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#i just did that evening fainted and in every LINE there was his Name -
baddest-batchers · 3 days
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Learning All the Time
here is a Tech x fem!reader idea that’s been living in my head for the past few days. enjoy, loves~💕
SFW, brief description of kissing, fast feelings, mutual pining, lots of fluff
thank you @techwrecker for beta reading for me again and for the so needed encouragement to finish this and not scrap it!
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As a mechanic, it made sense for you to already know your way around a modified Omicron class attack shuttle. And you did, for the most part, but this particular ship that belonged to the most interesting batch of clones you had ever met was just as unique as they were. Tech offered a datapad to you containing the Marauder’s schematics with all of the modifications he had implemented thus far in between his squad’s various missions upon your arrival to the hangar on Kamino. Upon a brief skim of them, you realized there was a lot to memorize before you would even attempt to repair so much as a door panel. In the weeks that followed your joining of Clone Force 99, you dedicated most of your time to committing the ship schematics to memory, however, you noticed this was beginning to become more precarious with every moment you spent with the Marauder’s resident genius and pilot.
Since joining the squad of unique clones, you quickly realized just how much you enjoyed each of the Batch’s company, but in Tech’s presence was by far your favorite place to be. He was exceptionally brilliant, quick witted, and oh so endearing with the way he was constantly pushing his goggles back up his nose every so often. You were smitten with him, quirks and all.
Swiveling in the copilot’s seat you dropped the datapad to your lap and brought your fingers to massage your temples, hoping to knead away the growing haze in your brain. Your thoughts continued to flit to Tech as you futilely tried to study. You realized that you had spent more time day dreaming about him than committing the ship’s schematics to memory.
If he was showing you something he happened to be working on you listened intently to him and silently hoped he knew you were genuinely interested in his work. Assisting him on repairs was by far one of your favorite pastimes, though. More often than not, Tech would ask for your thoughts on a particular modification and then you would end up working on it together. It was butterfly inducing to be wedged under the panels of the Marauder with him. On more than one occasion you’d end up brushing up against his arm or your fingers would briefly make contact with his gloved palms while handing him tools. All of this was more than enough to distract you from your studies of the ship’s schematics.
You didn’t hear Tech when he asked you about the ship’s continuing issue with its inertia dampeners. Still kneading your temples and lost in thought, Tech said your name again and this time his voice pulled you out of your daydreaming.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You flinched, sitting more upright from your relaxed posture in the copilot chair.
“I asked if you had any thoughts as to what could be causing the issue with the inertia dampeners.” Tech replied as he turned to look at you in his seat.
“Are you quite well?” He asked, his entire body swiveling now in the pilot seat to face you while taking in your frustrated expression.
“I’m sorry, Tech, I swear I’ve been studying the ship’s schematics. I’m just—“ You let out a short breath, “I’m..a little distracted, I guess.” You say while swiping through the Marauder’s schematics once again and hoping that he couldn’t perceive the way he flustered you with so much as a glance in your direction these days.
“There is no need to apologize. Perhaps you should rest before we drop out of hyperspace and arrive at Kamino.” Tech said kindly.
Noticing his full attention now turned to you, your eyes found his face again. His eyes had that kind look to them that softened his faint smile lines. Before Tech could catch the growing blush that was starting to spread across your face, you hastily dropped your attention to the datapad in your lap.
“No, I’d rather stay here and continue to study, if that’s alright.” You offer back to him.
“And I promise I’ll figure out what’s wrong with the dampeners once we land, I just need to—“
“There is no need to do so right away, sarad.” Just as quickly as the Mando’a term slipped from Tech’s lips, he quickly turned his attention back to the ship’s controls. Before he could formulate an explanation for using the word, both you and Tech heard a familiar low chuckle from the cockpit entrance.
Crosshair’s lithe form leaned on one side of the entrance, arms crossed and a toothpick slotted between his lips.
“When are you going to tell her, Tech?” The sniper’s mirth was palpable. How long had he been standing there?
“Tell me what?” You looked from Crosshair to Tech.
“What did you call me, Tech?” You asked innocently, truly not knowing the meaning of the word he had used.
“He called you ‘sarad.’” Crosshair smirked while shifting his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. He was definitely enjoying this way too much for Tech’s comfort.
Your expression didn’t change, you were not very familiar with Mando’a, knowing only a few words much to your own surprise being that you’d spent a considerable amount of time around clones.
“Ah, well, it means—“ Tech began.
“It means ‘flower’.” Crosshair cut to it before Tech could uncharacteristically stammer out his reply.
Your jaw went a little slack in surprise and the only word you could manage to form was a quiet “oh.”
Tech shifted uncomfortably in his seat before shooting his brother a look of annoyance that Crosshair waved off as he walked toward the back of the Marauder.
Something in your stomach fluttered at the realization of Tech’s use of the Mando’a word and it’s possible implication. Before he could begin to speak again, you smiled and tipped your head to one side, trying to catch his avoidant gaze.
“Tech?” You called his name in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard his name said. A sudden burst of courage moved your hand to gently rest on Tech’s knee, stopping him from facing away from you. Butterflies soared in your stomach at the feel of him under your hand.
“You know how I said I was distracted earlier?” You said slowly, your newfound courage pushing you further. Hesitantly, you removed your hand from his knee while inching yourself to the edge of your seat.
“Yes, I do recall you saying that.” Tech affirmed, eyes dropping from your face to his knees that were mere inches from yours.
“Well..it’s you..you are what’s been distracting me the past few weeks. The way you talk about the things you are interested in, with so much excitement and enthusiasm. How you are always willing to teach me something new while we’re working together. How kind you always are with your brothers…and with me.” Your words hit Tech like a gust of warm summer wind on Kashyyyk.
“If that isn’t a clear enough confession then here it is, plain and simple: I like you so very much, Tech.” You finally say, after all these weeks of mulling over how fast and hard you had fallen for him. It was out in the open, the ball was in his court now, and your heart laid bare for him to see. You knew he could see the blush that had spread over your face and this made you drop your eyes to your hands that were now planted firmly just above your knees.
Tech’s eyes slowly drifted over your features, as if to be sure you meant what you had just said. He pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose.
“I rarely find myself at a loss for words, this time being one of few that I am able to remember.” Tech said slowly. While he had his suspicions, Tech was now fully faced with the pleasant realization that his own pining after you was mutual. It shocked him a bit at how quickly he had fallen for you and the circumstances surrounding your confession of affection was almost overwhelming him.
Looking up at him now in slight surprise, his admission pulled a soft giggle, a sound like music to his ears, from you which gave Tech the push he needed to finally close the gap between you.
Knees now touching, his thumb and forefinger placed just so on and under your chin, Tech tipped your face up ever so slightly so that your lips pressed gently to his. Warmth blossomed in your chest at his touch and kiss. You could hardly believe this moment was real. His mouth moved slowly, almost reverently, against your own. You brought your hands to rest on his chest plate, the feel of the smooth plastoid grounding you in this moment. You committed every sensation to memory. This was a moment you knew you’d never forget.
Tech finally, after what felt like a blissful eternity, pulled away slowly but not fully breaking contact with you, leaving his knees still touching yours.
“I believe my feelings for you to be mutual.” He said in a hushed tone, knowing Hunter could most likely feel the bubbling energy radiating from the two of you from the furthest corner of the Marauder.
You smiled at Tech while bringing your hand to your chest, feeling your heart pound inside your ribs. The silence was comfortable for a moment, just you and him looking at each other with love and admiration and mutual understanding.
After another moment, you finally broke the sweet silence, “Hey, Tech?”
“Yes, mesh’la?” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
This Mando’a word you did know. It meant ‘beautiful’ and his use of it made the butterflies in your stomach soar yet again and a smile form on your lips.
“What kind of sarad do I remind you of?” You asked softly while leaning just a little bit closer into his space.
With your question, Tech lit up into a detailed explanation of a flower he once encountered on a brief shore leave several rotations ago. His voice was so soothing and the kindness in his eyes shown even brighter as he spoke. You knew you would never tire of listening to him or of seeing his eyes shine for the rest of forever.
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skydreamplayzz · 1 year
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*Spark appears* "Twist! How have you been?"
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soobnny · 9 months
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request. you falling asleep on skz’s chest and telling them you love them for the first time in your sleep
sorry it took me so long, anon! but here is the request u sent me
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BANG CHAN
— it would be a little late in the night when you finally fall asleep, maybe around 11pm. it’s one of the rare days chan doesn’t allow himself to fall prisoner to another all-nighter (not that it ever bothered you, but chan’s been making effort in spending more time with you in the present instead of in his head)
— he definitely sleeps better with you, how could he not? with your head on his chest and your cheek a little mushed and your lips in a small pout and your ear to his heart. it’s perfect circumstances to sleep and your breathing is such a lullaby to him, and a reminder to ground himself in the present more to enjoy moments like these. you guys don’t get to cuddle often so it’s nice to take everything in when he can
— chan’s just on the verge of falling asleep when you say it and i think he wouldn’t be able to believe it first (talk about an instant alarm ?). he’d just blink down at you for a moment before the sweetest smile plasters on his face, the crinkled eyes until they almost disappear and lip biting type to stop himself from smiling too much
— his heart would just expand tenfold because you really are the person he sees himself with in the future and to hear those three words he’s almost told you a million times before leave your lips is just so reassuring and so beautiful to him; that you love him back, and he can’t wait to tell you in the morning
— when he’s finally processed it, he’d lean down to kiss you .. just every part of your face. but like, he’s so careful about it so you don’t wake up
— he falls asleep maybe half an hour later because all his life his mind has been running and running and running but with you in his arms, and those three words, he feels so safe that he allows his mind to rest. sometimes, it’s enough to just let his heart beat and love
❝ i love you. god, i love you too. i’ve been wanting to say it for so long now. ❞
LEE MINHO
— i think lee know’s def the type to know he’s in love first because it’s such a drastic difference to suddenly consider you in everything when he used to never do it before and he’s not oblivious to his feelings. like he’s the same but also so different ? little gestures of love would build up to his light bulb moment that he is so in love with you and he wants nothing more than to tell you but he doesn’t want to scare you off
— you stay over at his house when it happens. doing schoolwork? cramming for a paper? somewhere along those lines. you never notice the time when you’re with him and suddenly seconds turn into hours and it’s too late for you to commute home and lee know’s mom used their car so he can’t drive you home either. just proposes you stay over bc it’s not like you haven’t done it before
— you two always spend silence in comfort so he doesn’t know you’re asleep at first when you say those three words to him and the way you say it is so faint that he almost misses it. but he doesn’t. he hears it loud and clear
— his heart swells even more when he looks down to see your eyes closed and your mouth slightly parted and his response is just the fondest expression on his face. the most endearing smile and a finger brushing over your features because wow, this is the girl that snuck her way into his heart and unknowingly stole every part of him
— would brush your hair out of your face to see you properly before finally whispering that he loves you too. he’d say the three words the next morning.
— years later, he’d always brag he was the first to tell you that he loved you but you’d never know it was you. it’s a little secret he keeps to himself, and the moment is so intimate that it’s his only
❝ ah, (name). you’re all i’ve ever wanted, did you know? ❞
SEO CHANGBIN
— for changbin, i truly believe there is no moment of sudden realization. he’s well acquainted with love like i think he’s most in touch with that emotion. he feels so deeply and i think he learned most of that from his mother. he wouldn’t be afraid to embarrass himself in the name of love. in fact, he thinks it’s the greatest feeling on earth and it’s something you shouldn’t ever take for granted (i’m sorry, i’m a softie changbin enthusiast)
— everything is steady with him. loves you more day by day by day but he’s always known he’s been in love with you and nothing is ever overwhelming with him like it’s always so safe
— when you say it, he feels his heart beat 98383 times faster because what do you mean the person he’s so in love with loves him back ? like i feel like it just doesn’t cross his mind honestly. like he loves you and that’s that and he’s satisfied with loving you but suddenly his whole world just stops when he hears those words
— changbin would try to keep his position still though, even though he feels like jumping around and spinning you around in his arms but he just doesn’t want to shake you awake from your sleep
— spends the rest of the night thinking about you saying that you love him. there’s nothing more beautiful than the reciprocation of a feeling of love so great
❝ i love you, and that’s always been enough for me, but god does it feel so great to hear it from you. ❞
HWANG HYUNJIN
— he loves like in movies, in books, in art. despite being such a hopeless romantic though, everything is actually so new to him. it’s only with you that he experiences that shortness of breath, that jumble of words, that all-nighter because you can’t stop thinking about the person you love the most, and those damn butterflies
— even the first time you fall asleep on his chest, he freaks out. and he freaks out even after the 9183th time but who can blame him? he may look like such an expert, such a poet, such a man of love, but he’s nothing more than a boy who’s falling in love for the first time
— so, it is the 9184th time you’re asleep on his chest and he has a hand running through your hair when you mumble it in your sleep
— FREEZES. for maybe a good 5 mins? honestly it feels like forever because he really is frozen. and then, that music plays. the music when the love interest shows up on the screen in movies. it plays in his head and his heart is pouncing like crazy and it’s just such a moment to be in love
— pulls you closer when he finally recomposes himself and has the most lovesick smile on his face for maybe an hour before he allows himself to fall asleep because this is all he’s ever dreamed of
❝ you’re someone straight out of my dreams. ❞
HAN JISUNG
— to me, jisung feels a little reckless when he loves. but like, not in a bad way. it’s more like, he’s been careful his whole life and keeping on a guard because he values his silence and his comfort over everything else but god, when he loves? he jumps straight in. he jumps even without the guarantee of anyone catching him. when he loves, there is no doubt, no second guessing. he simply dives head first
— he’s falling again, falling and falling, it’s never ending. even as you fall asleep on his chest one afternoon after watching a movie together
— he JERKS the moment he hears you say it like actually just jerks from his place and accidentally wakes you up from your slumber
— you freak when you wake up thinking that something must’ve happened because he’s staring at you with wide eyes but at the same time, he’s also apologizing for accidentally waking you up. you’re just in the process of asking him about it when he cuts you off by kissing you
— when you kiss him back, there is nothing in his head but “wow, so this must be the feeling of being caught” because he’s finally landed safely in your arms after all that falling
— don’t be mistaken though, he’d fall over and over again because the feeling of having you catch him is so addicting
❝ (name), is this real? ❞
LEE FELIX
— oh felix, the sweetest boy who falls in love in the sweetest way. definitely is the type to see colors brighter and hear music louder and just have all his feelings amplify because of you. stars come together when you look at him and he feels himself revolving around you like he’s just !!! there is no explaining how deep this boy loves. it’ll be like fireworks, like earthquakes, like thunderstorms but it’ll also feel like breathing and the quiet patter of rain. you get every variant of love with him because he’s so adamant on showing you every part of him
— you two cuddle up to each other all the time. he loves skinship, he loves physical touch, he loves holding you and being held and kissing you and hugging you and everything that makes it feel like you’re close to him so he doesn’t question when you fall asleep on his chest
— he’s on his phone, probably taking a picture or video of you when you suddenly say it. there’s just instant tears in his eyes the moment the words leave your mouth. he cries because he’s overwhelmed that you feel the same way about him and he’s scolding himself for being so dramatic over it but also he seriously cannot stop crying like what have you done to him?
— smiles and cries and laughs and leans down to kiss your head over and over and over and you can only ask why his eyes are so red and puffed when you wake up and he wastes no time to tell you that he loves you. drops it immediately. he’s been waiting forever to say it anyway (actually, he’s said it quite a few times but only when he thinks you can’t hear)
— won’t stop saying it anymore like every hour is a good opportunity to tell you that he loves you
❝ i can’t get over how beautiful it is to love and it’s all thanks to you. ❞
KIM SEUNGMIN
— the peak best friends to lovers story. seungmin isn’t the type to throw the feeling of love around. he isn’t the type to fall in love quickly either. he falls in love in moments you spend as friends, but it also kind of takes him such a long time to admit it because he’s always rejected the idea of romance and the gentle emotions that come with it. he’s so used to teasing and tough love that he suddenly can’t function properly when he realizes he’s growing softer because of you
— seungmin holds out from saying ‘i love you’, mostly because it’s hard to rid the stubbornness he’s carried all his life, but don’t get me wrong. there are so many times when he’s almost said it but stopped himself before he could. maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to startle you either. it’s a scary feeling after all, and being his best friend, you know about all his flaws. how could you choose to love him despite it all?
— even so, he is still powerless to love. no one can ever go above the feeling no matter how hard he tries. when you say it in your sleep, he finally lets go of whatever he’s been holding on for so long. he’s ready to willingly admit he’s in love with you and has been for such a long time
— he runs a hand through your hair, just thinking of how comforting it is to be with you, of how you make him smile without even having to be there with him. just the thought of you makes him so happy and it’s infuriating because why does losing to love feel so much like winning instead? is it because it’s you he’s falling in love with?
— would ask you if you’re sure because he’s someone that values sureness, honesty, and just Purpose. he loves on purpose and he wants to make sure you love him by your own choice too. he’s always chosen to take every step closer to you all his life
❝ do you really mean that? please mean it. ❞
YANG JEONGIN
— time always slows when you’re with him. he also gives me romance between friends because like seungmin, he’s not the type to take love lightly. he only ever says the three words in important moments. he never wants to just throw those words around because romance is so important to him, and he’s always been the one to seek for it because it’s so beautiful
— when he meets you, he just thinks, so this is what love is. he understands now why people tell stories about it, why it’s subject to so many songs. he understands when he looks in your eyes
— it’s an afternoon of teasing where your eyes meet and you just double in laughter because whatever the hell you’re talking about is so funny to only the two of you. the boys will never understand the language you’ve crafted for yourselves
— you fall asleep after having played games and ran around and teased each other all afternoon and it’s in his arms while the two of you are watching a movie
— when you say it, he falls silent. he closes his eyes and crosses his fingers and prays he isn’t just dreaming this up, might pinch himself even because it’s just so unreal to him that you love him like he might be the Foolish silly type but when he loves, he really does give it his all
— you wake up at one of the louder scenes of the movies and you’re like ??? why is jeongin staring at you like that so you’re like stop staring .. but he kind of just grins really LOVESICK and you’re like oh my god what is happening. he’s looking at you different and his eyes are softer
— with a yank of your shirt, he kisses you and mumbles how much he loves you against your lips
❝ i love you. and i will choose to love you everytime. ❞
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voidst7rn · 3 months
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𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 - c. sturniolo
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chris x fem!reader
— warnings ; smutt, dom!chris, pet names (baby), oral (fem receiving), praise, swearing, edging, overstimulation, p in v, no use of y/n,degradation.. (he called you a whore.)
— summary ➞ chris always knows how to make you feel good, but this time it was too much and it lasted way too long.
— a/n ; i was half asleep making this it may be kindaa shit ignore that loll. also the smut part is like.. kind of abrupt so ignore that i had no idea how to do the build up at the time and i did nawwttt proof read so
you were laying in chris’ bed, waiting for him to come back from filming. it was around one in the morning, and the triplets had left to film a friday video since they had no more pre-recorded videos.
you were half-asleep, your eyes shutting before you heard the front door open.
the sound of footsteps and faint singing gradually got louder as somebody approached the room. chris’ voice got more recognizable as he opened the door, getting closer to the bed.
chris moves your hair out your face, leaving a light kiss to your temple, “you okay?”
you nodded, “tired.”
“what did you do while i was gone?” chris asked softly, making his way to his closet to change into more comfortable clothing.
“nothing really,” you said quietly.
“hm?” he hummed, looking back at you.
“sorry. i didn’t do anything, i was mainly just-“
“stop saying sorry,” chris interrupted, taking off his hoodie, “i start feeling bad.”
“i know, you tell me that every day.” the attitude was evident in your voice, possibly due to the fact you were half awake.
“what’s the attitude for?” chris said innocently, making his way back over to the bed, “did i do something?”
“i don’t have a-“
“shh, stop talking.” he leaned down to kiss your shoulder, sinking into the mattress in his usual position beside you.
he continued to kiss other parts of your body, getting you closer to the sleep you’ve been craving the past hour.
you don’t know how long you’ve been in this position.
your thighs were suffocating chris’ neck as he continued to devour you, unable to stop even after several of your desperate pleas.
you were up to what was supposed to be your fourth orgasm, if chris had let you finish. he would stop as soon as your grip on his hair loosened, your thighs stopped clenching around his neck, and any of the other signs he’s grown used to in the past couple months.
it felt so good, but you were so tired.
“chris, please, i wanna-“
he slapped your thigh, causing you to whimper in response. he continued his movements with his tongue. he didn’t have to use his fingers once.
you groaned once he pulled his face off you again, kissing the areas around your core. you began to grow frustrated from being denied your orgasm several times, sighing once it faded away.
“why can’t i just-“
chris looked up at you, removing his face from between your legs. he pushed your aching legs off his shoulders, starting to push down his pajama pants.
“since you’re so desperate,” he mumbled in your ear, kicking his pants off his ankles, “you don’t get to cum until i tell you to.”
you didn’t respond, watching as he pumped himself a few times, before lining himself up with your entrance.
“now you wanna be quiet?” chris whispered, teasingly grazing your entrance with his tip, “don’t you want me to fuck you?”
you slowly nodded.
“words, baby,” chris kissed under your ear, “i need words.”
“please fuck me chris,” you muttered, blinded by the pleasure you’ve been craving.
“good girl,” he praises, pushing his cock deep inside you. he gave you time to adjust before moving slowly, “feel good?”
quiet whimpers left your lips as he continued to thrust into you, his chest pressing against yours as he leaned over to fuck you at a better angle.
one of his hands moves to your stomach, massaging gently as he continues to stretch you out, “that’s it, baby,” he increased his pace, a loud, surprised moan escaping your lips as he hit that one spot he always manages to find.
you started to feel your orgasm building up, forgetting about his earlier words.
“i’m gonna-“
“no,” chris said, increasing the speed of his hips. he kissed your neck, “hold it.”
you whined as he continued to thrust into you, trying your best to hold in your upcoming orgasm. it was starting to become too overwhelming; it was too much.
