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endlessthxxghts · 2 months

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Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form.

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes.

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it.

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand.

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it.

“Din?” you called out softly.

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down.

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you.

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully.

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth.

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat.

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine.

Oh, he’s starting to break, already?

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily.

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull.

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face.

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment.

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper.

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you.

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt.

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless.

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop.

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in.

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him.

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly.

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive.

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch.

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it.

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs.

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants.

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots.

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway.

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice.

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp.

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing.

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations.

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly.

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.”

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight.

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more.

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter.

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose.

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay.

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now.

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine.

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.”

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move.

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.”

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?”

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter.

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you.

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish.

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you.

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer.

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers.

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him.

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far.

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all.

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way.

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces.

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other.

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space.

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh.

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself.

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax.

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves.

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess.

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck.

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down.

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt.

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher.

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself.

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed.

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh.

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

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romeavebrainrot · 3 months

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FIRST POST FOR APHBLR !!

hiii here are some of my redesigns for my MCD rewrite!!! The designs are very rough and are NOT final btw i just felt like posting these sketches

+ one fun fact abt each design :

▪︎ Aph's markings can damage any cloth it touches; the only exception is her cloak. Materials such as leather and metal gain less damage, however she prefers to wear clothes that are lightweight as they complement her style of combat (lots of running, surprise attacks)

▪︎ Garroth's cape was a gift from Dale when he first became a guard of Phoenix Drop. That's why its a lot newer than the rest of his armor

▪︎ Laurance's home, Meteli, trades a lot with pirates, so their clothing and jewelry also follow a similar style. He also wears a lot of accessories such as beads and earrings but i forgot to draw them lmao

▪︎ Nana, like all other meif'wa, has eyes with cat-like properties; yellow sclera, clear night vision, colorblindness, the like

▪︎ Dante used to live in the Eastern Wolf Tribe before meeting Aph, so he wears white padded clothing for camouflage + warmth. Although i might change the design cuz i dont rlly like it

▪︎ Katelyn keeps her hair long despite it being a nuisance in battle because her siblings love to braid them when she's off-duty (also i forgot to draw her scars dammit)

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nothingbutsweetwords · 6 days

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ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."

Word count: 3,800.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

MEETING - 1. Her.

Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable perseverance, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."

Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.

Every night, in silent supplications, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."

Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.

She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.

Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.

Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.

"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.

"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.

"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg.

"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.

"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.

"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.

"Thank you, Jace."

"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.

He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.

"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.

"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"

"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.

"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.

"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.

"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.

"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.

"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.

Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.

"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.

"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.

Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.

"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."

She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.

Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.

"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.

"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."

"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."

She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"

"It's beyond our understanding."

She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.

Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.

"Your grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.

"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"

"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.

"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.

Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?

"They gave me a pig!"

"A what?" the queen asked.

"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.

She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.

"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.

Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.

"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.

The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.

She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.

It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.

She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.

"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."

"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.

"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.

"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.

"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.

"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.

"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"

"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.

"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.

"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.

"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.

"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."

She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.

There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.

She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.

They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.

Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.

She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.

"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.

"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.

She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.

She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.

Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.

Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.

Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.

She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.

It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.

The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.

She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so, with her book in hand, marched towards him.

Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.

She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.

She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.

He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.

How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.

Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.

"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom."

She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."

Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"

"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.

"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.

"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.

"Yes, of course."

"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.

"Yes, I did."

"Did you see any?"

"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.

"Gods! You must have been so terrified."

"Not really" he simply responded.

"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.

She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.

Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.

It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.

"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.

"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.

Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.

"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.

"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.

"Goodnight, my prince."

"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.

"Nothing would make me happier."

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #house targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fluff

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cowyolks · 6 months

Note

I would like to make a request

Knight Soap X Princess Reader. I've been dying for it. The King König is amazing!

AN OATH OF ROSE BRIAR

Pairing: Knight! John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Female!Princess! Reader

Prompt: It was always nightfall when he’d sneak into your chambers, yearning for love that tears apart at the seams. You didn’t know forbidden love could taste so divinely sweet.

Words: 6.8 K

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Graves is a creep, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (receiving), fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, hint of voyeurism.

A/n: don’t come at me for the action scenes, I know they’re bad lmao. Otherwise I’m proud of this, even though it took me years.

“Hold your breathe, My Lady.” A sharp tug pulled against your waist, securing your corset even tighter to your body, almost like a second skin. You’d been exclusively told you had to look perfect this week, as your father, the King, was inviting possible suitors for you.

It left an irony and rotten taste in your mouth.

You’d lifted your arms, feeling the soft and thick fabric of your crimson dress fall over the enlarged swells of your breasts and hips. It was gorgeous, laced and embroidered with golden roses. Gold jewelry proudly sat at the hollow of your throat and smooth skin of your wrists.

The maids had done well making you look the part. It was just a shame all of this was in vain. You’d never love any of your potential suitors, for there was already a man that had thieved your affections and ran with it like a sly fox.

And it just so happened he was someone you could never have. Ah, forbidden love.

A sharp tug on your scalp alerted you of the busy hands weaving your ruby crusted diadem over your temples. They’d spritzed your body in perfume and oils, using berries to bring out the plumpness of your lips. You felt beautiful, but a type of beautiful that would burn if you stood too close.

A knock on your chamber door startled you from your daydream.

“The King has requested your presence at the harbor docks, Princess.” His voice warmed your very soul and burned your beating organ. There was no possible way he didn’t know the true affect of his voice, his body, his affection. It was killing you from the inside out.

He was a spectacle.

