#as some of my favorite moments of his are where he reaches out to those deemed by others too ‘unstable’ or ‘unreliable’ to ever amount to

[ashesbreadandbutter]

Vox x Alastor || Tell Me Who Did This, Now.

So I know I know, commission work yes yes I'm getting to it BUT! I wrote a little blurb for that little comic @milariro drew for radiostatic which is literally like my favorite ship I think. 👀

Anyway hope y'all like it! ÙwÚ

Word Count: 2k

Rating: PG(?), maybe PG-13. Mostly angsty ish feel?

-

It isn't the first time he's lost track of him somewhere but every time it happens Alastor hopes it's the last. 

He hasn't seen Vox in days and considering how close they are… it's strange, worrisome. 

Vox usually keeps up with him, taking the time to send messages and letters and pop up at the most sudden of times and Alastor always responds. Life in hell has been growing on the two of them, Vox has been so excited recently… so eager to announce that he had a dream, one where he could publicize the two of them, where they could happily pursue their goals… together and Alastor both loved… and despised the very idea. 

Really he himself is fine with his little following; those few sinners, Vox included, who seemed to always tune in but he'd be a liar if he told himself that he didn't see this …new behavior that seemed to jump out of his friend. Vox was a big dreamer, they had spent many long hours talking to each other, laughing and joking while also spewing their deepest hopes and dreams…well usually it was Vox who did so while Alastor listened and encouraged him but he couldn't help but want to stop the other at the same time.

To tell him that he didn't need to go out there and get big and famous or whatever because Alastor likes the way Vox already is but his friend, his silly friend had his hopes for their pitiful, shameful lives down here so who would Alastor really be to stop him?

To put it lightly, Alastor is anxious over the other demon who was still just hardly taller than Alastor's own shoulder. He's worried that something might have happened to his friend considering how long he's been missing now. After all, Alastor had noticed the way they seemed to draw more attention these days when they were out together… the sneaky glances and judging gazes the other sinners would give them.

Alastor doesn't care, couldn't care less especially considering how easy most demons are to get rid of but… Vox had seemed to grow rather conscious of his presence outside because of it all. 

There's been times where he's even mentioned it, brought it up when it was just him and Alastor together.. Alastor could never forget it, the first time it was ever brought up… the way that Vox seemed to look over his shoulder and double check locks and doors with the excuse of making sure they were ‘safe’. 

It angers Alastor. 

Annoys him so bad to the point that he'd kill them, split their skulls and the ground they walked and before Vox’s very own feet but… for some reason whenever Alastor gets to that point… the point of nearly no return, Vox will lightly brush his hand against his own and while that kind, warm smile and tell Alastor that it was okay. 

That they didn't matter. 

That he didn't care. 

And so on and so forth. 

Alastor moves through the room now, annoyance dripping into the air around him as he seems to get ready to go somewhere… to go look for him because after everything they've been through so far he could admit that he didn't… like it when he couldn't keep tabs on Vox. When they weren't together so Alastor could defend him if needed. When he couldn't hover around Vox like a hawk threatening to peck out anyone's eyes who dared to even spill a drop of liquor on his shoes. He's smiling but he's anything but happy as he gets dressed to go out and hunt down Vox himself..

It's not until he's all ready, a clawed hand reaching out to his front door when his ears suddenly perk as the sound of knocking from the other side fills the room. 

Alastor freezes for a moment, his mind simply going blank in that very moment except for the thought of Vox that lingered and as he shifted gears and continued to reach out and turn the door before another knock could be heard, Alastor found himself faced with Vox. 

Immediately there's a surge of electricity that rushes through his body at being faced with his friend. 

He's relieved, for starters, just seeing him but then that turns into confusion, then slowly into unbridled rage when he takes in the sight of the other more closely. 

“Al..” Vox chuckles softly, that little chuckle that Alastor had grown rather fond of over their time of knowing each other even in those moments when he did it after telling some stupid joke or when it happened when they seemed to press close to each other in the moments when they could. He usually loves hearing it but this time he does not. 

Especially because it's glitchy, corrupted from what he can see. 

Not while Vox stands before him looking like a stray, beaten dog who practically limped its way back to its owner.

“I know I'm later than I said I'd be but hey, I'm here now yeah?” Vox starts off, or at least attempts to through riggidy default settings and his scratchy voice box though Alastor seems to understand him anyway. 

He doesn't want to though. 

He doesn't want to be faced by him when he's like this and all Alastor manages to do is let out a glitchy sound himself though unlike Vox he's not tired or worn, he's energized, livid. 

His eyes move over Vox's form; looking at his heavily dirtied and wrinkled shirt that seemed to be missing a few buttons then they look at the way Vox seems to cradle one of his arms and of course Alastor takes in his screen which seemed shattered, clearly punched in. 

Rightfully so, Vox seems to grow self conscious as the way Alastor hasn't responded yet. He knew that appearing like this at such a late hour would be one thing for the man but it's so strange to see Alastor so… serious. Vox laughs a little, lowering his gaze as if shy, unwilling to show his face as he slowly looks down to his shoes.

A moment of silence washes over them and Vox can't help but rub his already sore arm.

Maybe he shouldn't have come after all? Perhaps Alastor was even angry with him for doing so after already being hours late… Vox knew he shouldn't have come, should have just dealt with this on his own like he preferred to do so but they both knew Alastor would have come looking for him if he hadn't shown up because that's just who Alastor was when it came to Vox. 

His rushing thoughts come in bundles, so much so that the silence becomes deafening and Vox can't help the way his body wants to just naturally step back and walk away as if he never came to begin with, and maybe that was for the best? He hates bothering Alastor, hated not being strong enough to always hold his ground or to scare others away like Alastor so easily seemed to do and maybe it makes him feel inferior, unworthy of being with the other man which always makes his heart ache when he comes down to such a conclusion. He has so many dreams for them but at times much like these ones he wondered if he was just getting reality messed up with said dreams. 

It's not until a finger slips under his screen and lifts it to make Vox's gaze focus on Alastor's once more but this time… Vox seemed to freeze at what he saw on the other's face, his functioning eye growing wider at the scene as he finds himself suddenly holding his breath. 

He's distorted, glitching and reversing, sigils forming in the air behind him as his eyes look into Vox's. His neck twisted over to the side and eyes big, red, and ticking in a way that makes it seem that Alastor is just barely clinging to patience… like he could burst at any moment in a fit of claws and teeth and as Vox stares up at him, shocked, he can feel shivers run up his back as Alastor continues to hold his head in place. He's gentle but firm, refusing to let this go which was something Vox would also say to him..

To just forget it and move on but no, nonono.

Alastor refused not to be pissed and as far as he knew, he had worked to do..

People to punish, bitches to burn. 

“Who… Did this.. to you?” He says and with the way the room seems to shake it's clear that Alastor is not in fact asking but instead demanding to know. Vox can feel the bloodlust leaking off of the other demon, the fury he carries and Vox was sure that if he was anyone else in hell in that very moment that Alastor probably…wouldn't have hesitated to spill his blood and the ground he stood on. 

Vox recognized the look, his eyes slowly lowering again now while Alastor shifts his hand to caress the side of Vox's face, running his thumb over the undamaged side and though it's a kind gesture Vox can feel the way Alastor's hand seems to lightly shake. 

Vox makes a soft sound, something that he didn't make often and closes the gap between the two of them, wrapping his arms around Alastor and clinging to him and at first the taller of the two freezes at the reaction before slowly but surely… calming, at least as much as he could right now. 

It takes a moment for Alastor to immediately respond but Vox doesn't mind, not when he can feel how warm Alastor was and smell his scent so closely and after everything it seems to take some pressure off the TV demon. When Alastor does hug him back his hold is a bit firmer, a bit tighter, like he may get upset if Vox dares to pull away from him now. 

“Alastor, please…” Vox sighs softly,  brokenly and though Vox's voice box is fucked Alastor still makes out those words and the gentle way Vox seems to speak to him. 

“Please just…just leave it.” He says next, moving to bury his head in Alastor's chest and stepping in closer only to tumble forward onto a knee making Alastor jolt and quickly grip him closer before he finds himself in both of them. “Please let it go… I'll be okay, I'll recover. I always do don't I?” he says, practically begging the other man and Alastor feels his face twitch and he's never before more angry at his own curse for not being able to show just how upset he is right now. Yes of course he was sure Vox would be okay but he despised the idea of the other growing used to being treated this way by others...

“I'll be okay see?” Vox tries to convince the other or maybe… he's trying to convince himself now as he lifts his head and gives Alastor that silly, stupid smile again and it both annoys the deer demon but also convinces him enough to not leave right now and go hunt down however did this for there was all the time in the world to do such later. 

Vox had come to him at this time for a reason and even if the reason was simply because Vox had no one else Alastor didn't care. He'd help him just like he always did… and so with a huff Alastor looks down to Vox with that everlasting smile though it does seem strained. 

“Come inside… I'll take care of you.” He says and though Vox still feels guilty for showing up and possibly ruining Alastor's day with his appearance he also feels… grateful knowing Alastor was there just like he always was. So Vox gives in, sighing and nodding softly, gathering himself and getting to his feet and as Alastor holds the door wide open for him he trails in before the door closes back and snaps shut behind the two of them now allowing them to be alone together, where they were always guaranteed safety from the hellish world around them. 

Where Alastor could continue to keep a close eye on him for just a while longer. 

~

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #alastor x vox #alastor #viviz #hazbin hotel fandom #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #fanart #radiostatic #alastor the radio demon #vox x alastor #blurb #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #i will write almost anythin #writing commissions #please commission me #writing comms open #fanfic writing #writers of tumblr #writer for hire #writing #writeblr #hurt/comfort #fav ship

[tojirights]

i’m so obsessed with your alastor fics oh my lord 🫡

if you haven’t done any already, could you right one where alastor is very possessive and flaunt-y over his partner while running errands or while in public? showing every other sinner who owns them, body and soul??

a/n: eee thank u love :)) absolutely LOVE possessive alastor

possessive!alastor who made it clear from the first moment he met you, that'd he would be the one to have you. he religiously walked you to your room every night, would wake you with flowers or coffee every morning. he won your heart very quickly with such gentlemanly behavior.

possessive!alastor who's glare was strong enough to make even the king of hell himself think twice before reaching out to greet you in a hug. this was before you were even officially dating the radio demon. now, everyone knows better than to look in your direction.

possessive!alastor who technically does own your soul, but only in the way that he owns it as a treasure. he would never abuse the ownership of something so precious to him.

possessive!alastor who wasted little time in claiming you in the public eye. literally. you might as well have a collar around your neck that reads "alastor's" and you would do so if you were asked. there was rarely a time when you were seen out in public without alastor's hand on your hip or his bite marks on your neck.

possessive!alastor who has no problem pushing you against some dirty wall, hitching your leg up over his waist and taking you just out of sight. he could use his shadows to hide you, but only uses them to blind the other lowlife demons from seeing your tits or under your skirt. those were for him, and no other being was to ever see them.

possessive!alastor who has, in fact, been balls deep in you while on a broadcast. it's actually his favorite way to do his show now, his pretty little dear sitting snugly on his cock while he talks. it works well for both of you, seeing as his voice and cock so deep in you is enough to have to cumming all over his lap. he doesn't even both to bring a change of clothes, wants everyone to see the wet stain you leave on his pants.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x you smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor imagines #hazbin alastor smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader imagines #alastor #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor smut #alastor headcanons

[barbieaemond]

A curse for a curse

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, sub!Aemond, smut, oral sex (f and m receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, p in v, chains kink (idk if that’s even a thing but it’s there)

Word count: 8.5K

Author’s note: PLEASE READ THIS ->There's a little canon divergenge as in Rook's Rest is not happened yet, so Aegon is King and Aemond went to Harrenhal. Based on a request I got for sub!Aemond.

Taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @ashovertheriver (y’all i can’t remember the others, I had my taglist in my old blog so…sorry 🫠)

Harrenhal tastes like curse and smoke when she enters the blackened and ruined walls.

She is sure, as she is sure that dragons are real, that this place has been cursed over and over since Balerion and Aegon the Conqueror proved that not even stone was safe against dragonfire.

The air is heavy in her lungs, as breathing through a thick layer of wool and her steps echo down the corridors in a strange way; it seems like a never ending sound, echoing through the walls and many lost ages.

But her stride is steady, her eyes fixed on the doors of the Hall of One Hundred Hearths where she is sure to find him, where she will end this thing for which she has no name, and yet it is draining her, wearing her out like a starved leech.

“When is Aemond coming back?” the Queen Mother asks, and then little Jaehaera asks the same question, even Helaena, in those rare moments of clarity, wonders about her brother. And each time, she doesn’t know what to say. Her lip grows stiff, her jaw clenches and she wonders obsessively from dawn till dusk. What is he doing there?

Why has he not returned now that Harrenhal has been taken?

What is he doing with that bastard woman? 

“They say she’s a witch.” King Aegon says with his glassy eyes, putting down his cup as he looks around to choose a target on which to pour his anger. Wine seems to not work anymore, it is not enough to quench his thirst for revenge, and unfortunately, she happens to be the easiest mark.

“He killed everyone in that gods-forsaken place. Everyone except the witch.” He leans forward, watching her with amused anticipation just like a child who waits for his favorite toy to break. “Why did he not do it, sweet good-sister?”

He wants her to snap, and surely something does snap inside her, but she refuses to be humiliated like this.

“I do not know, your Grace. Perhaps my husband learned the Gods’ mercy and decided to spare a woman.”

His chest shakes violently as he laughs, and there’s nothing more humiliating than his laugh, not even the whispers traveling all the way from the Riverlands.

He’s taken her as his prisoner, keeps her in his chambers.

She has utterly bewitched him.

Every word is a stab to her heart and every time his word reaches her through a raven, the wound splits more open and festers.

He does not mention the bastard witch. He says nothing on the matter. He informs her of the war progressing, tells her he will come back soon.

Soon.

Soon was two moons ago and he’s still there.

It doesn’t matter anymore, she thinks as she reaches the doors of Harrenhal. Soon is now.

The look on Ser Criston Cole is almost comical as two soldiers open the doors of the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. “Princess?”

She immediately looks around, but there’s no silver in that huge black hall.

“What are you doing here?” the Hand asks, walking to her “It is not safe for you—”

“Where is the Prince?” she cuts him off, her tongue hitting her teeth like a blade cleaving the air.

Ser Criston looks puzzled for a moment, and even if she doesn’t show it, anguish twists her gut. But then he says “The Prince is not here, your Grace. He’s out, on the battle camp.”

She looks at the soldiers in the room, watching her like some kind of weird creature—a lamb in a den of wolves. That is no place for a princess, no place for a woman. And yet, it is precisely her place.

She belongs to his side. As he belongs to hers. It’s what she’s been telling herself for two moons of sleepless nights.

She should have come here with him in the first place, war be damned.

“Leave, please.” She orders the men “All of you. I need a word with the Hand.”

They may not be used to taking orders from a woman, but they immediately leave the Hall like a pack of unruly children.

The thud of the doors is like some kind of curtain falling and she is finally free of this act, free to snap.

“What is going on here, Ser Criston?”

He shifts on his feet, looking down, looking utterly incapable to answer her question. “The situation in the Riverlands is quite delicate at the moment—”

“I don’t give a shit about the war, Ser Criston.” She almost hisses “You are perfectly aware of what I’m asking.”

His mouth shuts and she resists the urge to use her hands as talons to part his lips and grab the truth from his throat.

“What is going on between Aemond and the witch.” she states, she is not asking.

The Hand sighs deeply and takes a step closer. His whole demeanor changes, becomes confidential, almost fatherly. “My Princess, you must not believe the foul whispers that have been spread.”

She feels a glimmer of relief blooming in her heart, but not strong enough to relinquish the leeches sucking at her bones. “What should I believe then?”

“It’s true. The Prince spared her life.”

“Does he keep her in his chambers?”

“What? Seven Hells, no. She has her own chamber. A little room in the wing intended for servants.”

“Did she ever visit his rooms? Alone?”

Ser Criston looks down for a moment, his lips contracting. “You must understand, my Princess. There are no servants here.”

The wound between her ribs cracks open.

There are no servants here. Did she help him dress? Did she help him bathe? Did she do all the things she used to do? All the things only she was entitled to do?

“I want to see her.”

“Princess, it is not wise.”

“I believe it is very much wise, Ser Criston, since my marriage is at stake here.”

 Ser Cole sighs again. “She’s…dangerous, my Princess. She’s eerily persuasive.”

“So, you think it’s true? That she’s a witch?”

“I’m not sure about her powers, my Princess. All I know is that…one of our soldiers spat in her face when she was still a captive by order of the Rogue Prince and she just…murmured something to this man.” He swallows lowering his gaze and takes a deep breath. “The next day he ripped out his own tongue with his bare hands, bleeding to death.”

Disturbing as these words can be, she keeps a steady and cold face.  

“She claims she can read the flames. That they speak to her, that she saw all of this happening—the Prince coming here. She claims she saw the fate of the war.”

A long silence stretches between them, but however right the Hand’s reasoning may be, she is not keen to let magic and superstitions take what she has come here to retrieve. “Take me to her.”

Ser Cole stalls for a moment, trying to make her give up by merely looking at her. But at last, he caves. “As you wish, my Princess.”

Her room is completely bare, save for a hearth and a bundle of dirty covers and a pillow thrown on the ground.

She enters and the air feels even heavier, more cursed. She feels it like something weighing on her shoulders, drying her throat.

There’s a woman sitting before the fire, clad in rags with long black hair falling down her back. She seems to register the door opening and closing only minutes later, as if she was too focused on her fire staring. But then she turns her head and looks at the woman before her with a strange smile.

“Alas, you have come.”

The Princess blinks quickly, watching the woman stand up and walk closely to her, chains on her feet and hands. She feels something unsettling under her skin, behind her eyes, as if she can’t stop looking straight into the green eyes of the witch, not even if she wanted to.

“You must be Alys.” She says, quickly scanning the witch before returning, inevitably, like a magnet, into her bright green eyes.

The woman, whose age is impossible to determine, keeps her smile as she looks at the Princess from head to toe. “You are exactly as I saw you in the flames.”

“That will save us some time, then. No need for introductions.”

“No. I know who you are.” The witch says, curling her cracked lips some more “I can see his mark on you.”

“His mark?”

“Yes.” She says, unnaturally widening her eyes. “He leaves a mark on everything. Things, places, people. Much like me, I’d say.” From her throat gushes a high-pitched laugh, jarring and spiteful. “We have much in common, the Kinslayer and I.”

The way she utters the last words makes the Princess grind her teeth, as if they were…what? Friends? Allies?

Lovers?

“Have you been in his chambers all this time?” she finally asks and the witch has the boldness to roll her eyes. “Is that the only reason you’re here? To know if he cheated on you?”

“Answer my question.” The Princess orders.

“Darling, If I wanted to fuck him, I would’ve done it ages ago.” She starts laughing again, grinning mischievously and then she sighs. “You left your mark on him as well. I can feel you in his head. And you are so heavy.”

She doesn't know what to make of that. There is not a single reason why she should trust her word. And it's not just the alleged powers this woman may possess. It's her whole demeanor. Haughty, even though she is a bastard. Mocking, as if she looks at the young woman before her, and sees much, much more.

“Just as you, I’d say, since he’s forsaken his family and his wife to do whatever you’re making him do it with your witchcraft.”

She bursts out laughing, so loud that the Princess flinches and takes a step back.

“I’m not making him doing anything. I can’t play with his head. He’s too stubborn. I did not curse him, sweetheart. Your beloved prince is already accursed.”

“Then what do you want? Gold? Lands?”

“I do what the flames command. I serve no God, no King, no Lord. And neither does your husband. It was his choice to see.”

“To see what?”

“What the flames choose to show. I know how this war will end. I know which color will stain the other for good. I know who will sit on the Iron Throne.”

The Princess furrows her brow, confused and puzzled, apparently pleasing the witch who smiles again and nods. “Oh yes, he will make a sight to behold wearing the Conqueror’s Crown.”

Who? Aemond? On the Iron Throne?

“So that’s how you’re keeping him here. With visions and fantasies.”

“He asked me to. At the moment I’m more valuable to him than all his generals and soldiers put together. Besides, I know how to deal with him.”

The Princess almost laughs at this. “I see. You think you can handle him, don’t you? A wild dragon for you to tame, is that what he is for you?”

“Well, I’m not denying he’s handsome enough to please my eyes.”

“And once you have tamed him, what will you do? How will you handle him when you scratch the surface, and you see the neglected son? Lonely, misunderstood, maimed. The boy no one cared for.”

It is the first time the witch does not have a quick biting answer. It makes the Princess rejoice.

“All your witchcraft won’t be enough to handle him.”

The witch falls silent. There is a distant look in her eyes as she observes the Princess and the more she stares, the more the younger woman feels dreadfully uncomfortable. She starts to feel something in the back of her mind, like a gentle abstract push.

“Ser Criston." she says suddenly, swallowing but keeping a collected mask. "The keys, please."

“Your Grace, Prince Aemond will not be ha—”

“I’ll deal with Prince Aemond.” She says, looking straight at the witch and the ghost of a superb smile hovers on her lips “I know how to handle him.”

The Knight slides the keys from his armor and hands them to the Princess. She is ready to free the witch’s wrists, but she stops, locking her eyes on Alys. “There is a carriage outside. And some guards who will do whatever Ser Criston will order them. Take it and go wherever you want, there’s even gold in the—"

“I told you, I don’t want—”

“I don’t care of what you want!” The Princess snaps, raising her voice, and the pushing dissolves. “You live to serve the flames? Fine. Do it elsewhere, far away from us.”

Alys shuts her parched mouth, and simply nods. “As you wish, Princess.”

She removes the shackles from her feet, and then from her hands, holding the chains between her fingers. Alys touches her hurting wrists, before tilting her head down in some kind of bow, or maybe a mocking gesture. The Princess cannot bring herself to care.

The witch makes her way past the younger woman but at last, she stops for a moment, leaning back her head of dark curls to say “I did touch him, just once. He put a knife to my throat.”

Vhagar likes to nestle on the burned blackened towers of Harrenhal, like some kind of dreadful reminder of the legacy of ruins and ashes Balerion the Dread has unleashed on this cursed land.

