be graceful, as much as her dragon was. And as Dārysyr, her fierce was known by now. Her dragon had grown large and powerful; his muscles were well-formed, and his wings were strong. Ysilla went flying on Dragonback once a week. She would have liked to do it more, but she had her studies and her duties.
Just a couple of years before, Ysilla had the chance to speak with the Alchemists of King’s Landing, and she had been left very fascinated.
“Vysenia was said to be familiar with dark magic,” she said one day, sitting beneath the Hearth Tree as she observed Aemond practicing combat movements with a stick.
“You want to be Vysenia born again?” He asked, fighting against air.
“Do you think I’d made a fool of myself?” She asked with a little smile as she looked at the boy.
“No,” he answered, turning to her, “I think you are as willed as her. But with the grace of Rhaenys.”
Graceful. Yes. Ysilla had grown up to be very grateful. She knew how to bow, to speak, and to dance. The court was well impressed by her. And from Runestone, her aunt Jeyne was hoping for a good arranging for Ysilla. Not only because she had become very well respected by the people in King’s Landing but also because Queen Alicent seemed to have high expectations from Ysilla. She called her her ward.
“She probably wishes for you to be wed to one of her sons,” that rumor had reached her aunt Jeyne as well. And she seemed pleased by it in her letters. A Royce on the throne.
Ysilla, on the contrary, had no thirst for power. The thought of ambitions and schemes only reminded her of her father and what he had done to be always a step closer to the Iron Throne. But she was not her father.
The lack of personal ambition, though, did not make her blind to politics and schemes. It was because she knew how harmful they could be that she was always vigilant and observant of what happened in court. Fully aware that knowledge and duty were what was required to keep alliances and peace. She had grown up side by side with the Queen, raised by the same people that raised the princes. She knew that the health of the King was faltered, as did the respect some people had for the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms when her children started to grow up to become more similar to the Captain of the Guards than her own husband. Everybody knew, and yet the King did nothing. This had also happened ten years before when her father had killed her mother.
“Are you not coming to the pits?” Aegon asked that morning when they were breaking their fast.
“You heard that right,” she answered, smiling at him before taking a sip of her milk.
“You cannot ditch me like this,” he said, leaning towards her with playful eyes, “I’ve promised you today would have been fun.”
Aegon had grown up, but his search for fun and enjoyment had remained the same. “Helaena wished to dance today. You know how I love her and how I enjoy dancing.”
He cocked his head to a side, “More than riding Dārysyr?” Then his hands moved to touch a strain of her hair, “Did I say how I like your hair today?” Ysilla took his hand to push it away. Aegon had always had a fascination with her hair, and since he had started to grow and notice women, he had begun to voice his compliments on her hair and appearance more often than not.
“I love nothing more than Dārysyr,” she answered, looking at the boy. "And we already flew with him and Sunfyre last week.”
Not so long before, Aegon managed to bend Sunfyre, becoming his dragonrider. Sunfyre was known to be the most beautiful dragon alive, and he really was. He had golden scales and pink shades, and even his flames were golden.
“I wasn’t meant to go fly together,” he said, a mischief light in his eyes.
“What’s with the face?” She asked, making him laugh.
“What face?”
“The one that always brings you trouble,” she answered with a glare. He was planning something. She knew him too well to be mistaken. She didn’t have time to ask because the wooden door opened to let Aemond enter the chamber.
“Good morrow, Aemond,” she greeted him with a smile.
“Ysilla, brother,” he answered shortly. It was how Aemond was, very different from his older brother. He was composed and dutiful. Less impulsive than Aegon was. “Mother is looking for you, Ysilla.” He said, sitting down.
“That’s why you’re not coming. Because of Mother,” Aegon said, making Ysilla turn to him.
“I wasn’t supposed to,” she said, standing up. Her eyes went from one brother to the other. "I’ll see you both when you return from the pit,” then she looked at Aegon.
“Behave.” He blown her a kiss.
“Like always, my sweet.”
“Stop that,” Aemond said, focusing his attention on the plate in front of him. Ysilla ignored Aegon, making her way towards the door. She wondered why the Queen wanted to see her. Ysilla knew she would have been busy with Rhaenyra after the princess’s labor ended and the third of her children would be born. Rhaenyra had been screaming for hours, and Ysilla stopped to observe the corridor that led to her chambers on her way to the Queen. By the screams, she seemed to be suffering very much. That made her anxious. She knew that it was a woman’s duty to give children to her husband. She just hoped the gods had mercy for them and an easy way to bring life to the world.
“Princess,” Ser Cole was guarding the door, bowing his head as she walked closer.
“Good morrow, Ser,” she answered politely. “I hope your day has been good so far.”
The man smiled, “It is, Princess.” His smile would have made her blush just a few years before. But the more she grew up, the less embarrassing it became to share words with men, even handsome men such as Ser Criston.
When Ysilla entered the chamber, the Queen was standing next to the window, and a serving girl was fixing the back of her dress.
“My Queen,” she greeted, bowing. “Have you asked for me?”
“Good morrow, my dear,” Alicent Hightower smiled kindly at her, “Indeed. Helaena is a little... agitated today."
Helaena had stayed the same in those years. She was still the sweetest girl that Ysilla had ever met. Sweet and gentle. But her queer behavior sometimes agitated even herself. Ysilla had seen Helaena in those moments, and she knew that the princess didn't like to be alone when she was feeling like that.
"We'll find something else to do then," Ysilla answered. They could have taken a walk or talked about bugs. Helaena liked bugs. Ysilla would have found something to ease Helaena's mind.
The Queen smiled at her, putting a hand on her arm. "What a blessing you are." Ysilla returned the gesture, bowing her head in gratitude and respect.
At that moment, the door behind them opened to reveal Rhaenyra and Laenor. Ysilla widened her eyes to see her cousin.
"Rhaenyra," the Queen gasped, "You should be resting after your labors."
"I have no doubt that you would prefer that, Your Grace," Rhaenyra answered, trying to keep her trembling voice steady. The pain that she had experienced was well visible on her face, and it was not surprising.
Ysilla had heard Rhaenyra screaming only a few moments before. She knew what happened during labor, and the septa had explained that to her. How could her cousin possibly walk? Or even walking up the stairs?
"You must sit," the Queen said, turning to one of her serving girls, "Talya, fetch a cushion for the Princess.” The girl bowed and turned to attend Rhaenyra.
“There’s no need,” Rhaenyra said. By the Queen insisted.
Ysilla followed Alicent as they walked towards the couple. Rhaenyra had finally accepted sitting down with Laenor's help, but seeing her in pain and holding her newborn baby, Ysilla felt like moving so that she could help her cousin sit. As the girl touched her arm, the Princess turned to look at her. A small smile appeared on her lips, probably still trying to hide her pain. It was well-known how stubborn Rhaenyra was.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“There’s no need,” Ysilla answered, then exchanging a look with the Queen.
Alicent was observing the baby like she had done with Lucerys just a few years before. Ysilla knew what she was thinking: even this child had nothing of Ser Laenor in him.
As Ysilla went back to stand next to the Queen, King Viserys entered the chamber with a huge smile on his face. “What happy news this morning,” he exclaimed.
The years had not been gentle to the King. His body was weaker and more fragile. His skin had gotten paler and his hair thinner. The condition of his left hand had gotten worse. He first lost just three fingers, but it kept getting worse until the Maester decided that it was better to cut off the entire arm. Even so, Ysilla’s uncle tried to maintain a positive attitude, always smiling at everyone.
“Indeed, Your Grace,” said Ser Leanor, taking the child in his arms to present him to the King. Ysilla observed Rhaenyra’s husband’s face as he looked at the baby. He smiled happily and proudly. Could he really be so blind? He had never seemed such a man to Ysilla. It was true, though, that he was not very present as a father.
He is more present than mine, anyway. She thought as she observed the unbothered son of Corlys Velaryon pass the child to the King. But even in his expression, Ysilla could not see surprise or disappointment. She could not understand why both men acted so blindly about the behavior of the future Queen? Why did her actions have no repercussions? Everybody knew, everybody whispered. And yet the King did nothing.