“stop… just let me- please…”
“fucking whore,” he muttered, “if you want me to stop so bad you know what to say.”
you stayed silent, holding back your impending orgasm as chris continued to thrust into you, gradually getting more sloppy and out of rhythm.
“please just let me cum,” you whispered, thighs weak as he spread your legs even further.
“fine,” he muttered darkly, trying his best to keep an even pace.
with his words you came on his cock. he groaned from the feeling, pulling out and releasing on your stomach.
he brought his lips to your neck, leaving light fluttery kisses in several different spots.
“too much?”
you nodded.
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bywons · 3 months
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𝜗ৎ MIDNIGHT SHENANIGANS! (enhypen)
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⌕ it's midnight, and you both can't catch any sleep, what to do now?
𖦹 pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 2.1k tw/cw. skinship, nicknames genre. fluff ( CATALOGUE!? ) sru's note procrastinated big time on this one :) hope y'all enjoy this!
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heeseung (이희성) 、 both of you are bored, your favourite tv show no longer being able to keep you both entertained or make you laugh till your stomachs ached. it fades into the background, slowly becoming a faint backdrop noise for your half tedious and half weary bodies tangled with each other on the couch.
"'this season just got boring", you yawn, pushing yourself closer to heeseung's broad and warm chest while his hand strokes your back, "i wonder if the next season would be bett—"
"right now the only thing you should wonder about is to get some sleep", heeseung's bored interruption causes he formation of a small frown on your face as you sit up beside him.
"you know im a night owl, hee", you sigh, angling your neck up to meet his eyes looking softly down at yours, "hmm, why don't you serenade me? pretty boy?"
heeseung reciprocates your smirk and clears his throat to sing his lover to sleep, before he can get some himself.
or so he thought. his serenade attempt soon turned to a session of singing competition after you sang the next line to a song heeseung didn't really like.
the silent living room soon gets filled with heesung's serene voice and your attempts at singing, and every time heeseung has a voice crack you mock him, laughing and falling onto his lap. your silly little singing competition continues until you both fall asleep in each other's embrace in the couch.
but nobody thanks the tv show, which still runs in the background and serenades both of you to sleep.
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jay (박종성) 、 you thought your boyfriend jay wouldn't notice your absence or the slow sink and rise of the soft bed mattress beside him, and you would slip away from his loose hold and stand idly in front of the open fridge in the dark, totally forgetting your initial plan.
but then a sudden husky, sleepy, familiar voice startles you, "what are you doing there, love?"
the orange light emerging from inside the fridge illuminates your dull white tee, and accentuates jay's hands around the waistline of your joggers soon enough.
jay presses soft kisses along your neck, whispering, "are you hungry?"
"and bored", you huff.
"then let's cook something together yeah?", jay suggests before putting on his cooking apron and helping you with yours.
you have absolutely no idea on how to prepare the apple pie 'cause after all you're jay's girlfriend! he pampers you too much and cooks everything you like for you, so naturally you stood still in the middle of the kitchen, your time passing by yapping to your boyfriend and handing him the ingredients.
jay adds to your little rants, whilst single-handedly baking the apple pie, but with your little necessary helps tho <3
and when the apple pie is finally done, jay cuts the biggest portion for you, letting you taste it first.
the clock ticks by and the dull kitchen is filled by your hungry munching mouths and lovelorn eyes, jay and you enjoying each other's presence even in the boring hour at midnight.
this is bound to become a memory.
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jake (심자연) 、 "but i didn't watch la la land!" "but i did!"
you guys were supposed to select a movie to watch like an hour ago now, but obviously it can't go smoothly without your usual bickering.
the night grows darker and your usual bedtime is in the long past, it's almost 1 o'clock, and both of you just wanted the movie marathon night to be over already, but not without selecting a movie you both would enjoy. and that seems impossible at this rate.
"be so for real right now, what do you really wanna watch jake?", you are losing your patience by the minute now, you only ever call him by his name when you are either annoyed or fed up by him. your eyes are threatening to close any second and you want to either a) watch a movie and cuddle to sleep with your boyfriend or b) just give everything up and sleep already.
"whichever you wanna watch", hearing this from your boyfriend makes your temper rise even more. and alas, you both agreed on something you both hate— horror movies.
ah yes, bodies huddling together with eyelids dropping to make your visions blurry and indefinite, as if it would make the movie any less scary. jake's arms pull you into a close hug as he whispers, "i t-think we should skip this part babe", to the most important part of the story.
both of you flinch at the low growl from the monster like entity in the movie. and to even make the atmosphere scarier, y'all jumped and screamed— almost waking up the neighbours —when both of you mistook layla's bark as some monster.
"babe, i think we should sleep", and that marks the end of your movie night, not even 30 minutes into the movie and your bodies are covered by the white duvet, cuddling close to each other.
such bravehearts, eh?
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sunghoon (박성훈) 、 as soon as you step back after pressing the record button on your phone, sunghoon comes sprinting and sweeps you by your feet and twirls you out of the recording frame.
"ugh, hoonie!", you whine with upturned lips and kicking feet, with your boyfriend holding you up with his strong arms, "you entered at the wrong moment!"
"did i?", sunghoon was confused at first, but that expression soon wipes off his face when his eyes fall upon your pouty one. he smirks, "i don't think there's any wrong or right moment for me to pick you up in my arms, darling."
your twitching lips betray you. it opposes your expressions and matches your feelings, you couldn't help but smile down at your boyfriend who's already having heart eyes for you, and you feel blood rushing up to the tip of your ears.
"ok but do it properly this time hoon", you giggle. sunghoon lets you down to your feet, watching you run over to your phone again, resetting the tiktok recording.
this time you had to do it right, after all this can't go on till the sun peeks over the horizon and decides to wish you a good morning.
but as they say, third times the charm. this time the tiktok came out perfectly, just as you wanted to; with you looking over to the side before getting snatched away by your boyfriend in a lightening speed, and off the camera sunghoon presses soft kisses on your cheeks, soft hushed giggles filling the otherwise serene room. little affectionate moments meant only for you <3
and now the clock's almost hitting 1 am, hanged above your heads, under which the both of you scrolled past all the numerous, silly tiktoks you filmed. some with choreographies and planned lip syncs, and others just crack videos of you two, which the tiktok community will probably not see.
the night grows deeper and so does your love, but alongside the bag under your eyes </3
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sunoo (김선우) 、 the pink clay mask feels cold on your skin, as you srunch up your face while sunoo applies it on you.
"don't do that, it can leave wrinkles!",sunoo exclaims although he moves his whole face a little too much with the half dry clay mask sitting cold on his own skin.
"oh, so i see how it is," you sigh, making a face full of faux melancholy, "you will not love me anymore once im all wrinkly and old."
"you know that's not true", with a clink sunoo keeps down the applicator on the washroom marble top, he swears he would pull you in the most endearing kiss if you two didn't have this pink moist layer on your faces, "and to answer your question, yes. i would still love you if you were a worm."
"but i didn't ask that question?!" "i know you would eventually."
you smile ear to ear, small wrinkles forming on the corners of your eyes as they squint and curve. sunoo's previous suggestion is completely ignored by you, and he himself doesn't abide by it, striking you a bright grin.
this little skincare session could've waited till the sunrise but what to say, your boredom took over and the next thing you know is doing each other's skincare routine.
"i love this face mask. it's pink and lavender scented", you mumbled to yourself, picking up the container sunoo just put down.
"but i don't smell lavender?", a frown forms on sunoo's face quickly as he scrunched up his nose, smelling the container lid again. and when he snatches the container from you and reads all over it, his eyes circle into horror.
"wait", he whispers, his face falling, "....is this expired?!"
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jungwon (장정원) 、 "I can't sleep", you whisper while rolling over and practically letting all your body weight on your boyfriend laying next to you.
"me too", he sighs, tackling your body to his side of the bed and holding you close.
but the next thing you know is that you have your boyfriends blue and white hoodie on, standing in the middle of a random aisle in the 24/7 supermarket. you watch jungwon surf through the different snacks showcased in the aisle, and no matter how much he would compliment a different snack he would still buy the same chocolate strawberries.
"so what are we here for again?", sighing, you stand next to jungwon as he carefully reads the ingredients on the back of a cookie box, which you don't think will eventually make it's way to the empty shopping basket.
"weren't we bored? plus we can't sleep", jungwon mumbles and surprises you as he tosses the vanilla cookie box into the shopping basket.
"woah", your mouth forms an 'o' shape along with your eyebrows moving up, "what happed to the regular chocolate strawberries?"
"well i guess it's time for a change!", jungwon puts on a smug smile, knowing you despise vanilla cookies. but you are no better. you nod your head and your hands find their way to the mint chocolate ice cream box soon enough, "if you want vanilla cookies then i want mint choco."
"oh that's not happening", jungwon rolls his eyes, chasing after you down the aisle. "if you don't want it to happen then put down the cookies!", you give back an even meaner eye roll.
the supermarket total had six people inside it, including half asleep cashier and a punk teenager trio. they watched you enter and now they stood watching you both bickering, with jungwon insisting on the getting the cookies and you not letting go of the mint chocolate tub.
but at the end the basket is indeed carrying the chocolate strawberries to the counter, with your scowls turned into happy, content faces and bodies clinging to each other in the cold night.
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riki (니시무라니키) 、 you have been urging riki for as long as forever, to go on a painting date in one of those aesthetic eat and draw cafés.
but our guy riki is efficient. he agrees yes, but on a random thursday. at quater to 1 am. in your house. on the already messy floor. instead of preparing for your final terms next weeks, you are busy painting each other in the most hilarious way possible.
"this is gonna be the bestest portrait of you, ever", riki chortles as he gathers his knees upto his chest, hiding his canvas behind them.
"uhh nobody has ever drawn a portrait of me?"
"that's why i'm the best boyfriend", he says proudly.
you already know what's going on on his canvas. last time he drew you, you could hardly recognize yourself except your outfit. you expect quite the same outcome for this time as well.
"ta-daaa~", riki finally reveals his long awaited portrait of you. you giggle at it and crawl your way to sit beside him. this one melts your heart, on the canvas riki doodled you and all your favourite stuff— from sanrio characters to ramen bowls, cats, skirts, coffee cups to even a small nishimura riki at the corner. he chirps, "how is it?"
you reply to him by pressing a kiss to his cheeks, watching them turn redder by the second. "cutest thing ever", you mumble, resting your head on his shoulders.
riki ruffles your hair and presses his cheek on top of your head.
but of course, this beautiful moment had to be ruined because you can't catch a breathe. your phone rings with a notification beside you and when you take a look at it, your back is straightened and a scowl takes upon your face.
"really now?! they preponded the exam!"
"o-oh no baby when is it?", a worried riki asks.
"tomorrow is my calculus paper!"
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© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @aueyi @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaasia111
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904 notes · View notes
m2ok · 2 months
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Golden Salvation Pt.2
pt. 1
cowboy!Ghost x m! reader
A/N: There will be one more part to this just to wrap everything up :)
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Your pulse thundered in your ears as the stranger loomed closer, hand gripping lethal iron at his hip. Fight or flight instincts kicked into overdrive - this was no ordinary burglary; you could see it etched in every predatory line of his body.  
This man had come for blood, your blood.  
Slowly, you raised your hands in a gesture of peace even as your mind raced. One wrong move and you’d be pushing up daisies come morn. These were the dark shadows Simon lived in, the enemies he’d made through his notorious work. And now they were coming for him...through you.  
.“Don’t want no trouble, mister,” you said, keeping your tone calm and even like you didn't know why this man was here. As if there could be any other reason for someone to break into a home as dingy as your own. “Just a simple bartender is all – barely got a dollar to my name”  
This snake didn't need to know how deep your bond with Simon went, especially since hiding your relationship was the only way you could see to get out of this situation.  
The man cackled at your words, rolling his eyes as the smile dropped and he stalked closer to the bed, aiming the gun at you as he cocked it back with a sickening crack.  
“ Mhm... as if you weren't all nice and cozied up to him not mere hours ago – ya really think im gonna believe you?” He gave you a mocking grin 
 “No no im not stupid sweetheart. Im not here to collect any of his debts from you – I care more about the eight men o’ mine your Ghostie killed. Those boys were my family, he didnt think twice about that though when he shot em’ dead where they stood. Figure I should make him feel the same hurt I do, hm?”  
“You won’t hurt him none-” You tried to reason “His heart don't belong to me, he won’t spare a second glance past this cabin. Hell, He's probably halfway across the desert by now” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, lies seeping through your lips at the risk of your life. You knew what you meant to Simon, no one else was able to get into his space as you did- at least not if they wanted to walk away with their life.  
The man's smirk dropped, new anger burning in his eyes as the grip on his gun tightened, “I saw the way that mongrel looked at you, you’re his boy and that's clearer than any mountain river” he scoffed, finger moving from the side of the gun to rest on the trigger.  
You closed your eyes, praying in your head, but not to any god. No, your prayers were aiming for Simon's rescue, praying that he would somehow know you were in trouble and come rescue you from it. 
Simon sat astride his horse on a dusty ridge, watching the moon rise silver over the desert wastes. A half-smoked cigarette dangled idly from his lips; he’d been nursing the same thoughts over and over since dusk fell heavy as a shroud across the badlands.  
 Thoughts of you.  
Somewhere deep in his gut, an uneasy feeling roiled. Like an invisible string tugging at his soul, trying to tug him back the way he came. Simon growled low in his throat, frustrated with his own foolish longings. You’d made your stance clear – this life wasn’t for you, not truly. And he had no right to ask you to join him.  
And yet... 
A crack suddenly split the still night air. So faint and far that any lesser man may have missed it entirely, but not Simon.  
In an instant he was vaulting onto his horse’s back, boots pounding twin paths in the dirt as they flew towards the distant lights of your little town. Another shot rang out, louder now, and Simon’s blood turned to ice in his veins.  
He knew that sound – deep in his bones he knew something was horribly wrong.  
Choking the reins in a near stranglehold, Simon rode as if all the demons of hell were nipping at his horse’s hooves. Towards you. Towards salvation or damnation, he did not know. But by God, no son of a bitch was gonna harm one hair on your head if he could still help it.  
Help was coming- you just had to hold on.  
The man fired the gun, a sharp sting hitting your side before it blossomed into agonizing pain. You let out a pained cry, one hand instinctively going to land on your wound while the other covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. Your hand was soon coated in dark crimson, entire body shaking with adrenaline as the man cocked the gun once more.  
“Was gonna just end you, but I figured I should make this painful the same way he did. Should fill you with so many bullets he won’t be able to recognize you” he hissed, aiming the gun at your other side.  
Simon was little more than a blur of dust and primal fury as he crashed through the remains of your splintered front door. For a split second, time seemed to freeze – taking in the scene with a single, piercing gaze.  
You,curled onto the bed clutching a bloody wound. And him. That snake. Gun pressed sickeningly against your body as he spewed his venomous threats. With an almost guttural roar, Simon’s Colt leapt into his hand like it was part of his very being. Two blooming shots rang as one; his aim was true as bible scripture.  
The intruder pitched backwards, scarlets blossoms exploding from where his eyes once were. He was dead before he hit the floor.  
But Simon saw none of it. Already he was at your side, tatty serape ripped and pressed desperately against your weeping injury. Brown eyes wild and scared met your own, and for a moment the steely outlaw facade slipped entirely.  
“Darlin’...” he choked, voice thick. “Talk to me, baby. Stay with me now, ya hear?” Working frantically to stem the flood, Simon tangled scarred fingers gently through your hair, anchoring you to this world with his touch alone. 
“That’s it…keep breathin’, just keep breathin’” His voice dissolved into ragged prayers mere ghosts could hear. Help was still minutes away - but for now, you had Ghost. And he’d be damned before he let the reaper take you from him. 
You were sobbing, your brain mangled with confusion and fear as the adrenaline ran out and the full pain of the bullet lodged in your abdomen had you reeling, 
Red painted everything around you, hands, clothes, and sheets underneath you drenched in it. 
“Simon-” you rasped, breathing labored as you looked around with wide eyes at the gruesome scene in front of you. It was too much, you could feel your head going light- brain fuzzy and ears ringing as you fought not to close your eyes. 
“It hurts” you choked, trying to shove his hand away from where he was pressing down on the wound to stop the torrent of blood flowing out. “Simon I cant-” you said, throat raw from the sobs that came out. 
You wanted so badly to stay with him, to be able to wake up tomorrow with him, but you didn’t know if you’d get that with the way you felt your strength leave your body.
“It hurts- it hurts” You were almost begging, for what you didn’t know. You just wanted the pain to go away. 
You were terrified- not ready to die yet, and especially not like this, not when you had so much left to do. The thought alone sent a new set of tears streaming down your face, hand shaking- clutching the bleeding wound on top of Simon’s own to try and ebb the pain that burrowed deep in your skin. 
Simon felt his world crumbling as your agonized crimes tore through him, sharper than any bullet ever could. Seeing you in such anguish ripped open a fissure in his battered heart, letting the demons of his deepest guilt and self-loathing spill forth in a torrent. 
“I know, baby, I know it hurts…” he choked, pressing you close as if trying in vain to absorb your pain into himself. His own broad shoulders shook with ghosts of rage and grief, tears cutting rivulets through the dirt caked on his cheeks. 
Goddamn it all, he should’ve been here. Should have followed his instincts and never left your side. Now it may be too late to hope for forgiveness, your blood staining his hands a brand of failure he could never outrun. 
“Please, darlin’, please hold on…’ Simon begged, voice breaking as he spoke. His bandana was wrung out and useless now - in desperation he moved to cradle you fully, applying trembling pressure with his bare hands and what remained of his coat. 
Distantly he heard the clatter of the approaching horses, but paid them no heed. You were fading, slipping away before his eyes, and all the strength and guns in the world couldn’t stop it. 
“Don’t ye leave me now…I can’t do this world without ya…” A broken whisper, barely audible above the thunder in his ears. Simon pressed his forehead to yours, sharing the same ragged breaths, two souls more tangled than any root or vine. Hanging on a blade’s edge against the dark. 
You stared up into Simon's eyes, eyebrows cinched in pain and eyes soaked with fear. 
“I don’t wanna die, Simon” you whispered, voice shaky as you clung to him - like he alone could save you from this fate. 
You could feel your heartbeat slowing, breathing ragged as you gasped for air that just wouldn’t enter your lungs….
Soon enough the doctor burst into the room, medical kit in hand as he came barreling over to you. He very carefully took you out of Simon’s arm with some convincing, to lay you back on the bed before he opened up his kit. 
He handed you a flask filled with whiskey “You’re gonna want to drink this - it’ll help ease the pain” He said. 
With shaky hands you drank the bottle, a scream ripping from your lungs as the man began to carefully dig into the wound, grabbing hold of the bullet with sterile tweezers before carefully pulling it free. 
With practiced care he cleaned the wound, a harsh whimper leaving your lips at the sting of pain before the wound was stitched up and bandaged. 
You were shaking, sobbing so hard your throat was raw and your lungs burned - the pain was unbearable and a large part of you wished you could just die to get away from it. 
The doctor had you drink another flask, the alcohol numbing the pain receptors in your brain just enough to allow you to fall into a light sleep. 
Simon sat vigil at your bedside through what felt like hours, not letting go of your limp hand once. Your cries of pain echoing loud and endlessly in his mind, driving spikes of pure anguish deep into his soul.
He watched in heavy silence as the doctor worked, breath caught tight in his chest, hardly daring to hope. But then - your ragged breaths evened out, color returning sluggishly to waxen cheeks. Alive. You were alive. 
It was nearly two hours later when the man was done, wiping his hands on a rag as he stood up on shaky legs. 
“He’s stable” The doctor said simply
Choking back sobs of relief, Simon buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of gratitude-laced kisses amongst salty tears. “That’s it, darlin’...you fight. Got too much left to do in this world.” he’d whisper to you, voice so soft only you could hear
 “Most important thing now is cleaning that wound twice a day lest it get infected. If it does…” The doctor ordered, his words trialing off though his intentions were clear. He put down a set of bandages and cleaning solution on the nightstand for Simon’s use. 
“It’ll take a long time to heal, I reckon” The doctor said “but my work is done here, y’all know where to reach me should he take a turn for the worst” He said, tilting his hat to Simon before he gathered his tools and headed out of the shabby cabin. 
Simon took the doctor's words as gospel, nodding along to every word before the man left. He spent the next few hours cleaning up the mess that was now your little home. He dragged the body out back to deal with fully in the morning, cleaned your sheets and changed you into new clothes, boarded up the broken window, and finished by fixing the door that he had come barging through. 
His own hands were gentle as churches doing their appointed duty, cleansing and dressing the angry wound each time without fail. Whatever it took to coax your stubborn spirit back to the land of the living. 
Days bled into each other without notice. All that mattered to him now was you. And slowly, so slowly - full color seeped back, fever broke its hold. Eyes fluttered open to meet his own once more, full of pain but oh-so-blessedly alive. 
“Hey there, sunshine…” Simon whispered hoarsely, like a parched man dying of thirst at an oasis. Finally, finally, he allowed himself the ghost of a weary smile. 
You were going to be alright. And by God, he’d spend his last days making sure of it. 
You slowly sat up, a soft whine leaving your lips with the movements as you aggravated the still raw wound. “Simon” you mumbled as you held his hand, reaching over to take a swig of the whiskey on the nightstand to ease the searing pain. 
You rested your head back against the pillows with a soft sigh. It had been a few days now, and the pain was still a dull yet constant ache in your side. 
You took the sight around you in, everything was clean and neat including your bedding and clothes. Even the floor had been mopped, the only reminders of your near death being the hole in your side. 
“Simon you did all this?” You asked simply, eyes wide as you gazed up at him. 
Simon huffed a soft, weary laugh at your question, gently squeezing your hand just to make sure you were really here and he wasn’t hallucinating. 
“Course I did, darlin’. Weren’t about to let ya recover in filth,” He replied gruffly. Truth be told, tending to your every need had been the other thing keeping his demons at bay these long days and nights. 
Keeping busy spared him time to think - and thinking led down paths too bleak to tread. Like how terrifyingly close he’d come to losing you forever.