Aemond enters the castle walls with his circle of counselors and generals. They crowd on him like bees with honey and he knows why. He knows that most of the time they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about. They hang on his lips and jump like little good soldiers, jostling with one another in the hope of gaining something more when the war ends. A land, a title, one of them had even had the guts to offer a daughter to marry.

“I am not sure of what you are implying, my Lord.” He had said to the Lord with a dangerous black glint in his eye, as the fool thought it was wise to remind the Kinslayer that he and his wife had had no children yet. “Whether you are insulting me or my wife. I am sure of one thing, though. You will shut your hole before I take your tongue and feed it to my dragon.”

There were no more talks of unwed daughters between those walls.

“My Prince, if you allow me—” one of them says as they enter the Hall of the Hundred Hearths “We should give the lords who pledged for the Blacks more time to consider—”

“I gave them enough.” He says turning with a glare, looking even taller than he is, with his silver armor streaked with gold and the long green cloak. “They will pledge to my brother before dawn or I will bring dragonfire to their lands. Then we shall see where their loyalty lies while they burn to the crisp.”

They all shush and Aemond almost thanks the Gods for this brief blessed moment of peace. He ponders for a moment and then looks at a young soldier behind him.

“Summon the witch.” He orders “Bring her to me.”

He looks down to remove his riding gloves but out of the corner of his eye, he sees that the boy is still there.

“Uhm, my Prince, the witch is not here anymore.”

“What do you mean she’s not here?”

“S-she left, your Grace.”

The last word does not even leave his mouth the poor soldier feels a hand around his neck and the Prince is easily lifting him from the ground as if made of feathers. “You let her flee?!” he rages with his eye blown wide.

“I-I did—not your Grace!” the boy manages to croak while he’s choking, legs kicking like a chicken in the butcher’s hands.

“He’s right. I did.” Her voice cuts through the air and Aemond turns his head in a blink, looking positively stunned to hear his wife, to see her there.

He lets the soldier boy go and stares at her on the threshold of the huge Hall. He blinks with disbelief, as if he’s finally able to see after days and nights spent in a cloud of fog. Something shifts inside him him—something that has been wandering ceaselessly day and night, lifting the weight from his shoulders, from his black heart. Not Harrenhal’s weight, not Alys’. A weight far darker, a curse far more dangerous.

“Out.” he orders the Lords “All of you.”

They obey at once, scattering down the Hall only to stop for a moment before the Princess, to pay their respect.

The doors close but she stays on the threshold. His eye roams on her figure, once and then twice. He has never seen her wearing such a simple dress, easy to disguise her noble roots, her royal ones. And even though the mere sight stokes almost three moons of ugly and burning desire, it only makes him angry. It only makes him ashamed.

“What in the name of the Seven are you doing here?”

She walks to him and without uttering a single word or even sparing a glance to him, she begins removing the heavy armor plates from his body.

“What are you doing?” he asks with deep wrinkles on his forehead.

“My duty as wife.” She replies sternly, holding his arm “Or did you forget you had one?” she looks at him and sees rage blazing behind his eye—rage and maybe a tinge of hurt.  

“Am I doing it right?” she asks removing the armor plate from his forearm “Was your witch friend better than me?”

The metal clatters on the ground as he grabs her arm, hard, pulling her close. “I asked you a question. We’re at war and you go strolling around the continent? Have you lost your mind?”

She tries to wriggle herself out of his iron grip, unsuccessfully as always. “How strange, that is a question I should ask you.”

“Enough.” He says grinding his teeth, digging his fingertips into her skin until her mouth twists with pain.

“Enough was two moons ago, Aemond. When you were supposed to come home, to your family, to me.”

“In case you didn’t notice, we’re at war, my dear wife. Things in war don’t go exactly as you planned them—”

“Oh spare me!” she cuts him off, freeing herself “Spare me the war talk, that’s all I’ve been hearing from you.”

“What did you expect exactly? Love letters?”

“I expected what I deserved. To know the truth. You have not mentioned her. Ever, not even once. Do you have the faintest idea of what I’ve been through all this time? Of all the dirt they have been spreading behind my back?”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says turning his back on her, as if he had not done that enough.

“No, you will.” She promises, circling him to look straight at him again. “They said you were so besotted with her to deny her leaving your chambers.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says again, closing his eye for a moment.

“They said, and this was from the wretched mouth of your beloved brother, that you put a child in her womb since I was not able to give you an heir.”

“I don’t want to hear about it!” he shouts, and she knows she hit a nerve there, because he never shouts.

“Why? Does it make you ashamed? It should. I had to hear all of it. I had to endure it while you stayed here playing fortune teller with your witch whore.”

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and raises his gaze to look at her, dead serious. “You know nothing about her powers. She saw many things, happened precisely as she predicted. I needed her. I needed her powers and you had no right to send her away.”

“You needed her?” she repeats, pale with utter disbelief. “You needed her for what? For her to tell you how good you’ll look wearing the Conqueror’s Crown? To feed you with fairy tales while we risk our lives staying in the capital, unprotected because Dreamfyre can’t fight and Tessarion is still in Oldtown. What if the Blacks decide to attack us now? They have a dozen of dragons, we have only Sunfyre.”

“The Blacks will not attack.”

“Did she tell you this? Did she see this in the flames?” she can’t fight back the contempt curling her lips “Are you listening to yourself? Flames and visions to win a war? You poor fool.”

“Watch your mouth, woman.” he seethes “You don’t talk to me like this.”

“Or what? Are you going to chain me up? I kept her chains, you know? I thought you’d like a token of your time with the witch.”

“Did you come here for this? To make a scene like some common girl who feels threatened by another woman?” his lips turn upwards, curling and twisting with ugly deprecation “What do you think you know about the war? What is your contribution while you lie around in a lavish castle waiting for me to come back and fuck you? I’ll tell you. None. You can’t even perform your duty to give me an heir. And you come here to lecture me?”

The wound is rotting from the inside and he’s pouring salt on it.

“I came here for my dignity. As a woman, I have nothing else. I came here for your mother, who I fear will go mad with worry just as your sister. And lastly, to tell you that I’m with child.”

Aemond stills completely, so much that she thinks the witch’s curse is hitting him right now, no matter how far she is, turning him into stone.

“But it seems utterly irrelevant to me right now. So, go. Hurry! You might still find her.”

She moves to leave the room and he does it at the same time, trying to reach her, to stop her, but she flinches as he tries to touch her, battling his hands away.

Aemond utters her name, softly, and it makes her stomach turn.

“I will leave at dawn.” She informs him with a blank face “I won’t disturb you and your precious war any further. Fret not, husband. I will stay in my lavish castle like the good soldier I am, waiting for you to come back and fuck me.”

This is place is not only cursed, but it is also so freezing cold that she wishes for one of those direwolf furs the Northerners use to wear as she sits before the hearth in what she assumed to be Aemond’s chambers. The room is large, even larger than the ones they share in the Red Keep, but it’s completely bare and almost ominous with its black walls that stink of ash and smoke.

A cursed place, fitting for a cursed woman.

She has been for quite some time. Because she chose to stay by his side, because she chose to love him.

“We could turn to a Septon. Annulments are rare but possible. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins.” Her father had said in the aftermath of Lucerys’ death. She had looked at him like he was some kind of lunatic.

As if she could leave him, as if she could turn her back on him and marry another man.

As if he hadn’t left his mark on her.

She thought the Gods had cursed her for good, that was why, however much they tried, she couldn’t bear his child.

“A child is the highest of the blessings from the Gods.” Her mother had said during one of her last visits to the capital “How can they bless your union with a man so accursed?”

And yet.

She is impatiently waiting for the sun to set. Even if her limbs have never been so heavy, as much as her heart, she finds no reason to stay here, not when she can’t stand even the sight of him. But of course, how can there be peace in such a cursed place?

She hears the door opening. She knows his gait. She wished to hear it for two moons as she lied alone in their bed.

She hears him approach until he is beside her, but she does not look at him. She only sees his arm holding out a small tray.

“Eat.” An order, not an invitation.

She doesn’t even bother to look at the food, keeping her cold gaze on the fire. “I’m afraid I lost my appetite, dear husband. You can thank yourself for that.”

She can feel his eye piercing, burning her skin, the air coming from his nose short and harsh.

“Eat or I’ll feed you myself.”

She doesn’t bother to even answer this time.

Aemond stares at her, waits for her to look at him, he needs for her to look at him. “Is it true?”

“What?”

“That you’re with child.”

“In my husband’s lovely words, I lie around all day so I guess I’m capable enough to notice if I miss my moonblood.”

He leaves the tray on the stone mantelpiece, noticing a pair of chains lying there, and then looks down at her.  “You will stay here with me.” Another order.

Another rejection. “I will not.”

“Yes, you will. You are not going anywhere, not in your condition.”

“I see. Now I’m worth something to you, am I not?” and finally she looks up “My duty is fulfilled, my womb is finally swollen. It’s a shame your witch left, we could have asked her to look in the flames and tell us if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Aemond lowers his shoulders and grabs her chin with the same cruelty he is used to brandish his sword, tightening her cheeks to prevent her from uttering another word. “I said enough.”

He watches as she tries to escape his grip, pushing his shoulders as her eyes grow more and more scornful, and he knows he deserves it. But that ugly thing breaks, snaps like a thin rope pulled too tight.

His mouth is on hers, fingers squeezing her cheeks to force her to take his kiss, which is not really a kiss, but more of an act of war, a relentless and rather quick siege, because she was already starving. She opens his mouth and this alone makes him whine with relief as his tongue slides between her teeth. Her hands grab his doublet collar, knuckles turning white and she angles her head, only to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.

He winces as he pulls his head back and sees her licking her lips, a dead distant look in her eyes. But her hands move, gently, through his silver strands. "My words are but blunt knives on you. I must hurt you in the only way I can."

“I did not touch her.” He says like an oath “Ever.”

“I know you didn’t.” she reassures him, but her eyes stay distant, as if even being this close now, they are also miles and miles apart. “Maybe it would’ve been better if you had.”

“Did you want me to fuck her now?”

“I wanted you to need me, not her.”

His eye is on flame, rage and shame dancing together, but it’s not aimed at her. He finds that the only person on the receiving end is none other than himself.

Something dies in his eye, his shoulders slump and his head falls forward, hiding what no one would dare even think of seeing on the stern, cruel face of Aemond One Eye.

He kneels before her and lays his head on her belly, catching her off guard. She can't see his face, and yet she has it before her eyes, clear and indisputable as something carved into stone.

The surface has never been so frail. She doesn’t even need to scratch it, she only has to lift it.

No man is so accursed as the Kinslayer.

She had thought it true enough, but what about Aemond’s curse?

“I know you feel guilty.” She says, or rather whispers, as if she’s being blasphemous by accosting such a word to such a man. “I know you feel guilty for Jaehaerys. For Helaena.”

His answer is mute, but it’s the loudest confession she could get.

He fists the fabric of her gown between his hands, knuckles turning white on the verge of breaking. She feels him nestling further inside her, like a child, and she closes her eyes for a moment, placing a hand on her wound to stop the bleeding, and leans over him, sliding her hands on his back, softly but firmly, as if helping him to stay whole, as if preventing him from breaking into pieces.

Aemond didn’t believe in curses.

He did not regret, not even for a moment, the murder of Lucerys. He did not care that the Gods had turned their backs on him. They had done it a long time before. He did not care of how people called him, of how they would baptize him in the annals of his lineage.

He had started to care, to feel guilt, after he actually killed his kin.

For he had killed Jaehaerys, he had killed Helaena.

Kinslayer. Kinslayer. Kinslayer.

In his head, he heard that word with his mother’s voice, with Aegon’s, Helaena’s.

He found some kind of peace, of solace, only in his wife. But then the war was calling and he fled to Harrenhal. It was his duty, it was his way to try to make things better, to get revenge. 

He had taken Harrehanl back and he knew he should have come home. But then the witch, the very same who had forced a man to rip out his own tongue, had spoken to him, talking about visions and flames, of predictions that happened to be alarmingly accurate, of him sitting on the Iron Throne with the Conqueror’s Crown on his silver head.

And he saw an opportunity, however blurry, to set things right, as they should have been in the beginning. He saw a way to get the upper hand in this war. And furthermore, as much as he did not realize it, he had found a way to stay away from the Keep. He would rather dare with witchcraft than return home and hear Helaena's wails cutting through doors and walls, and through his heart.

But next to the guilt had come the shame, for he had turned his back on his wife, for he could imagine the filth their enemies and non would spread, like shit flowing in the sewers.

He had tried to confine her to the back of his mind, but she became heavier and heavier as the days passed, along with the scarce letters in which he never mentioned the Rivers bastard.

She, of course, had sensed it immediately.

“You can’t win this war if your mind is elsewhere.” She had said one night, on one of his visits to her room.

He always stayed on the threshold, arms laced behind and poorly disguised distrust stretching his features.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking head.”

“You need not worry, my Prince.” She retorted with a chilling smile “I can’t play with your head. It’s too heavy…and ugly. And this woman…oh, she’s eating you alive.”

The witch is gone now, and yet she is still there.

She lingers on the walls of his chambers like a ghost, she imposes a wall between him and his wife and perhaps neither of them is strong enough to climb it. So, for days they just circle one another like wounded animals.

The Princess is staying with him of course. He has forbidden her to leave his side and she has caved, on one condition though. She has given him three days to deal with the Riverlands and then they will go home, together, where they are needed, where the mighty dreadful Vhagar is needed.

The day before their departure, Aemond returns victorious from the Riverlands. He has gained the allegiance of the lords in a way Visenya Targaryen would be proud of.

He will never forget the Lords' faces draining of color, probably pissing themselves, as Vhagar roared a war chant in the sky, and tongues of fire brushed the lands as warning.

He enters the chambers quietly and sees her crouched on the floor as her hands dig into a drawer, pulling out papers that she carelessly drops to the ground. Aemond closes the door firmly, announcing his presence, and she looks at him for a single moment before sighing in defeat, closing the drawer.

“Looking for my love letters?” he teases, for the first time after days of loud silence.

“I was looking for ink, actually.” she says looking below a paper left on the table. “Besides…love letters from you? Ghastly.” 

He can’t fight back the smirk curling his mouth as she walks close to him and begins removing the armor. He looks at her face and she’s stern, almost rigid in her gestures, in the way she touches him, as if she despises doing it and yet she can’t help herself.

He doesn’t have a clue.

He doesn’t know that her stiffness has nothing to do with contempt. He doesn’t have a clue of how much she aches for him. Of how much she wants for him to take her, fast and rough, as he often used to do, because she can’t stand to be treated like some porcelain doll to be cocooned thanks to his child growing inside her belly. She wants to be more than that, she demands to be his wife again.

“Have you eaten?” he asks her, gently, and she wants to break something.

She can’t stand it anymore. She can’t stand all the questions.

Did you eat? Did you rest? Did you sleep?

“Is this how is going to be from now on?” she asks looking up “You acting as if you are my maid?”

He clenches his jaw and his face turns stern just like hers.

“First you accuse me to have forsaken you and now you don’t want my attention. Make peace with your mind, wife.”

“I want you to be my husband.” She says getting close to him until she smells dragon and ashes.

She wants to bathe in it. “I want to be your wife.”

Aemond’s eye lingers down on her throat, on her constricted chest, and his lips part. “You are.” He vows, locking his eye on her.

“Prove it.” She whispers tilting her head with a challenge dancing on her parted lips, hovering against his.

He is one breath away from swallowing her whole but he stops, melding their breaths in one, and he grins. “Are you going to bite me again?”

“As if you didn’t like that.”

A moment later his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her lip, her neck. His hands are everywhere, frantic and needy. She can feel he’s restraining from holding her too tight, but she wants, no, she needs more. She wants him in her bones.

They move without logic, clinging to each other, trying to assert dominance on one another. He grabs her wrists and forces her down on the chaise beside the hearth. He is looking at her in the same old way, as if he’s blind to anything else. She aches so much for him that she’s breathing hard, the word please climbs her throat, slides on her tongue, but she will not beg for him.

In all truth, she doesn’t have to.

He kneels on the ground like a pious man at the altar, and she hikes up her skirts, spreading her legs to place them on his shoulders, heels pressing on his back to bring him close.

“You know what you want, don’t you?” He teases with a feral grin.

“Curse you and your hideous smirk.” She says sliding on the chair to bring her apex close to his overly talkative mouth.

“You love my smirk.” He says grabbing her thighs to secure them around his face. “Besides, I’m already cursed.” He leaves a red mark biting on the soft skin of her thigh, looking straight at her and how she startles, whining in half pain half pleasure.

She catches a glimpse of the sapphire glinting between her thighs before her eyes fall shut and she moans unnaturally loud as he licks a stripe along her wet folds and up to her apex.

She is trembling with anticipation, with arousal that pools from her, glistening his mouth and nose. Her hips begin bucking against him and he moans contentedly as he buries his tongue inside her, lapping and tasting like a starved beast.

Her breath grows shorter and shorter for how close she is already, so much that he stops to look at her with a spiteful grin. “Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“Shut up.” She whispers hoarsely and pulls herself up just enough to grab his head, pulling his hair to force him to take where he left off. Her hips are rocking on their own against his face, nails scratching his scalp harder and harder as she comes undone in his mouth, while he hums with pleasure, drinking of all her. Eye fixed on her as he watches her throw her head back, spasming and trembling with a loud moan.

Her back hits the back of the chaise as she catches her breath and looks at the black ceiling in a moment of pure bliss. Two moons of anguish are but a distant memory, her mind is foggy, she doesn’t even remember the face of the witch.

He dismantles her legs from his neck and she looks down at him, cheeks red, watching as he climbs on her, unbuckling his belt.

“No.” she says, and she stops his hands. “Do you think I would make it so easy for you?”

Aemond looks at her, half puzzled half curious, and then she pushes him down, overturning their positions so now she’s sitting on his lap, feeling all of his hard length against her.

“It’s my turn to prove it.” She says raising an arm that goes on the mantelpiece behind them.

“Prove what?”

“That you’re my mine.” She promises, and Aemond hears the distinct sound of metal clinking.

She lowers her arm and he sees a pair of chains between her fingers. He is bold enough to smirk at her. “I thought you were the one who wished to be chained.”

“I’m not the one in need of a lesson.”

She grabs his wrist but he easily pulls away. “What if I don’t want to?” but there’s an intriguing glint in his eye, on the edges of his arched mouth.

“Then who will take care of you?” she asks with fake innocence, grinding on his cock, and she smiles as the air comes out of his mouth in a hiss. “Are you sure your hand will suffice?”

He looks at her with challenge, breathing slowly through his mouth, and he caves.

“Chain me.”

She smiles darkly and grabs his wrists, fastening the chains and then locking them to the sides of the chair. She stands and grabs his legs, sliding his back further down.

She notices his eyebrow rising and she looks at him. "I want you to be comfortable. I'm afraid this will not end so soon."

He swallows with anticipation and watches her as she slowly climbs back on top of him and begins to unbutton his doublet., pushing the fabric aside to reveal his diaphanous pale chest and her hand slides over it, over his ribs, stomach, and navel, halting his breath.

Her lips hover against his, swallowing his shallow breath, but suddenly her head dips down, leaving a trail of little heated kisses on his neck, on the planes of his chest.

He watches as she does that, feeling her lips like burning embers marking his skin. Her eyes lock on him and she opens her mouth engulfing one of his nipples, circling her tongue around it. He tilts his head back, lips parting to let a puff of scorching air out, and then she's grazing her teeth over the soft pink skin.

The chains metal clink as he winces.

She grins pulling herself up and slides a bit down his legs with her bottom, so she has open room to his belt. She begins unbuckling it, looking at him, watching the glare he’s giving her.

“I can’t tell whether you want to kill me or fuck me.”

“I need you to fucking do something.”

“Like what?” she asks, palming his cock through the fabric “Tell me, husband. I may grant your wish.”

He rocks his hips in one slow movement, trying to feel every inch of her hand, but it’s a faint touch that only makes him ache for more. “Move, grind on me.” His voice is imperative as always, but his tone is different—all heated and husky.

She frees him of the constricting belt and breeches and lays on him, releasing a blissful sigh when she feels the hot hard flesh colliding perfectly against her core. The chains clink again as he tries to move and she smiles, caging his snatched waist between her legs.

Aemond is panting quietly, trying to get a grip on his own body but he finds it’s a useless fight when he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt.

But then his wife seems in favour of granting him some mercy. She starts grinding on him and his lips part some more, panting loudly this time, as he feels, and hears, the beautiful obscene sounds her wet flesh is making rubbing on him.

“Lift up your skirts. Let me see.”

She stops grinding and he almost whines with annoyance, moving his chained wrists in a useless attempt to grab her waist and force her to move again.

“I don’t like that tone, husband.” She says, and her voice is husky as well, her breath labored “Ask nicely.”

Aemond is silently starting to regret this whole thing. Patience was never one of his virtues, if he even has virtues. He’s completely at her mercy and cannot do anything but comply.

“Please. Lift your fucking skirts and let me see.”

“Hmm.” She hums smiling. “Better.”

Her skirts turn into a bundle of fabric around her waist and he dips his chin, looking straight at their flesh as she resumes her torture.

“Fuck” he utters, his eye growing heavy but he keeps looking, and he doesn’t have a clue whether it’s the rubbing or the mere sight of her coating his cock that draws a moan out of his throat.

“Do you see how I much I’ve missed you?” she asks hoarsely, grinding more and more firmly.

His head hits the back of the chair as he keeps panting and rocking his hips against her, lifting his waist as if desperately trying to slide inside her.

“I touched myself every morning. I woke up all wet and aching for you. And where were you? Here, plotting with your witch.”

“Enough of that fucking witch.” he croaks, a sheen of sweat is ghosting on his forehead. “Faster.”

She does the opposite. She stops altogether. And this time, he can’t do nothing to muffle the whimper gushing out of his trembling mouth.

The Princess tilts her head, savoring each moment, and soon his piercing glare comes back even sharper. “Once I’m free of these fucking chains, I’m going to fuck you senseless till morning.”

“Unless you are still chained to this chair in the morning.”

He watches as her hands hover on his thighs, a feather touch that drives him mad, that makes his hips buck uselessly. His lips twist, swallowing a plead his pride won’t allow him to let go.

But she hears it nonetheless, in the way his fingers flex and twist, in his chest raising fastly. It may suffice, but it doesn’t.