He must truly love her, if he is protecting her like that. Ysilla thought, observing the happiness on Viserys’ face.
“A fine Prince,” he said, his eyes looking at every one of them. Ysilla smiled, lowering her eyes. “Sturdy. You will make a fearsome knight.”
Surely, Ysilla thought. If the rumors were true and his father was Ser Harwin Strong, he surely could have become a terrific fighter as an adult. Breakbone was the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms.
“Does the babe have a name yet?” The Queen asked with curiosity.
Rhaenyra took a breath, “We haven’t spoken-”
“Joffrey.” Ser Leanor interrupted his wife. “He’ll be called Joffrey.”
Ysilla looked between them, hoping that her face did not give away the kind of thought she had in mind. Had they spoken of it or not? Did Rhaenyra agree with such a name?
“An unusual name for a Velaryon.” The Queen was speaking the truth. Velaryon came from Valyria as much as the Targaryens. Their names came from Old Valyria to keep the traditions. But it wasn’t only their costume: in the Seven Kingdoms, all the Noble Houses had names and family names. Ysilla’s name was a Royce name. Her mother, Lady Rhea, had done it on purpose. Ysilla’s father could be a Targaryen, but she had Royce’s blood in her veins as well.
“I do believe he has his father’s nose,” Ysilla would have frowned at the King’s words, but she had to keep her composure, so she decided to look at Rhaenyra and smile at her. The Princess did the same, but there was no truth behind that gesture. They were both aware of what was happening.
The King chuckled, still focused on Joffrey, and soon after, Laenor did the same before clearing his throat.
“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest,” Ser Laenor said, ready to help his wife get on her feet.
“Of course,” the King answered. The Queen was soon at his side, taking Joffrey in her hands. Ysilla moved aside when she saw the King walking closer to his daughter, but she didn’t walk very far, curious about what they would have talked about.
“Well done, my girl,” Viserys said with tenderness. Such a tone forced Ysilla to lower her eyes, fully aware that her father would never have such sweetness for her. If she’ll ever see him again. She knew that he was an Essos with his lady wife and their two twin daughters. She wondered how he was fathering them. If he was cold and cruel like he had been to her so long ago. Ten years had passed, and yet she remembered the way he had looked at her as he said that he felt nothing for his firstborn daughter.
“I do hope the labor was easy,” the King said as Ysilla walked towards the Queen, who was giving the baby back to Ser Leanor.
“Do keep trying, Ser Laenor. Sooner or later, you may get one that looks like you.” She had said it so politely, but her intentions were quite clear—she was voicing the thoughts of the entire court. The man looked startled, and when he noticed Ysilla standing there, she didn’t say anything. She only smiled, with no true intention behind it.
Rhaenyra then walked towards her husband before they both left the chamber. Ysilla bowed gracefully as they disappeared behind the heavy wooden door.
“What a happy day,” the King exclaimed full of happiness.
The Queen lowered her eyes from next to him. “Indeed, my love,” she answered.
The whole situation was against everything that politics and duty required. Ysilla could understand why her uncle was protecting his daughter, but her King was making a fool of himself. And whispers could only get louder and louder, not only against Rhaenyra but against the King as well. He was not only Rhaenyra’s father; he was the Protector of the Realm, of the peace of the Realm. How would the realm answer once the King had left that world? What was ahead of them? That uncertainty was heavy in her heart. Politics could be ruthless, and it could reclaim anyone’s life.
“You wanted to dance, I’m sorry,” Helaena was saying as they walked in the corridors of the Red Keep.
“Nonsense, Helaena,” she answered honestly. The events of that morning had left little room for light emotions in her heart. “I don’t feel like dancing today.”
“Running from the back is important,” her cousin said. Ysilla turned to observe her. It didn’t matter how many years they had known each other; Helaena’s strange sentences left Ysilla confused all the time. She knew better than to ask. Helaena didn’t know how to explain the meaning of her words, and the more people asked her to, the more she got agitated. That was one of those days. One where Ysilla stood quiet, listening to all the strange things her cousin felt to say. She loved Helaena, but on those days, the hours went on slowly.
I wish I was at the Dragonpit, she thought. Ysilla wished nothing more than to be with Dārysyr, especially during days that felt so heavy in her heart.
They were back in Helaena’s chamber when the Queen arrived. Ysilla was set next to her cousin, who was very interested in counting the rings of a centipede. They have been there long. And Ysilla decided to take one of the many books that she had in her chamber to keep herself occupied until Helaena was satisfied with her counting. When the Queen entered, Ysilla was ready to stand up and bow, but the woman gestured for her to sit still and keep with her reading.
“This one has sixty rings and two pairs of legs on each, ” Helaena whispered, looking closer at the centipede, “It makes two-hundred-twenty-four.”
“Yes, it is,” the Queen said in a soft tone, even if her expression could not hide her worry. It was difficult to communicate with Helaena when she acted like that. They had to be patient.
“It has eyes,” the girl spoke, looking closely at the creature in her hand.
“Does he?” Ysilla asked, keeping reading her book.
Helaena muttered in agreement, “Though, I don’t believe it can see.” Ysilla looked at her with a confused frown.
“And why is that so, do you think?” Asked the Queen.
“It is beyond our understanding.”
Beyond mine, for sure, Ysilla thought at her cousin’s words. Those were too much of abstract concepts for her mind. She liked history better.
“I suppose you’re right,” the Queen answered. Some things just are.” As she finished speaking, though, the door opened to reveal Aemond. Ysilla put aside her book. Her eyes widened, seeing how dirty his face and clothes were.
“Aemond,” the woman gasped, walking to her son, “What have you done?”
“He did it again.” Ysilla stood up after Helaena’s words. He must have entered the Dragonpit. That place was dangerous for someone without a dragon, and Aemond was the only one of them without one. Dragons bend only to one person, and when they did, they will only listen to their rider. They could become very dangerous for anyone else. But Aemond had always been very fascinated by dragons. The pain in his eyes was always visible when they went to the Dragonpit.
Ysilla could understand him. She had been fascinated, too, before Dārysyr’s egg hatched. Being a Targaryen without a dragon hurt a lot.
“After how many times you’ve been warned,” the Queen reproved him, “Must I have you confined to your chambers?”
“They made me do it!” Aemond argued angrily. Who made him do it? Ysilla moved forward, feeling for her cousin. He truly seemed so upset. What had happened? But the Queen didn’t seem to share Ysilla’s same thoughts.
“As if you needed encouragement,” the woman said, worryingly observing her son to be sure he was not harmed. "Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.” When she spoke like that, the Queen truly reminded Ysilla of her mother's skepticism about dragons.
“They gave me a pig!” Aemond exclaimed. Ysilla’s eyes widened.
“A what?” The Queen asked in confusion.
“They said they found a dragon for me. But it was a pig!” Aemond answered, trembling with anger.
I’ve promised you today would have been fun. Aegon had said to her that morning. He was behind it. Ysilla could not believe it. He knew how Aemond suffered since he was the only one without a dragon. Even Rhaenyra’s sons had one each, but not Aemond, a son of a King. How could he be so stupid to do that to his own brother?
“You will have a dragon one day,” Alicent said trying to calm her son, “I know it.”
Aemond deserved a dragon. It was saddening to know that his egg hadn’t hatched. He had asked Ysilla many times how she did it as they grew up, but she truly wasn't sure how or why. Dārysyr was just born one day. It had been a very normal day. But Aemond’s didn’t, and it was not fair. Why did the Gods play such games?
Aemond lowered his gaze, “They all laughed.”
And why did the Gods make Aegon to be such an idiot?
_____________________________________________________________
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biancabi · 5 months
Text
Jason: *Walking around the living room with a book until tripping over something*
Tim: *Lying on the ground being the "something" Jason tripped over*
Jason: What the fuck, Replacement?
Tim: Sleep is overrated and I don't need it!!