Holding your gaze with quiet intent, Simon softly brushed calloused knuckles along your cheek “Reckon it’s about time i started pullin’ my weight ‘round here proper. Ain’t no safe place for ya out here alone” A question lingered in the subtle quirk of his brow, the hopeful yet wary gleam in tired eyes. After all that had passed between you both, was there still room for him at your side? A Ghost finally ready to lay his soul to rest, if you’d have him. 
You could only hum softly at his words, sleep still filled in your bones. You didn’t answer him, instead you patted the empty side of the bed “Come sleep next to me, Si. You need the sleep” You said, your words a silent confirmation that you still wanted him. 
Simon gave a soft grunt of approval, too weary in body and soul to do anything but obey your gentle prompting. Careful not to jostle your healing injury, he stretched his long limbs out beside you with a satisfied sigh. 
It felt strange but right, sharing your space in such an intimate way after so long living apart. Like the final piece of a puzzle slipped neatly into place. 
Turning his head, Simon watched you watch him through half-lidded eyes, drinking in every beloved feature as if to confirm this wasn’t some whiskey-fueled dream. Reaching out, he lightly touched the graceful curve of your cheek before letting his hand come to rest against the steady rise and fall of your chest. 
“Sweetest sound there is,” he murmured, voice sleep-roughed and thick with meaning. A tousled head tucked itself beneath your chin with a contented sigh, tension seeping from tense muscles. 
Come what may with the light of dawn, for now all was peaceful. You were alive, you were safe. And against all odds, Simon had finally come home to roost. 
You held him close in your arms, gentle fingers carding through thick hair as you let his head rest against your now steady heartbeat. He needed the comfort, you could tell, and you were more than happy to give it to him. 
“Rest now, Si. I'm not going anywhere. Can’t get rid of me that easy” You assured, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. 
It was a funny thing, holding such a toughened man in your arms, keeping him close and coddled despite the almost laughable size difference. 
SImon made a low sound of gratitude at your soft reassurance, melting bonelessly into your gentle embrace. Your gentle fingers winding through his hair brought forth a wave of lethargy he’d fought to stave off this long week past. But no more - here in your arms, he was finally allowed to let his guard down. 
It still struck him sometimes how two souls so disparate could fit together so seamlessly. But you’d always had a way of easing even his most ragged edges, soothing demons he thought long beyond taming. Lithe as you were in your current state, your strength ran deeper than any show of force ever could - and he found solace there like nowhere else. 
“Missed this…” he mumbled, so soft it was barely audible even in the stillness enclosing your little world. One arm curled protectively around your middle, thumb brushing idle patterns against the slowly healing wound beneath the bandages. 
A prayer of thanks on parched lips, Simon let weary eyes slide shut. Sleep rose like a gentle tide, carrying him off to oblivion sheltered in the piece of heaven he’d begun to call home. You’d brought him back from the brink of darkness once more, anchor in the storm. And for that, he was eternally grateful. 
330 notes · View notes
troublesomesnitch · 5 months
Text
Phonesex with Aemond
Modern!Aemond x Reader
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Modern AU - Aemond calls you after the dinner fight, and you cheer him up in the best way you can.
Contents: some quick smut. New relationship, mentions of oral sex, p in v sex and brief anal exploration (f receiving).
Warnings: brief mention of terminal illness.
Words: 3300
Thank you @arcielee for test-reading, tidying and generally helping out with this little experimental fic!
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It has been six days since Aemond kissed you goodbye and shoved his skis and his snow gear and his aluminium suitcase into the back of a taxi. Six days, and you haven't heard from him since, not a single message, and no indication that he's read yours either. Six days, and the farewell kiss was just a sterile peck on the side of your mouth, because the driver was watching, and Aemond was in a foul mood already.
You suppose the thought of two weeks with one's extended family can do that to a person. And especially when one's family is as messy as Aemond's.
They're in the tabloids sometimes, Aegon with a model on his arm, Rhaenyra spotted topless in Ibiza, Viserys leaving the hospital looking more dead than alive. Old money, and every bit the stereotype too, with their luncheons and country estates and public feuds over inheritance. And the incident, of course. But Aemond never talks about that.
The family trip is solely his father's idea. Or, his father's command, really. His final wish; that they should all spend one last Christmas together at the chalet, eating venison and going cross-country skiing and whatever else rich people do on their alpine retreats. It is all very Town & Country, so far removed from anything you know. They have a coat of arms, for fucks sake, and Aemond wears it engraved on the back of his watch; on the cufflinks that sit in a velvet box atop his dresser. For special occasions, and you'd be lying if you said the thought had never crossed your mind: Aemond in coat and tie and cufflinks, yourself decked out in white and his mother's antique veil. Champagne fountain and monogrammed napkins and an article in Vogue Weddings. Double spread.
But you're getting way ahead of yourself. You have only been seeing each other for about three months, and it is still very new and foreign. Terrifying as well, and your heart leaps to your throat when your phone starts ringing and Aemond's name lights up on the screen.
Six days, and it's a quarter to midnight now, so that almost makes it seven.
"Hey," he says softly. "Did I wake you?"
"No!“ you exclaim, a little too excitedly despite your efforts to sound casual. “I was just watching something. How's St. Moritz?"
"Fine," he says, but it doesn't sound at all convincing, and there's a faint sound in the background. Like a scraping noise, and you imagine that he's picking at his cuticles; at the little chips in his nails.
"Aemond," you call, somewhat alarmed by the silence. "Is everything okay?"
The scraping gets louder before it finally stops and Aemond says sort of.
There was a fight at supper, apparently. An actual fight, with punching and shoving and everything. Straight out of Real Housewives, only even more insane, and Aemond started it, because of course he did. And all because of a stupid joke his nephew made.
"Isn't he like, fourteen?" you ask, and Aemond sighs on the other end of the line.
"Yeah," he mutters. "Something like that".
Jesus.
You are tempted to ask him why he would do such a thing, but you kind of already know. Because of his father, because of his sister, because of the incident. Because Viserys would rather dote on his grandsons than his own children, and because Aemond has chronic pains, and the prosthetic gets itchy, and he dented his car when he couldn't see how close that concrete pillar actually was.
And probably also because he doesn't hold his liquor very well.
"Aemond, you're a grown man," you begin, and your voice is kind and gentle, but you can almost hear how he's pinching the bridge of his nose. "I mean, I understand why you'd be upse - angry, but like. He's a child."
"I know," he sighs, shuffling around with something. "I shouldn't have done it.”  
There's the click of a lighter and then a deep exhale as he blows out smoke, and it reminds you of when you first met. You used to watch Aemond all the time before you worked up the courage to talk to him. He would lean so leisurely against the wall, cigarette in hand and that haughty smirk on his lips; leather jacket, black jeans, hair artfully tousled and tied back. Tall and handsome and just so fucking cool.
"Thought you quit," you tease, and it sounds a little chiding, but it isn't meant like that.
"I did," Aemond says. "I got this one from my uncle - it would have been rude to decline.”
He is quiet then, but it's a sort of contemplative silence. Like somehow you can feel there is more.
"It pisses me off," he finally says. "This whole charade - it's exhausting.”
Yes, you think. It must be. All of his family trapped under the same roof, forced to confront so many painful memories, yet act as though none of it ever happened. Smile and laugh and play house, and all so Viserys Targaryen can pretend he was a better man. Go to his grave with the comfortable illusion that he did not create the rift that tore his family apart.
If Aemond was with you right now, you would wrap your arms around him and kiss his face and his lovely hands, but all you can do at this moment is give a weak yeah, I understand.
"It has been the most miserable week," he moans. "Although - Aegon did fall off a lift today. He's fine, it was just a T-bar. But that was fun."
You giggle. "Oh, poor Aegon.”
"It was his own fault," Aemond snorts. "He had Jägerbombs for lunch. Anyway - " he clears his throat, back to the brooding mood and somber voice. "I'm sorry I called you so late. And for not being in touch. And for... everything else.”
"It's fine," you shrug. "I don't mind. But, Aemond - " you pause, thinking of how best to word the next part, "I think you should at least consider apologising to -"
"No." he cuts in. "Absolutely not.”
There's an awkward silence then, and you worry you might have overstepped your boundaries. He is so difficult to read sometimes, so elusive. You never quite know what he needs from you, sympathy, or flattery, or reassurance, or nothing at all.
You can, however, think of a way to distract him from his brooding. And maybe sex isn't the healthiest way to cope with one's issues, but still. It is miles better than beating up family members.
You twirl a lock of hair around your finger, even though he can’t see it. "What are you doing right now? Are you alone?"
“Yes,“ he says, curious. “Why?”
"What are you wearing?"
"Same thing I always wear," he responds, but then his voice turns coy and teasing, and he asks "what are you wearing?"
You look down at your fuzzy socks, your faded shorts, the worn-out knickers underneath.
"Honestly? Not anything nice."
Aemond laughs, a real laugh this time, and then he tells you just make something up.
The first thing that comes to your mind is that dress you saw the other day. Aemond would like it. He is not into extravagant lingerie and things like that, always likes it best when you are just you. Dry patches on your lips, bruises on your legs and all. Natural. 
But he is still a man though. So, not too natural.
"I'm wearing - I'm wearing a little slip. Silk, and it's the prettiest colour. It is soft to the touch," - you run a finger up your thigh, imagining it - "and it is very short. My legs are out and everything. And my tits look so good in it.”
"They always do," Aemond says, and he sounds a little husky when he asks what is underneath?
"Those panties you liked last time. With the little bows on them?"
"Yeah," he breathes. "I remember.”
"Good. Just the panties, and nothing else. And the dress is so thin - it feels like nothing when you touch it."
You lay back on top of your bed, your hand working its way down the waistband of your sleeping shorts, phone pressed to your ear. 
"I want to touch you," Aemond sighs, voice all soft and gentle. "I want to feel your body against mine.”
You blush. He is quite the romantic sometimes. Jesus, Aemond is so out of your league. You can hardly believe he'd even look in your direction, let alone kiss you and hold you and let you sleep with your head on his chest.
"Aemond" you whisper, slowly stroking your between your legs. "I'm getting all wet. All wet for you".
His breath hitches, and there's a faint oh, followed by the rustling of fabric as he palms himself over his pants. Lowering his voice and breathing touch yourself.
"I already am" you purr. "I wish it was you, though. Wish you could feel how much I want you."
Aemond says fuck, he wishes that too. You're getting him so hard. So hard just thinking about your pretty cunt.
"I'd like to suck your cock" you sigh longingly, and he immediately responds with a sharp breath that makes warmth spread in your stomach.
"Wait -" he mutters. "Hang on".
You hear the metallic clink of his belt, the sound of his zipper, and you bite your lip thinking about what he's doing. Taking his stiff cock in hand, brushing slender fingers along the shaft, running a thumb over the tip to collect the little drops that have already leaked from it. He has the prettiest cock, long and thick and veiny. Uncut, and blushing red at the tip when you slide his foreskin back. 
How you wish you could feel it in your mouth.
"Tell me how you'd do it" Aemond pleads, and there's a slight strain in his voice that suits it so well. 
"I'll start out slow," you whisper, "with just my tongue and my hand. Get your cock big and hard before I take you in my mouth. And then I'll wrap my lips around the head, and I'll press my tongue against the little slit there. And - and I’ll lick the tip of your cock until you’re begging me for more.”
He sighs, and you can hear how his hand settles into a steady rhythm, up and down over his hard cock. Filthy. 
You close your eyes and continue.
"I'd take you so deep, all the way to the back of my throat. And I would tease you - I'd be real fucking mean. I want you leaking in my mouth, all needy and desperate for me. Like, so you can barely hold it back anymore. You'd be ready to explode.”
"Don't stop - " he pants, still keeping up the stroking, pausing just briefly to spit into his hand.
"I'll edge you before I let you come. So many times, you'll be desperate for release. I want your balls so tight and heavy - all tender from how much you need to come - ”
Aemond moans, and he's stroking himself faster, tugging and tugging and filling his bedroom with damp, lewd noises. You know how he likes it; firm grip when he moves up, slack going back down, slight twist at the tip.
"And then?"
"I'd let you come in my mouth."
"No," he breathes. "I want to come inside of you.”
You give a little giggle; he always wants that. Occasionally he’ll finish all over your breasts, or in your mouth, but mostly he likes it the old fashioned way. Your bodies molded together and his cock pulsing deep inside of you. Pressing his forehead to yours or moaning into the back of neck. 
You like that too - but there are other things you might like to try as well. 
"You should come on my panties," you say coyly. "Like, inside them. And then I'd wear them all day, and just walk around with your cum between my legs.”
Aemond groans again, loudly, hoarse and strained and so fucking hot.
"You'd like that?" you tease. "I would feel it there all day. All wet and warm in my little panties. Right against my cunt."
"Fuck," he moans. "Fuck - I'd like that so much."
The sounds of his tugging get louder and faster, and you picture him laid out on his bed, cock throbbing in his hand, hips thrusting up and up into his own grip. Lone eye closed and mouth falling open. 
He lets out a soft moan, and a whine - and then the stroking abruptly stops. Close call, that one. Aemond curses, and you can hear him taking deep breaths, calming his body, halting the mounting need to ejaculate. Too soon.
“Can't wait to have you,” he mutters, and you give a quiet hum in response. 
“Please tell me how.”
He takes a slow, steadying breath.
"I want to be on top of you" he whispers, low, so no one will hear.  "Don't care if you're on your back or what, as long as you're underneath me".
"I'd be on my stomach. You can fuck me from behind".
“Yes,” he sighs. “I want to put my cock so deep inside you. I want you to feel how hard you make me. And I'll pin you down - I'll hold you in place when I take you" - his voice goes all ragged as he starts to slowly stroke his cock again - "fuck you're so beautiful when you're under me."
You mewl, and Aemond’s breath hitches.
“Yeah, and I'll fuck you slow, but hard. I want you squirming on my cock…”  he trails off, and for a moment there is only the sound of heavy breathing, his and yours. 
You had paused your own ministrations before, too focused on finding the right words, but now you begin your gentle stroking again. Underneath your knickers, fingers massaging right over your clit, so good that you let out a little whimper. 
“I love feeling you inside of me” you breathe, “I love it when you lie on top of me - ”
“Yeah?” He gasps, and you bite your lip. 
“Yeah. And I love it when you touch my - ass. Oh It feels so good when you touch me like that…”
Just saying it makes you a little flustered. You would not consider yourself very prudish, but there are some things that make you feel bashful, and this is one of them, the things he does to your backside when you’re together. And Aemond knows, and maybe that makes it even more arousing for him, the filthiness of it, the taboo. 
“How” he moans, his tone urgent and so incredibly intimate. “How do you want me to touch you -”
You have to take a very deep breath before you continue - you feel so sheepish, talking about that, but you are a woman in love, so for Aemond you’ll do your best. 
“I want you to slide your hand down my back and in between my cheeks,” you whisper, blushing all over. “It makes me so wet… feels so good when you caress me there - when you brush your fingers right over my tight little hole while you’re fucking me - maybe next time I’ll let you slip one inside…“
Aemond gives a strangled groan at that, quickening his strokes and hissing oh fuck. He is so close now, you can hear it. 
“Say my name” he begs, breathing so fast and tugging frantically on his cock. All hard and swollen now, his hips thrusting up, his balls pulling tight; oh you can imagine it so easily. 
“Aemond” you whisper. “Aemond, my love” - he moans louder, strokes harder - Aemond, I want you to fuck me, I want to feel your big, hard cock - 
Aemond chokes out a sob, and you say his name one last time as he reaches his peak. 
He holds back when he comes, muffling the helpless groans and grunts that you always love so much. But you can hear his strained sighs, his ragged breaths, and the sound is only slightly distorted through the speaker. If you close your eyes it's like he's there with you, gasping right in your ear. 
Oh you can’t wait to see him again, to get to touch him, cuddle up to him at night and run your finger down the perfect angle of his nose.
"You didn't come," Aemond says, accusingly, and you hold back a chuckle because he doesn't like it when you laugh at him. But it is as amusing as it is sweet, this need of his to do everything to perfection. Like if every time he is intimate with you isn't the BEST sex of your life, then he has failed as a lover; as a man.
“I did it on purpose” you reassure. “I'm saving it for you. All for you. Only for you.”
Aemond gives a somewhat dissatisfied hum, but he is occupied with something else now, moving around and fiddling with things. Cleaning himself up, you suppose. If only you were there to do it for him, you'd lick his cum right off his skin.
There is a loud noise in the background all of a sudden, someone knocking on Aemond’s door, and he scrambles to make himself presentable and tells you to hang on. The sounds are muffled - you assume he is covering the microphone - but you can hear another man's voice, and Aemond saying yes, I'll be right down, and then just fuck off, will you when the intruder won't take a hint.
"Sorry about that," he says awkwardly. "Aegon wants to go out. I should go with him".
You giggle at the thought - it is difficult to imagine Aemond at one of those tacky aprés-ski bars, glow stick and vodka-cranberry in hand. “Sounds fun!”
"Yeah, well, my mother would want me to,” he says sullenly. "You know, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.”
"What's the age of consent in Switzerland?" you jest, but Aemond just gives an exasperated sigh and mutters too bloody low.
You pause, unsure of what to say next, and again there's that loaded silence until he clears his throat.
"I will tell them about you. My family - I'll tell them soon. I promise.”
You can feel heat rising in your cheeks. 
Aemond purposely keeps you far away from his family, and he’ll go to great lengths to avoid running into them when you’re together. In fact he prefers not to go out at all, and you have never questioned it or complained. He’s got you hook, line and sinker - could tell you right to your face that he was embarrassed to be seen with you, and you would still be at his beck and call. 
You shrug. “It's fine. Don't worry about it. You don't have to tell them. It's fine.”
“No it isn't,” he says gravely. “You're important to me. So I should treat you as such.”
He says something else after that too, but you aren't listening, still stuck on the words you just heard. You're important to me. You're important.
It makes your heart leap with joy, and you are only pulled back to reality when Aemond calls out your name, and then sweetheart?
He doesn't call you that very often. It is always so nice when he does.
“Sorry” you blush. “I zoned out. But - I've missed you. I miss you. It's nice to hear your voice again.”
There's no way to tell, but somehow you feel like Aemond is smiling.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yours too.”
You tell him to have fun with Aegon and whatever horrid establishment they end up at, and Aemond tells you goodnight and says he'll call you as soon as he's back home. He doesn't say he misses you too, but that's okay. You know he does.
Because you're important.
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thatsdemko · 11 months
Text
just an incident - m.verstappen
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masterlist
requested: n
pairings: max verstappen x leclerc!fem!reader
warnings: hints of some friends to lovers trope + google translated French and Dutch + wrote this BEFORE the Monaco 2023 gp!
a/n: I cannot remember who it was that said most Dutch don’t use nicknames like “angel” or “baby” but I didn’t feel like changing the pet names so my apologies 😬 had a lil dream about this so enjoy xx
it really wasn’t supposed to happen. at least you didn’t want it to happen, but he most certainly did.
growing up he was your brothers biggest competitor and challenge. race tracks weren’t the same when max verstappen was on the circuit, and that was still true to this day. max became a menace and impossible to beat in that Red Bull, it made loving him in secret and supporting your brother in public harder.
because every race meant listening to that Dutch national anthem while your brother told off his team for the shit race. it meant spending long nights in the Ferrari garage rather than the ones in his hotel room celebrating his victory. loving max verstappen was not easy.
“mijn engel wat zit je dwars?” he asks, fingers gently brushing down the skin of your back. you’re sitting upright in his bed, pillow covering your chest as you scroll through the chain of text messages from your brothers. you could never have a peaceful evening alone without one of them calling or texting. my angel what's bothering you?
“mes frères.” you grumble tossing your phone into the pile of clothes on the ground before relaxing against his chest, “but I’m all yours now.” you press a kiss to his jawline, watching those beautiful green eyes close in contentment.
“why don’t you tell them about us? are you that worried?” his arm wraps around your shoulders allowing you to sink further against him. he knows Charles would have heart failure hearing his baby sister was more than just a friend with max, and it would give him all more of a reason to push him off the track or do risky overtakes. racing wouldn’t be the same for Charles or max, and maybe he hadn’t thought of that, but you certainly did.
“I’m more worried that I’d be stealing his boyfriend from him.” you joke watching the lines around his eyes crinkle, smile forming on his lips. you loved that smile dearly.
“we broke up a long time ago.”
“you go missing? been trying to call you for hours.” Lorenzo doesn’t even need to look up from his computer to know it’s you entering the house. just by the sound of your silent footsteps and nails tapping against your phone, he knew it couldn’t be anybody else.
especially since he began to pick up you were beginning to be late or no shows recently. you would push off family dinner for said alone time or show up to family game night a half an hour late. he wasn’t one to budge into your life and ask the questions, but seeing as things were drastically shifting he felt he needed in.
“what? no, just needed some extra sleep.” your lies weren’t getting any better, he knew the high pitch tone and small stutters were nothing but false words.
“you think to run a brush through your hair?” he scoffs seeing the snarls and tiny mats that you didn’t notice. you’re lucky your mother wasn’t home or else she’d have fainted at the sight.
“why are you in my business?” you ask making him finally look up from his laptop to see the purple faint bruises against your collarbone. there was no sleeping in for you, and he couldn’t help not fighting the smirk against his lips as he pulls the cup of coffee up to try and mask it.
“just go take a shower before Charles and Arthur come home, please?”
you listen to his request and find the warm water against your aching body and sensitive skin comforting. his nail marks at your hips were fresh, the pull in your groins were painful in the steam, and the purple bruises at your collarbone weren’t going to be easy to cover up. it was evident max wanted your family to know about him, whether you would actually drop his name was up to you.
the thick sweatshirt of Arthur’s that you stole covers what you wanted, and the baggy sweatpants you borrowed from max masked your shaking quads with each step. maybe you did miss being home, but you were missing that Dutch accent and being under the gaze is his big green eyes.
“when did you get back?” Arthur asks, head peaking into your room where he sees you tapping away on your phone, a little smile evident against your lips.
“this morning. how was work with Charles?” you turn around to see him moving in your room. Arthur was like your best friend, growing up one year apart, he was the closest thing you had sometimes, and lying to him about your relationship wasn’t easy.