“Stubborn, are we?” she teases, just like her hands, barely touching down his navel. “Your witch got it right. She said you are too stubborn, that’s why she couldn’t play with your head. She couldn’t handle you.” her fingertips finally dip down and she can see the silent plead in his eye.

“I can, though.” her palm brushes the tip and he whimpers, again.

“Please…” he whispers impossibly low, too low for her liking.

“Louder, my love.”

His mouth twists again but the need, the ache is so heavy that it burns out all the pride numbing his tongue. 

“Please…” he begs freely “Please, touch me.”

A groan rolls out of him as she finally grabs it, squeezing softly before starting a slow rhythm up and down. He pants loudly, hips moving on their own as he tries to fuck her hand with a steadier pace. “Don’t rush it.” she scolds him, placing a firm hand on his waist to stop his frantic movements.

“I can’t take it…let me come…”

“Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“You’re cursed, woman.”

“Takes one to know one. A curse for a curse.”

She looks at him, hair all ruffled and sweaty on his forehead, a painful pleading expression twisting his sharp features and she smiles victorious. “I have half a mind to leave you like this.” She says and for a moment, he dreads she’s being serious.

“Luckily for you, I’m just as greedy as you are.”

In a swift moment she nestles between his legs and he’s moaning loudly before he even has time to register anything, except her lips locking around his tip, sucking so harshly he thinks she’s going to utterly drain him.

She starts a steady pace, just as he likes it, taking all of him, down to the base untili it hits the back of her throat. The chains clink and clink against the chair as he twists his wrists, bucking his hips harshly to fuck her mouth as deeper as he can, enthralled by the lewd sounds she’s making.

“Gods, yes…” he moans watching carefully as he slips in and out of her “Yes…just like that, just a little more…”

She feels him tense inside her mouth, she feels him tense all over and she knows he’s dangerously close. She stops for a moment, licking her lips and looks at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break the rule.”

Aemond groans with frustration, not having the faintest idea of what she’s talking about. He isn’t even sure he remembers his own name. He is just blood boiling and bones so tense they’re close to snap.

“What was it again?” she asks “Ah, yes. My seed belongs in your cunt.” She leaves a trail of soft kisses on his hard flesh and he whimpers once more. “My ever-romantic husband.”

“Fuck the rule, you’re driving me mad. Let me come.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please.” He begs “Please let me come in your mouth.”

The Princess is merciful enough to grant his wish. She engulfs him once more and he moans loudly for how sensitive he is. She picks up the pace and pride washes over her, pooling between her legs, as she sees him writhing beneath her, moaning with his mouth open, eye closed shut and the chains clink like a frantic bell while he twists his scratched red wrists.

He curses and mumbles nonsense under his breath until he stills completely letting out a long and loud grunt, spilling abundantly inside her mouth. She swallows to the last drop, gently sucking the pulsing tip.

The chains are finally still and silent. He’s breathing hard and short with his head thrown back, staring at the ceiling without seeing anything.

That is until he winces, feeling her hand on his sensitive skin. He raises his head to look at her, almost puzzled. She smiles slyly, moving her hand up and down. “Did you think it was over?”

If he did not feel so spent, he would be utterly thrilled and definitely flattered.

“Seven Hells, woman, give me a bre—” words die on his tongue wiped out by a hoarse gasp as she takes him in her mouth again. But this time, she sucks so slowly that Aemond actually whines in pain. And she looks straight at him, while her head bobs, relishing every moment, watching as he comes undone beneath her, babbling pleads, begging her to stop and a moment later to keep going. His voice is breaking, cracking as he whines and whimpers, poised between pain and pleasure.

Soon though, she hears more whines of pleasure than pain, as gets harder and harder in the hot haven of her mouth.

Suddenly she stops, and just stares, savoring the sight before her. The cruel Aemond One Eye, chained to a chair in a mess of sweat and sobs.

“Untie me…” he says, trying to make it sound like an order, but it’s a pale imitation of his usual tone. His words are slow, sluggish.

“You are not in charge here, my love.”

“Then quit the act and fuck me.”

Perhaps, if she wasn’t so equally desperate for him, if she wasn’t leaking between her thighs, she would have prolonged this torture, this excruciatingly sweet punishment. But she can’t take it anymore.

She climbs on him, and it takes her the least effort to let him slide inside her. He slips his back further down that chaise so that his hips are angled just enough to thrust into her, fast and steady.

“Oh Gods—yes!” she moans throwing her head back, frantically bouncing on him.

“D’you miss this?” he rasps, with a tinge of his usual infuriating confidence “Did you think of this when you touched yourself? Missed my cock inside you, hmm?”

She clamps a hand on his mouth to shush him and he bites her palm, thrusting even harder, making her whine loudly until her throat goes dry and her sight go white. They fall in a wild frenzy, utterly intoxicated with each other, leaving bites and marks all over, sealing one inside the other with a curse much more dangerous than any kind of witchcraft.  

They come together, as she clutches his head to her chest so tight that he can barely breathe. He rests his head on the chair, slowly catching his breath, and she nestles against him, still sank on him.

He moves his hands to touch her, wincing for his aching wrists.

“Untie me now, would you?” he asks softly on the crown of her head.

“I’m not sure.” She muses against his chest. “I’ve quite enjoyed having you at my mercy.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

She moves her head to look at him, a little smile starting to light up her face and he looks down at her lips, mirroring her.

“Besides, it’s your turn.”

She raises her eyebrows fighting back a smile. “Now?”

“Haven’t you heard? No man is so accursed as me.”  

#a curse for a curse #liv (in la vida loca) #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x wife reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond smut #hotd fic #house of the dragon #aemond one eye

[vanteguccir]

Love in the lunchbox | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where it's part of Matt's routine to prepare breakfast and pack his girlfriend's lunchbox every day.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by @sturniozoey

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: This tiktok inspired me to write it 🩷

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Sunlight began to filter through the half-open curtains, painting the room in soft shades of gold.

The sound of Y/N's phone alarm echoed abruptly, interrupting the silence of the morning, waking Matt who, with a sleepy sigh and eyes still closed, stretched his arm over his girl's body to turn off the device that rested on the bedside table.

His blue eyes slowly opened, finding Y/N's serene face beside him, lightly crumpled by the pillow and with strands of hair over her forehead and cheeks.

With a gentle smile, he leaned forward, brushing the strands out of the way before placing soft kisses on the soft skin of her face, spreading them across every visible space. Each touch was full of affection, as if he wanted to express all the love he felt for her in those small gestures.

His slightly dry lips from sleep finally found hers, sealing a sweet kiss over her numb ones, his beard tickling her chin slightly.

Y/N mumbled something indistinctly, still half asleep, ignoring his attempts to wake her up and just snuggling closer, sinking into the soft sheets and his warm chest. She didn't want to leave that moment, that comforting hug, but she knew she needed to start the day, or she would be late for work.

Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away from Matt and stretched, feeling completely enveloped by the feeling of warmth and security he provided. The girl slowly got up, hearing Matt's low laugh - who was watching her with loving eyes - still feeling the echoes of drowsiness, walking towards the bathroom.

While Y/N enjoyed the invigorating shower, Matt stealthily headed to the kitchen, determined to go through the motions of his daily routine and prepare his girl's breakfast. With eyes still tired from sleep, he began to gather the necessary ingredients, listening to the low sounds coming from Nick's room, who had probably woken up earlier than them - if he had even slept.

Waffles were Matt's specialty, and he knew exactly how to make Y/N's favorites. Skillfully, he mixed the dough until it reached the right consistency, adding an extra dash of vanilla. When it was ready, he placed it in the toaster, ensuring they would become golden and crispy.

While they cooked, Matt carefully cut a papaya into separate slices, arranging them on a plate with a sprinkle of oat flakes and honey on top, in the exact way his girlfriend ate it every morning. Next to it, a bowl of fresh berries waited to be added.

While the delicious aroma of waffles filled the kitchen, Matt prepared the typical black coffee, adding to the scent that surrounded the room.

When everything was ready, the boy delicately organized the breakfast on the wooden table, arranging the waffles with the berries on top above the pink plate with small heart designs, the papaya next with a spoon and a Harry Potter mug with steaming coffee.

With breakfast ready, Matt dedicated himself to preparing Y/N's lunch.

He knew that she worked incessantly at the office and that, despite having an hour's lunch break, she almost never managed to complete that time - always needing to return to her desk as soon as possible, which often resulted in her not being able to eat properly, or because of the type of food or whether she needed to buy it from a restaurant.

That's the reason why, when Matt discovered this situation a little over a year ago, he started to include the task of cooking Y/N's lunches everyday, and preparing her bag to take to work.

It's easy to say that his love language was acts of service.

Matt opened the fridge and took out some of the food previously prepared the night before - rice and seasoned broccoli, before taking out the raw steak, which he would fry at that moment, choosing a healthy and nutritious dish that he knew was her favorite and simple type.

"Good morning." Nick's voice sounded behind him, the oldest triplet opting to lie down on the couch while he waited for Matt to vacate the kitchen, as he did every day.

"Morning." Matt replied in a low tone, keeping his focus on his main task, not noticing his brother slowly falling asleep while hearing him using the many utensils.

He took a frying pan from the cupboard under the sink, placing it on the stove and pouring in a small amount of olive oil, waiting a few seconds for the ceramic surface to heat up enough for him to place the beef steak, turning it slightly and once in a while, making sure it was medium cooked.

Carefully, he divided the whole meal into individual portions and placed them in vacuum-sealed containers that could be reheated in the microwave hours later, ensuring that each one remained fresh and flavorful.

Before closing Y/N's small cooler bag, Matt took a sheet of pink post-it from one of the drawers on the counter, fishing out a black pen and writing a cute little message, expressing all his love and wishes for her to have a great day, before drawing a little heart. He placed the note on top of the containers, knowing it would be the first thing Y/N would see when she opened the bag.

With everything ready, Matt placed it next to the top of the stairs that led to the front door of the house, making sure Y/N didn't forget it.

With her work clothes already on and her hair still damp, Y/N walked out of the room she shared with Matt, feeling refreshed after her morning shower. Her light footsteps echoed down the small hallway until she reached the kitchen, where she found Matt leaning on the counter, busy washing the dishes he had used to prepare her breakfast and lunch, her eyes finding momentarily Nick asleep on the couch, letting out a nasal laugh.

A warm smile lit up Y/N's face as she approached her boyfriend, enveloping him in a hug from behind, her arms encircling his bare torso, caressing the exposed skin of his belly. She rested her face on Matt's shoulder, breathing in the natural scent of his post-sleep skin.

"Thank you for taking care of me, pretty boy." Y/N whispered, planting soft kisses along his right shoulder, up to his neck. Y/N's lips left small lipstick marks along the way, making Matt blush slightly, and a silly smile formed on his face, his blue eyes shining with love.

"All for you, petal." Matt replied, turning to look at her tenderly. Their eyes met, overflowing with love and mutual admiration.

Y/N pulled away slightly so Matt could finish washing the dishes - not before kissing his lips for long seconds, finally sitting down at the table to eat the breakfast he had prepared.

As she enjoyed the waffles and coffee, they chatted idly about Y/N's company gossip and Matt's plans for that week's videos, enjoying each other's company.

Time seemed to pass faster in Matt's presence, and soon, it was time for Y/N to go to work.

"Thank you for the breakfast and lunch, honey. I love you." Y/N said goodbye with a tender kiss on her boy's lips.

"I love you more. Keep me on your mind."

"Always, babe." Y/N affirmed, promising to think about him throughout the day.

With a heart full of love and gratitude, she walked out the door with her bag in hands, ready to face another day of work, knowing that she would have Matt waiting for her when she got home.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My requests are open! Please read my rules before sending anything ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @iammattswife @strnilolo

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #x reader #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #matt au #matt fanfic #matty #matt #matt sturniolo x reader fluff #matt sturniolo x yn #fluff #cute #act of service

[alltoowelltom]

What about fluffy morning routines with Oscar, like being all domestic and cute together!

thank you for requesting x

The third time the alarm goes off you've had enough.

Oscar is the sweetest boyfriend with almost no obnoxious habits - almost. The one quirk of his you absolutely cannot stand? The sheer number of times he will snooze his alarm in the morning and fall back to sleep.

'Why don't you just set it for later?' you've asked him countless times before. He always answered with a shrug, 'No, tomorrow I am going to get up first time it rings.'

"Oz." you hum sleepily, one arm coming up to push gently on his back. "Turn it off."

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, reaching over to his nightstand to grab his phone and switch off the sound.

"Sorry, love." he says, rolling over so he's laying on his side to face you, dropping his phone in the sheets. He pulls you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. He wouldn't admit it, but this moment right here is always his favorite part of the day. Just the two of you basking in each other's presence before the day begins.

"You're gonna fall asleep again." you say, prodding his chest gently.

Oscar grumbles into your hair, hand swatting around the sheets blindly for his phone. You pick it up, placing it in his hand. Both of you wince at the harsh light in the darkened room and he turns it off again as soon as he's seen the time.

"Shit, I'm late for training."

"Yeah, wonder how that happened?" you sass back, kissing his chest.

"D'you want to come with?" He asks, tracing the freckles on your arm. You shiver at the feeling of his nails that are slightly too long again, knowing you'll need to nag him about cutting them this afternoon.

"No," you giggle. "I'm gonna stay here and go back to sleep until you're back."

"Lucky thing," Oscar sighs, sitting up in bed. "I love you." He presses a kiss to your head as you repeat his words back.

Oscar's quiet as he gets dressed and brushes his teeth, clearly making an effort not to disrupt your sleep any more than he already has. You think he's left and let yourself drift back to sleep until you hear his trainers scuffing the hallway floor and he pops back into the bedroom.

"One last kiss." He giggles cheekily, giving you two on your cheek and picking up his phone from where it laid next to his pillow. You smile softly, in-and-out of sleep but you manage to squeeze his hand and hope that says enough.

By the time Oscar comes back from training you've gotten out of bed and showered.

"Awh, what?" Oscar pouts. "At least come sit with me while I get ready?"

With anyone else, you'd scoff at their clinginess but you can't help but melt at him. It had taken Oscar a little while to open up to you and become truly comfortable when you'd begun dating. He could be a little shy and tried to ensure he was independent and not needy at first, worried about scaring you off. Now, you sit on the bathroom counter, putting on some light makeup while he showers and tells you about his current training routine.

"Oh, and I got you one of those apple danishes on my way back," he calls out from behind the glass. "It's just in the kitchen."

"Hmm," you chuckle at his sweetness. "A pastry from Pastry."

When Oscar's out the shower and dressed you hand him your necklace silently and he positions himself behind you, carefully doing up the clasp the way he did every morning you were together - to the point where you'd begun to struggle latching the chain together on your own, having to twist it to the front so you could see what you were doing.

"All good?" He asks, trying to smooth your hair back into place.

"Yeah, thank you honey." you say, giving him a smile in the mirror. He returns it with a big Oscar-smile, the one with lots of teeth and crinkles by his eyes.

"Help me make the bed?" you ask, knowing Oscar would leave it a mess if you didn't remind him.

"We're just gonna get into it again tonight and make it messy again," he'd tried to reason in the past. "Why wouldn't we just save the effort and leave it?"

You each take a side of the duvet, pulling it up and fluffing the pillows, Oscar following your lead on the correct technique.

"If you bought less pillows, this would be so much quicker." He grumbles with a grin, tossing one of the many throw pillows at you gently. "I'm your pillow anyway, you don't use one of these."

"It's to make the room look pretty." you roll your eyes. Boys.

"The room already looks the prettiest, because you're in it." Oscar says sweetly, crawling over the bed and reaching out to you. Your heart swells at his (cheesy) words and you let him pull you down onto the bed.

"Let's nap for a bit, yeah?" He says softly, nuzzling into your neck. "See if you're a good pillow too."

thank you for reading x

#oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri smau #mclaren f1 #formula 1 x y/n #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

[agirlcandream84]

Neighbor!Frank is a MAJOR Daddy When When You Come Home Drunk (part 2)

This is the much-requested second part of this and when I tell you that this is literally my favorite thing that I've written, I ain't kiddin'. Like this is pure protector, daddy, comfort, HOT, sdjfnsdkjnfdsklj.

Neighbor!Frank x {drunk}Reader

Word Count: 1320 (6 min read)

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

Uh oh, you were definitely gonna throw up.

"Use the bucket sweetheart," Frank shouts from the kitchen where he's preparing you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Had you said that out loud?

"Yes," responds back, setting the peanut butter and jelly in front of you and handing you the bucket he had placed there after plopping you on his couch five minutes ago.

And so you do, throwing up in a bucket in Frank's living room, him expertly gathering back your hair and ready with a napkin to clean your face.

"Sorry," you mumble, tears in your eyes (throwing up always made you cry for some reason). Frank dabs gently at your chin while his eyes find yours, those tiny crinkles forming in the corner when he smiles just a bit.

"Eh it's alright doll, seen a lot worse," he responds, standing to flush the contents of the bucket down the toilet.

He walks back into the living room and reaches to gently lift and guide you by the shoulders, eventually looping an arm around your waist. He starts walking you down his hall when you ask "where we goin'? I liked the couch."

"I bet you did but you got some on your pretty dress there so we gotta get ya' cleaned up sweetheart," he replies, guiding you to his bedroom where he seats you on his bed and rummages through his dresser to fish out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

He places them on the bed beside you and lands his hands on his hips, assessing your inebriation with squinted eyes before asking "You alright to get yourself changed honey?"

Your eyes are heavy-lidded and now The Tiredness™️ has set in but you give Frank a slow nod and a thumbs up. He waits a beat to ensure you are, in fact, capable and you use the moment to slump sideways on Frank's warm bed and close your eyes with a smile.

"Sweetheart," he gently nudges.

"Ssshhhhhhh," you tell him, your finger landing on your pursed lips like a librarian.

"Ok, come on honey, up up. Can't sleep in that dress," he says while his hands scoop into the pit of your arms and he sits you upright. Your head lolls forward while you let out a indecipherable whine.

"Need you to look at me doll" he says, his hands on either side of your face while he squats low in front of the bed so he's eye-level with you. You will your eyes to open and concentrate on Frank's molten brown ones with every ounce of concentration you have. You take a moment to boop Frank's broad nose while he's inches in front of your face.

Stifling a laugh he explains, "I'm gonna help, alright, but ya' gotta listen." You again give him an understanding nod as you feel him put his hands on your hips and gently tug you to a standing position. "Alright, arms up honey," he instructs you. You comply and feel Frank gently grab the fabric of your dress skimming your thighs to shimmy it up your body, past your shoulders, and slowly over your head. His fingers are respectful but the tips tickle the underside of your arms and you jolt your arm down at the sensation.

"Eh eh, arms up," he reminds you again before finishing the task. Even intoxicated you can sense Frank's respectful restraint, his eyes never landing long on any one spot of your body and instead almost always on your face, a small smile at his lips. Standing before him in your bra and underwear, Frank reaches past you for the pants folded on the bed.

"Hands on my shoulders sweetheart," he murmurs a little quieter this time, squatting low in front of you, arms outstretched with the pants. And again you comply, your hands landing on the broad, warm expanse of his shoulders, feeling the shift of his taut muscles beneath your palms as you steady yourself. He holds the pants out just in front of you and you know to step in, the way a five year might when getting dressed with a parent. He tugs the pants up your body, his hands running the length of your silhouette before the pants land on the curve of your hips. He tugs the drawstrings to tie a quick knot, his deft fingers tickling the skin of your stomach before he lets his hands land briefly on your hips.

"Doin' ok?" he rumbles, and suddenly the air in the room is warm and all you hear is your own breathing. You nod in confirmation, afraid if you speak the moment will evaporate into a poof of air.

He takes the T-shirt from the bed and his hands find the hole for the head as he tugs it over your head, his hands guiding each arm into the holes of the shirt. The rest of the shirt pools over your body, landing nearly at mid-thigh. His hands find your face again, gently brushing the hair out of your eyes.

"All better sweetheart?" he asks with his brows furrowed, like the clothes were a balm to a wound and he was a paramedic. Again you nod, your eyes locked to his in a way that felt critical to keep breathing.

"M'gonna get you a glass of water ok? Want you to drink some before bed," he says, his eyes boring into yours over his low brows, awaiting a confirmation from you. You offer a meek "ok," before he walks out of the room and you still find it spinning in front of you.

While Frank putters in the kitchen you fumble to reach the clasp of your bra, desperate for the unmatched comfort of removing it before you plan to faceplant in Frank's bed. You find the clasp impossible to navigate in your current state, your fingers uncooperative as sleep claimed to take you entirely.

Frank returns and places the water on the small bedside table before turning to you, confusion crossing his face at your hunched position, arms wound behind your back. "you alright honey?" he says gently, rounding his way to you.

"Um.. can you... sorry," you mumble, sleep so fucking close, so desperate to just get in the fucking bed. "Nevermind," you mumble, exasperated and ready to melt into the bed, bra or not.

"Uh, yeah, c'mere honey," he offers, sheepishness barely detectible in his tone as he steps behind you. His fingers are barely a whisper on your back as his hands slip up into the T-shirt and deftly unclasp your bra. He tugs the item gently down the length of your arms, his wrist just grazing the side of your breast as you let out a small huff of air from your lungs. With the bra off, he gently tugs the T-shirt back down your from and runs a smooth hand down your back. "That better?" he asks, his voice barely audible, like rocks tumbling, as he turns you to find your eyes again.

You nod and offer a "thank you," more air than sound. He waits a beat, looking you over once to make sure he didn't overstep and when he knows you're ok he says, "Alright, let's get you in bed."

You dutifully climb into the bed and collapse onto the pillow, inhaling deeply and smelling laundry detergent and "Frank." You let out a small mmmmm before your eyes close of their own accord. Frank flips off the lights and rustles on the ground below, arranging a makeshift bed on the ground beside you, staying close by in case you were sick in the night.

You muster just enough remaining energy to open one eye, your face smashed into his pillow, and mumble "not the floor, please Frankie." Your eyes close and the last thing you hear is "I'm here sweetheart," as the bed dips beside you and sleep takes you completely.

#frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfic #frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

[prythianpages]

When I Kissed the Teacher | Cassian

summary: After shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

warnings: fluff, some suggestiveness/reader thirsting for Cas bc who wouldn't??

a/n: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea so big shoutout to her! Though I did a poll and Az won (you can find his version here), I decided to also write a version for Cas as a huge thank you for following me! I just reached 1k ♥ For the sake of this fic, Nesta and Cas are just good friends.