Jason: Of course, that clarifies everything. What do you think if we make the consumption of peanuts illegal too?
Tim: Actually that would be pretty fantastic-
Jason: No, I was being sarcastic. Why the hell are you on the ground?
Tim: I'm trying to test a theory about how inertia acts on bodies-
Jason: *Raising an eyebrow* You fell and you're too tired to get up, right?
Tim: ...
Tim: ....yes.
-
Jason: *Yelling* Can someone tell me why the hell the kitchen is covered in waffle batter everywhere??
Steph: *With a stack of fifty waffles at her side* We're making waffes, obviously
Jason: And you had to dirty Alfie's entire kitchen for that??
Steph: It's just a little disaster, he won't even notice.
Jason: He doesn't notice the flour on the floor, eggs on the windows and dough on the ceiling??
Steph: You're making it sound more serious than it is.
Jason: Don't fuck, goldie.
-
Jason: *Entering dramatically* Alright little bitches, which one of you takes my copy of Pride and Prejudice??
Dick: I haven't seen your book, littlewing
Duke: Don't you have like a ten copies of that book?
Jason: First, I have fifteen copies of Pride and Prejudice. Second, they took my special anniversary copy. So which one of you has it??
Dick: Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?
Jason: No, I looked everywhere in this damn manor and it's NOT there.
Duke: Man, it's practically impossible for you to have covered the entire manor, I tried but I got tired after 5 hours. 5 HOURS!! AND I ONLY WENT THROUGH THE EAST WING.
Jason: THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WHO HAS MY BOOK?!
Dick: *Replying to Duke* I don't know, after getting lost in the hallways I never tried to navigate the manor again.
Jason: HEY! RESPOND BEFORE I START TAKING THE BULLETS OUT!
Duke: *Excited* What if there is some type of ghost or entity that is hidden in the hallways?
Dick: That wouldn't be so strange, I mean, this manor is very old.
Jason: IT DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE ANY DAMN GHOSTS. I WANT MY BOOK.
Duke: Just think about it, what if the ghost took your book??
Jason: *Taking out their guns* This is it, it's bullet time.
-
Bruce: Jason, could you explain to me why my living room is full of bullet holes?
Jason: Whoa, old man. If we think about it technically, everything is your fault.
Bruce: Pardon?
Jason: I think it's actually Alfred you should apologize to, but I guess I accept your apology.
Bruce: *Take a deep breath* Jason, how is this my fault?
Jason: *Moving his hands indifferently* I mean, if you hadn't adopted seven of us your living room wouldn't be covered in bullet holes. So technically it's your fault.
Bruce: ...
Jason: You know, you should have stopped at kid number two.
-
Jason: *Holding Damian by the neck like a kitten* Why the hell did you jump out of the batmobile? Were you even thinking???
Damian: *Squirming* I was trying to get out of the terrible experience of you driving alive. We almost crashed and died AGAIN.
Jason: Oi demon brat, Just so you know we almost collided because you jumped out the window suddenly.
Damian: This wouldn't have happened if I had been driving.
Jason: *Exasperated* Your feet can't even reach the brakes. How do you think-
*They both freeze when they hear police sirens, they look at each other and back at the crashed Batmobile.*
Jason: Did you know? Bruce doesn't need to know this.
Damian: This is the first time I agree with you Todd, we don't have to bother Father with little things.
Jason: *Escaping from the place* Yes yes yes, definitely
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fairysluna · 1 year
Text
a dragon's fury.
Once you found out that your beloved husband was wounded in battle, the dragon within you comes to light, and you're eager to help him during these war times.
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MASTERLIST
PAIRING – Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.
TAGS/TW – fluff, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, winterfell is at war with the wildlings, the greens won, dilf!cregan, cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of blood and wounds. If something is missing let me know!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE – this is the 4th part of my Cregan x Targ!Reader stories, but it can be read as a standalone too. People have ask for it and I'm here to provide.🤗🤍
WORD COUNT – 2.7k
FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!
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"Lord Stark has been wounded in battle."
Your eyes immediately left your son’s shape and reached the guard in front of you. Your softened haze soon turned into one filled with worry and fear, rage even. You carefully removed Lysara from your arms and stood up from the fur carpet beneath you. With your now shaky hands you fixed your thick dress before sighing deeply, trying not to raise any alarm to Rickon, who was already old enough to understand what those words could possibly mean.
“Where is he?” You asked. Your usual sweet and charming tone was now replaced by the hardness, stern words which demanded an immediate answer.
“He's in his bedchambers being attended by the Maesters,” the guard informed, to which you only managed to nod.
“How bad is it?” Those words came out as a whisper as you grabbed his arm and started to walk away from the children, so they would not hear.
“Lord Stark is conscious, though some of his wounds are quite deep according to what the Maesters had said,” He replied with the same low tone as you, noticing your intentions.
Your hand went to your belly, trying to find some comfort in it before you realized it was now empty. Your sweet boy had been born just a few weeks ago; Elion Stark. A beautiful babe that was now sleeping in the crib, right next to a white dragon egg, a gift from your brother King Aegon. You looked at the crib where your son was peacefully resting, and after you made sure he was alright you wiped the sweat of your hands on the fabric of your dress. Before you could even notice it, your legs were taking you out of the nursery room and towards your husband’s chambers.
Each step made your heart beat faster, the overwhelming sound of it making your ears buzz and your breathing to tremble. Your loyal guard was walking behind you, following your quick steps with his hand on the hilt of his sword, his guard up just in case you would find some intruders in your way. The war with the free folk had left Winterfell as a target for your foes, leaving you and your children exposed to the danger and risks that this war entails.
You have learnt how to live without fear after being raised with a dragon by your side, you also knew that your children, including Rickon, will be shielded by the same beast that brought you comfort and protection when you were their age… but Cregan was another story. The stubborn man would reject that much needed protection, leaving him exposed to any risk that may come his way; and as consequence, you would spend your days sitting in the nursery room with your babes, praying to Seven for the well being of your beloved husband.
But you decided it was enough once you crossed the wooden door that separated the halls with the chamber that you shared with Cregan, and saw how the maids and Maesters were running from one side of the room to another while your harmed husband was staining the white sheets of the bed with his crimson blood. Your eyes shifted with the purest of terror at the scene, and your nose started to itch as a sign of the upcoming tears that were threatening to escape your eyes. You stood there, right in the door frame, looking horrified at the scene in front of you and holding the handle of the door with such a strength that your knuckles turned white.
Your lower lip quivered as you slowly stepped inside the room, your hand pressing against your chest, which was moving rapidly and unsteadily. A maid was the one who first noticed your presence and bowed before you, staring at you with frightened eyes. You came to wonder which expression was the one on your face for her to have such a reaction.
The silence ruled over the room once they noticed your presence. They all bowed and stepped back, leaving you a path to follow towards your husband's bed. You managed to see his bare chest covered in bruises, a deep cut in his left arm and his gorgeous face swollen with violet stains and cuts that were still dripping blood. His left eye was now red, the gray color you so dearly loved was now replaced by the crimson tint that you so deeply hated to see on him.
Cregan saw you, and he took a deep breath that seemed to have hurt, for his expression furrowed with the signs of the immense pain he was suffering. Your eyes were clouded by tears, your heart aching at the sight. It was unbearable.
"My love," you whispered softly as you walked closely. "Who- who did-" you were unable to keep talking, for your voice broke in mid sentence as your soft hands fell gently on his chest. You felt his hand covering yours, he squeezed it three times and you lifted your face to see his. A little smile appeared on his face, as if he was trying to make you know that he was fine; but you were not blind, he was obviously not fine at all. "Who. did. this?" You spoke again, this time swallowing your sobs and using a more demanding tone.
"My princess," he weakly muttered, "no need to worry, I'm fine-"
"Cregan, I am not playing right now. Who did this?"
His eyes squinted with the unusual pronunciation of his name from your lips. You used to save it for two different occasions; for those which were filled with lust, or for those in which your inner dragon was about to spit fire. "My love-" he tried to excuse himself again.