“good, we ran into max.” even his name made your heart skip beats, you shifted uncomfortably against your bed trying to not make it obvious you were eager to hear how he was— despite having seen him only hours ago— or if he mentioned you.
“and?” you ask swallowing nervously, Arthur shifts against the doorframe with a shrug, “he’s alright, just prepping for Monaco.”
you let out a tiny sigh of relief nodding, “good for him I guess, I kind of hope he loses.” you lie biting your tongue and hear a laugh from Charles across the hall, “me too!” he calls out.
“you hope I lose? I heard that rumor by the way.” his voice startled you making you turn around to face him. he’s in his suit and tie, dressed his finest just like yourself. the expensive gala you were in was packed to the brim and you had lost all of your family members minutes ago when you spotted the Red Bull drivers appearance.
“you know I want you to win.” you move a little closer to him, his hand discreetly rests against your hip and he presses a friendly kiss to your cheek that you wish could be a little more than that in public.
“hoe gaat het met mijn meisje?” he leans into your ear, the soft whisper leaves a tingling sensation down your spine making your body curl closer to him. how’s my girl?
“il manque juste ta touche.” you reply, hand resting against his chest, nervously adjusting his crooked tie. you know people are staring and cameras are recording, but under his gaze you feel protected. those big hands and aggressive demeanor would go to war for you against anyone here. just missing your touch
he chuckles under his breath, “you have all of me, my love.” his lips press your temple quickly, before excusing himself to shake hands with Sergio Perez, his teammate.
you move out of the way when the cameras begin to flash and interviewers move in to ask questions to the Red Bull drivers. you find yourself watching from the sidelines beside Daniel, but his eyes always find you. a wink in your direction let’s you know he hasn’t lost sight.
“flirty with my man?” Daniel nudges your elbow gently, making you break your stare at the lady who’s getting to close to max for a picture.
“flirty? no, he was winking at you.” you laugh watching max pull Charles in for a photo with the two drivers. three of them smiling proudly for the cameras before Charles pulls away, a little dizzy from all the flashing.
“hm, I don’t recall him making sexy eyes at me in our contract.” daniel pushes you in the direction of max. now that the photos were done, you could tell he was looking for you, but of course Charles whisks him away before you both can close the gaps between each other.
“you think you’ll win in my circuit?” charles jokingly asks. pulling max out from the mass crowds of people, you were trailing behind the two of them pushing through bodies to join them.
max scoffs, “I can’t predict the outcome of this race, mate. we’ll just have to wait and see.” the Dutchman sees you push through a few people and he extends his hand to help you before you stumble into Carlos.
“yeah, well with my luck I’ll be last.”
“no Oscar and lando will make sure you aren’t.” max chuckles, the two make faces at each other before the tipsy giggles escape their lips. you wish all nights were like this, the two of them happy and not pinning each others successes for their failures.
“what will you do if you win?” you ask Charles stepping a little closer to their conversation watching him think. you look up at max who’s thinking through if he should put his hand against your back, maybe pull you closer to him.
“I don’t know yet. maybe take maman out to dinner? this is all hypothetical.”
max nods, hand finally resting against your lower back, “well if I win I think I’ll take a special someone out for dinner.” he pulls you closer to his chest, your arms unconsciously wrapping around his torso.
“oh? who is that?” charles asks, and it has yet to hit him. he’s clueless to Max’s hand resting on your ass, your arms around his torso, and his lips pressing into your hair. charles was clearly oblivious.
“me, idiot.” you scoff finally getting his attention, his eyes scan each part of your bodies and how close you were together. he looks lost, like a puppy trying to find home as the dogs finally connect with what’s in front of him.
“no! when did this happen?!”
“it was just an incident.” max shrugs, there was no other way to describe it. the pieces just fell into place and max verstappen somehow became the man you loved more than just in the dark, he was someone you were beginning to love in public.
“don’t use my words against me.”
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08luvmailz · 5 months
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⌨︎ ⁩◞ HERO FANBOY — ! ❪shoto todoroki❫
SYNOPSIS ୨୧ ! which a certain hero from ua crushes (hard) on a idol ! headcanon, ooc shoto
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FANBOY SHOTO! He wasn't interested in kpop activities, heck he hardly known anything about kpop in general.
He started knowing about them because of his brother natsuo who bought a heck ton of albums and blasting music in his room.
He side-eye his brother when he's screaming because he got your WINK-PHOTOCARD, as he keep screaming " omg! ITS SO SPARKS "
he saw the photocard and he was like " oh she's pretty " but disregard it afterwards BUTT
DIDNT KNOW HE WOULD FELL THAT HARD
he saw one of your recent comebacks on tv because his brother is streaming it and gahdam ur fucking SPARKLING ON STAGE.
At first he started knowing your group, YOU FIRST then streaming your group songs, your debut solo, collabs. streaming your group shows and music bank AND ALL THOSE
started buying albums too with natsuo. FINALLY HE HAVE SOMEONE IN THE FAMILY WHO WILL BE IN DEPT FOR LIFE BUYING ALBUMS
Natsuo asked who is his bias without hesitation he said your name, bro was smirking so bad at his lil bro BECAUSE YOU ARE THE MAKNAE OF YOUR GROUP, also half japanese and same age as him.
Bro was blushing whenever the camera pans at your face and smirking and doing that HE WAS GETTING HOTTER THAN HIS QUIRK
have a well known kpop stan twitter account who always make short comment about you but ICONIC because of how pure and sweet it is
doesnt know it but actually fell inlove with you NOT BECAUSE OF UR FACE (its a plus on him) but because of your determination and hard work, humour and personality is just CHEFS KISS
no one knows about his obsession welp it almost slip up when he accidently unplug his wired earphones to his phone AND SUDDENLY BLASTING Nobody knows by your group.
he lied he is just a casual listener
defends you on twitter, he looks like a soft boy but damn he is a beast on roasting BUT FAILS CAUSE HE CAN ONLY CUSS AT THEM
dedicated to buy front row tickets when your group finally have a concert there at your hometown
BRO WAS FIGHTING FOR LIFE AT THE POOR CONNECTION
bro brought the vip tickets for him and his big bro (with his dads money ofc, not like his father would know)
bro brought the 2 tickets for each day
won a fancall with you once but DAMN IT HIS HERO STUFF IS GETTING ON THE WAY
poor bby sulked the whole day that he missed the call, he was practicing his lines and tone for you
brought many batteries for his lightstick
make sure he is lookin good (not like he isn't good looking)
bro wake up early asf he want to be there as fast
bro became popular fan after one pictured him as the guy from the (group name) concert at jpn
he didnt know he bacame popular, he just saw his face 3 days after the concert on stan twt
BRO WHEN YOU TWO MAKE EYE CONTACT HE HAS HEART EYES
BRO WAS WHIPPED ASF
you are one stubborn fuck saw this cute guy with a scar and went through the barricades even though security was trying to get you back in stage cause its just a sound check and your safety too
Bro you came closer to him and saw his instax reaching for you. MADE A HEART CHEEK AT HIS FACE AND CAME CLOSER TO HIS FACE
bro almost want to faint right then and there.
you went after that he was kinda sad but happy he got a selfie WITH HIM
making this his lockscreen and making a frame of this treasured photo
You kept stealing glances at him and interacting with hand language, asking if he already eat lunch or just blantly flirting with him
LUCKIEST FAN
natsuo kept pushing his shoulders for every interaction at their section BUT MAINLY YOU ARE FOCUSED ON HIS BROTHER
bro when he came back from school BRO WAS BOMBARDED WITH QUESTIONS LIKE
" I DIDNT KNOW UR A FAN TODOROKI! " " WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME UR A FAN, I WANT TO BUY TICKETS TOO " " i didn't know todoroki listens to kpop " "BRO DID U HAVE PICS AND VID OF (your leader name) "
was now known as poker face but listens to puppy love by (groupname)
After that twt post of him being a handsome fan THEN PEOPLE STARTED SAYING HE WAS THE KID FROM UA, ENDEAVOR SON AND ALL THOSE SHIT
have an article of him now being the hero fan boy
boy he didnt give a shit about them, he just wanting to chill
but that didnt start there
your member posted on weverse a video of you taken, watching the sports festival and chanting HIS NAME AND BETTING THAT HE WOULD 1st PLACE
bro became the luckiest fan alive
saying he is the luckiest fan and hero and all of those then actually GONNA MEET YOU
you have a campaign like a collab with a hero AND THAT IS HIS DAD
participating on a event JUST TO SEE YOU
he did and boy was he nervous
he kept stuttering at the end of his sentence
then because actually friend with you, a little bit touchy side BUT HE IS A GENTELEMAN just subtle glances and touches
got your number and him posting a selfie of you two on twt (he made another acc just to post boast that picture)
after that he was well known as the hero fanboy who will soon in the future marry his idol
that woud be a story in another time <3
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the-sunflower-room · 6 months
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✧ to die by your side ✧
dazai x fem!reader
☆ genre: angst, hurt/comfort
☆ wc: 9.5k
☆ summary: dazai’s girlfriend is kidnapped by a revenge-seeking enemy and must count down the agonizing minutes to her death. dazai and the rest of the ada race to save her before time runs out.
☆ warnings: kidnapping, violence, language, mentions of blood/torture/drugging, dazai-typical suicide mentions, brief mentions of throwing up, self-loathing dazai, panic attacks, etc- overall just pretty angsty! slightly canon divergent with the way i wrote dazai’s ability. i also threw in some comfort at the end as a little treat <3
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………………………………………………………………………………….
Pain. Blinding pain.
That was the first thing Y/N noticed as she slowly regained consciousness. Her skull felt like it was on fire, her temple throbbing and wrists aching. A heavy weight sat on her chest and made the simple act of breathing difficult. A faint but persistent beeping noise seemed amplified in her ringing ears, worsening her pounding headache while the heavy scent of blood in the air made her stomach churn.
What was going on?
Confusion persisted until her mind began to register the other noises in her surroundings.
A man’s voice she didn’t recognize.
The soft beep of a video camera starting to record.
Something about the agency.
Dazai’s name.
Her body broke into a cold sweat at the sudden mention of her boyfriend.
Realizing her eyelids were too heavy to even open, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened. The last thing she remembered was kissing Dazai goodnight outside of her apartment, then quietly getting ready for bed once he had left. What could have possibly happened between then and now? Whose voice was echoing around her? Why did her body feel so heavy, and why were her thoughts so incoherent? If she could just get up-
Oh.
Oh.
Her wrists were bound behind her, the rest of her body anchored to the chair she was sat in by chains of steel. There was something large strapped to her abdomen emitting a beeping noise every few seconds.
Her heart nearly stopped beating in her chest as she slowly put together what was happening in her hazy mind.
“-Pay for your crimes by letting her die. This pretty little thing only has three hours left,” the gruff voice continued, sounding much clearer and much closer than before. Her panic increased tenfold as she realized the mystery man was directly behind her. Before she could fully prepare for it, a large hand suddenly grabbed a fistful of hair on her scalp and yanked her slumped head upwards. The pain forced her eyes open and she was greeted with a camera pointed at her, along with a room full of armed men. Her eyes slowly widened in terror and clarity as it all finally clicked in that moment, no matter how much she didn’t want to admit what was happening to her.
I’ve been kidnapped as a means to get back at the agency.
There’s a bomb strapped to me.
I have three hours to live.
The tears started then. Even though she could vaguely recognize that she was being recorded for the Agency’s viewing and it would only worry Dazai more if he saw her in so much distress, she couldn’t help her panic. No matter how strong she wanted to be for him, this was terrifying. Her life was suddenly on the line and she would die at the hands of these men if the agency couldn’t find her in time.
“Please,” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut and feeling pathetic as she let out a choked sob. Her voice cracked from disuse and she felt like she might hyperventilate. “Please, no. I don’t want to die.” The room filled with cruel laughter at her naive pleas, and she could only sink further into despair as the gravity of her situation became painfully evident. These were ruthless killers who were happy to see an innocent woman die for nothing more than the sake of revenge.
“Hear that, detectives? She’s begging for her life. What are you gonna do about it? The clock is ticking,” The man behind her sneered, grabbing her face in his calloused hand and squeezing it. She weakly attempted to yank her head away from his grasp and maintain her last shred of dignity. He was taunting them with her, the bastard.
Weaponizing their good nature and care for her. Trying to break them; trying to break her sweet Dazai.
Oh god- Dazai.
The more she thought about him, the more her tears flowed. Dazai, whose greatest fear was putting her in danger with his line of work. Dazai, who had lost so much more than a person should. Dazai, who loved and cared for her more than anyone she had ever known. The mere idea of him sitting at the agency headquarters, watching in horror while these unknown men teased him with her life, was too much to bear.
Through her cries of terror, Y/N could just barely overhear the man saying something else into the camera before ordering one of his subordinates to cut the footage. Dread filled the pit of her stomach as they turned their full attention on her and she realized she was truly alone with these psychopaths.
She had no way of knowing if the ADA was coming for her, or if they would be able to get to her in time. Hell, she didn’t even know if they would be able to diffuse the complicated bomb even if they did manage to reach her before it was set to detonate. She certainly didn’t want them to risk their own lives just to save her, even if the thought of dying in an explosion shook her to her core.
She felt her hope drain away with each new tick of the bomb, her body shaking with fear. Three hours was an awfully short time.
Please, Osamu.
My time is running out.
~
Dazai had never felt a rage quite like this before.
He knew that something was wrong the moment the agency had received a video from an untraceable source and Y/N hadn’t texted him about her day. That didn’t stop his heart from dropping clear to his stomach when he saw her on the monitor, chained up and bloody with a bomb on her chest.
No. Not her.
He avoided the nervous gazes of Atsushi and the rest of the agency members as he stared at her unconscious body on the screen, jaw clenched unimaginably tight and hands gripping the wood of the conference room table. The man standing in front of her was droning on about how Dazai had personally wronged his pathetic organization —something about putting a stop to their human trafficking network with the help of Kunikida— but he couldn’t bring himself to listen or even care.
He was attempting to keep his composure by focusing on the facts of the case. Namely, the extent of her injuries and her location.
Blood was dripping down the side of her face from her temple, some of it dried and caked in her hair. The bastards had likely hit her with some sort of blunt object to knock her out. His fury only grew at the thought of her being treated with such senseless violence. She still seemed dazed and confused as the man forced her awake to face the camera, a sure sign of a concussion or even drugging to further subdue her. She had a few more bruises and bloody cuts on her face, and he knew by the way the metal chains cut into her skin that they would cause serious irritation at the very least.
He couldn’t help but screw his eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath as her weak and desperate pleas reached his ears. The complete and utter terror in her voice as she begged her captors for mercy was nothing short of gut-wrenching to him. Even worse, the man was taunting Dazai with her pain. Smugly showing off her broken body like some sort of prize. She’s suffering because of you, a small voice in his head spat, making Dazai grit his teeth even more. No. Focus, you idiot. Focus on where they’re keeping her.
She looked to be trapped in some kind of metal room, potentially reinforced with anti-ability precautions to keep them from easily reaching her. The cell was dingy, dark, and silent, leading him to wonder if she was being kept somewhere underground. That would be a likely spot for these despicable cockroaches to hide. There were just over a dozen guards surrounding her, although they wouldn’t be an issue in the grand scheme of things; the ADA could certainly handle a few thugs with guns. What concerned him most was the bomb strapped to her chest.
There were plenty of geniuses among their ragtag team, but bombs were tricky. There could be dozens of triggers on it, or someone could detonate it remotely if anyone got too close to her. A single misstep or miscalculation could immediately cost Y/N’s life, and that was a risk Dazai certainly wasn’t willing to take.
He was furious at himself for letting this happen. He was so careful- always keeping tabs on her, steering her away from involvement in ADA antics, keeping an ear to the ground for trouble in the Yokohama underworld. He was constantly calculating and preparing for every outcome, always several steps ahead of his enemies with his dizzying plans. And yet, somehow, this measly organization he could hardly remember had managed to snatch his girlfriend out from under him with almost no trouble at all.
She was in mortal danger, and it was all his fault.
“Snap out of it, Dazai, I can hear your thoughts from all the way over here,” Kunikida piped up from across the room, his voice sympathetic but stern as he glared at his partner. “You need to keep your head on straight if we want to get her back.” He could tell just by reading Dazai’s expression how much inner turmoil the man was going through. How much he blamed himself for Y/N’s capture. But if they were going to rescue her before the three hours were up, there was no time for wallowing in self pity.
“Kunikida’s right,” Fukuzawa’s booming voice spoke, causing Dazai’s distant gaze to snap over to his boss in an instant. The fact that he was involved in the case at all revealed just how seriously the entire agency was taking her kidnapping. “Time is not on our side. We must be swift and rational if we are to have any hope of getting to Y/N and disabling the bomb in time.” Their words struck Dazai to his core. It was hard to remember that the other ADA members also cared deeply for his girlfriend, and they were willing to go so far as to put their lives at risk to help him get her back. Their unwavering support seemed to snap him out of his stupor and focus on the task at hand.
Get her back from those sorry motherfuckers.
“Right,” he nodded curtly, his expression suddenly devoid of all emotion as he turned to face the team with renewed focus and determination. “Ranpo-san, what’s the plan?”
The raven-haired detective, who had been quietly perched on the window sill and shadowed by the deep orange sunlight filtering into the room, suddenly jumped down from his seat and whipped out his pair of glasses in a flash. His trademark smirk spread across his face as he placed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, poised to activate his ability.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
~
Fifteen minutes.
That’s what the little timer read—from what she could tell, anyway. Y/N’s heart felt like it would burst out of her chest. She was drenched in sweat from the overwhelming fear taking over her body, despite her cell being practically freezing. The men had left her alone a while ago, but not before roughing her up for good measure. She now sported a throbbing bruise under her eye and a few new cuts on her face and neck, but she had blocked all of the pain out. All she could feel was pure panic as the countdown to her impending doom grew shorter and shorter.
She had no idea if Dazai and the rest of the ADA were even close to figuring out where she was, and her hope was beginning to run out. How could they possibly find her and disarm the bomb in a mere fifteen minutes? It didn’t seem at all possible, no matter how skilled they were. A single tear ran down her cheek as the reality set in. She was really going to die.
Trying to find some form of comfort as the seconds ticked away and she neared what she assumed were her last moments, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and forced her mind to go somewhere else—anywhere else—to escape this hell.
Dazai’s soft laughter filled her ears.
It was a lazy Sunday morning- the couple’s favorite time to lay in bed for the whole day and forget their actual adult responsibilities. They were tangled up in fresh sheets, warm sunlight streaming through the windows as Dazai playfully teased her about her refusal to let him get up.
“Five more minutes!” Y/N grumbled sleepily, burying her head into the crook of Dazai’s neck and breathing in his fresh scent. He still smelled like the floral body wash he had used in the shower the night before; the same body wash she had bought him when he insisted he loved the way it smelled on her and needed some for himself. Catching traces of its scent on him always brought a smile to her face.
“You said that five minutes ago,” he chuckled, his voice still husky from sleep. His hand absentmindedly massaged her scalp as he held her tight to his chest. “You can hear my stomach practically begging for food. Are you trying to starve me, my love?” Y/N was seemingly unaffected by his dramatic ploy to escape her embrace. “Yes,” she answered simply, burrowing further into his t-shirt to hide her smile that would give away her crumbling resolve. Of course, there was no hiding anything from Dazai Osamu.
“I saw that!” He gasped, playfully poking at her face. “My Y/N does care about me, who would have thought!” She couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her lips at her boyfriend’s theatrics. He was always blowing things out of proportion, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t love it.
Daring to peek up at him with heavy eyelids, her eyes met gentle brown staring back at her with nothing but warmth and fondness. The lovesick smile plastered across his face sent butterflies rushing through her stomach and she suddenly felt shy. His eyes were so pretty. “If you get up, I’ll be so lonely without you,” she pouted, hands snaking around his waist as she gave him her best puppy dog eyes. She knew she was playing dirty by pulling the pity card, but she also couldn’t stand the thought of being away from his comforting embrace for even a moment.
Dazai heaved a sigh, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as his hand moved to her face and gently brushed some of her hair away from her eyes. “Well how could I ever say no to that? I would rather starve than see my belladonna lonely and upset.” She rolled her eyes a let out an amused huff at his words, craning her neck so she was mere inches away from his face. “So you’ll stay?” She whispered, knowing that she’d already won the minute he hadn’t actually gotten up when he announced he needed breakfast.
Instead of responding right away, Dazai leaned down and planted a gentle kiss to her pouting mouth. She was just so irresistible. “Of course, darling,” he murmured against her lips, pulling her head back into his chest and smiling as he felt her snuggle closer. She truly was his everything. “Five more minutes with you is nothing short of pure bliss.”
Five minutes left.
Y/N thought she might pass out from the sheer terror that consumed her, threatening to pull her under completely. She would never see her friends again, including all of the agency members she had grown to call her family. She would die before saying goodbye to her loved ones- to Dazai. How would he react when he found her body, or what was left of it? How would he cope? The very thought forced a watery sob from her throat.
This is the end.
I’m going to die without seeing him one last time.
Suddenly, a loud bang sounded outside of the door to her prison and startled her out of her despair. It sounded like someone throwing their body against the heavy steel door. She froze, swallowing back her tears and preparing herself for the worst. Maybe the men were back to torture her one last time before setting off the bomb. As her mind came up with the worst possible scenarios, a familiar grunt reached her ears through the metal walls. It couldn’t be. After a beat, she heard the noise again. Then- “Y/N?”
She nearly stopped breathing at the sound of his angelic lilt. “…Samu?” She called out weakly, afraid to let herself be filled with hope in case it was some kind of cruel trick. “Y/N!” He yelled back, a mixture of desperation and relief in his voice as the banging noises continued. It was incredible how quickly hearing his voice had managed to relax her, even if she knew she was still in immediate danger. He always did have a calming effect on her. “Osamu, I don’t have much time left,” she gasped, desperately struggling against her restraints. Now that she knew he was here, she wanted nothing more than to be with him.