This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:

Cassian strolls along the hallway, a carefree whistle coming from his lips. A towel is draped casually over his shoulder, barely doing anything to cover his well-defined upper half. A satisfying workout has left his muscles pleasantly fatigued and a content smile on his face. He usually trains in the morning but unfortunately, he had to rearrange his schedule to accompany Azriel on trip to Windhaven.

A creaking sound halts his steps and he turns his head to find you, his favorite trainee, struggling to open the door that leads to the infamous ten-thousand steps. Cassian watches you struggle for a moment longer, suppressing a laugh at the way you huff out in exasperation, allowing your forehead to fall against the door in defeat.

“What are you doing?”

Your head whips around in response, a dizzying blur causing a momentary loss of balance. As your entire weight leans against the door, it finally yields with a creak. Both the house and Cassian spring to action. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, slamming the door shut and sending you stumbling forward instead.

Cassian catches you in his arms, one hand securing the small of your back while the other cradles the back of your head. Seemingly unfazed by the dangerous fate you almost, quite literally, threw yourself into, you appear nonchalant as you pull back slightly.

"I'm going out.”

As you speak, Cassian catches the subtle scent of ripe red berries coming from your breath. He recognizes it as Mor’s favorite wine. His hazel eyes graze over your body, taking in your thin cami top and shorts with heart patterns that match the hearts on the fluffy slippers you wear.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, his voice warm with amusement.

You don’t answer him, seemingly distracted by his bare chest. A thin line of sweat makes the black ink of his tattoos glisten, enticing you to lean in and have a taste. If you had drank a bit more, perhaps, you would’ve. But for now, you're content to place your hands on his chest instead, heart fluttering at the sensation of the hard muscle beneath. 

“Mmm, you’re absolutely delicious. Has anyone told you, you should be shirtless more often?”

Cassian chuckles. He’s caught you staring at him during training, often flexing his muscles on purpose for you to give you a better show. And it’s no secret that he finds you attractive too, especially after you coaxed it out of him one morning.

“Get off that pretty ass of yours and give me fifty.”

Your mouth falls open but it’s not the fifty push ups you’re gasping over. “You think I’m pretty?”

His gaze lowers, trailing down your body appreciatively before lifting back up to meet your eyes again. His lips twitch upwards and there’s a sparkle in his hazel depths. “I think you’re many things, sweetheart. Doesn’t keep you from giving me fifty. On the floor. Now.”

Flirting is common between you two but even then, there’s no way you’d say those words sober to him. “Yup, you’re drunk,” Cassian says. He makes a mental note to chide Mor the next morning for letting you out of her sight.

“And you’re Cassian. My favorite teacher.” You grin lazily at him, a finger grazing a path over to where his heart beats. Your touch creates a ripple of warmth, prompting his heart to lurch forward, craving for more of it. 

Get it together, he thinks as he reminds himself that you’re drunk.

“Mr. Cassian. My Mr. Cassian. My Cassian.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks at your slur of words and he doesn’t care if you don’t mean those words the way he’d like you to. You probably won’t even remember tonight and it’s this thought that gives him the courage to reciprocate. His fingers grip your chin lightly, thumb sweeping over your cheek in a tender caress.

“Your Cassian,” he affirms gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. If only you knew how much he adored you... 

Hearts take shape in your eyes, softening your gaze.  You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your drunken embrace. Cassian responds, his hands securing beneath your knees, effortlessly lifting you. A playful giggle escapes you, only to be hushed when you notice him carrying you away from the door.

“No, Cas,” you shake your head at him. Attempting to squirm away, you insistently gesture back towards the door. Yet, his arms around you tighten, holding you in place. “We’re going the wrong way! Rita’s is that way!”

“We’re going to bed.”

Your squirming stops and you draw back, looking up at him with a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes. “We are?”

“You–you’re going to bed. Your own bed, where you will sleep…alone,” Cassian finds himself stammering as he avoids your gaze.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you reply and he can hear the frown in your voice. “I want to be with you.”

“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian curses, quickening his steps. The faster he can get you to your room, the better.

When Cassian finally reaches your room, he thanks the house for opening the door for him. Your silence prompts him to assume you’ve fallen asleep. As he carries you to your bed, his eyes wander around your room, taking in the small details. His heart swells with warmth when he catches a glimpse of the book he had given you over training methods–his favorite book–sitting on your nightstand.

Cassian pulls the covers off your bed and feels you stir in his hold, arms and legs tightening around him as if you could sense his impending departure. He literally has to pry your grip off of him so he can lay you down on your bed. He tucks you in with such tenderness that it sobers you up for just a moment, eyes blinking open. “Can’t you stay?”

The pout you give him is endearing and tugs at his heartstrings.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“But–”

He brushes your hair back with a soft expression on his face that would’ve had you melting, if you weren’t upset by his rejection. 

"Not when you’re like this.”

“But…,” you begin again. A pleading look fills your eyes and there’s a subtle wobble of your lips. “What if I tell you I love you?”

Cassian pauses. His eyes study your face in contemplation. He would love nothing more than to slip under the covers with you but he remains firm in his resolve. So with a soft pat to your head, he says, “tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

**

“Tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart,” you mock Cassian’s voice with a scowl the next morning. Contrary to Cassian’s belief, you remembered everything. “Ugh! He might’ve well just told me he hates me!”

“Or maybe, I don’t know, hear me out,” Nesta begins, raising her hands before you could interrupt. She sits across from you on your bed, already dressed in her training leathers. “He wants you to confess to him when you’re sober.”

Emerie, who leans against your desk, giggles at the look on your face. “Don’t be rational, Nesta,” she says in a teasing tone. “He totally hates her.”

The door to your room creaks open and Gywn steps in with a slight frown. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for our morning session,” she then looks at you, her frown deepening when she takes note of your disheveled state. “Y/n, what are you still doing in your pajamas?”

 “I’m not going today. Tell them I’m hungover,” you tell her with a grimace, pretending to be sick. Nesta rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I think I’m going to throw up. You should go before I do.”

Gwyn glances toward Emerie, who had also been drinking with you and Mor last night. She then turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Emerie seems just fine to me.”

Emerie shrinks back with a small blush. The two of you exchange a look. Yes, you had been drinking with Mor and Emerie last night. But you had done most of the drinking while your friend snuck off with the pretty blonde.

“Leave her be,” Emerie says as she stands up straight, covering for you the same way you had for her.  “I’m sure Cas will understand, given the state he found her in last night.”

“What? Don’t tell me you confessed your feelings while drunk,” Gwyn says with an amused giggle. As the silence stretches, her eyes widen, head turning to you. You're quick to avoid her gaze, prompting her to remark, "No wonder he's blushing like a fool today."

That makes your head perk up almost immediately, eyes finding hers only to see the playful glint in her eyes. Nesta and Emerie laugh while you fling one of your pillows at Gwyn. She catches it with ease and throws it back at you. Surrendering to the inevitable teasing, you let the pillow hit you, collapsing onto the comforting expanse of your bed, hoping the blankets might swallow you whole.

“Can you all just leave me be?” You groan. “I’d like to wallow in my own embarrassment alone.”

"Fine," Nesta sighs, patting your leg as she hops off your bed. "But don't think about skipping tomorrow's training!”

**

The next morning dawns, and you find yourself unable to face training, still grappling with the aftermath of your drunken confession to Cassian. Out of all the fish in the sea of Velaris, your heart chose to hyperfixate on him. Your teacher. 

As night falls, you're contemplating skipping training again. It's only another day, and with Friday approaching, the weekend promises a much-needed break. This extra time might be just what you need to gather the courage to face him once more.

Turning in for the night, you cast a glance towards your nightstand. There, beside the book Cassian lent you, sits an untouched hangover tonic. It appeared the morning after your first skipped training session. When you thanked your friends, they had only looked back at you in confusion. You didn’t have to guess who left it there for you after that.

With a sigh, you close your eyes. One of these days, you'll tell him you dream of him every night. Until then, you savor the bittersweet anticipation and allow sleep to pull you into its embrace.

In the sweet haven of your dream, you and Cassian stroll through the center of Velaris as the city shimmers around you. Cassian laughs, the sound echoing like a sweet melody. The two of you then find yourselves in a meadow bathed in moonlight. A sea of luminescent flowers surround you and as the wind blows around you softly, Cassian sneezes. It’s your turn to laugh then.

Cassian rolls his eyes at you and then reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He pulls you into a dance with a smile that fills your heart with warmth and–

Your body stirs at the sudden loss of warmth and the soft smile that was on your lips morphs into a frown. Something seizes your ankles, yanking you down the bed. With a sudden jolt, your eyes fly open, and a scream escapes your throat. It takes a moment to recgonize the hazel eyes glaring down at you.

“I hope that dream of yours was beautiful because you’re about to have a nightmare of a training session,” Cassian huffs but there’s a teasing to his tone. “Come on, get up.”

Staring up at him in surprise, your heart flutters, still entangled in the remnants of the dream. Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Cassian leans forward and effortlessly picks you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. The trance shatters, and you protest, kicking and punching.

"Hey! Let me go!" you exclaim, your resistance met with Cassian's apparent indifference as he heads towards the door.

"At least let me freshen up and change!" you plea in exasperation. "You can't expect me to train in my pajamas!"

Cassian rolls his eyes because if you had woken up early like usual, you would’ve had more than enough time to change into something more comfortable for training. He doesn’t care. He just needs you to be there. On time.

“I’ll catch a cold or freeze to death on the rooftop!”

He pauses, his wings shuddering at the thought. While he doesn’t care about what you wear,  he does care about you. Setting you down, Cassian regards you with a stern expression, though his stomach flutters. He hadn’t seen you since that night.

“You have 5 minutes.”

Cassian watches as you spring into action, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you run toward your bathroom. He bites back the urge to laugh. He’d never seen you run so fast.

**

Cassian was not exaggerating when he said you were in for a nightmare of a training session. Much to your dismay, your friends were all under Azriel’s instruction for the morning, allowing Cassian’s attention to solely focus on you. Something you normally would’ve swooned over but given your current tension…

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You let out a huff and lower your sword, dragging the pointy edge along the gravel. A scowl taints your features. “I need a break.”

Cassian shakes his head at you. “Not until you get this move right.”

He moves to stand behind you, placing his hands at your waist. Suddenly, you're thankful for the vigorous activity Cassian pushed you into. It allows you to put full blame for your heavy breathing on the demanding training and not on the way Cassian’s warm breath tickles your ears as he instructs you on how to properly position yourself.

“Like this,” he tells you, using a knee to prod your legs further apart.

Your knees wobble and once again, you blame it on your exhausted muscles. Cassian chuckles, the hands on your waist helping hold you steady. “Are you drunk, y/n?” He teases.

You turn your head to glare at him. “I’m sober.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

You toss your sword aside, freeing yourself from his hold, and spin around to face him. "And you want to know something else?"

Crossing his arms against his chest, Cassian's lips twitch upwards. He’s fully aware of the way your gaze momentarily dips down, catching the flex of his biceps. "What?" he prompts, the hint of a teasing smile playing on his face. 

Suddenly, the words die at your throat as you meet his gaze again. The intensity in his eyes rattles your nerves and you feel the courage slowly slipping away. Desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers, you curl your fingers into his leathers and yank him down to your height. Choosing to show him instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

You pour out all your feelings into the kiss, heart quickening when he begins to reciprocate. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He’d dreamt of this moment just as much as you did and now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

Unfortunately, for him, the screams tearing through the training grounds have you pulling away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Emerie and Gwyn, going wild and playfully tugging at Nesta’s arms while she laughs. Even Azriel indulges in a chuckle.

Blush creeps into your cheeks. You hold your breath as the world seems to stand still. However, instead of an awkward response, Cassian simply smiles, the flush of his cheeks matching yours and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I like you,” you finally confess, exhaling as your gaze dips downward. “Like might not even be sufficient enough at this point…"

Cassian's fingers gently grip your chin, coaxing your gaze back up to his. His thumb sweeps over your cheek in a tender caress—the same way it did on the night of your drunken confession. But this time, he doesn't hold back. He allows his thumb to trace the soft plush of your lips next.

And if the gleam in his hazel eyes was not enough to send you to the seventh heaven, his next words did.

“I’m falling in love with you, too.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this one! ❤️

tagging: @hellodarling1357 , @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fluff #abba x acotar

[mournings-stars]

Hey !!

How about writing romantic head-cannons with the hazbin hotel cast where the reader (could be AFAB) and has catlike features but also has a cat like personality?? (Like the reader is grumpy , tired , always frowning etc)

Obviously take your time , but hopefully this request will reach you well :33

catlike!reader x hazbin cast

anon u literally read my mind i was just sitting down to write something like this so i got u (charlie and vaggie can go together but i made them separate) also im including angel so reader is not fem but they can still be afab if u want — also also, i only included the actual hotel cast, so if you want more characters lmk!!

charlie

you know those cats that hate everyone except one person, that would be you with charlie

charlie won’t bother you or pester you about waking up for activities because you’ll just come when you can, and once you do you’re very engaged (only because it’s her)

as soon as you lie across her lap she makes sure she does not move 1. because you’re warm and she loves cuddling with you and 2. because if you got up and made a face at her before going to sit somewhere else she’d be devastated

she knows just where to scratch, massage, and pet you to get you to fall asleep or relax — she’s put very special attention into memorizing these things and literally everything else about you

vaggie

you can be grumpy together (mostly with alastor, she values your grumpy support when it comes to the radio demon)

vaggie loves to cuddle — if you come to sit behind her legs or between them she could stay like that for hours or just fall asleep

you tend to sleep in with her, 1. because she, like charlie, would rather be still for hours than have you grumpy and moving away from her, and 2. she could use some relaxing time with you before having to work

she can’t keep up with your naps, but she will pause what she’s doing to give you a little kiss on the forehead so she can snap a picture of you stretching and curling back up

husker

husk is already a little cat like (he’s literally a cat) so yall either get along great or you’re arguing all the time then sleep together (yk those cats that are hissing and growling and shit then cuddle while they sleep… yeah)

he lets you sit on the bar, but only because if he told you to get down you’d start knocking things off the counter “accidentally”

whenever he sits on the couch, if you’re not already asleep, you’re quick to sit next to him and lie on his lap. he might grumble a little, but he’s definitely running his hands over your hair and listening to you pur as you fall sleep

loves bedtime — as soon as you’re in either of your rooms, the first thing you’re doing is cuddling up and he might not admit it to anyone, but it’s his favorite part of the day

alastor

you know those cats that, no matter how much you move, they just won’t get off of you? thats you with al

he reluctantly lets you lie on him, but in the same way he lets niffty climb all over him, he’s not going to stop you. especially because he doesn’t mind how warm you are. not that he’d say it, but he does find you lying on him very comfortable after a long day and will definitely use it as an excuse as to why he can’t get up to do whatever someone is asking for

“can’t you see i’m needed elsewhere?” “i’m very busy at the moment!” and he’s just drinking coffee, reading the paper, and sitting with your head on his lap

when you’re alone, he’ll tell you that you’re welcome to lie on his lap “if you truly need to rest”

don’t get grumpy with him though, he’ll get up every time you come to sit with him

angel dust

don’t put it past him, he will carry you around if you’ve been lying on him and he needs to get up because 1. there’s no way he’s waking you up and 2. he’s not about to have you be grumpy that he moved (though there is a chance you’ll be grumpy that he moved you, but at least you’re still warm)

loves cuddling, but his favorite thing is making you purr by massaging your ears out scratching your head while you’re lying on him — and he absolutely loves when you lie on him

yes sitting on the couch is nice, but once he’s lying in his room and you come in and lie on his chest, he’s the happiest he’s ever been. especially after a long day at the studio

if he has to leave while you’re asleep, he’ll leave you food that probably won’t get eating until he comes back and wakes you up by moving your cushion slightly, making you all pouty — which he finds absolutely adorable

he can’t take any pouty/frowning/grumpiness from your seriously when it’s so adorable

sir pentious

you definitely have a bit of similarities when it comes to finding warm spots to relax in, and that probably led to you relaxing together because you refused to move, and he needed to be warm (that’s when he found out he actually enjoyed your company)

as quickly as he let’s you into his workspace, he kicks you out because you just keep knocking shit over, but then he let’s you back in cause you’ll just sit outside the door and sneak back in when he leaves momentarily

once he figures out how to get something warm in his workspace that you’ll just sleep on, he’s happy to have you there. especially because he finds you adorable

he probably stops working to sit with you, or kiss your head, or just wake you up because he does kind of miss you knocking things over even though he can’t stand it

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #husk x reader #husker hazbin hotel #husker x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin vaggie x reader #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie x reader #charlie x vaggie #chaggie #chaggie x reader #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious #vaggie headcanons #alastor headcanons #charlie headcanons #angel dust x reader #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #angel dust headcanons #hazbin hotel husk #husk headcanons

[teamatsumu]

where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)

summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions

word count: 1981

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties

event masterlist

There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.

There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.

It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.

Friend.

The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.

High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.

Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.

Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.

“Ready for dinner?”

Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.

When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.

“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”

He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”

You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”

And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.

You can feel your shoulders drop.

After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.

As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.

When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.

“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.

“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”

You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.

“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”

Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.

Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.

“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”

You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.

“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”

And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.

……………………

Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.

Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.

Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.

Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.

You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.

You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.

He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.

“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.

“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.

“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.

You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”

You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.

“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.

“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”

“Me too.”

“Okay good.”

Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.

“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.

Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.

That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.

A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.

“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.

You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.

“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”

He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.

“I like you tons.”

You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.

“I like you tons too.”

Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.

#hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo haikyuu #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo fluff #hinata shoyo fanfiction #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #hinata shōyō

[jockbroski34]

The Jockrooms

I hated gym class.  I wasn't athletic and I didn’t like playing sports.  Worst of all, I was stuck with the dumb jocks in my class.  Today, one of them, Kyle, threw a dodgeball right at my face.  The force was immense.  As the ball collided with me with the speed of a bullet train, I felt myself lose my balance and I tumbled onto the ground.  I sat on the ground in a daze, my head spinning from the raw power exerted from the ball.  If he threw it any harder, I’d be sent to the nurse.

Kyle was one of the tallest guys in the school, towering at an impressive 6’4, and he was just as strong as he was tall.  He was huge and he made sure that everyone knew it.  He was proof that God picked favorites in terms of genetics.  The guy had pretty much everything, except for a working brain.  He had little problem asserting dominance on those he viewed as weaker than him.  To him, I was yet another easy target with my wimpy constitution.

His jock friends cheered and high-fived him for how savagely he destroyed me.  Our gym teacher did nothing to discourage his aggressive behavior, but I wouldn’t expect any less from the football coach.  Those were his boys after all.  They could probably get away with murder and he’d still cover for them.  I sat down on the sidelines, covering my swollen cheek, as I was forced to watch Kyle and his goons dominate the rest of my team.

After what felt like an eternity, the teacher dismissed us to go change and I was relieved.  I was still covering my cheek, bruised from the dodgeball that was lobbed at me.  I sat down on the bench and opened my locker to change my clothes.  I felt a hand bump me as Kyle and his entourage walked past me.

“Sorry about that, bro,” he said, in a condescending manner.  “You’re supposed to dodge the ball, not get hit by it.  That’s why they call it dodgeball.”  I had to admit, that’s the smartest he’s ever sounded.  

“Whatever, you dumb jock,” I scoffed, ignoring his “advice” as he and his jock friends walked by.  I wasn’t sure if they were snickering at his lame attempt for a joke or at me, but I didn’t really care.  I doubt that they had much for brains either, with only sports and sex being the only thing keeping their testosterone-ridden minds running.

I glared over at Kyle while he was changing.  I had to give him credit.  He was very handsome, and he knew it, but that just made me hate him even more.  He was a guy who people either loved or hated, but his arrogant fuckboy attitude would be a turn-off for anyone who wasn’t as shallow as him.  I began to wonder why he had to be the one gifted with such a nice body.  If I was as strong as him, what would I do?

I finished changing into my regular school attire, but I felt the urge to go to the bathroom.  By the time I finished emptying my bladder, the locker room was completely empty.  Amidst the ghost town, something caught my eye.

I noticed a door that wasn’t there earlier at the end of the hallway opposite of me.  It looked out of place compared to anything I’ve seen in the school.  It was crimson with a silver knob.  I could hear something coming from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out anything.  It didn’t sound like construction.

For some reason, I almost felt like it was calling out to me.  Even though I needed to get to my next class, I needed to know what was behind the door.  My curiosity got the best of me as I put my hand on the handle.  It was warm, but not enough to burn my hand.  I hesitated for a moment before opening the door and I took my first steps in.

I tried to gather my bearings in this foreign room.  The room was very warm, steamy almost, with the smell of sweat lingering in the air.  It smelled like our locker room and the heat was far too much, almost like a sauna.  I knew I wouldn’t last long in this heat, so I figured it was best to head back to class.  I turned around, but instead of reaching for the door, I walked face first into a wall.  …This was where I came from, right?

“Hello?  Helloooo!”  I shouted, hoping someone would come to my rescue.  The only voice that responded was my own as my words echoed throughout the room.  I sighed.  Looks like I’ll have to find my own way out.

I realized that this would not be easy as I looked ahead.  I saw rows of lockers all around me and to my horror, the maze stretched out further than I could possibly imagine.  This room alone looked larger than the school itself!  Why did the school need this many lockers?  I decided to follow the line of lockers to find out if there was an exit at the end.  I started to hear a buzzing sound, not from the sounds of the lights, but from a different source, along with a voice so quiet that I couldn’t understand what it was saying.  I honestly felt like I was hallucinating.  Perhaps the ball Kyle threw at me actually put me in a coma.

I followed the row of lockers, the numbers increasing with every step.  The bold red lockers complemented the dark walls and white ceiling.  As I walked forward, I was tempted by turns and corners, filled with even more lockers.  I did not want to risk getting even more lost so I simply walked as close to a straight line as possible.  I found myself sweating profusely, drenching my T-shirt and jeans.  As I was getting more and more sweaty, I was also getting dehydrated, and there seemed to be no sign of any water fountains.  I was surprised that they had not installed any, but that wasn’t even the weirdest thing because nothing made sense here.