"Who did this?" You insisted, starting to feel the worry leaving you and being replaced with anger. "Tell me the truth."
He looked around the room, observing the servants and Maester eavesdropping the conversation without trying to hide it at all. You pressed your lips with discontent as you noticed this, and you quickly stood up straight. "Out," you demanded of them, but no one moved. This only made you frown, increasing the anger in you. "All of you, out!" You repeated.
"My princess, our Lord requires our attention," a Maester said to you. Your jaw clenched at the defiance. "His state is-"
"I know what his state is, do you think I do not have eyes to see how my husband is harmed?!" Your voice rising as your cheeks turned red with fury. The middle aged man in front of you shrank in his position after he received your words. "Now get out, but stay around. I will call for all of you once we're finished. Now!"
You saw hesitation in his eyes, but the man simply nodded and with a small gesture he took all of the people out of the room. They quietly left the chambers as you shared stares with your husband. He looked up at you with those gray, puppy eyes, as if he had done something wrong and he was expecting you to scold him anytime now. He looked defenseless.
Only when the door was closed, you said, "Spit it out."
"It was a giant," he confessed, as quickly as you finished pronouncing your words.
"A giant?" You repeated, incredulously.
"I was fighting against the wildlings and this giant came to me out of nowhere…" He took a brief pause, shifting his position to a more comfortable one. You could see in his expression how it pained him to move, and you felt your heart break after seeing him in such a state." Last thing I knew I was flying across the field and landing on the rocks covered by the snow."
"You dumb, tall child," you muttered as you sat next to him. He immediately reached for your hand once again.
"For a moment I thought I was about to die," he confessed, "my mind played a memory of your laughter and I could've sworn I entered the heavens." You almost blush at his charming words, feeling the warmth of his love filling your heart with joy once again. "But then, I got really scared, my love, because I thought, for an instant, that I was leaving you behind… that our pups would've grown without his father, and that our Elion would've not known how to recognise my face."
And just like that, it was as if he was storytelling your worst nightmare; something that you were unable to think without shedding tears. The mere thought broke your soul into pieces. "But you are here," you whispered as you leaned to touch his face, "the gods had brought you back to my arms, because they know I cannot live without you." You grabbed a small bowl on the nightstand which was filled with water, and with a small cloth you started to wipe the blood out of his face. "You have no excuses now, I'm coming with you next time."
"Are you insane?" He quickly said. "Look what they did to me!"
"I would be riding my dragon, love… patrolling the skies so no other being can hurt you again," you spst with rage. "Look at you! They almost took you away from me, I will not allow this to happen again."
"My love-"
"I will not accept defiance from you, husband. I will burn them all, all those savages will die screaming for what they did to you," your voice broke mid sentence as tears streamed down your face. Cregan carefully stretched his arm to cupped your cheek, your immediate response was to lean towards his touch. "You forbade my participation in this war because I was carrying our child, but now I'm prepared enough to fight, and I will call my brothers, they will-"
"Do not," he stopped you, "there's no need."
You frowned, shaking your head. Your stern look was enough to make your husband know that you were disagreeing with him. No words needed, he knew you too well.
"You cannot," he muttered.
"Winterfell is my home now, the place where my children were born… the place when I married the love of my life. It is my duty as Lady Stark to protect it."
"I will not allow it," he shook his head. "I refuse to put your life at risk. Our children need their mother."
"As well as they need their father," you added. Cregan haze softened and his jaw was unclenched. He sighed, tired, hurted, but you did not bend to his words, you were firm in your decision. "Ten years ago we made a pact; you fulfilled your part of the deal by taking your tropes and your bannermen to secure my brother's claim. Aegon is king because of you, my family is alive because of what you and your men did," you reminded him. "It is time for us to return the favor. We got married because of this alliance, remember?"
"We got married because I fell in love with you the instant you arrived in your dragon," he confessed. You leaned back, a bit incredulous.
"You're a liar," you accused him.
"I swear I'm telling no lies, my beautiful princess," he smiled softly, still showing signs of his pain. The hand that was holding your face shifted its position to let his thumb wipe your tears. He scoffed after seeing your expression. "What? Did you really think I would let myself be seduced so easily?" You blushed, remembering the boldness in your attitude on the day of your first encounter. "I let myself go because you were something I just could not resist. You're my greatest weakness, my love, and for that exact same reason I cannot put you at risk."
"I can't let you come back out there alone, not when I have a dragon to protect you. Not when this happened."
"Please…"
"I love you, Cregan," you interrupted him, "and I cannot make it without you. I'm begging you, let me help you… allow me to call my brothers, they will be here within days."
"But-"
"No," you shook your head, "no buts. Let me protect our home, let me fight for it. Together we make a marvelous team, my love… we will win this just if we are together." You got closer to him, close enough to press your forehead against his. The blood of his wounds stained your skin but you did not seem to care, you needed to feel him close. "I don't care if I have to fly my dragon across the Wall, as long as I kill every single one of those who harmed you." You whispered your words, Cregan could taste the rage in them.
Your hands were caressing his wounded face as he moved his chin up in order to reach your lips in a tender and soft kiss. You felt the drops of blood coming out of the cut in his lip and being spreaded against yours. You could not care less.
"Promise me something," he whispered, your eyes remaining closed. "promise me that as soon as you feel something is wrong you will return here…"
You frowned, pulling away from him and opening your eyes. A confused look in them as you said, "and leaving you behind? No way."
"Y/n…" He sighed.
"No, I will not leave you there, Cregan," you shook your head. "As soon as I feel like something is wrong I will make you get up on my dragon and i will fly away with you."
"No, it's too risky."
"I do not care!" You grab his face, softly to not hurt him but strong enough to force him to look at you. "I will be by your side until death do us apart, get used to it. I will not abandon you, no fucking way. So either you accept this, or I will go to ride my dragon and kill them all, without you."
He knew you meant it. He knew your words were not lacking sincerity. He knew you too well. A small nod was all you needed to let go of the air contained in your lungs. He had accepted, making you feel some kind of relief. He was too tired to keep fighting against your ideals, and some part of him knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would not change your mind.
"Send ravens to your brothers, my love," he said. "I'll send them to my bannermen."
"Okay…" you whispered, leaning forward just to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I will."
You stroke his brown thick hair before straightening up and attempt to walk out of the room. He held your hand, however, making you stop before you could move away. You turned to look at him, and Cregan smiled.
"I'm so in love with you, my little princess," he murmured. "My little dragon."
You felt the warmth in your cheeks as you pressed your lips to repress a silly smile. You had been married for more than ten years, and you still feel like a maiden being courted every time he would say those things to you. Your heart jumping out of excitement, making you forget all the problems that existed on the other side of the door. You allowed yourself to soften your hard demeanor, just for a few seconds, and only for him to see.
"We're going to protect our home," you said, "we're going to bring peace to our children's future… I promise you that."
"I know," he nodded.
A small silence was present afterwards, but it was quickly interrupted by your words, "I love you."
Cregan smiled.
"And I love you too."
You kissed his hand before letting him go. Walking towards the door and allowing the Maesters and the maids to come inside to attend your husband once again.
You gave one last look inside the room, and once again your hand fell on your belly out of habit. As the door closed, your facade became hard and stern. Your jaw clenched as your haze became one full of anger and hate; you asked for forgiveness to the gods, for you promised to yourself you were going to make all those savages scream in agony for what they had done to your sweet husband.
You were going to make sure of that.