“I know, I know. I’m gonna get you out of here, baby,” he assured her through the cold metal door, giving the handle another frustrated jolt. Why couldn’t he have been blessed with a strength-related ability? “Those assholes had some ability users up their sleeve, so the others are busy trying to break through their defenses,” he explained in a rush, throwing his body into the door again despite the blooming pain in his shoulder. He wouldn’t have the help of Atsushi or Kenji like they had originally planned, and that worried him. “I promise, I won’t stop until I get into that room and you’re safe.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a voice suddenly boomed over a hidden speaker, catching the attention of both Dazai and Y/N as their heads snapped upwards in near unison. Her blood ran cold as she recognized it as the voice of her captor. “Break into that room, and we’ll set off the bomb early. Didn’t you listen to us? This is your penance, Dazai,” he spoke, clear amusement in his tone. The bastard was watching them from somewhere else in the underground facility, enjoying their pain. Using it as entertainment.
Three minutes left.
Dazai grimaced outside of the door, hands balling into fists as a new fear and rage ignited inside of him. There was never going to be a way to reach her without the bomb going off. It was a cruel way to torture him; forcing him to either live with the guilt of leaving her and save his own life, or stay with her until the bitter end. It wasn’t a difficult choice to make.
As Y/N pieced together the new information, she quickly came to the same conclusion as her boyfriend and felt her eyes go wide. “Dazai, NO! Get away from here, now!” She screamed, fresh tears already burning in her eyes. She knew that he was selfless and loved her more than anything, but in that moment she wanted him to turn his back on her. To break her heart and leave her behind to save himself.
Ramming his now probably broken shoulder into the cold, unforgiving metal one last time, Dazai shook his head as he slowly sank to the floor. His hands were raw and bleeding from practically clawing at the wall for a weak point, but he didn’t care. Nothing else mattered anymore but staying with her. “I won’t leave you,” he said simply, leaning his head against the wall. The agony of knowing that she was in that room, alone and afraid, minutes away from her death, was crushing. But if he could offer her even the smallest comfort before that timer hit zero, he would do it in a heartbeat.
Meanwhile, Y/N was on the verge of a panic attack. Tears streamed down her face and she struggled to breathe, completely overwhelmed by what was happening. To have to accept that she really was about to die a horrible and graphic death in a few minutes was terrifying, but to know that Dazai was right outside the door and would also die if he stayed; that was too much. She knew how stubborn he was, but she had to try to make him leave anyway. Anything to get him to save himself.
“Please,” she cried desperately, consumed with grief as sobs wracked through her body. “You can’t stay, Dazai, you have to GO!” Hearing her in so much pain was like a thousand knives to the heart, but despite everything, Dazai couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his face. She really didn’t get it. “Go where, huh? There’s nowhere in this world I would go without you,” he spoke softly, shutting his eyes and letting out a small sigh. He seemed strangely content.
She continued to sob, choking on her breaths as the timer reached one minute. He was so stupid and selfless and wonderful- she couldn’t let him die. “Please…you can’t do this to me, you have to leave…you can’t stay,” she whimpered almost incoherently, barely able to yell anymore. Her strength was running out, her body exhausted from all of the mental turmoil. Still, she continued to strain against the chains wrapped tightly around her as if she could break them by sheer will. “Don’t be scared, Y/N,” he called to her, the smile still on his face. “I’m right here with you and I’m not leaving you. It’s gonna be okay.” Through the walls he could hear her voice break as she wailed in agony at his words, the sound blood-curdling.
Thirty seconds.
Dazai thought it ironic that this was the way he was going out; a tragic double suicide with his lover. It was almost funny. Almost. “I love you, darling. My sweet belladonna. Not even death can keep us apart,” he reassured her, opening his eyes and staring at the wall as if he could look straight through the metal and meet her gaze. His heart squeezed in his chest as she let out another horrible, strangled sob. “There- isn’t much time- left,” she gasped in between breaths, her whole body trembling. Why couldn’t he leave her? Why couldn’t he save himself? He was too important to the ADA, to the world, to die. The guilt was eating her alive.
Ten seconds.
“I love you, Y/N,” he repeated, and he was never more sure of his words. She let out one last piercing, guttural scream, pulling at the chains so hard her skin started to bleed. She thought she might faint from the agonizing anticipation as the clock counted down her last moments of life; their last moments. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut in defeat. He shook his head once again. She had nothing to be sorry for. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered one final time, placing his bloody hand against the door. Offering his comfort in their last seconds alive.
Three.
Two.
One.
Silence. A flash of white hot light. A horrible booming noise. Then, nothing.
~
The rest of the ADA halted in their battle at the sound of the explosion, staring at one another in horror. Smoke billowed out from one of the dingy tunnels, the familiar scent of flames filling the air. There was no way they had failed…right? The couldn’t have lost Y/N and Dazai; not when they had worked so hard to get out of the situation with everyone unharmed.
The sound of cackling laughter echoed through the underground base mere moments after the explosion, drawing their attention to a man emerging from the shadows. They immediately recognized him as the man from the video- the organization’s leader who had personally tormented Y/N.
“The great Dazai Osamu is dead,” he shrieked, his crazed laughter forcing him to double over. The rest of the organization’s thugs began to jeer and laugh along with him, celebrating their victory over the ADA’s elusive genius. Atsushi felt tears welling in his eyes, not just for the tragic and sudden loss of his brilliant mentor whom he deeply cared for, but for Y/N as well. Those pieces of shit didn’t even care that they had killed her too; to them she was just a means to an end. The sweet woman who had shown him nothing but kindness when he joined the ADA and brought so much joy into their lives…dead.
To his left, Kunikida was also fighting back angry tears, refusing to accept that his frustrating but brilliant partner had truly been killed by these incompetent fools. Kyoka and Kenji’s eyes were blown wide in shock while Tanizaki panted heavily, his mouth gaping. It seemed that none of them could actually comprehend that the pair were truly dead and gone.
“You detectives are nothing but a bunch of sentimental fools!” The man cackled, face red and eyes bulging. He looked insane. “I can’t believe your genius was lured and killed by such an easy trap. All it took was kidnapping that little bitch and blowing her up!” All of the ADA members tensed, looking visibly appalled by his cruel, demeaning words. Not only was this man completely unhinged, but he was outright mocking an innocent woman’s death.
It was sickening.
Just as the sinking feeling of dread began to settle in the pit of Atsushi’s stomach, a distant but familiar voice called out from the smoke to interrupt their little celebration. “Ah, you underestimate me…” the voice drawled, jerking everyone’s attention to the smoking tunnel. All of the color drained from the leader’s face as he watched three silhouettes slowly emerge from the haze. “No…that’s impossible!” He screeched, all confidence gone and white as a ghost as he pointed at the trio with a shaking finger. “I watched you die! I-I saw it with my own eyes!”
Dazai, Y/N, and Dr. Yosano appeared at the entrance of the tunnel as the smoke cleared, Y/N leaned against Dazai for support while Yosano brandished her weapon. Y/N looked slightly stunned and shaken up, but the two survivors otherwise seemed completely unharmed, no trace of any injuries on their bodies.
“You did,” Dazai flashed his signature shit-eating grin, eyes flicking over to their team’s resident doctor. “Thankfully we had a backup plan in case you tried anything dirty, like you did.”
Ranpo had luckily had the foresight to bring in Yosano from a different entry point and position her near the cell that Y/N was being held in once they figured out her location, in the event that things went wrong and the bomb went off. That way she was there to immediately patch them up with her ability once it detonated, making it so that the harm was only temporary. There had never been any real threat of death; as long as Yosano worked fast enough, that is.
“You were a fool to play with this woman’s life to get back at an enemy,” Yosano spat, pointing her cleaver at the now trembling man before her. “Those who do not properly respect life will receive the ultimate punishment!” The rest of the thugs glanced around uneasily, sensing a shift in the power dynamic of the fight. Suddenly their main target was alive and well, and the rest of the agency seemed even more bloodthirsty than before.
“I-Impossible! No!” He cried, slowly backing towards another tunnel. The ADA members adjusted their stances and stared him down with what could only be described as murderous glints in their eyes, making it clear that he wouldn’t be getting away without a gruesome fight. He gulped. “Take this as a lesson!” Dazai announced cheerfully, still smiling but now with a terrifyingly cold and emotionless look in his eyes.
“There are grave consequences for those who hurt the people I love. And you’ve stupidly chosen to hurt the person I love most.”
It was a blur after that, all hell breaking loose. Dazai quickly ordered Tanizaki to cloak Y/N with his ability and get her safely to the surface as fighting broke out all around them. She wanted to protest, but the look in his eyes told her that he just wanted to get her out of harm’s way for the time being and that’d he be back at her side as soon as he was done dealing with the room of pitiful men. She certainly didn’t want to stick around and see what he and the rest of the ADA had in store for them. He pressed one last comforting kiss to her forehead before sending her off to escape with the ginger detective, his fiercely protective gaze never once leaving her as she fled the scene.
Covering the two of them with Light Snow, Tanizaki grabbed Y/N by the wrist and rushed her out of the disgusting underground hideout, pulling her away from the violent fight that had broken out. He knew that it would only be a few minutes until the team was done putting those miserable scumbags in their place.
They eventually reached the entrance of the base after a few tense minutes of running through winding tunnels, finding Ranpo and a trusted driver from the agency waiting in a running car. Tanizaki carefully opened the backseat door for her and made sure she was safely in the car before stepping back, flashing a comforting smile. “I’m so happy to see that you’re safe, Y/N. Ranpo will take care of the rest and make sure you get back to the agency safely,” he quickly explained, nodding at the driver before closing the car door and giving her a small wave.
Although she was still shellshocked, she managed a small wave in return and and even smaller smile. “Thank you,” she mouthed as the car pulled away, grateful for his help in getting her out of that hellhole. She was happy to leave the horrible place behind.
“Good to see you, Y/N,” Ranpo greeted from the seat next to her, drawing her attention away from the now small spec that was Tanizaki. Seeing her old friend sitting next to her filled her with so much relief she could hardly breathe. She opened her mouth to thank him for everything, knowing that the elaborate rescue plan was his doing, but the words caught in her throat. Everything had happened so fast that she barely had any time to process it. The bomb going off, practically dying, being saved by Yosano, briefly reuniting with Dazai, escaping the underground labyrinth. She was so overwhelmed with emotion as she realized she was actually alive and safe. Dazai was alive and safe.
We survived…
but we almost didn’t.
She promptly bent over and threw up onto the floor of the car.
Ranpo shrank into the corner of his seat, looking wildly uncomfortable but biting back his usual snarky and tone-deaf remarks. She had been through a lot, and her body had to expel all of those suffocating emotions somehow. “I had a feeling you would do that,” he grimaced, but he nonetheless leaned over and gently pat her back in a small act of comfort. Coughing on bile, Y/N felt hot tears burning the back of her eyes at the detective’s kind gesture. Everyone at the agency had shown up to help her in one way or another, and it was staggering to see just how much they cared.
Even in this very vulnerable moment, Ranpo was offering his genuine support, something that was incredibly rare for him. She would have to buy him a big care package of his favorite snacks later to show her gratitude for all he had done for her.
Eventually the car arrived at the agency, the normally bustling streets of Yokohama quiet and deserted in the late hour. Y/N apologized profusely to the driver for the small mess in the car, thoroughly embarrassed even though she hadn’t been able to help it. He simply dismissed it with a wave of his hand and an understanding smile. “No problem whatsoever, miss. You just take it easy.”
With that, Ranpo carefully guided her into the safety of the agency, leading her upstairs with one arm draped over her shoulder. When the pair finally reached the office, Y/N practically collapsed into one of the couches in the lounge area, letting out a sigh and massaging her temples to try and soothe her pounding head. Being dehydrated and malnourished for nearly 24 hours wasn’t exactly helping her stress-induced headache that had quickly developed in the car ride over.
Once again, as if reading her mind, Ranpo disappeared for a moment before returning with a water bottle, a few snacks, medicine, and a blanket in his arms, placing them on the coffee table in front of her. It was like he knew everything she needed- and he probably did. “Rest up and take care of yourself,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for debate. “I’m sure Dazai will be here soon to take you home, but in the meantime try to relax and get some food and water in you. You’ve had a long day.” She smiled gratefully, albeit a little tiredly, at the gesture. Yet another rare display of his care.
“Thank you, for everything,” she whispered, trying to convey just how sincerely she meant those words. She wouldn’t soon forget his help. He flashed her a small, lopsided grin before waving her off dramatically. “It was nothing for the world’s greatest detective!” He declared, pointing a finger into the air before turning on his heels and making his way back to his desk, munching on a snack of his own. Just like that, Y/N was alone.
She quietly opened one of the snacks Ranpo had provided her, washing down some pain-relief pills with the water after she’d eaten a few bites. When her nauseous stomach began to protest the food, she forced herself to stop. Although she was still incredibly hungry, she certainly didn’t want to end up with another mess to clean up. Shuddering at the thought, she wrapped herself up with the plush blanket and tried to calm her racing heart. Her mind was still reeling from everything. The constant thoughts of the traumatic events she had just undergone only made her headache and nausea worse by the minute, and her brain felt like it might explode.
She was exhausted.
If she could just clear her mind and close her eyes for a moment…
~
Without even realizing she had dozed off on the couch, she awoke some time later to the feeling of a slender hand cupping her cheek, stroking her jaw with delicate precision. She didn’t even have to open her eyes to know it was Dazai. “Wake up, my love,” his hushed voice cooed, immediately pulling her from her slumber. Slowly blinking her eyes open, she was met with his comforting smile, but his eyes were unimaginably sad. Her heart ached.
“Ready to go home?”
Nodding sleepily, Y/N slowly picked herself up from the couch, shrugging the blanket off her shoulders and neatly folding it up before placing it back on the coffee table. After gathering her bearings, she realized that some of the other agency members had also returned to the office, likely to fill out paperwork before heading home for the night. She felt a pang of guilt shoot through her as she realized they would have to do extra work because of her. If you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself kidnapped, they would all be home sleeping right now.
A dreadful thought suddenly crossed her mind. Would she have to fill out paperwork and recount what had happened to her? It seemed likely, as they kept track of nearly every incident like this. The very idea made another wave of nausea roll through her.
As if sensing her worry, Kunikida rounded the corner with a stack of papers in-hand, taking in her dead-tired appearance with a single glance. “Just so you know, we will need a statement on what happened eventually, Y/N, but I don’t want you to even think about it until you’re recovered and ready to talk,” he instructed, concern and sympathy evident in his expression despite his no-nonsense tone. He was truly glad to see her safe and back under the protection of the agency. Y/N nodded, relieved that she wouldn’t have to recount the traumatic events until she was ready. At the moment she couldn’t even imagine a time when she would ever feel ready.
Turning his attention to Dazai, the sympathetic look vanished from Kunikida’s face and morphed into one of general annoyance. “Don’t think that you’re getting out of doing the paperwork just because you almost died,” he barked, jabbing an accusing finger at his partner’s chest. “It’s no excuse to be lazy.”
Dazai placed a hand to his heart and looked aghast, as if the very insinuation of him trying to avoid paperwork was ridiculous. “Me? Getting out of paperwork? Really, Kunikida-kun, what do you take me for?” He gasped, earning a growl and a sharp smack to the head with a roll of papers.
Their antics miraculously drew out a soft chuckle from Y/N’s lips, but it was half-hearted at best. As enjoyable as Dazai and Kunikida’s banter was, her eyes still drooped with fatigue and her anxious mind longed to rest in the comfort of her own home. She just wanted this horrible day to be over with. Gaze dropping to Y/N’s face at the sound of her reserved amusement, Dazai quickly noted the weight of her exhaustion and took it as their cue to leave.
“I think it’s time for us to get home,” he announced, glancing back up at Kunikida and sharing a knowing look with him. The blond held his stare for a moment before sighing, giving a small nod before politely bidding the two a good night and moving on to pester Ranpo about doing his work.
Placing a hand on the small of her back, Dazai carefully led Y/N out of the agency and into the streets of Yokohama below, glancing at her every few minutes to make sure she was doing ok. She was quiet during the walk home, her expression blank and her eyelids heavy. He found himself wishing he could figure out what she was thinking. Normally he could read her like a book, always knowing exactly how she was feeling or what was troubling her. Now she just seemed numb. A dark part of his mind feared that she was distancing herself from him because their relationship had nearly gotten her killed.
Would she even want to be with him anymore? Would she leave him to heal the trauma he had caused her? He shuddered at the thought.
Eventually arriving at their destination, Y/N quickly realized that Dazai had led her back to his apartment instead of her own. That’s right. Mine was broken into, and no one’s been around to clean up the mess that was probably left behind. She was grateful for his thoughtfulness. There was no way she would’ve been able to keep her composure if she had walked into her home and seen the evidence of her capture.
Walking into the entryway after Dazai had unlocked the door, Y/N immediately wanted to cry as the warm, familiar scent of his apartment hit her. It just smelled like him, something she thought she’d lost mere hours ago. The familiarity of the space nearly brought tears to her eyes.
It was overwhelming, to say the least.
Noticing her distant, watery gaze, Dazai quickly swooped in to distract her, helping her slip out of her shoes and guiding her to the bedroom to change out of her clothes. Although Yosano had done away with all of the physical injuries on her body, she still felt dirty, the scent of mold and metal clinging to her shirt. It drew her back to that room and the horrible, agonizingly slow ticking of the bomb. The memories lingered in the back of her mind as she discarded her old clothes, slipping into a comfortable t-shirt and a soft pair of shorts that she kept in Dazai’s drawer for the nights when she slept over.
“Better?” Dazai questioned softly when she had finished changing, eyes searching hers almost frantically for any sign of discomfort. He wanted to help her in any way possible, but for once in his life, he didn’t know what to do. The day had taken a toll on him as well and he was struggling to maintain his calm facade. Staring deep into his eyes, she gave the slightest of nods and opened her mouth to reassure him, to tell him that she was ok now. She was home, she was safe thanks to him, she was with him- everything had turned out just fine. But for the second time that night, the words refused to come out.
Instead, she just stared in silence before collapsing into a sudden fit of sobs, knees buckling and sending her falling to the hardwood below. Panicked, Dazai scrambled to meet her at the floor, strong arms holding her steady while she attempted to muffle her pained cries with the palm of her hand. Her sudden tears had him terrified that he had done something wrong. “Hey, hey, what’s the matter, angel? Please, let me help-“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before she threw herself into his arms, holding him tighter than she had ever held anyone.
Her desperation to feel him and be close to him now was due to the fact that their reunion in the underground base had been so short lived. Y/N was in too much shock, not understanding how she had gone from dying a gruesome death to perfectly fine in only a matter of seconds. She could barely even register Dazai’s arms wrapped around her in a bone crushing hug or the sweet encouragements he was whispering in her ear.
Dazai was used to Yosano’s incredible ability. Having been saved by it countless times, being revived by the dark-haired doctor was practically second nature to him. But Y/N was still reeling from the excruciating pain she had experienced moments ago that had just vanished. It was like it had tattooed itself under her skin, a painful memory of her near-death.
The shock of being revived clouded her mind as Dazai had clutched her body close, kissing her forehead and squeezing her tight. She couldn’t even enjoy the pure relief that normally would have filled her when she pieced together that she was alive and safe in her loving boyfriend’s arms. Before she could comprehend what was going on, he had already helped her off the ground and had begun to walk her down the hallway with Yosano, headed towards the main fight.
Now, on the floor of Dazai’s dark bedroom, her mind had finally registered exactly what had transpired mere hours ago. He sacrificed himself just so I wouldn’t be alone in my last moments. He stayed with me until the very end, and he was the first thing I saw after I was healed by Yosano. He means more to me than anyone ever has- and I almost got him killed.
Shushing her cries of despair, Dazai cradled her head to his chest, feeling tears building in his own eyes. He just wanted to take all of her pain away. “Shhh…it’s alright, darling, you’re safe,” he whispered into her ear, feeling her grip around him tighten even more. She was gasping for breath, practically hyperventilating. It seemed her distress was never ending. “Please, my love…please tell me what’s wrong…I want to help you,” he muttered, stroking her hair and pressing gentle kisses into the crown of her head. Her muffled cries only grew louder and he only felt more helpless.
Eventually, after a few minutes of his hushed reassurances and tight, comforting hold, she managed to catch her breath enough to speak. When she pulled away from his chest and finally looked up at him, her eyes held a sorrow so deep that it broke Dazai’s heart all over again. “I- I’m so sorry,” she rasped, sounding completely broken. “You almost died because of me. I hurt you.” Another watery sob escaped her throat before she hung her head and pressed a hand to her lips yet again to stifle her pained cries.
Her words left him in utter shock. He couldn’t imagine how she could possibly think any of this was on her. Not when the truth was the complete opposite. It was time for him to be honest about his feelings, no matter how terrifying it was. “Hey…will you look at me?” He questioned gently, tilting her chin upwards with his finger to guide her gaze back to his. The smallest of smiles graced his lips when she finally complied, glassy eyes locking on his own. “There you are. It hurts that you blame yourself at all, darling. Especially when it’s me you have to blame for all of this.” When her distraught expression morphed into one of confusion, his hands made their way to her own, squeezing them tight. She absentmindedly stroked her thumb along his wrist in a comforting gesture, urging him to explain.
“…I knew Yosano would be there the whole time we were trying to rescue you. I knew she was waiting for us in case things went wrong, and that she would heal us if the bomb went off,” he began, staring intently into her eyes as he spoke. “But listening to you in there, scared and alone, waiting for it to detonate, was horrible. It was the worst possible scenario that we tried so hard to avoid. And knowing that you would have to endure the god awful pain of the explosion even for a moment, and I could do nothing about it, made me sick. It was just another cruel reminder that I always end up hurting the people I care for.”
His sincere confession had stunned Y/N. Though she and her boyfriend were incredibly close, Dazai was a fairly private person who didn’t often air his deep insecurities. The fact that he was being so vulnerable in this moment told her just how genuine his words were, and it hurt like hell to hear. Before she could say anything to rebut his confession, he continued. “I just feel like…a curse to the people I love most. They’ll always be hurt or worse because of me. And it’s so hard to live with myself because of that.”
Eyes widening, Y/N shook her head in disbelief. She couldn’t even imagine where his horrible self-deprecating talk was coming from. “How could you even say that? You saved me. I’m only here and alive because of you and the agency.” He let out a soft, humorless chuckle at her words, his gaze distant. “I failed you, my love. You were almost killed because of me.” He practically spat the word out, like he was disgusted with himself. His grip on her hands tightened.