My heart sunk as I entered an empty room, a dead end.  If whoever built this place had any sense of interior design, there would be a door here.  I observed my surroundings, but there seemed to be no sign of any way out.  This was going to be longer than I thought.  I realized I would have to give an explanation to my teacher about why I was so late, but she would never believe an excuse like this.  That is, if I can even find a way out of here.  I looked down, surprised to find a bottle of some sort.  It looked to be some sort of beverage.  It looked to be a sandy brown.  I would’ve preferred…no…I desperately needed water, but I would be a fool to ignore any amount of hydration.

I untwisted the cap, and was surprised by the strange smell of the liquid.  It didn’t smell foul, but it didn’t smell sweet either.  I closed my eyes and took a sip, but I grimaced at the mixture of bitterness and saltiness.  The chalky taste lingered in my mouth, but at least it made me feel more alert.  Despite the unpleasant taste, I knew it was better than nothing, so I chugged the bottle before dropping it on the ground, making sure not to miss any drop.  To my surprise, I felt more full of energy than I ever had before.  But for some reason, as my body was starting to digest the drink, I felt as though the room was shrinking before my eyes.  Wait, was I getting taller?  Maybe this place is messing with my head.  To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being a couple inches taller.  Maybe Kyle would stop picking on me if I was on his level.

The downside, however, was that I was starting to feel even more sweaty to the point that my clothes were now flooded to the point of no return.  I knew they would smell of sweat forever no matter how many times I washed them, so I figured that stripping would be the better option.  I can always change back into my gym clothes when I get back.  I desperately hoped that I was all alone here so no one would see me in this embarrassing state.  I looked at the locker at the end of the room.  1000.  The numbers went up to at least 1000?  This had to be some kind of sick joke.  I was frustrated, but I knew I had to retrace my steps in order to find a way out of here.

A strange idea entered my head after walking into several more dead ends, seemingly out of nowhere.  If I went to my own locker, would I find something there?  It sounded like a stupid idea since I would miss out on other potential paths, but it just felt right.  Besides, I had no other leads.  My locker number was 0136.  I continued walking back trying to test if my hypothesis was correct.  My body was trying to fight back against my exhaustion and my mind was trying to stop itself from being drowned out by the subliminal noise.  It felt like this place was messing with me in some way.  I had to find a way out of here.

Eventually, my eyes lit up as I turned a corner to find lockers numbered in the 0100s.  I felt my body guiding me until I found a locker that appeared to be left open.  All of the others were closed, so maybe it had some significance?  0133…0134…0135…0136!  I chuckled at the coincidence that my locker would be the one that was different like I knew it would be.  Inside, I found yet another one of those same drinks from before, a piece of paper, and a…red jockstrap?  I chugged the drink desperate to feel hydrated.  For some reason, it tasted better than I remembered.  The paper appeared to be some kind of riddle.

“Only this way is right.”

“The combination will show you the light.”

Turns out I was right to come this way.  For some reason, it seems like this room was made specifically for me.  I was more curious about the second line.  “The combination will show you the light.”  If my locker number was what led me here, then surely my locker combination would be the next hint.  05-13-34.  51334?  I shuddered, knowing that my journey would be a lot longer than I had anticipated.  Hopefully this helps me escape from this hell.

I started to wonder who wrote this, but I didn’t even know who built this room in the first place.  None of this makes any sense.  I might not even be in school anymore.  This could be some sort of pocket dimension.  I could be dreaming, or I could be in a coma.  I looked back in the locker, my eyes fixated on the red jockstrap.  It looked like it had already been worn and was a size too big for my skinny frame, but for some reason, I felt an urge to put it on.  I stripped out of my dripping boxers and put on the jockstrap.

To my surprise, it actually fit perfectly around my crotch area.  I expected to feel uncomfortable, but instead I felt liberated.  If only there was a mirror in here.  My cock bulged as it stretched out the red fabric.  I could’ve sworn it looked bigger, but I knew I was just imagining things.  Regardless, I felt faster and full of stamina and virility.

I was not an athlete though.  Only the jocks wore jockstraps, and I hated them, but I couldn’t even remember why.  Why was I so mad at Kyle earlier?  My memories of today started to blur.  I couldn’t think straight.  I couldn’t remember anything.  I had no comprehension of time anymore.  Who knows how long I have been in here.  I sprinted ahead down the hallway, with a newfound sense of energy that I had never felt before, as I needed to find locker 51334.  The heavy sound of my big feet created a steady rhythm, almost like a drum.  My body seemed to move on its own like it was on autopilot.

As I ran forward, the audio grew louder, yet the words remained just as shrouded as they were before.  Despite that, I felt like I started to understand the words deep down.  A weird contradiction, I know.  Wherever the source of the noise was, it had to be coming from that direction.  I knew in my heart that this was the right way.

I kept on going for what could’ve been hours.  Who even knows at this point.  The concept of time was foreign to this place.  If you told me I was gone for a week, I’d believe you.  I kept on finding the same drinks from earlier on benches scattered around.  They were the only thing keeping my head in the game.  They gave me strength, but eventually I stopped seeing them as I became reminded by the intense heat of the room and of all the dead ends I had run into.  I had to be in the 40000s as I began to feel fatigue again and it felt like my body was finally about to give in.  My body felt sore and swollen as if I was still recovering from a workout.  Workout?  Since when did I care about the gym?  Maybe this jockstrap was rubbing off on me more than I thought.  But I’ll never be like Kyle or the other jocks, I assured myself.

I kept going.  My body was pushing itself to the limit, while my mind started to wander.  I became worried that I was gonna miss the game that was on tonight.  Me and the bros were going to watch it together and I didn’t want to miss it.  I couldn’t even comprehend how unnatural these thoughts felt.  I should be thinking about playing the new update for my favorite MMO, not watching sports.  But bros always come first…

I felt like I was going crazy, like this giant locker room maze was having an effect on me.  I was awakened from my trance by a sudden realization.  I needed to get to practice.  It was like an alarm clock went off in my head.  The last thing I wanted was to get dropped from the team due to poor attendance.  This renewed sense of urgency was what kept me going instead of passing out from the heat and exhaustion.

At long last, I was greeted by a room that was surprisingly familiar to me.  It felt like a second home to me.  It was like the actual locker room in my school, but on a larger scale.  I looked at the number next to me.  50000.  This had to be the right way.  I was almost there.  The background noise was at its loudest here, but I still could not find any source, but at this point I didn’t mind it.  It honestly helped me calm down a little.  I checked every locker in this large room, until I saw it.  51334.  It was half open, so I pried it open, with a sense of strength that I had never felt before.  Inside the locker, I found another note and a larger bottle of the same drink.  I gulped every drop down like I had just found an oasis.  This one tasted better even compared to the rest.  I read the note, hoping to be free from my prison.

“Inside the locker you will hide”

“The way back is on the flipped side”

I had to get in the locker?  It was a weird instruction, but I followed the orders.  I was surprised I was able to fit into it with my bulky build.  I turned to the other side to read what it said.  My eyes widened as I felt a sense of dread run down my spine.

“Close the door but don’t be shocked”

“When you wake up, you’ll be a jock!”

Shit, I didn’t want to become one of the jocks!  I valued my intelligence too much to stoop down to their level.  But it was already too late as the door shut itself on its own and I felt the ground below me vibrate.  Was this truly the only way out or was I doomed to join them from the start?  I tried to break my way free, but my strength dwindled as my eyes dulled and I passed out from exhaustion.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up on one of the benches to the sound of metal and heavy chatter.  To my relief, I was finally back in the real world.  The football team was getting ready for practice.  Damn, I really did miss the whole day.  To make things worse, Kyle was standing right over me.  Great.  Despite everything though, I actually kinda missed him.  That was probably the first sign that something was very wrong with me.

“Bro, wake up!” he said as he shook me.  I looked down.  I was dripping in sweat and I was wearing only my jockstrap.  The fact that I was wearing the same red jockstrap was proof that it wasn’t a dream.  “You alright dude?  Coach says you were passed out here for hours!”

I regained my consciousness, surprised to see him concerned for me.  “Bro, you’ll never guess what happened.  I was in this, like, weird maze, dude.  Lockers everywhere.”  I was genuinely shocked by the words that came out of my mouth.  I sounded like a total dudebro.

“Bro, are you high?  What are you talking about?”  Kyle chuckled at how absurd I sounded.  I felt embarrassed because I honestly sounded as stupid as him.

“I’m not lying, bro!  There was a door right there!”  I got up and pointed towards where the door should be.  It wasn’t there.  I looked like I was insane.

“You sure you’re okay after gym, bro?  I figured you’d catch that dodgeball since you’re such a good wide receiver.  Must’ve gone too hard.  Practice should help clear your head.”

“Practice?  Wide receiver?  What the fuck are you talking about?”  I didn’t play any sports.  Before today, I didn’t even know any teams outside of famous ones and the ones local to us.  I didn’t know any positions, any rules, or any players.  If that was the case, then why did it all feel so familiar to me?

“Did you lose your memory or some shit?  Let me refresh you, bro.  You play football and you’re our wide receiver.  You hang out with me and the boys every day.  You’re a total jock, bro.  You’re hardly a genius, but surely that rings a bell, right dude?”  My eyes became fixated on his charming blue eyes, and I felt myself sink into them as if they were the ocean, as he reminded me about my place in the world.  Finally, things started to make sense…but…

What the fuck?  You hated Kyle.  You didn’t play football.  You weren’t friends!  But for some reason, that didn’t seem right.

You loved Kyle.  He was one of your best friends.  You guys played football together.  You guys basically ruled the school.  You didn’t need to think much because you compensated with raw strength and power.  Brawn over brains, bro.  You were a jock and you always will be one.

“Huhu…Now you’re making sense bro,”  I chuckled.  I only now realized how much I changed, with how deep my voice was.  How much of a cocky douchebag I looked with that smirk plastered on my face.  How much bigger and stronger and taller I was.  How toned and perfect every muscle in my jock body was.  I should hate this, but why does it feel so good?  “I had a dream that I was someone else.  A total nerd, bro.  It was awful.”

“That person never existed.  This is who you were and always will be.  Just think back to when we met, bro.”  He said it with his usual cocky grin, but I felt no malice from it.  I assumed he was gaslighting me into believing that I lived a different life, but he seemed genuine.  I remembered him cracking up at one of my dumb jokes at practice and we started hanging out both in and out of school.  Memories of the practices and football games and parties we shared filled my mind and I smiled as I looked fondly back on those days.  No…I shouldn’t remember this.  But for some reason, it all felt real to me, like I accidentally stumbled into some parallel universe where I was one of Kyle’s jock bros.

I felt any semblance of my former self lose control as my jock self remembered that he was the only me.  I was an intruder in my jock body, someone that was never there and shouldn’t be there.  I felt my thoughts slow down as my new self started overwriting any old memories with his own, and I started to remember who I really was, a jock.  I wanted to die inside, watching me become another asshole jock just like Kyle, but as I was fading away, I started to remember why I liked being a jock so much in the first place.  I got to be big, strong, and popular.  I could fuck anyone I wanted with my massive cock.  Who cared if I was a little dense?  Definitely outweighed being a fucking nerd.  I knew it was the jock in me talking, but it didn’t matter anymore because that’s all I was now.  My cock bulged further in my jockstrap as my conscious mind was engulfed by my real self.

“Sorry bro, it’s just been a crazy day.  Let's get ready for practice.”

“You’re going to practice in just that?  Haven’t gotten off yet today, bro?”  Kyle chuckled, pointing at my red jockstrap, which was already leaking with precum.  I became embarrassed as I noticed the damp stain on my favorite jockstrap.  And that Kyle was staring right at my 9 inch bulge.

“Nah, bro.  I gotta get changed.  Why are you looking at my dick, bro?”  I became defensive, not comfortable with one of my bros staring at my erect cock.  Kyle was hot and all, but this just felt wrong to me.

Kyle stammered, looking for an excuse.  I could’ve sworn that his bulge grew as well in his tight football pants.  “I just never realized how big it is, bro.  No homo though.”  He snickered, trying to ease the sexual tension.  “Come on, Coach will be pissed if we take too long.  Probably will make us run extra laps.”  Before we left, I took one look in the mirror to admire my awesome body before joining Kyle and the others.

I had been playing football ever since I was in middle school so it’s no surprise that I was a natural.  I worked up a serious sweat, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to with Coach’s exercises.  He worked us to the bone every day.  When I came home, my mom was cooking dinner and she asked me how practice was, and I told her good as usual with a smile on my face.  For a second, I was surprised my mom knew I played football, but then I remembered that my parents were always supportive of my athletic career.  They always dropped their plans to cheer me on at my games.

Later, Kyle invited me and the bros over to watch the game.  I went over there as I had done many times before and I was greeted by my bros, people who I’ve known for just as long as Kyle.  After all, If they were his bros, they were my bros.  We laughed and joked around as we always did until the game started.

We gathered into Kyle’s room, big enough for seven guys, but man did I forget how much we reeked after practice.  We always shouted a ton during the game and I’m honestly surprised we never got any noise complaints from the neighbors.  It was like our own little frat party hosted in Kyle’s room.  We got really into it, but we were devastated when the opposing team scored in the last minute to gain the lead and win the game.  A wave of sadness and anger filled the air as everyone started to leave.  Everyone but me.  Kyle told me to stay for a little bit longer.

“Are you gonna make me feel better or what?”  he ordered.  He was really upset about the loss.

“How, bro?”  I responded.  Did he want me to crack a joke for him?  Give him a bro hug?

“I figured you remembered.  I need someone to relieve my stress.”  He grabbed his massive cock in his shorts and wiggled it around, helping me put two and two together.  “We found out one drunk night how good of a cocksucker you are, so you agreed to ‘lend me a hand’ if I ever need it.  Don’t worry, this is our little secret.”

“Oh, sorry bro.  I completely forgot.”  God, that was a wild night.  It was an embarrassing request, but I knew I was just helping a brother out.  I got on my knees and serviced Kyle as he made himself comfortable.  He grabbed the back of my head with his firm palms, covered with callouses from years of pumping iron, and pushed his girthy shaft deeper into the depths of my mouth.  I was surprised at my lack of a gag reflex as this mass of meat clogged my throat.  I swallowed load after load of his hot, sticky semen until we had enough.

“Gotta say, bro, you suck dick better than like 90 percent of chicks I’ve been with.  You sure you’re not a little faggy?”  he teased.  I laughed and rebuked his claims.  I’m sure even some straight guys would be tempted by him and his impressive rod, and I’m no different.  We quickly changed the subject and we pretended like that never happened.  Neither of us wanted the other to know how much we enjoyed it.

To this day, I don’t know what the purpose of the jockrooms was.  Doesn’t really matter though.  As far as I’ve known, I’ve always been a jock and that’s all anyone has ever seen me as.  It is real though.  It was after gym class a few weeks later.  When we were changing, I saw a nerd, Kevin, walk down the same hallway I did at one point.  I felt like I knew him at one point, but that obviously wasn’t true.  Why would I hang out with someone like him?  I hid around the corner and watched as he approached the red door.  I smirked as he put his hand on the door and opened it, taking his first steps into his new life.  If you can’t beat us, you might as well join us.

I was eager to see Kevin at practice later.  He woke up on the same bench I did, wearing a jockstrap like me, almost completely unrecognizable from the person he was hours ago.  He took a moment to adjust, but we helped him remember how much of a jock he was.  Once a jock, always a jock.  I will never understand why the two of us thought we were nerds before.  After all, I’ve known Kev most of my life and I was the one who introduced him to Kyle and the others.  He’s been my best friend since 3rd grade and we were inseparable.  We were practically in sync on the field.  It felt awesome knowing that we were the kings of the school, and whoever hated us was just jealous that they’re not us.

#jock #jock bro #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #male hypnosis #male tf #male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #mental changes #reality change #reality shifting #gay tf #gay jock #transformation #muscle transformation #reprogramming #football jock #dumbing down #dumb jock #dumber #dumbification #fuckboi #nerd to jock #alpha jock #personality change

[owliellder]

All Pent Up

MDNI 18+

Puppy Hybrid! Leon Kennedy x afab! Reader

Word count: 3.85k

Warnings: Porn w/ plot, unprotected p in v (stay safe), no use of y/n, spanking, crying, slight ass-play.

Description: After a long night at work, you come home to a very pent up Leon. A trip to the park to help with that energy turns a little sour.

Tags: Submissive! Leon, neck biting/marking, begging, cunnilingus, knotting, mommy kink, fluff, near illegal amounts of praise AND aftercare, a lovely creampie to end the morning

Not proofread. I am once again sat here bored at work. More self indulgence since I work the same kind of job aforementioned in this lmao.

Also VERY much inspired by @abp0rns art of puppy Leon, specifically the two I put below the crop. Please check out their art they gotta be one of my favorite doodlers out there.

Edit: cross posted onto Ao3 if it's easier for you to read there (cause it is for me)

It had been an incredibly boring night at work for you. Working graveyard at a gatehouse meant you did practically nothing. Easy money, sure, but you can only watch so many movies and doodle so much before it becomes redundant.

The only thing keeping you going was making sure your puppy, Leon, stayed happy and comfortable. You'd found him at the shelter a few months back, and though you never considered yourself to be a hybrid kinda person, Leon was just too damn cute at that shelter.

After adopting the hybrid, you quickly fell into a nice afterwork routine; come home, get jumped by Leon, make breakfast while he asked a plethora of questions about your night and made sure you knew just how much he missed you by licking and slobbering all over you. He was the sweetest boy, but man was he excitable.

Some mornings, you'd come home a bit more awake than others. It was random and you're not sure what made that so, but today was apparently one of those days.

~

"-sosososo glad you're home, mommy! I've been so lonely and bored without you!" Leon happily talked on after you'd walked through the door, his golden fur covered tail thumping loudly against the back of the couch. You remained quiet as you let him ramble, reaching up to pet through his messy bedhead with a smile. "I chewed on my toys, broke one of the squeakers though, but you've gotten me plenty of other toys for me to play with!! I really like this fluffy red pig you got me-!"

He continued to talk loudly about everything he did after you left for work only 8 hours prior, running around to grab and show you his chewed up toy and his favorite toy, tail continuing to wag avidly all the while.

"Alright, alright.. settle down, Leon.." You spoke up, cutting off his talk about laying in your bed so you could take a moment to shed your work clothes in favor of some more comfortable lounge wear; an old, faded graphic tee and a pair of soft sweatpants.

The hybrid followed you throughout the apartment while continuing to ramble, albeit a lot quieter now. Clearly Leon had a lot of energy this morning, which wasn't unusual by any means, but since you weren't all that tired this morning you decided that a trip to the dog park would be a good way for him to get some much needed exercise and enrichment.

After making breakfast, you dressed your puppy in a cozy outfit since it was always little chilly in the mornings where you lived, damn cold desert. You only had to reach for the leash for him to start jumping and yapping enthusiastically, making it rather difficult to hook it onto his collar.

You decided to stay in your comfy clothes, seeing as it would keep you warm enough until the sun warmed the air outside.

"Do you think Chris will be there?! Can you text his owner?? Who else is gonna be there?! I can smell the park from here!-" Leon rambled excitedly as he tugged you along to the park, smelling every bush and tree the two of you passed thoroughly. His tail never stopped wagging, those soft floppy ears perked forwards as he moved his head every which way, focusing in on every movement and sound while beelining to the park. He knew the way there, the leash was just to make sure you didn't get lost.

The air was cool the, sun beginning to warm you up. It was starting to bring out your exhaustion, but you wanted Leon to get at least half an hour of playtime in so he wouldn't bug you while you slept later. The thought alone made it easy for you to power through that brain fog that threatened to settle in.

You and Leon walked across the street once the tall chainlink fence that bordered the dog park was in view, the Golden Retriever hybrid practically dragging you to the other side of the street as his excitement grew. There were always other hybrids out early in the morning, the cool mornings were nicer for walks compared to the hot afternoons, at least in your opinion.

Leon was rubbing himself along the side of the fence, sniffing with a large goofy smile on his face. He had playmates that were normally here around this time, namely Chris, a German Shepard hybrid. Though Chris was a little bigger than Leon, they always played nicely, never having gotten into any sort of scuffle.

Chris was quick to notice Leon, running up to the fence so he could sniff him. They rapidly got each other riled up, so the moment you made it to the gate you unhooked the leash from Leon's collar. This wasn't so he didn't get choked out when he launched into the park, no, it was because the last time you forgot to unhook his leash first, you were yanked face first into soggy grass and mud.

The second you unlatched the gate, Leon pushed it open. He sprinted into the grassy park, Chris not far behind before tackling the smaller hybrid with a playful growl. The two roughhoused, chased each other, and played tug-of-war with a stick Chris had found.

You decided to sit on a bench not too far from where the boys played, looking up from your phone every minute or so to make sure their play didn't turn ugly.

Only 30 minutes had gone by before- "Mommy! Mommy!" Leon shouted from across the park, prompting you to look up from your phone. It only took a moment for your eyes to nearly bulge out of your head when you spotted a now brown Leon. His tail wagged, slapping loudly against the thick puddle of mud he was laying sideways in. "Looklooklook! Chris and I found a ball!" he yelled with a grin, Chris holding up the muddy ball high in the air so you could see it.

You sat there dumbfounded for a brief moment before letting your head fall back, breathing in and letting out a deep sigh as your eyes closed. You tilted your head forwards again, letting your eyes open slowly as your annoyance showed clear on your face.

Your puppy could see your expression change even from where he was, his ears drooping more than they were as the mud had weighed them down a bit. Seems like playtime was over.

Chris' owner wasn't all that happy either, walking over to the filthy hybrids only a few seconds sooner than you did. You pulled Leon from the mud by the collar since he seemed a bit stuck, glaring weakly at the now cowering puppy.

"Leon is always getting Chris into some sort of mess." Chris' owner huffed out, clearly irritated with the situation. You frowned, running your free hand over your face with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Leon just seems to really like the mud lately. I can't help that Chris follows, but I'll try to keep Leon from the mud." You didn't really care for someone implying your Golden Retriever puppy was a bad dog, but the idea of confrontation mixed with your ever-growing exhaustion was enough to have you just let it go.

After apologizing again, you let Leon shake off the excess mud from his body before hooking the leash to his collar once more, beginning to pull him towards the gate. He was very resistant to leaving, whining and whimpering something fierce. "I'm sorry! ImsorryImsorry! Please I'll be good! Let me stay a little longer mommy! Please I'm sorry! Mommy!"

As pitiful as he sounded, you now had to squeeze a thorough bath in for the hybrid before you were even able to think about sleeping. You continued to drag him along as he fought against you, crying out softly as you finally got him through the gate, closing it before he could run back through.