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BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU
GENERAL TAG LIST - @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen
CREGAN TAG LIST - @melsunshine @satansdarlin @aelora-a @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby
1K notes · View notes
mqonlighting · 30 days
Text
hear me out: civilian deadpool au except he just keeps getting arrested for the STRANGEST THINGS (illegal ownership of a chicken? someone just dumped an egg on his street? it hatches when he’s trying to cook it for breakfast? he RAISED IT?) and matt murdock is his exhausted lawyer who has to keep telling him to shut up in the interrogation room.
does he ever actually go to jail? no, maybe probation, maybe a fine. but arrested? half sure every cop in the city is just sick of hearing about his life. every juror thinks he’s just morbidly unlucky and a tiny bit moronic.
and he is.
detective: (sigh) so you have a chicken?
wade: oh, yeah, yolko ono! she’s my pride and joy, i had a mug and a mousepad printed- *pulling out wallet pictures*
matt: wade. no.
wade: i could bring her over if you want-
matt: WADE.
one time matt has to spring wade for grand theft auto of the nice old lady he lives next doors to. the automobile he supposedly stole? a select elevated motorized wheelchair.
wade: she LENT me the chair.
detective: and how’d she do that?
wade: i broke into her backyard because i heard a thump and i thought she fell over.
matt: jesus—
wade: so she didn’t fall over. apparently it was a twig that fell on an ice chest. but she was there, and she was yelling ‘jazzy! jazzy!’ and i was wondering why she was telling me to grab her jazzy, but i wasn’t about to turn down a free jazzy. so i walk over to it, i turn it on, i hop on, i say thank you to the kind old lady, and i wheel it out of there.
matt: goddamn it, wade—
detective: you stole a permobil.
wade: pardon?
detective: the wheelchair was a permobil.
wade: she said it was a jazzy!
detective: …
detective: jazzy is her HUSBAND.
wade: …
detective: …
matt: i give up.
and the nail in everyone’s coffin? when the precinct brings in wade’s fucking kidnap victim.
peter: kidnap? me?
detective: were you or were you not kidnapped by wade wilson and driven to the middle of nowhere?
peter: listen, man, farthest wade ever drove me was to a gamestop in manhattan from queens. i don’t drive. and then i ask if we can hit a seven eleven, since i really wanted a bag of chips. but then i fall asleep in the passenger seat on the way there. and when i wake up, i’m home - he didn’t buy me the bag of chips, though.
detective: … and when state troopers spotted his car in philadelphia? with someone passed out inside?
peter: we were in philly? and he didn’t wake me up?
detective: do you seriously mean to tell me you were completely passed out for a two hour and ten minute drive?
peter: i’m a college student with rent due in a month and a new paper due every time i breathe. and wade is an idiot who doesn’t know left from right, boots up waze, says his goodbyes to the universe, and starts driving. i think there’s your case.
detective: …
detective: damn it.
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bad268 · 5 months
Note
hope you’re having a great dayy :)) wondering if you could do one for paul aron in a situation like sleepy back hugs when the other person is busy whipping up breakfast in the kitchen, catching them by surprise smth like that? just fluff cause I rarely see stuff for paul 😢 tysm!!
Morning Surprises (Paul Aron X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3
Requested: Clearly (thank you for being patient and tbh i was 🤏 this close to changing it to Ralf. idk why but I'm on my Ralf arc rn, I'm gonna start writing for Ralf so send it in <3)
Warnings: shirtless Paul (need I say more?)
Pronouns: You/your
W.C. 1101
Summary: Sleepy hugs in the morning. What's not to like?
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(@/Paul's insta from February 23, 2023)
It was too early to function, in your opinion. Half seven in the morning may seem late to people like your race car driver boyfriend, Paul, but to you, it was too damn early to function. Rolling over in bed to hide in Paul’s side, you notice he’s not there. In fact, he had not been there for a while since his side was completely cold.
You groaned as you got out of the warm blankets and found one of Paul’s many sweatshirts lying around before throwing it on. You walk out of your room and are met with a familiar smell, but you can’t tell exactly what it is in your drowsy state.
You walk into the kitchen and see Paul standing over the stove. He was wearing grey sweatpants and no shirt as he was making what looked like a burnt egg. You held your breath as you crept up behind him before snaking your arms around his waist quickly, causing him to quickly look back at you leaning against his back.
“Are you trying to kill me?” You mumbled as you laid your head on his shoulder, already planning to fall back asleep. “That looks burnt. I don’t think Gigi would approve.”
“I tried, okay?” He chuckled as he dumped the burnt eggs into the trash and began a new omelet. Once it started cooking, he took one hand off the skillet (skrittle) to rest it against your arm. “Are you falling asleep again? Or have you died?”
“I mean my heart is still beating. Only for you of course,” You joked halfheartedly, leaning back on his shoulder to look up at him. “I was planning on going back to sleep. You’re just too comfy, but I don’t want to leave you alone and risk burning the apartment down.”
“You’re so cheezy, I love you,” He teased, leaning over to press a small kiss to your forehead. He turned his attention back to the omelet just in time to flip it are the right time, and it landed back in the pan perfectly. 
“You’re so domestic. I love you,” You joked back, pulling away to make you both cups of coffee/tea and set them at the table. “So what’s the plan for today?”
“As far as I know, we have nothing planned,” he replied, dishing up the omelet he made to share with you as he also grabbed some fruits he had cut up earlier before sitting next to you at the table. “We can do whatever you want.”
“That’s a slippery slope, Aron. Don’t give me that much power.”
~~
That night, Paul was pulled into a last minute mandatory call with Toto Wolff and Mercedes about who knows what at this point. You took it upon yourself to make dinner, one of Paul’s favorites. He was pacing around in the living room as you busied yourself in the kitchen.
You were just pulling it out of the oven when he ended the call, and you just set it down when he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up. He spun you around in a few circles, causing you both to laugh before he placed you back on your feet as you turned in his arms.
“I assume it was a good call?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck as you both made eye contact. His only response was to pull you close and kiss you hard, leaving no room between you. Despite not wanting to pull away, he pulled back with a huge smile on his lips. “Wow, that good, huh?”
“Guess who has a seat in F2 next season!” He exclaimed, tightening his hold on your waist as he bounced back and forth on his heels, unable to stand still.
“Hmm, let me guess. Dino?” You teased, causing his face to fall in mock offense as he froze entirely. You laughed at his expression before going back on your word, “No. Definitely not. I’m pretty sure it has to be Zak!”
He gaped at your exclamation as he rolled his eyes, “No. You’ve got one last guess.”
“Oh, one last guess? I better guess…” you hesitated in mock joking again to get a raise out of him, “Ralf?”
“Oh, you’re just fucking with me!” He shouted, pulling you in for a bone crushing hug again, swinging you around once again. “It’s me! I’m getting a seat!”
“I couldn’t tell!” You laughed as you tightened your hold on his shoulders. He set you down with a sharp glare as you smiled back at him. “I’m kidding. I figured as much. That’s why I made your favorite food.”
~~
It was too early to function, in your opinion, but you would not dare to oversleep on a day like today. Today was Paul’s first day in Formula 2, and you wanted to surprise him with breakfast in bed.
You carefully crawled out of bed, struggling to release Paul’s arms from your torso, and snuck out of the room. You made it to the kitchen where Ralf was making oatmeal or something already. 
“How did you get in here?” You whisper shouted as you walked toward Ralf. “I was going to make him breakfast in bed. You ruined my surprise, Ralf!”
“I have a key, did you forget?” Ralf chuckled as he set two bowls in front of you. “You can take it to him. I’ll hide out here and make the protein shakes.” 
“Let me check on him first. I’ll bring him out here,” You responded, turning around and heading back into your shared room to find Paul not in the bed. You looked around and saw the light in the bathroom on as well as the sound of the shower turning off. You gave him a couple of seconds before walking in, seeing him with a towel around his waist as he ran his hand threw his blond locks. You walked up behind him as he finished pulling on his boxers and jeans, wrapping your arms around him as he did so. “You’ll never guess who broke into the apartment.”
“Gigi or Ralf? My money’s on Ralf,” he laughed, leaning back into your embrace.
“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” You replied in mock enthusiasm, jumping up to place a kiss on his cheek, immediately feeling the roughness. You pulled back quickly and made a face at Paut through the mirror, “Dang, you need to shave. I’m going to eat the food Ralf made!”
With that, you left him to finish up in the bathroom as you got started with your day.