“The whole reason those men took you in the first place was to get revenge on me. To force me to choose to live with the guilt of letting you die, or die alongside you. The fact that you had to be wrapped up in all that, traumatized and hurt and almost killed because of my enemies, my line of work…” he trailed off, his voice nearly breaking as his eyes begged her to understand. “No matter how careful I was and how much I tried to protect you, it meant nothing in the end.”
The guilt inside of him was all-consuming. Yes, they had saved her. Yes, they had made sure that the organization would never lay a finger on her or anyone else ever again. But what if something had gone wrong? What if they had been outsmarted, and Yosano hadn’t been waiting in the wings to heal them after the bomb went off? Y/N had been tortured, terrified, in pain because of him. To know that it was his fault that she had been scarred so deeply was his own personal hell.
In a way, the assholes who kidnapped her had won. It was Dazai’s penance, as their leader had called it- still living with the crushing guilt even after he had saved her. Hating himself over and over again for putting her in that position in the first place. Remembering her in the video, bruised and bloody and scared for her life. Constantly reliving her desperate cries for him to leave her in those final moments while he was utterly helpless to save her.
It was torture.
He just felt so stupid for being outsmarted by the lowly organization and allowing his precious lover to get hurt in the process.
“Dazai,” Y/N spoke sharply, effectively snapping him out of his spiral. She rarely called him Dazai unless she was being serious, and she couldn’t stand hearing him blame himself for one more second. “I won’t lie to you and say that today wasn’t one of the worst days of my life. The fear I felt, knowing I’d been taken from my home, having to count down the minutes to my death…” she paused, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head as if willing away the unpleasant memories. He patiently waited for her to come back to herself, giving her hands a comforting squeeze.
“…It’ll take me a long time to get over that,” she finally admitted after a moment. “But the worst part of it wasn’t being kidnapped, or hurt by those men, or waiting for the inevitable explosion. It was thinking that I was going to lose you too. All I could focus on in those last minutes was you behind that door, too stubborn to leave me. All I could think about was how much I loved you, and how much I wanted you to be selfish for once and save yourself.”
She watched as he blinked back tears, a mystified expression in his face. As if the very thought of someone worrying about him and his life was completely foreign. Wanting to make herself absolutely clear, she kept going, no matter how much it hurt to see him struggling to understand her love for him. “I could never blame you for what happened. Those men did this to us- they caused all this pain and hurt. Not you.”
Her words left him dumbfounded, to say the least. They managed to remind him of why he loved her as fiercely as he did- she was the good in his life. Even after such a traumatic experience, she was incapable of blaming him for what had happened. Her love and compassion for him despite the darkness he brought into their lives was eye opening, forcing him to realize that no matter how much he thought it untrue, he was capable of being loved.
And how lucky he was to be loved by her.
Unable to articulate his complicated feelings any other way, Dazai cupped her face and surged forward, pressing his lips into her own and kissing her with such genuine fervor that it left Y/N breathless. Although she was momentarily shocked by his sudden show of affection, it quickly wore off as she melted into him. This was the first time they had truly kissed since reuniting, and they were each aching to communicate just how much they loved one another. How close they were to losing their other half; the person that completely them.
Her hands raked through his brown curls almost erratically, desperate to compensate for those long, torturous hours spent away from him. He seemed equally if not more hungry for her touch, like he was trying to prove to himself that she was really there with him after their near death experience. His slender fingers glided across her body and gripped her closer to him, nearly feral in his pursuit to feel every inch of her. She tugged at the hair near the base of his head and elicited a low, rumbling moan in return.
“My beautiful girl,” he rasped as he briefly pulled away, eyes roaming over her body with a look of complete infatuation. She was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen—and he’d almost lost her. His arm snaked around her waist to tug her impossibly closer, practically pulling her into his lap. She didn’t mind.
He continued to plant kisses all over her face, her hair, her jaw- anywhere he could reach. His lips ghosted over every inch of skin that had previously been covered in blood or bruises, almost as though he had memorized the exact locations of all her injuries just from watching the video hours ago. Knowing Dazai, he probably had committed all of her injuries to memory.
In between kisses, he muttered gentle praises and affections into her ear, all of which made her face flush a deep red. She would never tire of the way his whispered adorations made her heart race and the feeling of his soft lips against her skin. “My darling. My sweet belladonna. You’re everything to me. Everything,” he breathed, kissing the tip of her nose. “Words cannot even describe how much you mean to me. I’m nothing without you.”
Y/N rolled her head back as his lips trailed up her neck and neared her jawline, sucking in a sharp breath when his hands moved into her hair and his grip tightened. His kisses were becoming more passionate, more anxious to prove to her how grateful he was that she was finally back in his arms. That he would never let anyone lay a hand on her again. She allowed his love the wash over her, happily reciprocating when his lips finally captured her own once again.
He tasted like salty tears and home.
Eventually breaking away from one another to catch their breath, Y/N rested her forehead against Dazai’s and let out a shaky sigh, finally letting herself feel safe after what had felt like an eternity of fear and unease. Just being in his presence was enough to help alleviate some of crushing panic she had felt just hours ago.
“Thank you for being with me. For always protecting me, even when you think you’re not. And for never leaving me behind,” she whispered, glancing up into his big brown eyes that were mere inches away from her own. Although the thought of him almost dying with her in the explosion filled her entire being with dread, his determination to stay with her and offer her comfort until the very end meant more to her than she could explain.
“I wouldn’t dream of abandoning you. I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life protecting you and making sure something like this never happens again,” he assured her with nothing but sincerity in his soothing voice, taking her hands and gently brushing his lips over her knuckles. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gesture. “You are the most wonderful thing in my life. My reason for living at all. It’s hard to wrap my head around what I’ve possibly done to deserve you, but I promise I’ll do everything within my power to cherish you and keep you safe as long as I live.”
Y/N felt herself genuinely smiling for the first time in hours at her lover’s words. She was filled with such utter relief to be back in the safety of his arms. To be home, alive, and in love despite it all. Her heart felt like it would burst from all the love it held for Dazai Osamu.
“I love you,” she breathed, eyes meeting gentle brown once again. She was desperate for him to understand just how much she meant those words. To convey how safe he made her feel, and how much his presence comforted her. That no matter the danger she was in, she knew he would always be there for her.
“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied effortlessly, a part of him melting at the sight of her smile. He would burn the world just to keep that beautiful expression on her face. He made a silent vow to himself in that moment— no matter what it took, he would never lose her again.
The two eventually ended up in Dazai’s bed, practically clinging to one another as they shifted into a comfortable position. There would be no such thing as personal space that night. Y/N, who had been worried that the horrors she had faced would keep her exhausted body awake through the night, was pleasantly surprised to find that she was calm and content in Dazai’s embrace, already dozing off. He chuckled softly as her whole body relaxed against him.
“Sleep tight, my love. I’ve got you,” he mumbled into her hair, his warm breath fanning across her neck. She shivered and nuzzled herself further into his embrace, a soft smile on her face. No harm would come to her so long as she was in his arms.
Though they were both still riddled with guilt and turbulent emotions from the terrible night, they silently agreed to let go of their baggage for the time being and just appreciate one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.
Safe and home at last.
………………………………………………………………………………….
☆ note: yeahhhh dazai fic! i literally haven’t written in ages but i’ve been knee-deep in my bungo stray dogs era and dazai is taking up most of my brain capacity at the moment. this feels both rushed and wayyyy too long at the same time lol, i just had that feral writing energy and had to get it off my chest as soon as possible. it might be a mess but i’m exhausted and i’ve reread it too many times to catch all my mistakes lmaooo whatever. thanks so much for reading :)
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mugiwarahostclub · 9 months
Text
Some of the one piece men as boyfriends
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤluffy, zoro, sanji, ace, law,ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ shanks, bartolomeo editionㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤmale/fem/non bi reader ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤone piece world setting
— LUFFY
He'll interact with you the same way he does with his closest friends, but he would probably be careful when he carries you around just like he does with Robin. You'll have to initiate every hugs and kisses, cause he'll only jump on you and hug you first if you two haven't seen each other for a month or more. Over all, I think he'd treat you as a bestfriend rather than a lover, trying to make you laugh, making you the first person he shows random things to, etc.
Y/n: Hi Luffy~ Happy 3rd anniversary!
Luffy: ... Eh? Anniversary?
Y/n: Wh- Luffy, we've been dating for 3 years now...
Luffy: Yosh ! Anniversary ! Let's have Sanji cook *stretches himself to kitchen*
— ZORO
This guy values man codes or whatever, so he'd probably be the type to show affection towards you through actions, not words. Sick? Would quickly find the nearest pharmacy and give the medicine to Chopper. Hungry? Would kill the largest fish present and give it to you, it's up to you to cook it though. Sad? Well, he's not very good at comforting and will just end up telling you about the harsh reality of the world, then give you some wise advice afterwards like most grandpas do.
Y/n: Love you, Zoro
Zoro: Hm *cooly smirks with his eyes closed*
Y/n: ... I love you, Zoro
Zoro: *continues to smirk in a cool way, still staying silent cause he knows that you're aware deep down that he loves you back*
Y/n: Man.. just say it back
— SANJI
Boyfriend material. Would gladly simp and swoon over you. Sanji likes to make every woman feel like a princess though, so he'd still fanboy over girls and treat them well too. He would immediately reassure you after complimenting/serving a girl in front of you. Kissing them is where he'd draw a line. I mean, I would hope so.
Sanji to a random woman: Oh, your hair is just lovely~
Sanji: A-ah..! *quickly stands next to Y/n* Of course! Your hair is very lovely as well, Y/n! Oh~♡⁠ how the faint scent of your welcoming shampoo just wraps me around and— (he goes on for a few minutes)
— ACE
He'd be a supportive and loyal boyfriend, affectionate and would recklessly fight anyone who'll drag your name in the mud. Though he'll tell you a lot of stories about his little brother Luffy even though you didn't ask for them. If Luffy's around, he will probably not spend as much time with you like he'd normally do.
[ Y/n and Ace on a date ]
Ace: and then.. Luffy ran away, so me and Sabo also ran away! Hahahaha!
Y/n: Ahahahaha.. that's sooo funny... (has heard that story a million times already)
— LAW
It'll be hard to communicate with this guy, he's not the type to say what he's feeling at first. Though, as his feelings build up inside of him, he'd just eventually burst it all out soon in an angry manner. He'd probably give you physical affection with a straight face if you asked for it. I think he'd watch over you closely from time to time, walking up behind you just to tell you if something could damage your health. He won't force you to take care of yourself, but he will say 'i told you so' when you later suffer the consequences.
Y/n: *grabs chocolate from the fridge*
Law: *comes up from behind out of nowhere*
Y/n: Wha-? Law??? Where did you-?
Law: Chocolate at midnight is not very good... *walks away*
— SHANKS
I think he'd be a cute and shy boyfriend when he's sober. When he's drunk, maybe he could be a bit more honest with his feelings. Goodluck getting this guy to spend more time with you though, cause he'd probably use him being a captain as an excuse to not give you affection, when really he's just shy. He only tells you that he loves you when he's about to leave.
Y/n: Shanks! Let's go on a date!
Shanks: *blushes* .. oh.. haha, sorry Y/n, captain stuff-
Y/n: What? but you just got here
Shanks: Gotta go! Bye! *is already in a distance* Love you!
— BARTOLOMEO
Your relationship will consist of you, him.. and his unhealthy obsession with the strawhats.
Bartolomeo: Y/n, have you seen my limited edition Luffy figurine?!?!??
Y/n: Honey, it's 2 in the morning.. go back to bed....
Bartolomeo: ITS LIMITED EDITION, Y/N!
ㅤㅤ
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doumadono · 1 month
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SO SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU, MARCIANNA 🌹 I'd be delighted to order a cup of mango-vanilla ice-cream with maple syrup. I want my order to be served with post-war Dabi :3
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A/N: thank you so much, my sweetie! I hope you'll enjoy this little blurb!
5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA
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In the quiet corridors of the hospital, you found yourself standing outside Touya's room once again. The sterile scent of the hospital was now too familiar, but it was the sight of him lying so still, connected to machines and monitors, that never failed to break your heart.
With a heavy sigh, you walked into the room. "Hey, Touya," you whispered as if he could reply, pulling a chair next to his bed. "Today was another tough day, just like all the others since you've been asleep," you said softly, gently touching his still hand.
It had become a habit to share your day with him, updating him on the mundane details of life and the state of the world.
You visited him every day, sitting by his bedside, holding his hand, and whispering words of comfort, even if he couldn't hear them. Some nights, when the nurses were occupied and the world seemed to stand still, you stayed by his side, watching over him as if willing him to wake up with the power of your love alone.
Tears streamed down your face as you traced the lines of his scarred face, yearning for the spark of life to return to his turquoise eyes. The pain of seeing him like this weighed heavily on your heart, but you refused to give up hope.
One evening, as the setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, something miraculous happened.
As you sat beside him, holding his hand and lost in thought as you frequently did, you noticed a faint movement. Touya was wiggling in the bed, his body trying to adjust, even though he was still intubated.
Your heart raced as you realized what was happening. Without wasting a moment, you sprinted out of the room to find the doctors and nurses, calling for their immediate attention. "He's awake, he's awake!" You screamed like a maniac.
When you returned into the room, medical professionals in tow, Touya's turquoise eyes were open, his gaze slightly unfocused but undeniably awake. As the doctors worked to remove the tube from his throat, your heart leapt in your chest as you looked down at Touya, and his gaze found yours. It was as if the universe had heard your prayers, bringing him back to you.
Once the tube was removed, it took him a moment to focus all of his senses on being awake again. "Y/N?" he rasped, his voice hoarse from the tube.
Your name. His first action was calling out your name.
Tears of relief streamed down your face as you took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm here, Touya. I'm here."
A nurse quickly intervened, checking his vitals and ensuring that he was stable. As the room buzzed with activity, you stayed close, unwilling to leave his side.
"Thank you," Touya whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "For being here, for not giving up on me..."
You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "I told you I'd always be here, Touya. Always."
"I know how hard it was for you… I… Remember," he whispered, his words furrowing your brow.
"What do you mean?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.
"I heard your voice the whole time," he whispered, barely moving his lips. "But I couldn't respond. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't move or open my eyes. It felt like hell…"
"Shh, don't think about it now," you whispered, gently stroking his snow-white hair. "You need to rest, love. You've been through so much, your body needs to recover."
Touya tried to turn his head to see his body's condition, but you gently pushed his shoulder, urging him to lie back down. "Take it easy. You've had multiple surgeries, but don't worry. Your body is healing, and that's what matters."
He sighed heavily. "What happened with the war… with Shigaraki… Mom… the others?"
You blinked, surprised by his questions. "The war's over. The heroes won. All For One was defeated for good. Your mom and siblings are okay, they went home weeks ago. Midoriya saved Shigaraki. He's recovering in another hospital."
His lips twitched into a faint smile. "That's… good to hear…"
You gently stroked his shoulder. "This means you get a fresh start. Shoto told me what you said to him… that you didn't want to make it out of the battle alive." Your eyes filled with tears, and you began to cry uncontrollably, your body shaking with sobs. "But God's my witness, I would go through the hell itself for you if it meant saving you! I was so scared!" You let your emotions pour out, unable to hold them back any longer.
Touya watched you cry, his heart heavy. His hand shook slightly as he reached out to touch yours. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered. "I'm genuinely glad to be back. All I thought about in the darkness was you and your beautiful, gentle eyes. I just wanted to see them one last time… And now I can."
You gently rubbed the top of his hand. "And you'll get to see them every day because there's no way you're getting rid of me, Todoroki Touya."
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shrenvents · 28 days
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Professor Howlett
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Warnings: Minors dni, smut, no protection, fingering, vaginal, doggy, pet names, squirting, age gap (legal!)
Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Student (Mutant) reader
Summary: Your history professor always seemed uninterested in you, that was until you missed his class.
Word count: 2.6k
Throughout high school I’ve always kind of stood out. To be honest, I only have myself to blame. Bright colours and statement pieces are just so much more appealing, than wearing something ‘plain.’ Unfortunately, I did more than just “stand out” that day, just three weeks away from senior graduation. That fateful day, I was so close to the finish line, before my stupid ex-boyfriend discovered my secret, and outed it to the entire student body.
That I’m a mutant…
That was what led me across the coast, for most of the past year, running from god knows what. I heard the stories of mutants being hunted and gone missing, and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough, that I wouldn’t at least make it to my 20th birthday.
However, my days of swindling folks of cash and food came to a halt, when I spotted a man with red-tinted glasses watching me. His invested gaze observed my every movement, so I grabbed all my shit, and the last bit of petty change I managed to get, and sprinted into a crowd.
Just as I thought I was in the clear, my face collided with a colossal, firm chest. I pressed the heels of my palms into it, and felt the cotton of his white shirt, and the rough, yet smooth texture of his worn-in, leather jacket.
Logan Howlett, or should I say, Mr. Howlett, my history Professor... After he and Scott captured me, they dragged me by the ankles to their school for the “gifted.” I cringed when they said where we were headed, but once I arrived and saw all the kids, like me, going about their lives, free, I knew everything would be more than okay.
And one thing I knew for sure, is that I wouldn’t mind attending Mr. Howlett’s class. Did I know shit about history, yes. But I’ve always had a thing for the older guy, and from what I’ve heard, he’s more than enough in that department.
...
This morning, racing out of my room, I swore profusely at my tardiness... Just my luck. The one day that week I get to see and listen to Logan talk for an hour straight, my alarm malfunctions.
Multitasking between attempting to put on my hot-pink heels, wrapping my sparkly bag over my shoulder, and shutting my door, I missed the approaching figure behind me.
“It’s past 11 am, where do you think you’re headed?” I swivel on my toes, spinning to face Storm. “Class?”
“The only class you have left today kid, is at 2. You’ve managed to miss the rest already,” she scolds flatly.
“Noooo,” I fake astonishment and defeat, as I slowly back away from Storm's scrutinizing stare. She calls my name after I’ve taken at least two large steps backward. “Logan wants to see you,” she states, exasperated.
“Oh?” I straighten out, stopping my next step short. “Ok!” I exclaim, a little too perky. She huffs a faint smirk and walks off, and I take flight, zooming to Logan’s class, where he’s most likely dozed off.
Lo and behold, after knocking once and receiving no response, I open the door to see him snoring. With his legs fully extended, and feet resting on his desk, I bask in his lengthy physic. I giggle and then go towards him.
Mr. Howlett?” I say, clearing my throat loudly, he grunts in his sleep and I smile. “Mr. Howlett?” I say even sweeter. A second later, I swear he mumbles my name and my heart stutters, but he’s still sleeping. I move in closer to his ear. “Logan,” I announce rigidly, and my change in tone makes him flinch, legs falling off the table, eyes popping open.
He rasps my name, voice echoing through the classroom. I refused to move away from my position, wanting to seem unaffected by him, but I was anything but. With his lazy eyes roaming over my skin, my heart races wildly. He clears his throat, and rolls his eyes away after taking in my attire, as he usually does —gives me a once-over, and rolls his eyes back to his focus on his lecture.
“You missed class, that isn’t like you,” he notes, almost to himself.
“Yes and I’m sorry-“
“I hope it wasn’t because you were too busy picking that outfit.” Logan scoffs and my eyes widen. He’s always made snarky comments, and this wasn’t anything new, but every time he does, I can’t help the boiling feeling in my lungs, that makes me rise to defend myself. “No, maybe I just felt like sleeping in?” I declare. A short-lived chuckle escapes him. “And you’re just gonna admit to that?” He smirks as he faces me. “I don’t like kids skipping my class.”
“First off, I’m an adult, second, you don’t care when kids skip your class,” I retort, with a growing smile, beaming across my face. Though, his complimentary smile, drops as mine comes to full form. He’s never seemed fond of my smile, or maybe it’s just me.
“You don’t skip my class.” He states once again, and my head quirks in confusion. “Um, I’m sorry?” I compromise, “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” He remarks dangerously. My brows furrow.
“Okay, I don’t get why it matters so much to you Mr. Howlett.” I place my hands on my hips, gazing down at him in his chair like I'm reprimanding a child. Which he is not akin to.
He lifts from his chair, standing up. I gasp as he towers over me. “Watch your tone, or I’ll fail ya,” he counters, fighting a smirk, staying stoic. “What?” I yelp and his smirk breaks through. My jaw goes slack. “Mr. Howlett, that’s not funny!”
“What’s not funny, is you pretending like calling me 'Mr. Howlett,' doesn’t turn you on.”
I freeze in disbelief. Was this one of my daydreams? Am I really awake right now?
“You heard me, you damn highlighter,” he asserts. “Call me Logan for fucks sake, if you’re a damn adult.” His scratchy voice loses its humour, and I stay frozen to the spot. “Get outta here, would ya,” Logan orders as he leisurely retakes his seat, getting comfortable for his next nap.
Unable to drag myself away, my eyes refocus on the subject of my desires. “Why do I have such a thing for assholes.”
Before Logan can respond angrily, I sit on his lap, dropping my purse to the floor, and straddling his hips. I cup his perplexed face and crash our mouths together, moulding them into one. He grunts in surprise as if he didn’t expect me to retaliate, as if he didn’t expect that I would want him this way.
He half-heartedly pulls away between kisses, whispering my name in small protests, but he gets muffled by my lips and grinds on his lap. Quickly, his objections turn into fierce groans. He takes my hips into his hands, tightly gripping into my flesh as he pushes me back, onto his desk. I whimper as his crotch stays glued to my core, even as we move. One hand then moves from my hip to my neck, holding it, then slowly sliding to my jaw, grasping it in a hungry, pressing kiss. His tongue laps my mouth, completely dominating me, and I struggle to breathe.
Just as I’m about to pull away to comment on how desperate he seems, his other hand flips me over with ease. My stomach is now on top of his desk, his crotch, like iron against my ass, and his hands trace down from my shoulder blades, to my bum. With my head hung over the desk, I pant, practically drooling.