Your exhaustion was making you irritable, and having to fight to get Leon back home was enough to make you angry. It got even worse when he growled at you.

You stopped walking, the entrance to your apartment building only a few feet away. Turning around to face him, he immediately shrunk down at your furious glare. "Bad boy, Leon." Your voice was harsh, yet also so calm, it scared him. He hated being a bad boy, he never wanted to hear those words together again.

After you started walking again, he followed obediently, staying silent all the way into your apartment. He stood stiffly by the front door once you closed it, watching you stomp away. The puppy was on the verge of tears, his muddy tail tucked between his legs and his ears flat against his head.

Leon's bottom lip trembled the longer he couldn't see you, his ears twitching a bit as he picked up on the sound of the bath faucet turning on. His hands were clasped in front of his legs, head down in shame.

"Leon!" You called out from the bathroom, your tone still laced with irritation, he could definitely tell that much. The hybrid quickly shuffled to the bathroom, trying his best not to get clumps of dried up mud on the carpet along the way.

Leon stood in the bathroom doorway before you gently dragged him in, making silent work of his clothes that were absolutely caked in mud. He knew what to do afterwards, quietly seating himself in the bath, shoulders slumped. The bath was silent except for Leon's weak attempts to apologize, his voice faltering every time once he looked at your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you just looked so disinterested.

After the bath, you shooed the puppy off with a towel draped over his shoulders, lazily washing off his collar in the dirty bath water before unplugging the tub.

Leon sat in the living room, drying himself off as best as he could with the towel. Even after, he shook himself off on instinct, the towel left discarded on the floor. He had sat himself on the couch, still slouched with a strong pout on his face.

He knew he was in trouble. His stomach sank when you walked out and stood in front of him with that same irritated look. You then walked and sat next to him on the left. "Lay across my lap, Leon."

The Golden Retriever hybrid whimpered, though he did as he was told, laying himself so his abdomen was laying on your lap, his tail still tucked between his legs. He yipped when you grabbed the base of his damp tail with your left hand, roughly untucking it so you could get a clear view of his ass. "Look at me, Leon."

He turned his head and tilted it back slightly so he could look up at you, his eyes sad and watery. He didn't have anything to say for himself. "You growled at me. You've never growled at me before." You sounded upset, and you were. You didn't want to punish your sweet boy, but him growling at you for something so insignificant deeply bothered you.

Sighing, you pulled his tail up away from his ass even further, grip tightening on it as you felt him try and tuck it back between his legs again. Wordlessly, you drew your other hand back, a sharp smack along with a cry from Leon ringing out in the quiet apartment. You hated having to do this, but he needed to learn.

A few harsh spanks later and the hybrid's ass was bright red and sore, tears spilling down his face as he sobbed out barely comprehensible apologizes in between loud cries every time you brought your hand down on his tender behind. His hands gripped the couch cushion tightly, those pitiful sobs of his tugging at your heart.

Once you feel Leon'd learned his lesson, you gently ran your hand along both his ass cheeks, soothing the hot and red skin while your other hand caressed the base of his tail. You waited until his crying quieted to talk to him again, listening to him sniffle wetly as you let go of his tail to wipe away his snot and tears.

"Okay, okay... there you go, sweet boy. All done. I'm all done..." you whispered to the whimpering puppy hybrid in your lap, shifting your body sideways so he could climb up and lay his head against your chest. You combed your fingers through his hair with one hand while the other stroked the side of his face, clearing the few stray tears that continued to fall.

Leon buried his face into your chest, hiccuping out muffled apologies as he brought his hands up to wrap around you. "I'm sorry mommy. So-.. sososo sorry... Didn't mean to, mommy..."

As he trembled against you, you couldn't help but feel terrible for punishing him that way. He'd never been bad before, the punishment really shouldn't have been so harsh..

You waited until he quieted to speak up again, tilting your head to the side slightly so you could see his face a little better. "...you took that so well, Leon. Such a good boy for mommy, huh?" Despite the suggestive undertone, you made sure to talk softly, careful not to upset the delicate puppy on your chest.

He lifted his head up slightly, nodding weakly as his eyes turned glassy once more. "Please.. I'll-I'll be a good boy for you m-mommy. I'm sorry- I'm so so sorry mommy- I didn't mean to growl- ImsorryImsorryIm-"

You shushed him, running your hand from the side of his face up through his hair as he began to cry again. "You're a good boy, Leon. I forgive you, baby.."

All Leon wanted to do was make this right. He never wanted to be a bad boy again. He hated the way you spoke to him, the way you had looked at him. It was so scary, he wasn't a bad boy, no, he wasn't.

His mind was flooded with everything he could possibly do to make it up to you, tears falling onto your shirt as he pulled himself up off of you. He crawled backwards and sat back on his haunches, giving you a wary look as he tucked his fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Oh, Leon, sweetheart, you don't have to-" "Please..." Leon's meek voice cut you off, making you pause for a moment before nodding with a smile. His hands trembled as he pulled your sweatpants down, taking your panties with them. The hybrid hiccuped again before bringing his head down between your thighs, putting your legs over his shoulders as he cautiously placed his hands onto the points of your hips

It only took a second before he shoved his face into your cunt, whimpering at your smell and taste as he licked between your folds. You gasped, feeling his tongue eagerly lap up your slick as it leaked out of you, his low whimpers vibrating deliciously against you. "Leon~... oh~.. easy, boy..."

You reached a hand down to gently stroke his hair, attempting to get the puppy hybrid to calm down a bit still. He was obviously so eager to please, though he was still shaken up by the punishment; tears falling from his eyes, quiet sobs muffled by your pussy, eyes closed, and cheeks flushed a beautiful pink. His tail had started to wag again and you were relieved to see it sway slowly. You just wanted to see your puppy happy and excitable again like he always was.

Leon continued to lap at your cunt, keeping himself firmly buried in it. His breathing was a bit shaky but you just let him do what he needed to do, reaching your hand to the right a bit so you could stroke one of his soft floppy ears. He sighed at the feeling, his tail wagging a little faster.

"That's a good boy, Leon~... god- such a good boy for his mommy.." You praised the hybrid as he worked his mouth on you, the praise causing him to whine into your cunt. His eyes peaked open, looking up at you as small tears fell from them. "Good boy~..." You ran your hand down to stroke your thumb between his eyes, prompting him to close them again with a sigh.

Your words encouraged him further, sucking at your clit when his tongue wasn't buried inside of you. The puppy hybrid licked all around, making sure none of your sweet slick was left to waste. He eased his grip on your hips, partially worried he would hurt you, but mostly cause he adored the way you writhed when you drew close to your orgasm. He relished in how you pulled his head impossibly closer, practically grinding against his face, using him. What a good boy he was.

Leon was in heaven when you came, whimpering into your cunt as you gushed against his face. He made sure to lick up everything he could, even dipping down to your ass for a minute, tongue flat against the puckered hole. He'd be mad if he saw the couch got some of your juices.

After a moment, he pulled his head away, resting the side of his slick covered face against your thigh as he looked up at you with those puppy-dog eyes that you just couldn't resist. You knew what he wanted, and who were you to deny him?

"My good boy wanna fuck his mommy? Show his mommy what a good boy he is?" You whispered, to which he eagerly nodded in response, his ears perking up. You could hear his tail thump lazily against the back cushion of the couch, all the while watching him lick his lips. "I-I'll be a good boy for mommy. I'm a good boy-..good boy for mommy.." he mumbled quietly, hoisting himself up onto his haunches again after carefully laying your legs down off his shoulders. His thick cock was leaking pre-cum, flushed red at the tip while his knot was fully swollen. It was hard to look away.

Leon continued to mumble to himself, almost like he was trying to convince himself that he was a good boy. His breathing was still shaky as he watched you flip over, your ass up in the air while you rested your elbows on the armrest of the couch.

The poor thing was practically drooling at the sight of you, frozen in place, just staring at your glistening pussy. Your voice snapped him out of his trance, a hushed "Pretty boy..." causing him to lurch forward and mount you without further hesitation.

You cried out as he shoved his cock into you halfway, stopping only to grab the skin right above your collarbone with his teeth. He made sure he was positioned properly, shifting slightly before pushing his throbbing dick all the way. He whined at the way your slick walls gripped him, his knot pressed firmly against the outside of your cunt.

Leon's teeth broke skin as he began to piston in and out of you. He was drooling, whimpering, moaning, and his tail was wagging so fast. He loved the way his mommy felt, gripping his so tightly, sucking his thick cock in.

His let go of your skin to lick at gently, which was a stark contrast to his fast and rough thrusts. "So sorry mommy- sososo sorry.. never growl at you again- ah~..! I-I'll be mommy's good-.. good boy.."

The hybrid panted next to your ear, reaching his hands up and under your loose shirt to grip and massage your breasts. His fingers pinched and tugged at your sensitive nipples, causing you to moan loudly. You could feel every bit of his cock as he slammed it into you over and over again, the tip kissing your cervix which made you hiss at the slight pain it caused.

"Gonna- hnghh~.. gonna fill mommy up.. gonna be mommy's best boy again..." Leon whined, tilting his head to the side so he could nip at your neck, kissing and licking under your jaw. He sucked numerous hickeys down your neck, making quick work of the other side as well. He wanted you to remember how good he was for you, how much he was willing to do to make things better, what a good boy he was for you.

It didn't take long for him to near his own orgasm, his chin resting over your shoulder as his hands had worked their way back to your hips. He was so close; the sounds of your moans, the sinful way your pussy squelched with slick as he fucked into you, your smell, the lingering taste of you on his tongue, everything was just so overwhelming.

The puppy hybrid didn't have the words to give you warning, only a long drawn out whine as his hips stuttered forward, knot stretching you open. You came again from the feeling, barely being able to clench around his knot. It was just so big.

With his cum pumping into you, you could only groan pleasantly at the feeling of being so full, his knot having basically plugged you to the point that none of it could escape.

You could partially register Leon running his hands up and down your body, anywhere he could reach in his position, bunching up your shirt in the process. His large hands felt nice, helping you come down from your high. He was whispering something, you couldn't make out what, but it was probably the same thing he'd been spewing before.

~

After Leon was able to pull out of you, you made sure to reassure him over and over that he was your good boy, and he'd always be your good boy.

You made him a little snack once you'd cleaned yourself and him up, seeing as the park and your at-home playtime had influenced his appetite quite a bit. You loved to see him happy again; those beautiful blue eyes crinkled with a smile as that fluffy tail of his wagged.

Your body finally realized how tired it was once more, your brain catching up with that as well. You waved Leon, who was elated to follow you, into your room, practically bounding in like a deer. He begged to lay the way you two did on the couch, and again, who were you to deny him?

You laid back, head on your pillow as Leon nestled himself on top of you. He laid his head on your chest, turning his head to the left as he rested his arms on either side of you, his hands just barely tucked up under your pillow after pulling the blankets up over the both of you.

"You're the greatest boy anyone could ask for, Leon. Always taking such good care of me.." you whispered as his eyes closed, his tail going from a lazy wag to a stop as he fell asleep.

"I love you, my sweet boy.."

#baby baby boy #love puppy leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #puppy leon kennedy

[miguelhugger2099]

I need soft Miggy so maybe some aftercare with him? Like after a rough fucking session and he makes sure you feel loved

Love Between

started ripping my hair out chewing on iron bars i just KNOW his love language is acts of service like fanfiction isnt enough i need to experience this man in the flesh thank you for the request ! i hope its up to your standards! as alwayssss i can always remake this once my requests open up if you're not satisfied :)

Miguel x Reader, Fluff, Brief mentions of smut, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,361

Miguel tightens his hold on your hips, his teeth buried in your neck while his hips slowly came to a stop. He let go of your neck, his lips brushing against the bite mark he’d given you. He helped you release your legs around his waist, gently placing them back down on the bed. Miguel pulled out of you, pressing soft kisses along your neck and jaw when you whined.

“I’ve got you, mama.” He whispers, his hands gently caressing your thighs to ease the feeling back into your legs. “You did so good.”

You blink up at him, your vision slowly coming back after a dazing session. You could barely feel your body, legs numb and your chest heaving up and down in deep breaths. You feel Miguel’s hands rubbing up and down your waist.

“You okay?” He asks sweetly, pecking your nose and cheeks. You nod and mumble.

“Uh-huh…” You close your eyes, completely drained and spent. Luckily, Miguel had prepared beforehand and grabbed a towel from the nightstand. When you two decided to be a bit more rougher this time around, he knew he had to be prepared to love and pamper you since his stamina was much higher than yours.

He helped spread your legs apart to clean up the cum that had spilled out of you. “Do you want take out or do you want me to cook something?” He asks, taking glances up at you. You mumble your answer that was borderline incoherent but he understood you easily. “Take-out it is.”

Miguel then tosses the soiled towel to the hamper and slides in his boxers. He then scoops you up in his arms and you snuggle in his warmth. He kisses your head and leads you to the bathroom. He plops you down on the toilet and turns on the tub faucet to fill the tub up with warm water.

Miguel takes you in his arms again and helps you inside the warm tub, quickly filling it with bubbles. You gained a bit of your strength back, leaning against him while he cleaned your body up with a nice smelling soap. You looked up at him with a soft smile, watching him work on you with care. He meets your eyes and gives you a small smile of his own. You pucker your lips, a silent plea for a kiss and he chuckles. Leaning down, he meets your lips with his in a tender kiss.

Satisfied, you lean back on him again and play with the bubbles, already starting to feel the effects of the warm water making you sleepy. Miguel’s hands–which were groping and kneading your hips and ass moments before–were gently grazing over the small bruises on your skin. His thumb caressing the bite marks of his teeth and the sore spots where he held onto you desperately. He made sure to massage those specific places, wanting you good as new.

“What do you wanna order? Pizza, some fast food, or maybe something from that small restaurant we go to?” Miguel pulls you out of your sleepy state. He brushes back your hair, his hands wet so some strands get stuck to his fingers.

“Hmmm. I don’t care.” You murmur with a shrug of your shoulders. You reach up to his face, the water dripping off your arms and you cup his cheeks. He gazes down at you lovingly.

“Okay.” He replies. He knows you want something specific.

Miguel runs his hand in the water after a few minutes of cleaning and massaging you. “Alright. The water’s getting cold. I’ll be right back, nena.” He murmurs and kisses you before getting up on his feet and walking out the bathroom. He picks up his phone and places an order at one of your favorite places–one you haven’t had in a minute so he decided to spoil you with it this time.

He heads to the laundry room where warm towels had been sitting in the dryer earlier. He snags one and walks back into the bathroom where his heart stutters seeing you put your hair up with a claw clip. Water droplets down your back and arms, glistening on your neck in the warm lighting.

“Can you stand for me, mama?” He sets the towel aside and offers both his hands for you to take. You nod and take his hands, Miguel hauling you up from the tub and it swishes loudly from the sudden momentum. You step onto the floor mat and Miguel wraps the warm towel around you. You clutch onto the towel and he brings you in his arms. For a few moments, Miguel just holds you in a big warm bear hug, peppering a few kisses to the side of your head.

He picks you up bridal style again, refusing to let you walk, and plops you back into bed. He kisses your forehead and heads off to rummage through your drawers to find you some fuzzy pajamas. You watch him with a smile, your heart swelling as he takes care of you down to the tiniest details. You were clean and loved while Miguel worked hard to make sure you were relaxed.

Miguel comes back with folded pajamas in one hand and your slippers in his other.  He places the slippers down and takes the towel from you to dry off any remaining drops of water. He kneels in front of you to help slip on a clean pair of panties on you as well as the pajama pants. Meanwhile, you picked up the shirt that was from the pile, noticing how it was just Miguel’s shirt and you smiled while putting it over your head.

He looked up at you, his eyes brighter seeing you glow and look cute in his shirt. He takes your hand and kisses it before joining you in bed by wrapping his arms around you and pushing you back on the bed. Miguel snuggled himself back to the crook of your neck and your arms went around his shoulders. He pulls the weighted blanket over you two for extra warmth.

Despite his shirt drowning you in the fabric, his hands ran up and down the sides of your body to feel your skin. “You were great, baby.” He mutters against your skin and you chuckle.

“It was fun. Rate me out of ten.” You smile and curl your fingers in his hair, nuzzling against him. You feel his shoulder shake with the rumble of his deep laugh.

“I’m not rating you. If anything, you should rate me. How did I do? Are you okay? Did everything feel good?” He asks, lifting himself off from your neck and brings a hand up to caress your cheek.

You nod, your eyes sparkling and heart fluttering at the memory. “Really good.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“In the best way possible.”

Miguel playfully bites your cheek and you giggle, turning away from him but he tightens his grip around you to keep you near.

His hands rub up and down your back and you look down to meet his eyes. He moves closer so that your foreheads touch, noses grazing each other. You close your eyes with a soft smile, basking in the presence of Miguel. He keeps his eyes open, admiring the way your eyes flutter under your eyelids, eyelashes long and pretty. He glanced down at the marks on your neck and his hand went down to hold your thigh, bringing it around him. He wondered how many marks would appear in the next twenty four hours.

“I love you.” He whispers and it makes you open your eyes. He’s staring intently up at you, a certain softness to it while he gazes into your soul. You felt vulnerable. He felt vulnerable too. It was moments like this that mattered most.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, shifting yourself so that you could cuddle into his chest. You feel him adjust to the new position, his arms going around your shoulder this time as if protecting you. His hand rises to your hair, his nails gently scratching your scalp.

“I love you more.”

A/N: god if ur real, you'll send miguel o'hara on my doorstep ASAP

#requests ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 5

Cassian X Archeron Sister

Summary: Y/N falls into a routine and finds her place in the Night Court. Even gets to have a one on one moment with the renowned Spymaster. But her anxiety spikes when Rhys and Mor Bring Feyre back urgently from the Spring Court

Content Warning; Nothing comes to mind

Word Count: 3.1

Masterlist Chapter 4

The next few days I was able to fall into a routine. Mornings were dedicated to training with Cassian, where I could feel my body getting stronger little by little. The more I trained, I found that the nightmares were kept at bay. Lunches were spent with Rhys. He was casually asking me questions about Feyre. Her favorite color, if she had any favorite meals before we lost our fortune, any embarrassing stories I could share. Along with that he would lay out the King of Hybern’s plan and how he wanted to take the Human lands back. He gave me more information than Tamlin and Lucien were willing to share.   Then Mor would take me to the closest café before we explored the town and all the shops.

After a long day of working out Mor made sure to take me clothes shopping to make sure I had a sufficient wardrobe even though we had gone shopping the day before. My hands were full of the bags from today’s excursion as walked toward the dimly lit sitting room of the town house. Azriel was lounging on the sofa staring at the fire in quiet contemplation, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “Hey, Az.” I dropped the bags and his head moved toward the thudding sound. He tilted his head, his mouth pressed in a tight line as his gaze met mine, a silent question in the air. “Mor made me buy every item that I glanced at for longer than 5 seconds.” He huffed out a breathy laugh, but I noticed how his shadows perked at the sound of the blonde female’s name.

Azriel lips quirked, and he reached over to the end table of the sofa and grabbed an empty glass and filled it with the Amber liquid and held it out for me patting the spot next to him. I dragged my feet over to him and grabbed the drink in thanks for taking a seat on the other end of the sofa, my back resting on the arm rest where I’m facing the spymaster. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with the Spymaster, he had been out doing some missions and I only got to see him in passing. “Thanks!” he nodded and clinked his glass with my own. I took a sip and let the burn of the amber liquid warm my throat. I watched as the shadows swirled around his shoulders and his wings; they were magnificent. “Have you always had your shadows.

Azriel took a sip of his drink, “For as long as I can remember.”  He looked at me mischief in his eyes as a breath of cold kissed the back of neck and both of my wrists. Looking down at the sudden temperature change I found his shadows swirled around my arms like the night mist kissing my skin and tickling the back of my neck causing me to giggle. I lifted my free hand and watched as the shadows slid around my arm and through my fingers the scent of citrus and the night breeze wafted through my nose.

I was entranced by their movements and the sensation of them along my skin, “They’re so beautiful.”

I could feel the sofa move and I didn’t need to look to see he was shifting, not used to the compliment I paid his shadows. Though he whispered through his glass, “Thanks,” throwing back the rest of the liquid. He didn’t even flinch from the burn of the alcohol as I tore my eyes from the shadows that were now settling into my hands. Azriel stared back into the fire, his hand idly twisting his glass around his knee. The firelight accentuated the white scars covering his hands. Cassian left out how Azriel got those scars when he talked about how he and Az met, and I would never pry, but he looked glum. There was a haunted look gracing his features and it unsettled something deep in me.

I set my own glass down the whiskey long forgotten and scooted closer to Az. I was about to reach out and looped my arm around his and I caught how he tensed at my reached-out arm, and I retracted my arm the shadows pulling it in protest. As if they wanted me to reach my hand out. “I’m so sorry, Azriel,” I scooted back from him. The shadows left my arms and returned to their master. “I should have asked if it was ok to touch you.” I sighed and looked up at the ceiling guilt building in my gut. “I tend to want to link arms or hold hands or hug anyone who may be feeling sad. I’ve never been good with words but when I sense someone’s sad,” I looked at Azriel, “Or brooding.” Az snorted, but I pressed forward, “Feyre was never one to talk about her feelings including hard messy feelings, but I always knew when she needed me to hold her hand or be nearby. Apparently knowing I was there good enough for her.” Az nodded his head as in understanding.

I scooted once more to create more distance and clasp my hands together and looked at the fire letting the silence blanket us. My thoughts went back to Feyre and how lonely and afraid she might have been feeling. The anxiousness she might be feeling thinking that I’m dead. She was already falling apart while I was there, Tamlin happy to let her wither away. I closed my eyes and tried to level my breathing. The new month was approaching, and I would be able to see her. Would she be angry that I wasn’t dead or think that I ran away and abandoned her. What if she thou-

I blinked once, twice, and was able to acknowledge that a scarred hand over my clasped ones. The softness of them going against the raised skin covering them along with the warmth they provided. The warmth contrasted with the cool kisses his shadows skittering over my cheeks I finally met the Hazel eyes of Azriel that were so much like Cassian’s but different he had more flecks of green. “Your heartrate spiked; you were thinking so hard It was as I could see every thought that appeared in your head.”