~~~~~
© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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neoplatinum · 1 month
Text
north and south poles | minatozaki sana
summary: sana wonders, are we not the two sides of the magnet?
pairing: childhood-friend!sana x fem!reader
themes: extremely angsty, best friends to ?? to ??, internalized homophobia, gender dysphoria, sana's not too great of a friend, reader is a pushover until she isn't, implied sex, original male character, [----] x reader
wc: 3.3k
(side a: we can't be friends - ariana grande)
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when sana's seven, her mother explains the cardinal rules in life. that boys and girls are polar opposites, like two sides of the coin, or like left and right. boys and girls are like the north and south poles of a magnet. and for a long time this holds true.
boys like to play rough, kick dirt over each other, chase after poor cats in hopes of catching them, or smack each other in the head. it's all a bit too gruesome for sana. she never did like watching them play, it felt like they were fighting. boys are like boxing matches, competing for a top winner. but girls are different.
girls are gentle, they play with dolls together, creating groups to play house or sliding down slides, and everyone cheers each other on. girls also like sharing cool things they found: cute rocks, rings, and toys. girls are like gentle waves crashing against the beach.
sana makes this distinction very early on, boys are boys and girls are girls. there's no in between for a seven year old sana. and life gets explained to her pretty easily by her mom. be a pretty girl, and you'll marry a good man who'll protect you and your family.
but her mother also told sana that you were a rowdy kid. a girl that played with the boys; you liked kicking dirt at the boys, chasing cats to catch them, or smacking each other in the head. but you were a girl, you also liked playing with dolls, and sliding down slides. you especially liked cute rocks, so you were someone she needed clarification with how to categorize as a kid.
so she asked her mom about you.
"oh her, she has no manners. her parents probably don't have enough time to teach her all that. they're both always so busy at work." her mother's chopping onions as she speaks, not lifting an eye at sana. and little sana rocks herself back and forth in the kitchen, a little confused by her own mom.
she's met your parents, they were nice people. offering royal milk tea to her, even if she wasn't allowed to have it. they always gave sana first pick for dishes they made, always. and like them, you often gave her parts of your lunch whenever sana was given too little.
and when sana enters middle school, this cardinal rule starts to shake a bit. boys are boys and girls are girls, but you are a girl, with boy-ish tendencies.
you liked playing rough with fuji, throwing dirt at each other even if it stained each other's school uniform. you liked shoving bigger boys when they were mean to girls, even if you had a black eye and sana had to rub a hard boiled egg over it.
but you were also as gentle as a girl, you held sana's hand gently whenever she wanted to walk along the rock wall, balancing on the ledge. you also helped blow and wash off sana's cuts whenever she scraped her knee in dance. just like how her mother does it.
you were the in between, and in between's don't exist in her mother's cardinal rule. when her mother and father sit at the dinner table and sana's mother asks her which boy in class she thinks is cute. sana doesn't think of any boy, but she thinks of you. you with your rough exterior with the older boys, but gentle and soft to sana, always.
"fuji?" her mother asks her. and sana thinks about fuji, a dependable friend in her life. a boy that is also gentler, although sometimes she thinks he's too loud during basketball. he shoves harder than you do, when you three play tag together. his hands are more rough, he towers over sana and really she sees him like an older brother.
sana thinks fuji is exactly the guy that her mother would like for her to marry.
"yeah, i think so." but sana really doesn't think so, her mind drifts off to your long hair and your soft shoulders.
--
when sana's twelve and excited to go home with you after the sga meeting, fuji confesses to her at the back of the school. he presents to her a letter. and through it all, the only thing she could gather was that sana was the prettiest girl in their class, and she has the prettiest smile.
all these compliments feel nice, but it doesn't stir her like you do. when you tell her that her hair is pretty today or that the bow she chose to match her shoes makes her look look fashionable. she stands by the wall, hands behind her back and staring at her shoes. all she can afford to do is nod at the words.
she knows this much, fuji is nice enough. he doesn't kick her chair like some other boys in the class; he always lets her walk inside the sidewalk when there are cars. so when he asks for a first date, she agrees, not letting her eyes look up at him. he walks away relieved, but sana can't feel anything other than a weight in her stomach.
another cardinal rule her mother told her is that lying is wrong.
so she asks for your opinion, and as she stands by your desk, watching you peacefully take a nap. she thinks about just ripping up the letter in her hand. she readies herself for the best performance of her life. to ask you a question that's self-indulgent. if you'll be her first kiss. and just like that she broke another cardinal rule, lying to you, but mostly to herself.
she thinks your lips would be soft, smelling like that cherry lipstick you like so much. and when you do kiss, she feels like she's floating. your hands are soft, when they cradle her jaw. moisturized with that cherry hand cream she gifted you. your hands are smaller too, they fit her head nicely. and most of all you're gentle. you pull apart, and sana nearly falls forward, body leaning into the kiss.
you stare at her in expectation, and panic surges through her body. you aren't fuji, you are the girl that's always played rougher than other girls. a girl that'll always give her 100% during class sprints, while all the other girls lightly jog. and the first thing she can think of is that she wishes you were a boy.
so she say's the exact words that tear your heart apart.
“wow yeah, that was good.” sana fiddles with her school skirt, “i wish you were a boy, you’d make a girl very happy kissing her like that.”
sana says that, but she watches as your eyes fall, hand dejected, and she can't help but feel like everything she knows about love is wrong. you don't say anything, so she leaves, closing the sga door behind her.
eyes welling up in tears as she thinks about how wrong this all is. if only you were a boy. she sinks onto the floor and cries into herself. when sana goes on the date, and fuji kisses her at her doorstep, she thinks of you. how he has to bend down to kiss her, and it all feels so wrong. later that night she starts a pros/cons list between you and fuji.
the only thing she has written for fuji is that "mother would like him." she tears the sheet of paper and tosses it into her waste basket.
--
when sana's eighteen and talking to her friends about boyfriends. all they have to say is that sex is amazing. they all talk about their first time and when they ask sana of what she thinks, she confesses that she's never done it.
"doesn't fuji ask you to?" one friend asks.
"no, he doesn't." the girl looks at sana weird but then shakes her head quickly.
"some guys are like that, they might not want to do it yet." she comments and then the conversation shifts on to talk about the latest school gossip.
sana's quiet for the rest of the week. she thinks about it, sex with fuji, and all she can do is groan. it's the natural progression of a relationship, but she feels like it's a weight in her stomach. that same weight she felt when he confessed to her.
so she does what she naturally did next when she was twelve; she finds you. she hasn't visited your house in years, it's still the same, even though there's a new door that she doesn't recognize anymore. and when she rings it, she finally sees you up close after so long.
she thinks about what she came here for in the first place. oh right, sex with fuji. so she comes up with the best excuse she can, that fuji wants to have sex. she knows its absurd, she's lying through her teeth, none of the reasons makes sense.
but the way you look right now, she can't think of anyone else she wants to have sex with. it stirs low in her stomach. her wanting you, so she lets a bit of truth in her lie.
"i need you to be my first, i want you to be. it can't be anyone else." sana is firm, but you look conflicted. eyes flitting all over the room. debating your morals.
she grabs your hands. eyes with want as she stares at you, and then you say yes. and suddenly the weight is lifted. sana feels like she's floating again.
when you pull her into your room, she feels like she's invincible. this room has always been so safe, and the way you stare into her with want, she thinks she wants to stay here forever in your arms.
the way you ask for permission, the way you constantly ask her if this is what she wants. asking if she's feeling good, gentle hands smelling like cherries that slip off her clothes. she thinks she'll stay naked like this forever if you asked her to.
her mind fills with you, shouting your name into the night where only you two exist in this world. she thinks this is right, this is what love is all about. this little bubble lasts only a night.
weeks later, she proposes sex to fuji, and he nods adamantly. like a horny teenager boy, which he is. but it all feels so off, even though she know's that he'll never cross boundaries. his hands feel too rough, he's too fast and he never asks sana how she feels.
sana feels the emptiest when she thinks back to how she thanked you when she left your room, when all she wanted to say was "i love you." and cherish you for the rest of her life.