“You’re asking for detention pinky,” he mutters, and I respond by pushing back into his hard cock. “I'm a sucker for extra attention teach,” I mention, as sensually as I could muster. He chuckles lowly, and I shudder. The pressure of his dick doesn’t change, and his hands continue their unhurried venture of me. “You like attention sweets?” Logan questions softly. His tone makes me shiver and whimper, yet again. “I like yours.”
“Just mine?” He questions darkly, telling me he doesn’t actually want any opposition. “Yes,” I whisper.
His voice drops an octave as he swears, rolling his hips into me once. I moan loudly. “Shhhh princess, you tryna alert the entire building?” He asks with amusement evident. I shake my head, no, and he laughs by my ear as he dips down. “Good, because I don’t like sharing your attention,” he says passively. “And I’d like to be the only ‘asshole,’ that gets to see what’s under these ridiculous clothes.”
“Hey!” I object meekly. I feel him smile as he leans away from my ear, and I turn my head over my shoulder to watch him peer down at where our bodies meet. “You probably want me to fuck you on this desk.” He speaks as though I’m not there to hear him. “Ya probably want to be taken here so that every time you’re sitting in my class, you can vividly imagine me deep inside you.” He trails off as his hand pushes up my shirt, touching my lower back.
“But we can’t do that,” he sighs hoarsely.
“Why?” My reply is so quick that I grimace.
“Because, if we did, I’d be hard every time I’m in this fucking room, and that isn’t the smartest idea.” I moan at his crudeness and gasp when he pecks my naked spine, just below my bra clip. “Even your lingerie is pink huh?” He laughs smoothly. “Imagined it would be.” My legs rub together instinctively at his words.
“You imagined it?”
He pauses. “Hell yeah I did, though I tried to fight it,” he muses in between a groan. “It didn’t take me long to figure you wanted this too, princess,” he murmurs pleasantly.
After a long beat of silence and a little grinding, I speak up. “So now what? If you’re not going to make love to me here.”
He slowly pushes the hair over my face, behind my ear, tilting my head to face him just a bit. He then leans down and kisses me on the cheek.
“I’ll come to you,” is all Logan says as he reluctantly wrenches himself from me, after giving my ass cheek a mild slap. I yelp and nearly pout at the loss of touch. We hold eye contact as he backs away. “Get going, otherwise you’ll be late,” he comments airily. I nod and scurry out the room, with a grin plastered on my face.
...
After a long, vigorous rest of the day. I collapse into my plushy bed with a sigh.
“Took you long enough,” a dark voice rings, with a hint of familiar sass. I jolt up to see Logan leaning on my wardrobe. His tight shirt is only more strained as his arms cross. “Been waiting to ‘make love' to ya all day,” he claims, with a mocking tone, repeating my "childish" words from earlier. My best guess is that he assumes I’m a virgin.
So, in an attempt to remedy my reputation, sitting up on my bed, with my arms bracing my figure, I slowly spread my bent legs. I bite my bottom lip, and his eyes shift down and blacken. “Get on with it then, Logan.” I roll my tongue as his name teasingly leaves my mouth. His head twitches in an almost feral manner, and I gulp.
“You’re asking for it,” is all he mumbles before pouncing on me. Our limbs tangle and I moan as his leg presses into my clothed clit. “Please,” I just about sob, to which he responds with an aggressive kiss and another crushing rub of his thigh. I moan louder, and he grunts, “You like that?” I push my hands into his hair, running my fingers through his thick locks. He lets out a coarse groan.
Loving how vocal he is, I decide to encourage him by groping his cock over his rugged jeans. “Fuck, baby,” he groans out when his mouth leaves mine. He then runs his tongue over my neck and collar, soon nibbling on my earlobe. His thigh continues to make work of me, and I match his pace. “You're so dirty,” he grins while his nose brushes my rosy cheek, and then he's kissing me. “I love it,” he professes with amusement, again, coating his tone.
Just as I begin undoing his belt, he flips me over on my stomach like before. Then, when I'm lying flat underneath him, he grabs my hips, to lift them towards his crotch as he kneels above. “I better see a pink thong,” he jokes as he strips me bare. He groans in satisfaction as I’m left in just my underwear for his viewing. “Unreal,” Logan practically purrs.
I wiggle my ass playfully, and he growls and smacks it harder than he did in his classroom. I squeal into my pillow, briskly going quiet when I hear his belt being ripped from the loops of his denim. Leaving my underwear in place, he runs his digits over the lace, making me whine, "Logan."
With his name on my tongue, it shortly turns into a cry as the lace covering my clit gets moved to the side, and two meaty fingers dive into me. "Shit, princess," he rasps. "How am I gonna fit?" He asks rhetorically, and I choke a sob, as he wastes no time building up an energetic pace, with his fingers.
He swiftly tears an orgasm from my trembling body, still holding my hips up with one hand. When his fingers leave, I hear his mouth clean them, and I swing my head to face him hastily, but he shoves my head back into my pillow. "So eager," he more or less snickers.
"Very," my smothered voice emits, barely audible.
I nearly shriek when his tip swipes my wet slit. Logan, without notice, suddenly pushes himself inside me, with an agonizing slowness, but I quietly persist. "Atta girl, that's it," he lazily groans out encouragements. My hands pathetically slide onto his thighs, unsure if I'm urging him for more, or begging for discretion.
At once, he shoves himself in all the way, and I let out an extensive sigh. His palm, which was just holding down my head, joins his other hand on my abandoned hip. He lets out various curses, along with my name, and begins to move, in and out. Soon enough, he's pounding into me at a savage rate, completely untamed. As well, it seems purposeful, how he simultaneously bends down to growl and moan in my ear, still thrusting.
He stirs another orgasm, still notably, not experiencing his own. "You look real pretty like this princess," he begins to ramble. "Gonna do this every fucking day." The rest of what he says gets lost in translation, as I grow overwhelmed and overstimulated.
Thoughtlessly, I try to crawl away while he still has my lower half hoisted up. Once Logan realizes what I'm up to, my pitiful effort has him laughing. "Where ya going?"
"Lo, it's too much-"
"Lo? Call me that again, it's cute," he hums.
"No more," I whimper, ignoring him.
"Just one more baby," Logan coos, while somehow increasing his pace, making me cum instantly, squirting a little. His moan rumbles in his chest, and he doesn't stop hammering into me. I grip my headboard, and one of his arms stretches alongside mine, to do the same.
When he cums, his grip snaps the wood, breaking a part of the headboard, making me shout in between sobs. He seems to not notice the damage, too busy finishing on my backside.
After a long minute, he slumps his large frame beside me. One of his arms stays drifting across my skin as his eyes intently coast over my features. "Maybe consider skipping my class more often," Logan expresses as his lips slightly tip upward. He presses his lips onto my shoulder. I smile, giggling, "Why?"
"Cause it doesn’t matter where I fuck you, there's nowhere I won't get hard looking at that pretty face," he smiles dreamily, "And you're impractical wardrobe.”
I giggle, "You truly have a way with words," I pause and smirk, "Mr. Howlett."
He rises onto his elbow with a devilish grin, "Now you're really asking for it princess."
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cyberfreaky · 8 months
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PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY 彡 — KINKTOBER EDITION 
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— jake loves seeing his pretty girl cry, especially when it’s his fault.
tags: mean/toxic-ish!jake. sensitive!reader. p n v. clit stimulation. nipple stimulation. creampie. subtle breeding kink. daddy kink. dirty talk. pet names. mild dacryphilia. age gap (21 & 38). fingering. subtle tummy bulge.
masterlist ♡
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it didn't take a genius to figure out your olo'eyktan favoured you most amongst the clan. he wasn't exactly subtle with his favouritism towards you, and he expressed it in several ways. giving you the easiest duties, plenty special treatment, being completely lax about your actions while scorning anyone else for doing the same. was it unfair? sure. but jake couldn't care less about what the anyone thought, and it wasn't like you were complaining about it, either.
these behaviours only brought the two of you closer, and jake had become more than your leader. you confided in him about anything and everything. he would happily listen to everything you'd vent, cry, babble or gossip about. you'd quickly grown to not just being his favourite amongst the clan, but his favourite person in general. jake loved the trust you held with him, how comfortable you'd become around him, the way you basically situated yourself permanently into his life. he adored you.
as much as jake loved you — pushing your buttons was something he couldn't help himself from doing. you were so easy to rile up and piss off, always giving jake the desired reaction he craved each and every time. it'd always end up with you sobbing, and he secretly enjoyed pushing you to that point.
it was the night after jake had made you cry for the millionth time. he’d claimed you weren’t the ‘prettiest’ girl in the clan, and boasted about how much more attractive the other women were. being the insecure girl you were - this destroyed you. and you’d avoided him all day, just like always. jake hadn’t bothered chasing you up and left you to your own devices. he’d make it up to you eventually, you never stayed away.
you were in your hut, wallowing in your own self-pity after yesterdays ordeal. you'd been avoiding jake all day, and it wasn't that difficult. surprisingly enough, he'd been doing the exact same to you.
you held your laundry in your arms, hanging them to dry on a makeshift drying line made of twine. it was positioned just outside the large opening in your hut, giving the morning sun the perfect opportunity to dry your tewngs and coverings once it rose the following morning.
just like clockwork, you felt a familiar presence in the doorway of your hut. there was a leering shadow that appeared on the floor, jake's scent was so acquainted with your senses at this point. you didn't bother to turn around and face him, refusing to give him even that little satisfaction. you continued on with your chores, a small pout on your lips while you worked in silence.
"still mad at me, huh?"
silence.
"sweetheart, i was jokin'. stop actin' like a child." jake sighed with annoyance, raking his fingers through his thick locs.
silence.
"y'know, you can't stay mad at me forever."
you scoffed at those words, knowing damn well you were just as stubborn as he was. while you kept your back to him, you did pipe up this time. "yes i can."
jake, being the man he was, took your response as a challenge. he entered into your hut with a smirk, taking a few strides over to where you hung your clothing. you were far too irresistible to walk away from.
his fingertips danced across your soft sides, circling across the smoothness of your azure skin. he was merely testing the waters and gauging your reaction to his touch - and you had gone with the route of simply ignoring him. jake found this comical, he had mesmerised your body to a T. only he could notice that very faint squirm, and that was invitation enough for jake to continue with his plan on earning your forgiveness.
"the silent treatment doesn't work with me, darlin'. y'should know this by now." jake says, embracing your smaller frame from behind and pressing his body against yours. his arms coiled around your waist, childishly interfering with your hands as you tried to hang your laundry.
it took everything within you not to smack his hands away, he kept purposely grabbing the fabric and trying to snatch it from your grasp. it didn't help that his chin was rested on your shoulder, chuckling lowly to himself as he watched your frustration grow by the second. it only heightened his excitement.
"i hate you." you grumbled at jake, though you made no effort to push him away. you gave up on doing your task after his annoying tactics made it nearly impossible.
"oh, you hate me? is that right?" jake mocked you lovingly, his breath warm on the nape of your neck. "don't kid yourself, hon. 'ya love me."
you both stood in front of the dark opening of your hut, your narrowed eyes staring off into the distance as you kept your anger in tact. you refused to let him get the upper hand of whatever this was - it wasn't fair in your eyes. he'd hurt your feelings, and now he thought he could fuck you as an apology. you wished jake would just apologise instead of trying to brush everything off with sex...though, you still made no attempt at stopping him.
"no, i don't."
jake found your stubbornness that even more enticing. his rough hands began to trail up your body, feeling every inch of your smooth exterior with his fingertips. "well, i love you. so damn much." he whispered in your ear, his voice had grown much more lustful than before. he peppered kisses behind the lobe, making it even harder for you to resist him.
you felt jake's touch creep up to your chest, moving beneath the thin fabric of your chest covering. your breath hitched as his hands cupped your full breasts, kneading the soft skin of your flesh. "i love your pretty tits." he drawled, his thumb toying with your hard nipple.
an involuntary whimper escaped your throat, feeling yourself growing weaker in jake's arms. he kept his lips trailing across your neck and shoulder, gently nipping at the skin as his fingers pinched the sensitive nubs.
while jake massaged one of your tits, his other hand made it's way down to your tewng. just from his subtle touch alone, your arousal was already seeping through the fabric. your body jerked as jake palmed your wet cunt, his thumb pressing on your needy clit. you were puddy in his hands now, and there was no point in fighting back. his voice was low and sensual, almost groaning in your ear. "i love your sweet pussy."
"jake.." you warn him quietly, your knees buckling once his thumb began to rub circles into your bundle of nerves. you couldn't take it anymore, but still, you were adamant about standing your ground. "stop it." your voice was meek and breathless, still making no effort to push jake away.
"stop what?" jake smiled at your feigned hesitance, his long fingers exploring your sopping folds. he'd prod your entrance teasingly with two fingers, before sliding them inside your heat. "y'don't want me anymore or somethin'?"
your legs were on the brink of giving out, your golden eyes rolling back while jake fingered your cunt. "...y-you were mean to m-me yesterday..." you argued through breathless moans, biting harshly on your bottom lip as he began to pump his thick digits in and out.
jake would keep that slow, devilish pace - chuckling at your meek response. "don't be so sensitive, baby. you know i was kiddin'." he'd drawl, keeping that devilish pace between your soft thighs. you were so pathetic, a needy mess who couldn't even speak up for herself. jake loved it. "c'mon, let daddy make it up to you."
the older man could talk you into anything, that tone of voice and choice of words had you weak for him. of course you wanted him to make it up to you - of course you wanted him to fuck you dumb. why couldn't you have more backbone?
it wasn't long before jake had thrown you on the bed, the weight of his heavy body looming on top you. you could almost feel your breath restricting from the position, his bulky arms had you folded in half like a rag-doll. your soft thighs were pressed against your chest - taking every, rough thrust with shallow breaths.
"...auughh....f-ffuck, baby.." jake groaned, his forehead pressed against yours as he fucked you deep. your tight pussy had him seeing stars, the way you squeezed around his cock nearly made him cum right then and there. "...mm, couldn’t stay mad at me, could ‘ya?”
your sweet moans filled his ears, sharp nails clawing at his back while he pounded you relentlessly. jake could feel how good he was making you feel, how desperate you were for him. it'd made the older man smile as he leaned down to kiss you, swallowing those pretty sounds of pleasure.
the feeling was euphoric, his thick cock bullied into you harder and harder with each passing second. you had a hellish lock on jake's neck as he thrusted inside you, the ferocity of his movements causing your smaller body to jerk and bounce. you were like his little sex-toy, the perfect girl he could use whenever he wanted. and quite frankly? you didn't mind. you knew how easy you were.
"jesus...feel how deep daddy is." jake chuckled, taking your nimble hand and pressing it against your tummy.
you could feel his cock ramming inside you, the fat tip hitting your sweet spot and making you mewl in response. "o-oh my god." your eyes began to glaze over with tears, the pleasure was becoming almost overwhelming.
jake saw the tears roll down your flushed cheek, and the sight alone made his arousal peak. he picked up his pace, pounding you even harder as he watched you cry. "poor darlin', feels s'good, don't it?" he crooned meanly, his heavy balls slapping against your slick folds with every thrust. "yr'such a crybaby."
"..c-can't help it." you sobbed, your voice meek and breathless.
the older man smirked at your response, pressing his warm lips on your cheek and gently lapping up your tears. "so pretty when you cry." he'd moan against your skin, his kisses finding their way to your mouth and locking lips with you once again.
you could both hear how wet you were, as jake pulled out slowly and slammed back into you. his own voice had become hoarse, hips jittering faintly as he felt his climax building inside. "christ...this pussy was made jus' f'me, huh?"
"s'all yours, daddy." you sniffled, amber eyes rolling back in your head as he kept hitting the one spot that made your toes curl.
you kept whimpering tiredly, your face nuzzled into jake's shoulder as he stretched your pussy out. you were barely receptive at this point, instead broken down into cries and blabbering moans. how could you speak at this point? jake had gotten the better of you. it didn't matter how many times he made you upset, you'd always end up getting fucked dumb as a result.
jake's hand caressed your jaw, grabbing it gently and forcing you to look into his eyes. "that's right. all mine." he grunted brutishly, keeping half-lidded eye contact with you while he stuffed you full.
that familiar twisting was brewing in the pit on your stomach, and your sweet release was so fucking close. it was a high you were chasing, and it was addictive. a few more hard strokes and you'd be gushing all over the bedsheets.
but you underestimated jake as always. he was an asshole.
the older man could feel your soft walls clenching around his twitching cock. his baby was so damn close, but he didn't feel like giving you that satisfaction just yet. jake suddenly slowed down his thrusts, going at at agonising pace that made you whine loudly in response. "faster!"
he grinned at your pleas, the tips of his canines grazing along the side of your neck. "nah." jake simply taunted you, nipping at your skin with that smug smirk. "wanna hear 'ya beg me."
your tears of frustration welled up once more, and you had put aside all embarrassment. it pained jake to pull himself out, his hips hovering above yours as his tip slid through your soaking folds. you were crying hellishly below him, feeling him rub and tease your clit. all with that damn smile on his face.
"p-please."
jake tsk'ed at your response, prodding your needy entrance again and refusing to slide back in. "gotta do better than that, hon." he drawled, taking in your screwed up expression and misty eyes. eywa, you were so beautiful. so needy. "c'mon, use yr'big girl words."
as he kept nudging your sensitive clit, you couldn't handle it anymore. "please fuck me, daddy!"
your face flushed with pure embarrassment, and you looked away in shame from speaking so lewdly. but it paid off once you heard jake chuckle lowly, giving your raw lips a soft kiss as he buried his cock deep inside you once more. "much better."
all that shame meant nothing once you felt jake pounding into you just like before. you moaned in his ear, the squelch of your dripping pussy grew louder as jake slammed his hips against yours. it was so rough and fast — the absolute perfect pace.
jake's brows furrowed as he felt his climax approaching, forehead pressed against yours once against as he fucked you like his own personal fleshlight. the older man's head dipped down to your chest, lips attaching to one of your soft tits and sucking at your hard nipple. the added stimulation made your back arch off the bed, forcing your breasts harder against his face.
you kept squeezing hellishly around his cock, indicating you were nearly there. jake wasn't far off either, and he made it clear with how rough his groans had become. "f-ffuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up." he whispered in your ear, his thrusts not faltering as his release rapidly approached. "y'want that, hm?"
"y—yes!" you nodded frantically, your nails digging so deep in his back that blood began to draw. "need it s'bad, daddy. wanna b-be stuffed."
that was all jake needed to hear.
he smashed his lips against yours again, wanting to stifle both your moans as you reached your orgasms in tandem. you were practically screaming, the high-pitched moans were silenced by his tongue shoving its way into your mouth. jake's eyes were screwed shut as his hips began to jitter, breaking off the kiss to catch his breath as spurts of his warm seed filled your pussy. you mewled at the sensation as you came hard, coating his thick cock in your milky cum.
jake's body fell on top of yours, neither of you able to speak as he continued to fuck his cum inside your creamy pussy. his movements were sluggish and languid, the sticky release dripping out of your hole and dripping onto the mattress below you. each thrust made you squirm, leaving you a sobbing mess beneath the older man.
his golden eyes would soon open, both your foreheads pressed against each others as he snickered tiredly. "you forgive me now?"
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— all rights reserved © cyberfreaky (2023) do not repost, translate or copy my work without given permission.
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mingisaddctn · 9 months
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unholy | j.yh
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Pairing: preacher's son!yunho x reader Genre:[smut] yunho disguised as the devil brainrot Warnings: religious themes, corruption kink a/n: yea.
(also, sidenote, but it was kinda hard translating some of the christian terms bc i grew up with those but in my native language so bear w me
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it always came back to that golden cross.
the token of Christ that he held around his neck, dangling on his chest as if it held the symbolism of carrying the holy figure in his heart.
ha. the irony of that.
you watched intently as the tall boy stood in the background. he didn't blend in, even with the gelled-back hair, white dress shirt and the gentle smile that was plastered all over. they all dressed the same, spoke the same, stood the same, but he somehow, his presence was the only one everyone seemed to focus on.
some could say it was the divine light that chose him, and no one would dare to oppose. how could they? not when the boy did everything to grace his image. an impeccable reputation, something not even the son of Christ himself got before meeting his end, being the towns sole preachers son almost faded in line of all the things jeong yunho was;
hard working student, star athlete, gracious volunteer, cheerful friend, sweet lover and darling son. sinful con-artist.
your father clapped alongside the people, cheering for the homily, he made sure to glance in your direction to ensure his own ego that you were being a good girl and paying attention.
he wanted you to fill those big shoes just as much as he wanted to slap your mother across the face every time she burned the food, leading her to fill another glass of wine and fall asleep alone on the couch, but still waking up earlier than everyone to pretend to be the very good wife that she was graced to be, offered just as young as you were now, by her own father, and the only thing she got in return was a sole golden cross to hang on her neck—a mark, a stamp that stated where and to whom she belonged—not your father, no.
but God.
"make sure to shake the preacher's hand" your father spat, oh-so-loyal to his master, shaking its tail as one of the sheep in the flock.
and you did. the mass had already ended when you approached the altar, under the watchful eye of the big wooden cross as you picked at your cuticles. in line, alongside your mother who held the weight of submission on her back, shrinking almost into a ball, you held your hands together waiting for your turn to thank the old man for doing his job.