Slinking one hand out of his grasp keeping one hand in his deciding the intertwining my fingers with his. There is a silent moment before he weaved his fingers through mine.” I smiled looking back at our entwined hands. “You remind me of Cassian you know.” My head snapped back to the Shadowsinger and he smiled, “When Rhys and Cass found me, and then tormented me like the pricks they are. Whenever I was stressed or scared, Cass would always put a hand on me should or bump shoulders with me. Especially In those first few months when I was free from my imprisonment. He always wanted me to know that he was there and that he had my back.” He gave me another small smile, “Because he knew that I didn’t talk especially big messy feelings.” I smiled as he threw my words back at me.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, “He’s a good male.” I whispered.

He pressed his cheek against the top of my head, “You’re a good woman, Y/N.” I felt the shadows swirl around our entwined hands, “You’re a good sister.”

I closed my eyes for a breath moment and let his scent calm me. “I wish that were the truth, Az.” I lifted my heads and gave him a small smile, “What kind of sister lets her twin get her neck snapped?” I yawned and was met with his concerned look, and I waved him off. “So, Mor’s pretty huh?”

Az groaned and leaned his head on the back of the couch, “Have you always been a busy body like this?”

I smiled at him, “For as long as I can remember, Shadowsinger.” I threw his words back at him. “Don’t worry. I won’t press you on it. She is gorgeous but that’s coming from a plain human girl. Everyone here is extremely pretty.” He rolled his eyes but gave her a smile. “I’m heading to bed, the last thing I want is for Cassian to make me run for being late.”

“Or have water splashed on you in bed. He’s notorious for that.” I snorted to myself, “I’ll be joining you guys tomorrow. Not that you mind the alone time with our general.” Heat crept in my face, “I just want to get some training in before I’m heading out again.”

“You’ll be a nice addition.” I bite my lip, “Do you like your position, Az?”

Azriel furrowed his brow, “I do. Why do you ask?”

I shrugged, “It just seems like being Spymaster can be lonely. I know you have known the Inner Circle for centuries, but if you ever want to talk, I’m around.” I blow him a kiss, “Good Night, Spymaster.”

“Good Night, Y/N.”

***

The next morning, I stepped out in the blazing sun to see the two Illyrian’s shirtless and sparring. Sweat coated both of their brows. Two predators were circling around ready to strike and I could not help but stare in awe. Azriel’s eyes flicked to me and back to Cassian whose back was to me his wings tucked back tightly, hair up in a bun. Azriel shifted his features into one of worry and Cassian spun in my direction and he immediately recognized his mistake. Azriel took the opportunity to strike fist hitting the middle of his back, Cassian barely flinched in pain.

He turned back to the Shadowsinger and went in straight for an attack. Punch. Dodge, sweep of the leg, The way Cassian fought was like the way Nesta would dance on the ballroom floor and there was a pang of sadness that hit my chest at the thought of my sister. I wondered if either of them missed me or Feyre. I honestly doubted it as they never really cared of my presence before so my absence would not make a difference doesn’t mean that I didn’t miss them and wished for Elain to brush my hair or Nesta to read me a story like they did when we were small.

A grunt pulled me from those thoughts to find Cassian putting Azriel in a chokehold, Cassian’s wings flared in triumph. “You gonna tap, Az.”

Az smirked and gave me a playful wink, “Not a chance.” Quickly Az stuck his leg and wrapped it around Cassian’s knee and twisted his body and Cassian found himself on his back and Cassian had just enough time to tuck his wings so that it wouldn’t scrape going down. Az in a snap had his hand to Cassian’s throat keeping his wings tucked.

Cassian’s eyes shifted toward me ever so slightly and an idea bloomed in my head. I gave him a wink and made a show of stumbling causing. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off his prey, and I let the world tilt on its access and collapse on the floor the sun blazing on my cheeks and behind my eye lids. I could hear feet shifting and shuffling. A scarred hand grazed my cheek, “Shit, Y/N” Panic laced in his voice, and I opened one of my eyes to see Azriel flaring his wings to block the sun from my face.

Azriel gazed back at me in a daze and Cassian placed him back in a headlock. Azriel eyes shone shock. “Do you yield, Shadowsinger?” I teased a playful smirk gracing my lips.

Azriel reluctantly tapped Cassian’s arms and the General released his friend. “You’re an evil little thing, Archeron.” Azriel rose and walked over to the water station. I remained lying down and enjoyed the sun on my face.

Shadows blocked my sunlight and then Leather and Sandal wood wafted over me. “What a clever little stunt you pulled, Princess.” I opened my eyes to see Cassian, basically touching his nose to mine. His eyes gleamed brightly and there was a sense of pride in his face, a smile wide across his handsome tan face. “Clever wicked, Woman.” He whispered, nudging his nose with mine and I smiled placing my hands on his chest and lightly pushing so I could sit up. He got to his feet and held out a hand,

I placed my hand in his and he hoisted me up and I stood up with such speed I ran into his chest. He wrapped an arm around my waist, to stabilize me, “You, okay?” He asked concern worn on his features.

I nodded and the General released me from his grasp. “I have to say I was hoping you would get what I was trying to do.” He chuckled as he put his shirt back on.

“Oh, he got it alright, He will always find a reason to cheat. Since we were children.” Azriel grumbled. Handing some water to his brother.

Before Cassian could argue Mor ran through the door with urgency, her eyes scouring until her brown eyes locked on mine, “Y/N we have a problem. Tamlin locked Feyre in a manor, she freaked out. Rhys could feel her pain, her fae power erupted. I brought her to Rhys.”

A hand slid around my waist, as the words sank in. “Is she okay?”

Mor’s lips formed in a tight line, “She’s unconscious but we got her out of the manor.”

My hand slid over the one on my waist to ground me. “Where is she?”

“Rhys took her to the House of Wind.”

“Cassian.” I whispered.

Cassian had me in his arms in an instant, “Hang on.” He instructed me and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he shot to the sky. My grip on him tightened and I closed my eyes as the speed we were going made my eyes water.

Time moved slowly even though Cassian was flying at rapid speeds. Feyre was alone when she was abandoned by Tamlin, and I wasn’t there. I am no better than Tamlin leaving her on her own. “Stop.” Cassian gritted. I opened my eyes, “Its not your fault.” He said as he landed on the balcony of one of the rooms. He placed me down and I was about to run find Rhys when his hand gripped my arm, “Princess, listen to me.” I paused, “This. Is. Not. Your fault. Tamlin did this, not you. You don’t need to shoulder this burden.”

I bit my lip and gave him a curt nod; the General released my arm and I darted to go find Rhys. I ran through the hall and followed the pull that I always have for my sister. I slammed open the door and Rhys stood his eyes rimmed red. “Y/N.” His voice was drowned out by my sister’s unconscious body. Her breath rising and falling.

Y/N, she’s fine. She had a major panic attack. She’s just sleeping it off.

I sat at the foot of the bed and gripped my sister’s ankle and rubbed my thumb. Her chest rising and falling in even Rhythm.

“Y/N did you eat?” Rhys asked, his voice hoarse.

“Rhysand.” I whispered and his hand gripped my shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze, “Shut up. I just want to be with my sister.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Stay.”

Rhys moved a chair next to the one he was sitting on, a purple lounge chair a chair that could accommodate wings. “That chair is yours when you want to move. I’ll go bring you some food.” I nodded as he walked out and shut the door behind him.

Once the door closed, did I let the tears fall as I squeezed her ankle, “Feyre, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

I sighed and moved to the chair and sat there while I watched her chest rise and fall afraid if I look away she’s going to stop.

***

I was sitting on the large chair Rhys left for me, my knees tucked to my chest watching the rise and fall of Feyre's chest. I hadn't kept track of the hours and meals missed, just the even breathing of my slumbering sister. I could feel Rhys behind me he had not been able to sit down, and they came back from the Spring Court. I lifted my arm out of my palm open. Rhys slid his hand into mine. "She'll be okay, Rhys."

 "I know," His voice was hoarse. I felt his lips abnormally dry on the top of my hand, "Get some sleep. She's not going to wake up anytime soon."

"I'm fine." I leaned my head on the back of the chair.

There was a prolonged silence, Rhys's thumb swiping the top of my hand when there was a knock on the door, and door creaked open and a familiar deep voice filled the room, "Y/N, can I steal you?"

 I didn't look at Cassian focused on Feyre's pale gaunt face guilt overriding my system, "No, I won't leave her." The door shut, and Rhys released my hand. Boot thudded on the tile, and I could feel the General's gold flecked eyes on me.

"Princess, you need to sleep."

A tan hand tucked a strand of hair behind me, "I can't leave her. Not when this is my fault." My voice was hollow to my own ears as I reached out and stroked my sisters, overheated cheek and leaning back.

 A sigh rang in the room, and strong arms lifted me from the chair, and before I could protest, Cassian was sitting where I was adjusting his wings in a comfortable position and placing me on his lap. “What are you doing?”

His toned, muscled hands tucked me close, and he maneuvered his wings to provide warmth “I know when I’m not going to win a battle. So, I’m compromising.”

The comforting smell of Leather and Sandalwood flooded my nose, and calm and exhaustion ran through my bones. I stilled and whispered, “Why?”

 Cassian pressed his forehead to mine and whispered, “You take care of all your loved ones. Someone needs to take care of you. Someone to remind you this is not your fault, and you shouldn't punish yourself because of what happened. Rhys is here. You are not the only one who wants and can take care of your sister." He pulled away, and I finally met his gaze. He patted his shoulder, indicating where I should lay my head, and I obeyed the silent command. "Good, now close your eyes, Princess." I did and let the sounds of the fire pull me under, and I swore I felt gentle lips upon my forehead.

***

Cassian POV

The steady heartbeat of Y/N's chest almost lulls me to sleep when Rhys softly speaks, "I'm going to need you to go to Windhaven."

I softly swore working hard not to wake up the sleeping woman in my arms, "Are you kidding me?"

Rhys looked exhausted and rubbed his face, "We are going to need the Illyrians you'll need to spend some time there to make them more willing to join the cause." I formed a tight line on my lips. "It's bad Cass."

I adjust my arm so that I could cradle Y/N's head as she adjusts and sighs contently. "What about Y/N and Feyre?"

Rhys looked at the woman in my arms, "Y/N will be training with Az he's coming home tomorrow. Feyre, will need time and I'll take care of her. Though Y/N is going to fight me on it."

I chuckled, "Probably. She loves fiercely and she's so protective of the people she loves."

Rhys gives a waned smile, "Just like someone else I know."

"Prick."

"You love me." Rhys leaned against his chair. "Rest Cass, you'll need your strength"

"You too, Rhys." and I took in the sweet Jasmine scent of Y/N and placed my head against the head rest and fell asleep, with Y/N tucked tightly in my arms.

Chapter 6

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @chessebookgirl

#cassian x reader #cassian fanfic #cassian acotar #cassian x you #acotar #acotar fanfiction #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #archeron sister #cassian imagine #cassian acosf #unwaveringpresence

[harrysfolklore]

love on tour memories - blurb

goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. you were bigger than the whole sky 😢 here’s a compilation of love on tour memories, some blurbs are new and some were already posted, i hope you like this trip down memory lane

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

september 4th, 2021 - las vegas, nevada

Feather boas, pink hats and colorful flags all around could only mean one thing.

Harry Styles was finally back on tour.

After a long two year wait, Love On Tour was finally hitting the road, with the first stop being the iconic Las Vegas, Nevada.

You were beyond ecstatic to say the least, being on the road with Harry was your favorite thing to do, and you knew how much he wanted to finally be doing his favorite thing in the world again.

You were roaming around backstage looking for your boyfriend, already wearing your custom red dress that would match Harry's outfit for the night.

"Love! You look stunning," Lambert's voice made you turn your head, "That dress fits you perfectly just like I knew it would." You blushed as you walked together towards where Harry was getting ready with his bandmates in a few minutes.

"You're too nice, Lamby," you smiled at him, "Is he going shirtless like I asked? I couldn't be with him while he was getting ready."

"He is, darling. He said your wish was his command."

You rolled your eyes with affection; and as if on cue, Harry entered the room exuding an aura of confidence and excitement.

He was dying to get on stage.

"Hey, love," he approached you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "Can you believe it? We're finally here."

You looked at him fondly, your eyes giving away how proud and excited you felt at the moment, "We're finally here," you repeated, "This is going to be the best tour ever."

Harry pressed a quick peck to your lips before turning his attention to the rest of his bandmates, who were gathered in the room.

"Alright, everyone," Harry announced, his voice full of enthusiasm. "This is it, the first night of Love On Tour," Jeff, who just entered the room with the rest of Harry's managers, let out a whistle in excitement. "Let's make it one to remember."

The band hugged quickly before walking down the corridor that would take them to the stage.

You walked by Harry's side, holding his hand and realizing how much you missed the tour life.

"Good luck kiss?" Harry turned to you as you reached what would be his 'soft goods' box for the next months.

"Wouldn't turn it down for the world." You smiled and connected your lips, and just like that he was off to the stage inside a storage box.

For the next two hours, Harry and his bandmates poured their hearts on stage for the first time in two years, and by the end of the night, everyone had the same thought in their minds.

This was going to be a tour to remember.

october 30th, 2021 - new york

Outside of Madison Square Garden, fans were lining up dressed in their costumes of all kind, excited to be part of Harry's fancy dress party to celebrate Halloween.

However, backstage at the arena you were was growing increasingly curious and impatient about Harry's costume choice, since everyone refused to tell you about it.

"I can't take it anymore!" You said, your eyes darting between everyone in the room. "Somebody, please tell me what Harry's going dressed as!"

Jeff chuckled, entertained by your growing desperation to know. "Oh, YN, you're in for a treat. Harry's going all out, you're going to be gagged"

"Come on, you have to give me something!" Your eyes traveled to Lambert, hoping he would crack up and tell you what you desperately wanted to know.

"Nope, and don't give me those eyes. Sue strictly told us to keep it as a surprise."

You rolled your eyes before standing up and walking towards the door. "Well, I guess I'll try to bribe him with a blowie again.

Everyone in the room laughed at your words, and before you could even reach Harry's dressing room you were intercepted by Harry's assistant Luis, who told you that he instructed him to keep you out of the room until he was ready.

You got into your own costume for the night, a fairy dress with wings and a crown, you put extra effort in your makeup adding glitter and some gem stones.

You heard two knocks to your door followed by Jeff's voice "YN, you ready? Harry is and he wants to see you."

"God, why is he being so dramatic about his costume," you opened the door as you spoke and once you were met with Jeff and his costume, you couldn't help but burst out laughing, "Who are you supposed to be?"

"Miss Anna Wintour, the Toms are going like this too," he shrugged and walked towards Harry's dressing room, you following behind, "Come on now, your annoying boyfriend is waiting for you."

"You ready love?" you heard Harry's voice from the other side of the door, not opening yet.

"Come on just come out already! I need to see you!"

And after a few more seconds of mystery, he finally opened the door and you were met with his blue dress and bright red shoes.

He was Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.

"Harry! This is- you look amazing!"

"Really? You like it?" he put his hands on his waist and tilt his head before giving a twirl and making you laugh.

"I love it, but I have one concern, tho."

"And that would be?" he looked at you questioningly.

"That skirt is too short! You're going to flash your bits to everyone!"

"Well, my love," he grabbed the hem of his dress, pulling it up, "That is what the bloomers are for!"

june 18th, 2022 - london, uk

"How do you feel, mate?" Jeff asked Harry as they stood together on the wings of the stage, Mitski was just done with her set and Harry was already on his outfit for the show, minutes away from hitting the stage.

"It's a weird feeling somehow," Harry turned his gaze to his manager and best friend, "I never thought I was going to ever be able to fill this place on my own, you know?"

"And here we are, two sold out shows!" Jeff threw his fist in the air as a sign of celebration and both of them laughed, side hugging as they kept admiring the crowd.

"Are you guys having a sappy sentimental moment without me?" they tuned their heads towards the voice called for them, that belonged to you.

"I was just about to leave, actually, I have to check everything's running smoothly before this one hits the stage," Jeff ruffled Harry's hair for a moment, "You lovebirds enjoy your pre-concert shag, see you out there!"

You and Harry rolled your eyes and shook your heads, all the times you got caught doing your shenanigans before the shows resulting in a constant teasing from your friends.

"So, how do you feel, rockstar?" you asked, getting closer to him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

"You know, Jeff just asked the same thing."

"Okay, no talking, straight to the pre-concert shag I guess!"

Harry laughed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you looked out at the crowd together.

"I feel great," Harry said, turning his face to the side to lock his eyes with yours, "Being here again and having you by my side is something that I thought would only happen in my dreams, so I feel great my dreams came true again."

"This is a time where I actually feel good saying that I told you so," you smiled softly, "I always knew that you were going to be selling out this places on your own, baby. And I'm so proud of you."

"I know," Harry pecked yours lips for a moment, "And that's the reason why I'm here, because you had never allowed me to doubt myself."

"You're here because you've earned it by working hard and pouring your heart out in everything that you do, there's no one who deserves this as much as you do."

Harry's eyes got watery at your words, and he grabbed youe face to connect your lips, expressing everything he felt at the moment with a kiss.

"10 minutes till show time!" One of the crew members announced, making you break apart.

"Go sing about fruit and joke about dads, rockstar. I love you."

"Love you more, lovey."

And with a final kiss to your lips he was off to perform, ready to charm a crowd of 80,000 people on his own, something that he never though he would achieve.

september 21st, 2022 - new york

Emotions were all over the place at Madison Square Garden’s backstage, the clinking of champagne glasses along with congratulatory speeches were heard all around the room as a way to celebrate the 15 sold out shows at the world’s most famous arena.

The grin on Harry’s face was evident as he thanked everyone who approached him to applaud his milestone, from his friends to the arena’s crew, and holding his own glass of champagne and wearing a small smile, his eyes started wandering around for you.

It was when he reached the now empty pit of the arena when he found you, just a few hours prior, the room was filled with feather boas, glittery hats and more than twenty thousand people who came together to celebrate him. Right now, it was just you and him, looking up at the brand new addition to the arena.

“HARRY STYLES. 15 CONSECUTIVE NIGHTS AT THE GARDEN”

Was what the arena’s brand new banner said, a banner that would permanently stay there, as a reminder of what your boyfriend had achieved.

“You know I wouldn’t have done it without you, right?” he said as he approached you, bringing you closer by wrapping both of his arms around your waist, leaning his chin of your shoulder “All these songs are about you, all of this is because of you, my love.”

You smiled, the feeling of elation increasing at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Turning around to face him, you placed your hands on his cheeks before you spoke “This is all you, you did this, baby,” you said while looking into his eyes, and the fact that they were glossy and watery told you that he was still very emotional about the night’s events.

“Maybe I inspired you to write the songs, but the words aren’t mine, honey, they’re yours. All the people who filled those seats every night, they were here for you, because you have impacted their lives in ways no one else could. You deserve this, and I’m so proud and happy for you.” You finished, feeling your own eyes getting watery, still holding his face between your hands, and pressing your foreheads together.

“I’m so damn lucky to have you.” Harry chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your jaw and then nuzzle your neck, you put your hand on the back of his neck and caress his hair, letting him embrace you and holding him right back.

“I’m the lucky one, I mean, not everyone can say that their boyfriend has a banner permanently hung up high at Madison Square Garden, right?” you joked, feeling his laugh vibrate against your neck before he pulled his face out of it, looking into your eyes.

“I love you so much, YN.” he said looking right into your eyes, and his expressed what he had just said, you could feel the love radiate from him.

He’s walking joy, walking happiness, walking love

november 5th, 2022 - los angeles

From the moment you were woken up by the sound of Harry's dry coughs, you knew it was going to be a hard day.

Harry had been feeling under the weather the last couple of days, and today he was feeling his worst. As a professional, he pushed through, thinking it was just exhaustion from the intense schedule on tour.

However, as the day progressed, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of sickness off his body. His throat was sore, and his head felt heavy and he could barely sing during soundcheck, making his bandmates and managers worry about his health.

"Baby," you called out for him, caressing his hair softly, "Jeff just texted me that the doctor is here, he's going to check up on you."

Harry didn't verbally reply, he just stood up and kissed your forehead softly before leaving the room, you following close behind.

You knew what he was worried about the most: having to cancel the show.

The doctor examined Harry thoroughly and then delivered the unfortunate news, he had a severe throat infection and singing tonight could worsen it, so he had to cancel his upcoming shows.

He didn't speak, but you knew he was devastated.

After he delivered the news to his fans via an Instagram story, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed his cheek softly before speaking, "You did the right thing, Harry. Your fans love you, and they'll understand that your health comes first," you reassured him.

Jeff and Tommy, who were in the room too, nodded in agreement, "We'll handle the rescheduling and all the logistics. You just focus on resting and getting better," Jeff said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "I'm so sorry, mate." and with a final pat to Harry's back, they were out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Hey," you grabbed his chin, making him look at you, "Talk to me, love. What are you thinking?"

"I feel terrible, I hate disappointing the fans and I feel like I let everyone down."

You pressed a tender kiss to his temple again before speaking, "Your fans understand that you're human, just like everyone else. You're allowed to prioritize your well-being, and the fans will always be there for you, cheering you on, no matter what."

Harry gave you a tired smile and laid your head against your shoulder, and you felt proud of everything he does, even giving himself a break.

december 4th, 2022 - buenos aires, argentina

“Holy shit! Look at how packed that pit is already.” Harry said as he got a peek of the stadium, it was still early but fans were already inside and waiting for him.

“You know how much your fans here love you, baby. Tonight’s show is going to be crazy.” You rested your chin on his shoulder, looking at the crowd with him.

“It’s going to be one of the best, I can’t fucking wait.” Excitement was evident on his voice and you couldn’t help but melt a bit, the man you love was happy and that made you the happiest as well.

“They scored!” Anthony Pham’s voice made you turn your heads, a bunch of the crew members were watching the Argentina vs Australia match on a small tv, and the screams from the crowd just confirmed that their country had just scored.

“Wait, put the match on the big screens, let’s watch it together with the crowd.” Harry said and guys from the tech crew quickly put the match on the stadium screens, making fans grow excited.

By the end of the match and by a close call, Argentina won and the crowd erupted in cheers and screams, the entire staff celebrating too and hyping the crowd.