--
when sana's nineteen on her birthday, all she can think of is how she hates fuji's arms around her shoulder. how you stare at the arm like it's the most offensive thing in the world. and sana agrees too, it is offensive, so she shoves it off, playing it off like she has an itchy shoulder.
she smiles at the way you relax back into your seat, like you staked your claim on her. it makes her feel wanted by you. even if she knows its wrong that you kiss her messily in the bar bathroom five minutes later, she feels like life is right.
--
when sana's twenty, bored out of her mind in her apartment with fuji. she thinks of you, she often does anyways. eyes wide when she comes up with the best plan. she purposely fights with fuji, calls him too suffocating, watching tears roll down his eyes, and she feels bad. she really does, she hates seeing him cry because of her, but she needs to get away.
so she calls you, bags packed and waiting by the door. her heart leaping in her chest when you knock on the door. grabbing her bags and asking her to stay in the car. giving stern words to fuji before finally leaving together. away from fuji.
sana stays with you for weeks, waking up and sleeping next to you. always attached to the hip, just like magnets. she lets herself believe this is her life, living with you, being with each other forever. she fits perfectly in your hold, as well as you in her. she always tells you she loves you, but only after you fallen asleep. she whispers it into your ears like they'll be heard. like a spell she put you under.
she doesn't think about fuji until he texts her much later, asking if it's okay to meet up and make up. so she goes back, feeling awful about letting her boyfriend believe she's mad at him. she avoids you for months to not feel the guilt. but it eats at her every day.
--
when sana's twenty-four and enjoying a stroll in the city with fuji. he proposes to her, with both their families around for the surprise. as she listens to him, one knee up, professing his love for her. she looks at her mother, her mother with happy tears in her eyes and she can't find herself to say no, so she says yes instead.
wedding planning is fun when she thinks about it as a wedding with you, so the best she can do is ask you to be her maid of honor. she presents to you the wedding invitation in your apartment. talking your ear off about how happy she is, watching you get more and more upset.
just waiting for you to tell her you want to run away with her, to elope together. move away and change names and live in europe together. she lists off all the things she can think of that a girl would like in a wedding, but you never ask her to run away. she knows its selfish, to want you to pull her out of her life, she just can't find the courage to pull herself out of it.
you show up to the wedding, in a gorgeous dress that she thinks that she would marry you in right now. you give a speech about how you, fuji, and sana all met. you talk with so much passion in your voice. she thinks that you might actually be happy for them. sana cries tears out of despair, maybe you really do think sana loves fuji. but she's in love with you.
when you make an analogy that fuji and sana are like magnets drawn to each other, the whole crowd awws, and sana feels her heart break. thats how she sees you and her, a perfect match. the rest of the wedding becomes unremarkable to her.
when you disappear, sana searches for you: eyes wide and frantic. calling up all your friends and family, but they all say the same thing, "she said she's going on vacation for a while, soul-searching?"
sana visits your house everyday, waiting for you to show up like hidden treasure. ever since she's found out she's been pregnant, she's been trying to find tell you about it. you should be the first to know, but you don't show up until a month later.
and when sana wakes up to the sight of you, it's like she's whole again. she walks away from that conversation sadder than ever, you don't drown in her eyes anymore. hands shuffling and changing positions often as she explains about her new incoming newborn.
--
when sana's twenty-five you walk out of her life. after the long labor and intense pain she went through, out came her little baby girl. wailing and crying at the introduction of the world, fuji's trying to wipe down sana's sweat and calm her down, but sana's drowsiness leads to her calling out your name instead, fuji think it's strange but doesn't comment on it. she sleeps for a long time.
when she wakes up to fuji excitedly telling sana that you are visiting. she tries her best to smooth out her hair and her heart rate jumps at the news. so she gets ready for you to visit her.
she thinks she'll name her daughter after you, the same girl she's so in love with. when she proposes the idea, you shut her down. she's never heard this tone before, so harsh and so mean. but she deserves it, the same way she knows she deserves all things bad to her when you look so dejected every time she leaves. she needs you by her side, she can't do motherhood alone with fuji, she doesn't think she can do life without you.
but then you say it, words that make her feel like her heart got pulled out of her chest. you pulled it out. you're moving away, a whole different country, a whole life without sana. and you want to, be away from sana. she can hear it in the way you say it, the way you stand up from the visitor's chair, having only sat there for a minute. the way you walk out of the room. you would have kept walking out had fuji not stopped you.
and sana's angry, after all this, you walk away. she can't tell who she's angry at anymore. angry at you, angry at fuji, angry at her mom, angry at the world. and she lands on it, she's angry at herself. with hot tears running down her face, you look back one more time, and you still leave. like you just double checked that it is exactly what you want to do, leave sana all alone.
--
when sana's thirty and thinking, "yeah, i am okay after all this time." she isn't. because her little girl has just run into you. and nearly hit her head, falling back. but with gentle and caring hands, you stand her back up. asking her daughter if she's alright. and as her daughter runs back to sana, sana can see you for the first time in five years.
your hair is longer, you look more tired, more lines on your face. but your eyes are still so wild, familiar eyes that she's found herself dreaming about for years. for five years to be exact, she dreams of you returning. so you walk up to sana and fuji, calm and collected about seeing them after five years.
but sana's panicking, like she's seen a ghost. you basically are a ghost in sana's life, she's been wondering lately if you really have been there in her life, if not for photos she really wonders if this is all a dream.
a dream that comes crashing down, you pick up a small girl, she's younger than sana's daughter. but she's got your wild eyes and cute nose. and sana thinks that she could die here. right now the rug could be pulled out from under her and she wouldn't utter a peep.
you have a daughter, and a wife. a gorgeous wife who smiles at you like how sana used to. and her eye line follows, you look your wife with the same passion of when you were both eighteen and far too stupid to understand anything in the world. you look at this woman like you used to look at sana.
"it's been a while." sana's voice cuts in. she needs to hear your voice after so long.
"yeah, i guess it has." you reply, finally looking at her after so long. sana gulps, willing the tears away. you sound the same, lighter than your last conversation, like you've made peace with it.
"honey, you're crying." fuji says wiping away sana's tear and you smile at that. like you've finally accepted fuji as her husband.
"oh i didn't notice." sana laughs, rapidly wiping her tears away. she's embarrassed, here she is thinking that you still love her, but you don't. not anymore.
sana tries her best to talk with fuji and momo. them talking about their line of work and interests. but sana can only stare at you.
eyes wide open.
--
a/n: i think im actually evil for writing this. like no joke. but anyways!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!
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minteyeddevil · 1 year
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Reactions to Calling Them Husband
(Silly little headcanon my sister and I were talking about, and also inspired by those dorky videos on tiktok lol.)
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Lucifer:
You were at an event at the Demon Lord’s castle, surrounded by demons who were very interested in the human that seemed to tame the seven demon lords. Many of them surrounded you, asking you questions and just all around obsessing over you to the point where you were feeling overwhelmed.
As if sensing your unease, Lucifer was at your side instantly, his hand at the small of your back. “Need rescuing?” he teased, using his wings to barricade you away from some of the other demons.
You smiled up at him and as you were stepping away, you addressed a demon still trying to talk to you: “Sorry, I need to step away with my husband. Bye now.”
This made him almost stop in his tracks; almost. But he did stare down at you with the smallest sign of awe on his face that you would be brave enough to address him as ‘husband’ to another demon.
Once alone and out of ear shot of the others, he leans down and whispers to you: “Bold of you to address me as such in front of of the lesser demons. Can you imagine the rumors that are going to spread now?”
He silently enjoys the panicked look that spreads on your face for a moment before smirking and adding, “Not that I mind, of course. It will only cement that the wonderful human is all mine.”
Expect him to have a hand on you the rest of the evening and will smirk and beam the entire time if you address him as your husband again.
Mammon:
The two of you were at Hell’s Kitchen, having a small dinner together in celebration of passing your exams; Mammon by the skin of his teeth, but he still passed! When the waiter came up to take your orders, you looked at Mammon out of your peripherals, deciding now was the best time as ever to try out the new ‘prank’ you saw going around on Devilgram.