"smile" your father told you.
and you did. borrowing one of the various features, doing your best impression of the good daughter, the most innocent sheep.
but the eyes of the predator followed around. to anyone, it would be just a caring gaze, but you knew what came within, the dark pair of eyes making your skin tingle and stomach churn.
you avoided it. you knew the consequences but you did anyway. you knew that later, when the blue darkened into the night and no lights would be seen within a mile radius, he would strip you out of wool, pierce your organs and drink from it as if it were the blood of Christ.
and when the birds went into hiding and dark hues shadowed the figures around, you found yourself shaking your leg frantically, looking between the clock on your nightstand and the closed window with lacy curtains that protected you so foolishly from the outside world.
it was close to time to leave when you heard the wine glass clinking downstairs. you put down the bible, shallow breaths forming inside your chest as you opened the window, jumping onto the dry grass that your father never cared to water. why would he do anything that didn't come with god's name attached to it?
approaching the same chapel you stood in this morning, you saw a faint light of an oil lamp coming from the backside, with it, came the following gaze that haunted you every other day, and you could smell the faint scent of soap in his clothes. not a wrinkle, not a stain, shirt as white as heaven, eyes as dark as sin.
he smiled as you came closer. not his usual one, but the one he reserved for those nightly escapades of yours—and your heart pounded from the knowledge that it was for you. you noticed that he was chomping on an apple, the sweet scent of the fruit adorning your nostrils as you stood idly in front of him. a small light reflected on the small piece of gold that hid on his chest.
with his hand up, he held the viciously red apple in front of your eyes. you didn't eat a lot at dinner because a fight between your parents broke out, and you were already sick from attending mass—ever since you started meeting the boy outside, sundays never felt the same—so the sight of a lustrous, full and juicy fruit did the trick on you.
you reached to grab it, but he retreated his offer.
"nuh-uh" he said. "open up."
and as a good girl, you did, allowing to be fed by the same fingers that found its way into your deepest parts. the same ones that dragged along your skin and touched wherever you claimed to be forbidden by the eyes of the lord. but how could it be so wrong? not when his touch felt that good.
yunho smiled at the sight of you biting into the fruit. you had no idea what he was thinking most of the time, but when he smiled like that, it was real.
"come" he said as he opened the back door, discarding the core on the grass. the evidence of it only being the sweet taste left on your lips, now to linger forevermore.
following him inside, you two reached the same familiar room where you grew up going in and out of. the wooden cabinets surrounding you, full of things that were meaningless without being held at the altar on sunday mornings.
the sacristy was somewhere you spent a lot of time organizing things as a volunteer, helping the altar boys and doing your part as part of the church, being the prideful gem of your community. but would they think so if they knew that your only reason to do it was so you could see more of the golden boy?
you could never lie when someone teased you about being too infatuated with the boy. your cheeks would heat up and heart would pound like crazy, to the point where you always worried if you were on the verge of dying or exploding. you first met him at the church, following him around as if he was your pastor, the one that would lead and save you.
then it was at school, but the meetings would always be brief, since he was always busy with school work or sports. you could never catch him alone, there was always crowds around him wherever he went, and you knew you fell into the category of being another one in his flock, but then he caught you staring that one sunday after mass, while he played the organ and no one was around for once.
"you always stare" he said, his voice velvety and seemingly to be something made by God's hands Himself "but you never say anything. are you scared of me?"
shaking your head, you looked down to your shoes, fingers picking at your cuticles.
you knew he was observant, too. most of the times you stared, he caught you, but he never said anything—that's how thoughtful he was, and that was one of the many things that made your young heart belong to him.
before you could even answer, your father called you from the sacristy, and you left, escaping from those warm, chocolate eyes.
but that was the day when things changed; the day he made you aware that he knew of your hobby of watching, because the next sunday, you caught him sneaking wine from one of those big wooden cabinets.
it was before mass, when you found yourself in the sacristy, opening the door without announcing, not expecting anyone to be there. but then you found the boy leaning by the entrance, drinking from the chalice as he watched you closely, his eyes never leaving you.
it shattered you on the inside. the sharp dress shirt he always wore to mass now held a deep stain by the collar, and everything about him seemed so messy. but what hurt the most was to see his eyes turn dark, something you never expected to see.
and it seemed to exhilarate him, the thought of you being the only one knowing. he knew you watched, and he wanted to give you a show.
on christmas night, when the mass would be held late, you stood behind to help clean up and organize the things from the short play held by the community. it was almost the next day and even the preacher had left, but you were folding the costumes and reassembling the scenery.
it wasn't rare for you to be alone in the church, at some point you even had the keys, but something felt eerie about that night. and then you heard a noise. it was indistinguishable at first, and you thought that someone could have returned and maybe got hurt, so you left the sacristy and went to the main hall.
now the sounds grew louder, and your heart pounded in its cage. it scared you, you thought someone might've gotten hurt, but you kept on going, trying to see where the noises were coming from.
stepping lightly, you heard another moan of what you thought was pain, coming from the confessional, the small door closed, but the sounds coming through.
"h-hello?" you called, no response.
approaching closer, your fingers held the handle and you took a deep breath, opening it slowly.
and you were met with dark eyes, the same ones that corrupted you before, the same ones who disguised themselves all this time, fooling everyone who dared to stare back. the same gaze you longed for, but now dreaded.
yunho leaned against the confessional wall, hair disheveled and the dress shirt half open. he panted, and the air inside felt heavy. moans sung by the heart shaped lips, the same ones you wondered if they were hand painted in heaven, now sounding so shameless, making sounds so sinful as he fisted his cock.
but the way your body reacted, your stomach felt like melting, and your face held too much heat. you didn't know you could sweat from other places, but your undergarments were now drenched. and that's when he grabbed your wrist, leading your hand to fall on top of his, enveloping his warm member into your palms.
you knew you were supposed to feel disgusted. you knew you were supposed to go back to your house, pray and go to sleep, but how could you when your hand was melting into his, and the noises he made when you moved your wrist were so forbidden it tasted good?
his pants became heavier and heavier, and the movements grew faster, then he spurted on your fingers and brought them to his own mouth.
seeing as you didn't move, he pulled your wrist, making your face fall closer to his, and then placed both of your fingers between your mouths, giving them a long lick, tasting his fluids.
"this is because of your staring" he claimed, placing yours and his digits into your mouth, making you jolt in shock. "do you know how hard it is to pretend not to see it?"
you did what you did best; you watched him. both of your fingers now resting on your tongue and the bitterness of his release mixing with your saliva.
"take it. prove it to me" he stared back. "prove that you want me."
it was over for you when you sucked on his skin involuntarily.
after that, he would ravish your body and sing prayers as his tongue tasted the sheen coat of sweat all over you. all week he portrayed the golden boy, the blessed child; but sundays, his mind became possessed by you.
now, back in present, he was holding the same golden chalice, signaling for you to grab the bottle of wine sitting next to you.
"will you open that for me?" he asked, voice coated in velvet that rubbed against your ears.
you took the cork off and he waited for you to serve the chalice, but before you could, he stopped himself, as if he had just gotten a new, better idea. he sat on the cushioned armchair behind the desk, pulling you closer by the hem of your thin camisole, face laying lower than yours, to the point you had to look down.
"pour me a drink, please?" you could've swore you'd seen the small, sheer glimpse of those same warm eyes for a moment. but it had to be just your mind playing tricks on you.
the boy sat under you with his fingertips grazing against your thighs as he opened his mouth, waiting for you to serve him. he knew that no matter what he asked of you, you would do it, no questions asked.
you started pouring the wine into his mouth, watching as the deep, dark liquid pooled onto his tongue as he closed his eyes, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed every last drop. mesmerized and lost in his godly features, you tilted the bottle a little more than you should, letting some of the wine drip on his skin, a small, faint line leaving its trace from the corner of his mouth to his neck.
he gave your thigh a small squeeze, and you stopped all motion as his eyes shot open, tongue licking his lower lip to not waste any alcohol.
"c'mon, darling, it's not time to make a mess yet" he laughed, the hearty laugh you grew up replaying inside your mind, giggling with your feet in the air. "clean that up now, will ya?"
you just nodded, turning on your feet to grab a napkin when he stopped you, pulling your legs closer in a quick move, making you fall onto straddling his strong thighs.
"you know what I meant by that" he watched every singular move your irises did closely, keeping track of your thoughts as if he could read them.
biting your lip, you looked at where the wine stained his cheek, and leaning forward, you gave it an experimental small lick. not daring to lean back, knowing that he wouldn't leave you alone with that following eye contact, you went lower, reaching for his neck, the tip of your tongue following the trace of a vein that stood under the fair skin.
the deep rumble of his groan trembled from your tongue to the rest of your body, accommodating itself inside your lower abdomen, a spot of wetness that began to stick to yunho's dress pants.
"I haven't even touched you properly, dear" he whispered into your ear as you kept on licking him clean "and you're already getting wet?"
your breath faltered and, ashamed, you hid your face into the crook of his neck. but he never ran from what he wanted, when he wanted—that's when you felt his long, cold fingers sliding inside your panties, the fingerprints embedded on your folds as he played around with the slick.
"y-yun—" you let out a whimper, your fingernails leaving half-crescent marks onto his shoulder.
"huh, what is it?" he asked, whispers into your ears and engraving his voice into your soul as his fingers pinched your clit, making a squeal leave your lips. "what is it that you want the most?"
you bit into his skin, chills running down your spine and cold sweat forming on your nape, could even be mistaken for a chilly breeze in the middle of that hot summer night.
when he slid a finger inside you, you could swear that your heart almost got stuck into your throat. placing your hand on top of your mouth, you tried to control the noises you were now making in union to the newly-found friction.
you found yourself nipping on your cuticles involuntarily, being too swayed by the waves of pleasure and emotional burst, but he caught it. he always did.
"oh no... you hurt yourself" he grabbed your hand with his free one, scanning it, watching as a small button of blood formed where your teeth bit into, it was a tic, you always picked at your fingers, and making it bleed wasn't news, but he seemed disappointed.
and then he put your fingers into his mouth, and sucked on the blood. eyes not leaving yours as you stared back, brows furrowed, a moan leaving the confines of your lips as you felt the texture of his tongue swirling around your digits.
with his free hand, he kept on moving, fingers in and out, pressing the sweet spot that was reserved for him, and only him. you weren't bounded by marriage, nor you thought you would be too soon, but under the severe gaze of god, you were his and he was yours.
the knot that formed on your stomach grew tighter and tighter while he sucked on your fingers and pressed inside you. the bulge in his pants causing friction when you rolled your hips desperately, using his body for your own selfish needs.
soon, the release came, washing over you as a cozy blanket of pure comfort, and you slumped onto his upper body, being held in arms as a cage, knowing that, even when he was the threat, he was the savior.
"you seem pretty found of this" he noted, and then you came to your senses to see that you were gripping to his golden cross.
leaning back, he unclasped the gold chain, the other hand that was nestled inside you left the warmth, the coldness of the slick on your panties meeting your lower lips and making you shiver slightly.
"I want you to have it" he said, placing the other hand on top of your lips, forcing them open, placing the cross on your tongue, and his wet fingers on top of it, pressing. drool began to form on the corner of your lips as you gazed at him with half lidded eyes. "god... how can you be so beautiful?"
in a quick frenzy, you suddenly found yourself on the top of the altar, legs spread and the weight of the golden cross now falling on your chest. yunho kissed your legs, leaving deep purple marks inside, places where only he could see them. he lost his dress shirt along the way, and his pants were unbuttoned, only a matter of time for him to lower his boxers to reveal the hard cock stuck in its confinements.
from where you laid, you could see the tall boy standing in front of you, and on top of him, as if to peek, was the huge wooden cross. the one last symbol you caught sight of as he entered you, the last view before falling into the depths of insanity.
his big hands sneaked under you, holding your body close to his as he moved in and out, the feeling of his cock rubbing against you making you crazier by the second. the feeling too good to be right, and the small voice inside your head that kept you pure, innocent, now was gone. you had no trace of light anymore, not when you were conjoined; not when your body melted into his.
his groans were prayers and you attended them with moans, the song of angels being made right in that moment, and nothing was holier than the way your heart thumped against his. keeping quiet wasn't an option anymore, and your whimpers soon became screams, the sound of his name echoing over and over between those walls.
you screamed, and drooled, and held onto dear life, his body being the last piece of salvation close to you, and the grasp so desperate you would think your soul was condemned. he kept on thrusting, his member hitting the same spot over and over, and the sound of your hips slapping grew louder.
you weren't you anymore. you never knew what came over your body when he fucked you, but it wasn't something holy. it trembled and shook and moved on its own, every trace of control abandoning your senses, the grasp of reality not being in sight.
"I'll make you mine" he repeated in your ear as a promise, singing it as his own psalm. "you'll be forever bound to me; to my body."
"I am yours" you babbled, not even sure if the words were clear, but he got the message as he kept on thrusting, fingers digging into your skin as his lips sucked on your neck.
and when his dark gaze met yours again, a groan run through his throat, the bundle of pleasure snapping inside you, just as his own did. the seed of his own filled your walls completely, and you smiled satisfied, mind far from your body as you were consumed by the primal urges.
now, with his golden cross wrapped around your neck and his claim slipping between your thighs, he marked you as his.
it was scary, how much you lost yourself when he touched you, scary how good it felt, scary how forbidden it was, scary how he made you feel like never before.
for as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him;
and you feared him the most.
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avtrbee · 2 years
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dragon blood
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✢summary: daemon doesn’t often love, and when he does he deals with it in the worse ways possible
✢tags: daemon targaryen x reader
✢tw: reader is implied to be a targaryen so typical incest
✢a/n: ik i don’t write things with reader bring preggy and kids because the very thought of it disgusts me, but seeing as the story is set in the game of thrones universe i doubt any woman can refuse to have children especially if they are highborn.
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Daemon loves many things. He loves his girls down in Flea Bottom where every whore would approach him like flies to honey at the sight of his white hair for a chance to sleep with a Valyrian prince. He loves his role as the commander of the City Watch and his gold cloaks who are loyal to his demands, he loves the violence, the blood that slicks his hand red when he slits the throat of a criminal or the painful look of a rapist’s face when he cuts his cock off. Daemon loves war, this war for the Stepstones is something he has craved for a long time. The weariness of it, the frustration, the battles and the sword fights- Daemon loves every bit of it.
Daemon loves his ancestry, his Dark Sister who fights with him in every battle, his Caraxes, his pride and joy, whom he rides on to war like a god as cold wind wooshes through his hair in the sky. Daemon also loves his brother, despite popular belief. Viserys who was there from the start, a peacemaker to his violence, someone soft to Daemon’s harsh lines. Viserys, who Daemon bends every rule and law for his attention. Viserys just makes it so…hard to love him sometimes.
Viserys has also given Daemon a wife, who he does not love.
Viserys did not realize that Daemon wanted to choose his wife, not to be given another as soon as his previous marriage was annulled. He does not love his wife, but the Lady Y/N Targaryen is far easier to look at than his old bronze bitch. They both have the blood of the dragon in their veins, strumming chaos and fire in their blood, making it enjoyable to bed her. And so Daemon did, over and over again, until her screams rang across the Red Keep, eating his lovely Targaryen wife until she fainted but even then Daemon did not stop- until her peaks were just short shivers, until she was heaving heavily with no thoughts in her head but his name.
Daemon likes the way the court averts their eyes every time he sees his wife, yanking in her hair to expose her neck to him. He likes the way her neck feels in his hands, so soft and delicate, but he likes the sultry gaze Y/N Targaryen gives him more.
There was only one moment where the thought of loving his wife came up in his mind was when he had held his son in his arms, still freshly birthed and red from blood. “Jaehaerys,” she whispered, taking his attention away from the babe to her. “A name of a great king to a great babe.
Daemon merely nodded and drunk in the sight of her. Y/N’s cheeks have sunken and eyes have darkened after long hours of labor. Her hair was tied to her back by a handmaiden in the middle of her labor but some strands had managed to escape. She was wearing nothing but loose robes with no jewelry on her neck or hair, a far cry from the the Lady Y/N Targaryen of the Viserys’ court. Daemon had never seen her so beautiful. And now, she had given him his son.
Before he could even stop himself, Daemon leaned over and pressed a kiss on her sweaty forehead. “Thank you.”
Y/N have him a surprised look.
Perhaps this was it. Perhaps he could stay here, in Dragonstone, with his wife and Jaehaerys without a thought of the world. Perhaps he could love her as he already loves his son. Kings Landing could die and he would not care, but…
Second sons must make a name for themselves, Daemon’s head echoes the words of Corlys Velaryon upon his summons at Driftmark.
Daemon gives Jaehaerys one last kiss before giving him back to his mother. He had ridden Caraxes to the Stepstones by sundown.
-
You had barely even finished your fast when you were suddenly rushed by your handmaidens to dress quickly. “The King has called for an audience, Princess,” said Mhyra, gently guiding you to your vanity as you sit down before it.
Alys, your other handmadien, scurried to you from your closet with a red and black dress in hand. Your eyes squinted on her bold dress of choice. It was one of your ‘strong’ dresses that boasts your house with two dragons on your shoulders while rubies are bejeweled to the embroidered third dragon on the back. “Audience for what?” You asked.
Behind you, more of your ladies in waiting scurry around in a flurry. “Get the Price Jaehaerys!”
You turn at the mention of the prince, watching as three of Jaehaerys’ maids walk briskly out of your chambers. “Wha- what is happening?”
“Prince Daemon has returned with victory from the Stepstones, my lady.” Mhyra answers, as you immediately tense.
You almost fail to hide your displeased grimace.
Within minutes you are dressed in your best dress directly below the Iron Throne as is your right. You watch as the Kings Guard fill Viserys’s court first, then sworn shields, then the lords and ladies of Kings Landing flock to the hall until it was full. Chatter and whispers fill up the hall of the Iron Throne with rumors of Daemon’s victory, Daemon’s defeat, or god forbid- Daemon’s rebellion from the Iron Throne.
From the corner of your eye, you spot Rhaenyra’s platinum head among the chatty crowds. You give her a questioning raise of your eyebrow as she should have been in Dragonstone while she sheepishly smiles in response.
Silence holds the room immediately as Daemon finally walks through the halls. He walks slowly, taking his time like he was strolling through a garden. He is still arogant, it seems. Though the crowd wa already split into two, you think that Daemon was like a shark swimming through schools of fish as the crowds take a step back when he passes by as he walks towards the throne.
The first thing you notice him was he was wearing a crown of white bark held together by a dark strings. You raise your head up to the Iron Throne and almost immediately, Viserys’s purple eyes return your worried gaze.
You turn your head back to the exiled prince. The second thing you notice- his hair. Gone was his flowing white locks of hair that passed by his shoulders. His hair was now sheared short that ends before his nape. He looks as handsome as ever.
Before he can take another step towards the Iron Throne, Daemon is stopped by a sword. The crowd hold their breath as Daemon raises his own sword to the King before dropping it to the ground. “Add it to the chair.”
The sword echoes as it falls to the ground.
“You wear a crown,” starts Viserys, looking down at Daemon with the legendary sword of Aegon the Conquerer rests sheathed on his hands. “You also call yourself king.”
“Once we smashed the triarchy, they named me King of the Narrow Sea,” Daemon shrugs in explanation. A wave of tense anticipation rolls to the shores of Viserys’s court. You do not fail to see the Kingsguard slowly grasp their sheathed swords. Beside you, your own sword shield has moved from your side to your front, ready to defend you if chaos arrives.
You do not blame them, as you yourself had already calculated an escape plan. You would hand Prince Jaehaerys to your shield, and run towards fastest way to the dragonpit to mount your dragon. Lords and ladies flicker their gazes back and forth to the King and his brother, waiting in anticipation of his next words. Would this be a surrender or Daemon’s rebellion?
“But I know that there is only one true King, your Grace,” Daemon’s words were sweet as honey as he kneels in genuflect infront of his brother. Viserys turns to his Otto Hightower in silent contemplation, then he turns his gaze to you.
Viserys cranes his neck to the crowd as he searches for his former Master of Ships. “Where is Lord Corlys?”
“He sailed home to Driftmark.” Answers Daemon, still on his knees.
“Who holds the Stepstones?”
“The tides, the crabs, and 2000 triarchy corpses stakes to the sand to warn those who might follow.”
Viserys descends down the steps of the Iron Throne and takes Daemon’s wooden crown. He looks at it in discontent before passing it to one of his Kingsguard, as it pales in comparison to his own crown and all the riches House Targaryen has to offer. “Rise.”
Viserys holds a hand to Daemon’s shoulder as a fond look appears on his face. As if he was weak to his brother’s touch, Daemon’s head immediately falls to Viserys’s shoulders.
The court finally breathes free as a thundering applause echoes across the hall. Any rumors of Daemon’s rebellion has now faded away to praises of ‘King Viserys’s mercy’ and the brothers’ love for one another.
But the clapping soon faded as soon as Daemon soon removed himself from Viserys’ loving embrace to face you.
“My lady,” he starts, and the crowd goes silent again. “I have won the war at the Stepstones for you and out King.” Daemon walks to with a smile that you can’t decide is charming or apologetic. Your face is stone as you remember how Daemon left so abruptly, the ladies that whisper at your back in court, the pitying stares Jaehaerys gets when he walks down the halls of the Red Keep.
You see Daemon’s eyes pan to you, then down to your dress to look at the boy who looks so much like his father, who has been clutching your skirts like it was a shield. For a moment, you see Daemon soften infront of his son like he did three years ago when he held him first.
“And who might this little prince be?” He breathes so reverently that you have never heard Daemon sound so gentle before. There was no question as to who the father was. Jaehaerys’s Valyrian looks hav attested to that. Jae’s tiny fists curl tighter around your dress as Daemon kneels infront of him.
“I’m Jaehaerys,” came the little voice from behind your skirts. Normally, Jae would be a cheerful child, a far cry from the shy on that Daemon sees now. Jae is a ball of restless energy, eager to please and talk. But this stranger is someone else.
“And do you know who I am, little Jaehaerys?” Daemon’s head tilt at the child.
Immediately, you regret telling your decision to tell Jaehaerys’ stories of Daemon- of his brave acts in battle, and how he is strong as he is brave. You remember his sad words as Jae asks why Daemon isn’t here when his Aunt Rhaenyra’s father is with her like how his cousins Laena and Laenor has Lord Corlys by their side. You regret telling him that he has sadly left to defend the realm when in reality he had left Jaehaerys as soon as he was born at the first mention of a war.
“You’re my father.” Jae answers bravely. “Isn’t that right, mother?” Your hand instinctively moves to rest on Jae’s head as he looks up to you in confirmation. You look down at Jaehaerys’s purple eyes that looks at you to innocently, but you also feel the gaze of hundreds of people at court.
A nod from you was all it took before a wide smile appeared on his face. His shyness was tripped away as he let go of your skirts and jumped to Daemon’s arms with no fear. Applause filled the room again as the court adored the sight of a loving father-son reunion, paying the scorned wife no mind.
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