“Go celebrate with them baby! Go on!” you urged Harry to go on stage, “You know what? Fuck it!” and he ran to the stage and hyped the crowd, celebrating the victory with them

Argentina gave him one of his best tour memories already and the shows were still yet to happen.

february 20th, 2023 - perth, australia

“How are we feeling in here tonight Perth?” Harry said into the mic, looking out at the crowd cheering and screaming for him, “It’s been about 5 years almost since I last performed in Australia, feels so good to be back.”

The crowd erupted in cheers and screams, and you watched fondly as he moved around the stage.

“YN, my girlfriend, she loves to research each country we visit before the show," Harry pointed out to you and the nerves instantly hit you, despite being with him years, you still weren’t used to the spotlight and the attention. "She told me about some… peculiar traditions you guys do over here, like drinking out of a shoe.” Harry said and the audience went wild along with you, you knew his fans had been trying to get him to do a shoey since the last time he performed in the country and you insisted that he needed to finally do it.

“This is one of the most disgusting traditions I’ve ever heard of,” he paused to shake his head, “Fuck it,” and he proceeded to take his shoe off, making the entire audience roar in cheers.

“Can you do a Shoey with water or is that against the rules? YN?” the camera zoomed into you, putting your face in the big screens across the stadium, you couldn’t help but laugh and yell your responde, “She says no! Okay let’s just get this over with.”

And next thing you knew, Harry was drinking out of his shoe and the entire stadium was erupting in screams.

“I feel like a different person…I feel ashamed of myself. It feels so personal! Such an intimate moment to be shared with so many people!” at this point your belly hurt from how much you were laughing, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh as well, “I’ll be discussing this with my therapist at length…at length! And YN, you’re a terrible girlfriend for making me do this!”

Even though you were aware of the cameras catching your every reaction, you rolled your eyes with affection and jokingly flipped him off, making him blow an obnoxious kiss your way.

“Now, who’s ready for more music?”

march 26th, 2023 - tokyo, japan

“Everyone who knows me, knows how incredibly special this country is to me. I came here a few years ago for 5 days, and stayed a LOT longer than 5 days. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me in my whole life.” Harry said, looking out at the crowd in complete awe, “I’ve always felt that my time in here in Japan was incredibly special to me & I would not be able to make those 2 albums if it wasn’t for that time. So thank you the people of Japan for whatever it was that you gave to me. I will love you for it forever”

You couldn't help but shed a few tears, adoration running through your veins for the man who was currently closing up one of the most special legs of his world tour.

"However, unlike the last time I came here, I'm not on my own this time, I'm here with this incredible band who gives me the honor to play with them every night, the amazing crew who makes every show possible, and most importantly," he put a hand to his heart before continuing, "I'm here with the gorgeous woman I get to call my girlfriend, and I feel like the luckiest man in the world for that."

It was safe to say that you were full on crying by now, aware of fans and cameras catching your every move but not ashamed to be vulnerable because of the man you loved.

Harry turned to look at you on the side of the stage before speaking again, "I love you so much, baby, thank you for being my muse and my best friend, none of this would be possible without you."

And as if it was the first sentence you ever learned, you instantly mouthed and "I love you to Harry, making him grin and blush before speaking into the mic again.

"Thank you, Japan! I love you."

june 10th, 2023 - slane, ireland

Today was a day for the history books. Harry was going to make history as the first artist to ever perform in the iconic Slane Castle as a main performer for his own tour since 1985.

He brought up that he was offered the chance while you were snuggled in bed, listening to soft music that played from Harry’s record player.

“They offered me to perform at Slane Castle. You know, that venue where the only way to perform is if you get invited by Lord Henry.” Harry said casually as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Baby! That’s amazing!” you said in a cheerful tone, but the way Harry pursed his lips made you guess what was going on in his mind, “Don’t tell me you’re second guessing this, it’s a great opportunity.”

“I know, I know,” he said, pecking your forehead softly before continuing, “But everything’s pretty intimidating, there’s a lot to live up to.”

“And you will absolutely crush it. So call Jeffrey right now and tell him to book the gig.”

And so he did. And now, you were leaning on his dressing room’s vanity table, watching as he got ready for one of the biggest nights of this career.

“How do you feel?” you asked softly, you knew that his nerves always kicked in during this time.

“Nervous, happy, excited,” he turned to you, giving you a soft smile and tender eyes, “I just want this to be a memorable show, I don’t want anyone to leave the venue feeling like the show wasn’t good enough.”

“Everything’s going to be fine, gorgeous,” he smiled at the pet name, one of his favorites that you use for him, “Every single show that you’ve done ever since you were sixteen has been absolutely incredible, this one won’t be the exception.”

And instead of giving you a verbal reply, he crashed his lips into yours, pouring all of his feelings in a kiss.

“Hershel, time to hit the stage!” you were interrupted by Jeff knocking on the door.

“Oh cut it out, Jeffrey. We’re in the middle of my pre show shag.” Harry joked, making you throw your head back in laughter.

“You have two minutes, you menaces.” Jeff timed his eyes, already used to your shenanigans.

Your laughs died down and you looked directly into his eyes, caressing the hair at the base of his neck before speaking, “You’re going to deliver an amazing show, okay?” Harry only nodded, letting you continue, “You don’t have to meet anyone’s expectations, you just need to be your loving carefree self and everyone will have the best night of their lives.”

He pecked your lips before speaking, “Thank your for that, and for just being you, honestly,” he shook his head for a moment, “I wouldn’t have the courage to go out on stage every night if it wasn’t for you.”

“You would. Because you were born for this. Now go make me proud, rockstar.”

And with a final kiss to your lips, he was off with his band, ready to hit the stage of one of the most important nights of his career.

july 22nd, 2023 - reggio emilia, italy

The time had come to say goodbye to Love On Tour.

Surrounded by Harry's family and friends, you stood in the VIP area of the field watching Harry perform the last show of his biggest tour.

The night had been incredible so far, Harry pour his heart out performing just like he had been doing for the last two years, making the show extra special by adding new songs to the setlist and letting the crowd know how thankful he has for everything given to him.

"I will remember this evening and all of this for the rest of my life. Thank you for letting me be a part of this, thank you for dedicating your time to me, thank you for listening to me. Thank you for being amazing. Thank you for everything." Harry said into the mic, beginning with his final speech, one you knew would make you tear up.

"I have people here tonight who have supported me in so many ways over the past 13 years in which you can only imagine. I would not be on this stage without them and their love and support. My family are here tonight, my friends are here tonight," Harry's voice cracked up and his eyes got teary, making everyone in the crowd tear up along with him, "I was doing so well! Thank you for the support, thank you loving me for the way that you have. My friends are here tonight, thank you for having my back, always. I love you all so much. Thank you. I have a lot of things to feel incredibly lucky for in life but i feel the luckiest with my friends support. It allows me to do this. I am so full right now, I've never been happier in my entire life."

You held Anne's hand as you listened to his speech, both of you growing emotional at his words, just as the nearly 100,000 fans in the crowd.

"My girlfriend and life partner is here tonight, just like she was for all 169 previous nights, and all the most important moments of the last 13 years," eyes turned to you, but your attention was only on the man on stage, the one you loved, "I've said it countless of times before, but none of this would be possible without you. You're my best friend, my muse and my biggest supporter. Thank you for loving me, and giving me a love to write about. I love you."

You mouthed an "I love you" back to him, wiping some tears that kept falling from your eyes.

"Secondly, to you all," he turned to face his band, "Thank you so much for doing this with me, that you trust me, thank you for giving your time, your energy. This show is what it is because of everything you've done every night."

He continued his speech, thanking the fans for the same space they created over the years, and giving him the opportunity to be on stage every night doing what he loves the most.

After a 10 minute ballad written specially for the night, Love On Tour was officially over. But the memories created around it would last a lifetime.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles story #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harrysfolklore #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fan fiction #1k

[andromeda-nova-writing]

A Sticky Situation

Wriothesley x Fem! Reader

Summary: With the sticker count rising higher and higher that week, it has finally reached a point where Wriothesley needed it to slow down for his sanity.

Words: 1,766

AN: I love stickers. I want to join Sigewinne in her bet.

Wriothesely had found what had to be the fifth sticker he had peeled off of his jacket just that morning alone. Not to mention it was the forty-second sticker that week and it was only Thursday morning. Usually, this prank from Sigewinne and the other Melusine wouldn’t bother him too much. It was harmless after all. But Forty-Two Stickers??? All in the same week?

Was it always this many and people were taking them off for him without telling him in pity? No, he would have noticed that if that was the case. It wasn’t like Sigewinne also had more Melusine friends visiting her more than normal. Maybe he really was a bad influence on Sigewinne if her bets had gone this far. Hopefully, that would be the extent of his influence and nothing else.

The one question he couldn’t get out of his mind besides how they were getting so many stickers was, where they were getting so many stickers from. It wasn’t like they got this many stickers sent down here from the overworld or that Sigewinne had the time to make so many stickers. And he hadn’t seen many of Sigewinne’s friends come to the Fortress of Meropide that week. It had to be Sigewinne who was currently winning that bet.

None of it made sense at this point. And what didn’t make even more sense was that he just found a sixth sticker on his boot. Maybe it was time to at least slow her pranks down. He wouldn’t stop them but this was starting to get disruptive. At least make her understand not to sticker on the leather of clothes. It never felt like it cleaned off right. He just hoped by bringing it up the sticker amount would go down instead of jumping it up higher as a challenge.

Making his way out of his office he took a glance around his surroundings. A peak over at the cafeteria had him spotting exactly who he wanted to talk to. Sigewinne was talking to her pharmacist friend from the overworld, a lovely woman who had taken it upon herself to sub in to try and help give Sigewinne a break to join her Melusine friends in the overworld. It made Y/N quite helpful as well if Sigewinne ever requested a set of extra hands as she was more comfortable around the Fortress than anyone else they would send down.

She flipped through a book leaning down just enough to show Sigewinne without causing her to strain her neck. Whatever the two were discussing had caused them to laugh aloud. “Personally, this one is my favorite. Its eyes are bigger than the shark's body."

Yeah, that was different from the normal pharmaceutical talk he never followed along with. It's easy to lose track of everything being referred to in great detail due to its chemical composition. This conversation even a child could follow.

"I take it your lunch went well.” He said making his presence known. 

Y/N closed up the book the two were going through handing it off to Sigewinne before standing straight up. “It did. I brought some muffins I bought down to share. How’s your day going so far your Grace?” She looked at him and smiled.

His eyes followed the book that had been handed off. “It's been okay.” He looked back up at Y/N’s face. “What happened to you thinking calling me that was weird?”

“You’re working at the moment. I can respect the professionalism within it even if it feels weird to say. Sigewinne and I were just finishing up.” She bit her lip holding her smile from getting any bigger.

“Anything you need?” Sigewinne asked making sure that the plain back of the book was facing his line of sight. She counted the stickers she could still see on him. There were 4 left. 5 if the one she placed on his chair made it on him.

“Can you at least not place any stickers on leather?” He bargained.

“Hmmm. I don’t see any on leather.” He must have peeled most of those ones off already. Pity. 

“I’ve counted forty-three this week. At least twenty of them were on leather. I don't care as long as they aren’t on the leather. Takes too long to clean off right.”

Y/N covered her mouth trying not to laugh. “Fourty-three?” Sigewinne had to be in the lead for sure.

Wriothesley frowned. He really didn’t want to have to bring her into this. “And do you want to tell me what medicine the two of you have been going on about that contains a shark with eyes bigger than its body?”

Annnnnnd Caught.

“I should go back to the infirmary. Someone might have shown up by now.” Sigewinne excused herself before she lost what Y/N had come down to give her.

She looked down at a nonexistent watch on her arm. “Oh look at the time. I should go.” She tried to walk away towards the exit only for Wriothesley to grab her arm and pull her back. “I didn’t dismiss you.”

 She turned her head over her shoulder looking back at him. “I’m not working for you today.” “Doesn’t matter. What was the book about?”

“Nothing to worry about. You do see how inappropriate this looks to everyone else. I can practically feel your heartbeat against my back.” “You’ve given me hugs in front of inmates before. We’ll be fine. I’ll let go when you tell me what was in the book.”

"Cause you won a match in the ring. I was high on adrenaline." She rolled her eyes at the memory. "Don't tell me you enjoyed it." She teased. 

"Don't change the subject.

“I’m perfectly on topic. I don’t know what you are so pressed about.”

“Do you understand that anything that comes within the Fortress without my knowledge can be considered contraband?"

Y/N pulled out of his loose grip and began walking towards the infirmary. He followed right behind. "Contraband? You do understand that Sigewinne and I are free people who work and sometimes work here."

"I know that. I asked nicely the first time."

"Nicely? You manhandled me." “I think we are running off of two very different definitions.” He lightly elbowed her side. “I have a feeling you’d enjoy that anyway.”

She rolled her eyes hiding a small laugh that tried to creep into her voice. “Wriothesley.” She attempted to scold him.

“We can unpack all of that on a different day.”

“It would be a short day with nothing to unpack.” She sped up her walk. It was hard to take his flirting seriously when there was still a sticker in his hair. He’d benefit from keeping a mirror on his person if the stickers were becoming a problem.

Upon entering the infirmary, Sigewinne and Ottnit were flipping through the infamous book. Laughing. Plotting when to strike their prank next. The two Melusines were clearly enjoying themselves. 

“Hi, girls.” Y/N greeted them as she and Wriothesley walked down the stairs towards them. “I’ve been assumed of bringing in contraband. May I see the book for a moment?” She held out her hand as Sigewinne passed her the book. “You do know we aren’t inmates here.” Sigewinne frowned at Wriothesley. “Told him that already.” She showed the open book to Wriothesley. “Happy now?”

His mouth dropped in shock. “I trusted you. Have you been the one supplying them?”

“Stickers are cute. I’m just giving my friends a gift. I don’t think that's betraying your trust.”

“Tell that to all the sticky residue on my jacket and boots. It won’t even come off right.” He complained. “Twenty of them on leather. I’m just covered in sticky dust.”

The three of them couldn’t help but finally break out laughing. Y/N invested her money in the right thing if he was to look this cute pouting. He crossed his arms frowning in an attempt to save himself from turning into a dust ball at the rate it was going.

Y/N handed the book back to Sigewinne. “Ottnit could you get me some baby oil and a few cotton balls.”

“Sure.” She went off and bought back the supplies. Sigewinne went off, setting the sticker book down on her table before sitting on a chair watching the faces of the two infirmary guests. 

Y/N took one of the cotton balls and dabbed a bit of the baby oil on it. Ottnit took the bottle of baby oil back. She grabbed one of the sleeves of the jacket and peeled off a sticker he had missed. Wriothesley frowned as she placed the sticker on his nose.

“You are doing a horrible job helping.” He took the sticker off his face and crumbled it up in his hand.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “My grandpa was a leather worker. He told me if there was any sticky residue on any leather, take some baby oil and rub it over it with a cotton ball.” She said as she cleaned off the sleeve of the jacket. She handed the used cotton ball to Ottnit before taking a clean one. “Dry it off with another cotton ball and then it's good as new.” 

Wriothesley looked over the sleeve. It was a lot better than his attempts. He sighed. “This doesn’t mean you can keep placing stickers on my jacket or boots,” he told Sigewinne and Ottnit. They were going to keep doing it anyway.

“Nothing to be angry about now.” Y/N dropped the sleeve of the jacket and handed the cotton ball to Ottnit. Ottnit went and threw away the used ones before putting up the baby oil.

“I wasn’t angry.”

“Good cause I’m going to keep giving them stickers.” She reached up pulled a sticker out of hair and placed that one on his nose as well. “I think they look good on you Ri.”

He rolled his eyes before repeating his action from before. “I’m not sure if you know the meaning of help.”

Y/N laughed. “I really need to get back to the surface. This lunch break has been going on a little long. I’ll see you later.” She turned around saying her goodbyes to Sigewinne and Ottnit before leaving the infirmary.

Wriothesley hadn’t even noticed how his eyes hadn’t left her till she was out of sight.

Ottnit sighed shaking her head. “You were right.”

Sigewinne smiled knowing she just won herself even more stickers. “When do you plan on asking her out?”

His head turned over to her. “Forty-five stickers. You get no say in this right now.”

#Wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #Wriothesley #genshin impact

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

part 2 to ethan x camgirl reader where he orders another one on one and then they decide to meet up 🙊

I've been hesitating whether or not to make a part 2 for 'pretty boy'...here it is!!

Warnings: smut, masturbating, dirty talk,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

A few weeks later, after a difficult exam, Ethan decided to reward himself by buying another private session with his favorite camgirl. He had been forced to re-watching your regular videos lately, having missed most of your lives due to exams coming up. Now, his cock was half-hard, heavy and aching to be touched, and he could feel a slight twitch as he allowed his thoughts to wander to seeing you live — and having you all to himself — in less than ten minutes. 

The black screen turned on and Ethan jumped when you said his name.

‘’Hi! Ethan, right?’’ It was rare you remembered customers, but Ethan’s sweet face and doe eyes were etched in your memory. Along with the big cock he was hiding in his pants.

Ethan nodded, surprised you remembered him. ‘’Yes.’’ 

‘’Where have you been? I haven't seen your name pop up in my recent lives…’’ you asked with a slight pout.

‘’Yeah…sorry. I’ve been busy with school. College is though.’’ 

‘’Me too, honestly. Balancing weekly live sessions with college has been quite challenging,’’ you admitted, forgetting for a short moment that you were talking with a paying customer and not a friend. 

‘’Can’t you take a small break? School is important.’’ Ethan didn’t want to sound like a parent, he was just concerned about your well-being. It was sweet that he cared. 

You sighed. ‘’I wish. Unfortunately, I can't afford that luxury. Those lives are what pays my bills.’’ 

As the conversation continued, you reminded yourself to keep track of time. After Ethan, three more people purchased private sessions.

‘’Enough about me. What do you want tonight, Ethan?’’ You gave him a flirty smile, your chest bouncing as you readjust your bra to show off more cleavage. It was royal blue with cut-outs that showed a lot of skin under the breasts. All that was covered was a thin lace over the nipples and over the swell of the breasts. 

Ethan felt himself twitch at the sight, so fucking hard. He’d love you in sweats and a sports bra, but seeing you like this had him so hard he was convinced his pants were going to burst. He didn’t dare looking lower, embarrassed he’ll moan when he’ll see the matching panties. 

‘’Anything. I just…missed you. I’ve been jerking off to your old videos for weeks,’’ he admitted with a slight flush to his cheeks. He didn’t want to sound like he was one of those creepy guys who obsess over someone, he just really enjoyed watching you. 

You were flattered by his dedication and decided to reward him. ‘’What about I do something special for my special boy?’’ 

‘’S-special boy?’’

You hummed. 

In a way, he was your special boy. Among all of your past clients, you had come across some really hot customers, but no one ever stuck to your mind like Ethan had. He was sweet, handsome and didn’t reduce you to a material to jerk off to. He saw you as a person. 

Before him, no one had ever made you want to teleport through a screen. Most of the time, you were looking forward to the end of the private session. 

Ethan watched as you reached behind you, grabbing something. ‘’Do you like this one?’’ you asked, holding your newest dildo. ‘’I haven’t used it in a video yet, so this is an exclusive premiere.’’ 

He eyed the phallic object. It was one of those you can stick to a surface and fuck yourself on it. 

Ethan ran a hand through his hair and reached down to palm himself through his jeans to relieve the pain he began to feel with his other. He was excited to see it all inside of you, to see you fuck yourself on it and cum all over it. A rush of warmth went through his body and he held back a moan at the thought.  You had such a huge effect on him.

You set the dildo on the side. ‘’But first, let’s get you going.’’ You refolded your legs in a way that gave Ethan the perfect view of your panty-covered slit, eliciting an immediate whimper. The sheer fabric didn’t leave anything to the imagination. ‘’Are you going to let me see you? From what I remember, you’ve got a nice big cock, don’t you baby?’’ 

Clumsily, Ethan removed his polo shirt, showing off his toned biceps and chest, then he unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them to his knees, and shifted his boxers just enough to free his leaking cock as he watched you shift on your bed. You were so impatient to see it again, to watch him cum again.

‘’Mmh, so big and pretty,’’ you complimented, wishing you could wrap your fingers around it and stroke him — kiss it. 

Shaking off those thoughts, you trailed your hand down your body, and shyly, you slid your hand over your mound through the panties, teasing yourself as you held eye-contact with the camera. Ethan couldn’t hold in the groan he let out at the sight of the sheer blue fabric clinging to your lips. You were  already pretty wet, which is kind of weird since, most of the time, shows like these felt more like a chore than getting off. 

On the screen before you, Ethan’s hand was lazily gripping the base of his cock as he watched you tease yourself. He should feel shy since he was the only one fully naked, but you looked so hot in that royal blue set that he almost didn’t want you to take it off. You let out a soft moan and pressed harder into your fingers for more pressure.

You pushed your panties to the side and brought your hand to your soaking folds, coating your fingers in your own arousal. ‘’I wish it was your hand touching me,’’ you slipped, closing your eyes and imagining Ethan’s fingers on you.

His breath caught in his throat and his hand gripped his shaft just a little tighter. ‘’Me too.’’

You continued without realizing, lost in your own bubble of pleasure. ‘’I want to take your big cock all in my mouth and choke on it until you cum down my throat.’’ 

Your words had Ethan moaning, creating images in his head. He ached to tangle his fingers in your hair and drag his cock over that pretty pout of yours, smear pre-cum onto your lips before  showing his cock down your throat. You would look so pretty like that.

‘’I wan— I want you to split me open and fuck me so hard I can't remember my own name.’’

Ethan moaned again, so turned on he could cry. ‘’Yes, please.’’

The idea of him filling your pretty pussy, looking utterly fucked with those pouty lips and pretty eyes had Ethan palming his cock just a little rougher. God, he wanted nothing more than to have you — for real.

You shouldn’t be making exceptions and prolonging your private sessions, but you didn’t want to stop talking with Ethan. You wanted to keep talking to him for hours and hours. 

He sat there, in his desk chair, chest sweaty and breathing heavily as he recovered from his orgasm, thick ropes of cum still all over his chest. He should wipe himself before it dried, but his gaze was locked with yours, a soft, dazed smile on both your lips. 

You didn't look any better, sitting in your soaked sheets with your slick-covered dildo abandoned on the bed. 

After a moment of staring at each other, something you never expected to happen happened: you asked for Ethan’s number. It was a line you had promised yourself to never cross when making this account, but you didn’t want to risk not seeing him again.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #scream 6 imagines #scream 6