“Yes, I’ll have the sauteed wild hair liver, and my husband will have the shadow goose meat and egg lasagna. Thank you!”
He practically spit out his drink and just stared at you for a moment. Your smirk at him makes him fluster but he clears his throat and does his best to smirk right back at you.
“O-Of course you’d want the Great Mammon to be your husband! I’m the best demon out there and you’d better count your blessings that I would want a dumb human like you as my partner!”
You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at him, and he clears his throat again, taking one of your hands in his. “Okay, okay! You aren’t a dumb human at all. In fact...you’re the best thing that has ever happened ta me. Would...would ya really want me as your husband, MC?”
You throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek over and over at how sweet he is, and assure him that of course you would love to marry this dorky demon.
Leviathan:
The two of you were gaming away in his room, when he asked if you could order something for the two of you to eat. You knew the usual place he loved to get food from and decided to call them up; but a wicked idea came to mind as well. You wanted to see how he would react to you pulling that new prank that was going around.
You rang up the restaurant and began ordering the food the two of you wanted: “Yes, hi! Can I place an order for delivery? I would like a backstabbing sandwich with a blood strawberry juice, and my husband would like a spicy rainbow pizza with bufo egg milk tea...”
His headphones got thrown off the moment he heard you call him ‘husband’, and he was at your side in an instant.
“Husband? Did you just call me your husband?”
“Yes. Now shush I am trying to listen.“
He freaks out and flails a bit around the room, repeating the word ‘husband’ over and over. Until you are finally off the phone does he cling to you.
“Would you really want me to be your husband? This gross, ugly--”
You kiss him to silence his tiraid. “Of course, I would love for you to be my husband, Levi.”
Totally changes your usernames to something dorky to symbolize your relationships going to the next level.
Satan:
You two are hanging out in his room, studying together for some exams coming up at RAD. He is the best tutor you know of, so of course you are clinging to him for dear life to help you pass. But, he is also the love of your life, so spending any time with him is wonderful for the two of you.
You were sitting on his bed, finishing up a study sheet, when you noticed that you would need another one of his books that was across the room. You looked over to him and gave him the best puppy eyes you could.
“Hubby, do you mind getting that book for me?”
He got up to get said book, but froze midway in his movement. “Hubby? As in...husband?”
“Yes,” you tease, and suddenly he is on you, no book in hand whatsoever.
“Did you really just call me your husband? Because if you did, you are going to have to call me that again, and in front of my brothers. I hope you know what you are signing up for.”
“Clearly I know,” you say with a smirk as you push back against him. “Husband.”
Needless to say, there wasn’t much more studying getting done the rest of that evening.
Asmodeus:
Shopping was a favorite past-time for the both of you, and it was always done together. He was your personal stylist and you a literal model for him; it was quite the exchange, but very enjoyable for the two of you.
You were perusing a section of brightly colored clothing, when you decided to get his full attention: “Hubby, do you think this would look good on me?”
He was at your side instantly. “Did you...did you just call me hubby?” His eyes are wide and he has the biggest smile on his face.
“It just felt natural to call you that. I hope that’s okay.”
“Okay!? It’s beyond okay! Oh my gosh I can’t believe you called me your husband! We need to take a picture and post about it on Devilgram!”
He continues to gush about being your husband, and address himself as such to anyone who gives him an ounce of attention.
Also, totally takes you to a jewelry store to find matching rings for the both of you to wear to seal the deal.
Beelzebub:
You were cooking in the kitchen, when you figured you needed some help reaching for something high in the cabinets. Beel was usually the one around when it was your turn to make dinner, so you decided to call for him.
When he didn’t reply, you tried again: “Beel? Beelzebub!?”
You let out a heavy sigh, and decided to try something new to get his attention. “Where is my helpful husband when I need him!?”
He appeared in the doorway almost instantly, a look of shock and surprise on his face. “Did you...just call me your husband?”
You laugh at the shocked look on his face and motion for him to come help you. “If you don’t get this for me, I might just take it back...”
He moved so fast. You couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness to help you. He even offered to carry you on his shoulders to get things higher up as needed.
He stayed by your side while you were cooking, his eyes never leaving you. As if he couldn’t take it anymore, he wrapped his around your middle and nuzzled into your cheek.
“Could you...call me your husband again?”
you turned in his arms and hugged him close. “As many times as you like.”
Belphegor:
The two of you were cuddled up together, watching a movie. The idea had been gnawing at the back of your head for some time now, so you figured you were try out the prank on him and see what his reaction would be.
you turned to him and asked, “Husband, could you get us some popcorn from the kitchen, please?”
“Sure,” he mumbled, and got up to head to kitchen. He disappeared through the doorway, and for a minute you thought he didn’t really hear you; until he shot back into the room.
“Wait...did you call me ‘husband’?”
You broke into laughter at the look of confusion on his face, and reassured him that you indeed called him that. He smirked at you and came up to you, towering over you on the couch.
“So I’m your husband now,” he chuckled, leaning down to nuzzle you. “Better make sure you keep calling me that. I really like how it sounds.”
Diavolo:
You knew you had to be careful pulling this prank with Diavolo, given his status and reputation in the Devildom. So it was best to do it when it was just the two of you alone. Given that he had invited you for tea, you figured it would be fun to try it.
You arrived at the Demon Lord’s castle, and Barbatos escorted you to the little room where you both would usually have tea. There was already an assortment of cookies and sweets set up along with the hot tea, and Diavolo was smiling widely when you took your seat.
After a bit of conversation, you figured now was the best time to try it: “Husband, could you pass me a few of those cookies please?”
He was reaching out for said cookies, when he froze and gave you the most dumbfounded look, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. But it was soon replaced with a beaming smile.
“Husband? I really like the sound of that.”
He took your hand in his, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I don’t mind at all if you wish to call me that more often...”
Barbatos:
You were spending time with him in the kitchen of the Demon Lord’s castle, watching him work and move around with ease. He was so handsome and joy to your eyes that you couldn’t help but sigh out loud.
“Aren’t I the luckiest, having such a handsome husband.”
If you looked closely, you could catch the slightest hitch in what he was doing; but he kept working as if nothing happened.
For a moment you thought he was going to ignore you; or maybe he hadn’t really heard you given that it was such a small mumble from your brain to begin with. But instead, he said:
“And I the luckiest in return to have such a doting partner.”
you flustered, only the blush even more when he turned around to look at you and walked over to lean and press a kiss to your forehead.
“If you intend to be a distraction, I hate to admit it’s working. My precious little partner.”
Simeon:
You were curled up with him, reading a book together, when a shiver ran through your body. You tried snuggling up to him more, but eventually caved and asked if he had a blanket you could use.
He covered you up and cuddled under the blanket with you, an around wrapping around you to hold you close, and you gave contented sigh.
“Thank you, love. You’re such a good husband.”
You said it so causally that it seemed to go unnoticed for a moment; until you felt him tense next to you. He turned a bit to face you, eyes wide.
“Husband? Me?”
“Of course,” you assure him. “You are so kind and caring towards me, and always take care of me. I love you, my precious husband.”
He felt his heart thudding in his chest so hard he swore it would break right through his ribs. He pulled you into a tight hug and places kisses all over your head and face.
“I do hope that you will keep calling me that. It makes me feel so special...”
Solomon:
He had come to visit you while you were in the human realm, and the two of you were walking around the park near your house when you got a phone call from one of the brothers.
He didn’t mind the interruption; but part of him did feel jealous you were talking to one of the brothers, up until you said, “Oh, I am spending the day with my husband.”
He could hear the screaming coming from the phone and laughed along with you at their reaction; but he then leaned in close to you once you were off the phone and whispered, “So I am your husband now?”
“If you want to be,” you teased in return, placing a hand on his chest.
“Oh, I truly do,” he replied, pulling you in for a tight hug and kiss.
From that point on, he referred to himself as your husband to anyone you came into contact with, including the brothers whenever they called and you were around him.
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