In the eyes of the public he was Ser MacTavish, first of his name, and knight of the Royal Guard. To you, under the cloak of darkness and seclusion, you referred to him as John, chanting his name as you panted against his lips. He made you feel good, a rush of freedom and adoration that pooled in your gut like rolling waves.

Your maids stepped away, offering you tight and practiced curtesies as you thanked them with a smile. You shifted closer to the heavy door, one of your ladies in waiting pushing the door open.

You adjusted to the gentle summer sun, squinting in the rays and enjoying the balmy warmth of the air. Breeze blew from the Sea, fluttering your hair laced with pearls and beads.

A shift of metal drew your attention to your knight, someone who swore an oath to your father to protect him. Instead, he settled on protecting you, being your main guard and secretive lover. John stood tall and proud in his chainmail, your house crest displayed across his chest.

He had his helmet off, the piece of armor hanging loosely in the crook of his arm. He had a passive expression on his features, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was dreading this day as much as you.

You would be married off in less than a week, still you couldn’t help but look at him with greedy infatuation. He’d shaved for the occasion, jaw sharp and shining. His rosy lips contrasted the tanned richness of his skin. Even his eyes, the color of the restless sky, shone in sheer strength and power. His high rank was exposed through the gold beads and occasional shells that were braided through his ebony hair. The middle part was much longer than the sides. He always clipped it after a victory, and you’d never known him to have grown it out.

“Good Morn, Princess.” His deep voice twanged with the lit of his accent, making slight goosebumps ripple through your skin.

“How do you do, Ser?” You stepped forward, falling into step beside him as the two of you climbed down the steps to the bay. Gulls called out from above for their partners, stooping downwards to feed their young.

“Been better, I have. The lady I love will soon love another.” He muttered, hands clenching at his side with what you could detect as wretched jealousy. You noted he was just as miserable about your arrangement as you were. At least he still had his oath—nothing would change there. But you, you would bear a blood bond to your potential suitor. To obey him and provide him with heirs.

You felt bile rise up your throat just thinking about it.

“I doubt she will ever love anyone more than you.” You admitted, knowing then by the twinkle in his eyes it satisfied and gutted him at the same time. The scent of saltwater and seaside jasmine flooded your nostrils as John led you to your father, who was patiently awaiting for the approaching ships.

Ships of different houses, all set upon winning your hand. There would be a festival held all week, the kingdom was already decorated in crimson silks and glowing lanterns for the occasion. It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t for such horrible terms. With the festivals came the games. It was always fun to see the men compete in such activities despite the reason.

You distinctly remember watching the flex of your knight’s biceps and thighs as he tossed a caber the farthest and had won. Pride surged through your veins that day, and you made sure to reward him in the dim glowing light of your chambers.

Now, your suitors would compete for your hand. While it wasn’t necessarily determined that the winner of said games would earn your hand, it was more so a tool to help decide. The Royal Court and your father would pick the best with the most assets.

The only saving grace of this tournament was the fact that several knights under your Father’s command could compete as well. Not for your hand, but just to show the strength of your kingdom. Your eyes would be on your John, as they always would be.

Your knight stopped in front of your father, bowing his head low with one hand clutching the iron hilt of his impressive sword. You performed your own curtesy, gold jewelry clashing together as you moved.

“Daughter…aren’t you the prettiest gem in the Kingdom.” And isn’t that just what you are? A shiny object meant to barter away.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You spoke clearly, something you were taught at a young age.

“Come here,” Your father gestured to the docking ships. You stepped forward, just as John stepped backwards, always one to watch your back. You could feel his fiery stare bouncing on the bare skin of your spine. Attempting to hide the rush of blood flowing to your cheeks, your eyes pinpointed the rush of banners heading down the enormous dock.

All your potential suitors came from the East, a district called Kortac. The land was split into three countries, all ruled by different Kings.

First, there was King Kim, dubbed Horangi. Most referred to him as the Tiger King, for his ruthlessness in battle that was reminded of a big cat. You’d met him before, he was respectable and kind despite those rumors, but he certainly wasn’t your John.

Then there was King Philip, while he was definitely pretty, you’d only heard bad about the wealthy King. He was the richest of all, as he had his own battalion deemed his shadows. You met his eyes slowly, almost immediately picking up on the greedy gleam of it. It made you shiver thinking of marrying him.

Lastly, was the most mysterious of the three. You didn’t even know his full name, just that everyone referred to him as König. He covered his face, although it didn’t stop the stares. Anyone would be drawn to a man of his massive structure. You’d never met him, but you’d heard how he fought alongside his soldiers, as if he didn’t give a damn about his Royal status.

Your father held his arms out wide, almost as if he was hugging his whole kingdom. “Welcome! It’s an honor to host your districts in hopes of winning my lovely daughter’s hand. You all must be tired from your journey, my guards will show you to your chambers. Rest up, because tonight will be our first game that the princess has the honor of choosing!”

All eyes settled upon your pampered form, making you shift slightly from all the attention. Subtly your eyes met John’s— what was he the best at? You wracked your mind quickly. He was a simple stable boy once upon a time, someone who loved horses and worked hard for the hope of something better. He was tall and strong, quick and witty. You thought of the callous on his hands, from hours of wielding metal and clutching reins. Yes, you had it.

“I chose jousting.” You exclaimed, not noticing the wicked smirk that wound its way across John’s lips. Cheers and war cries broke out amongst the men and common folk, all of them excited to watch the entertainment.

“Excellent! The games begin tonight before the feast to honor the princess.” Your father informed before clapping once as his guards escorted him to his chambers. John approached you again, bowing politely in show of all the new eyes.

“Back to your chambers, princess?” He asked, eyes flickering every once and a while. He looked stiffer than normal, ever the vigilant force at your side. You could tell he didn’t like all these outsiders, specifically around you.

“No, not yet. I feel like going on a walk through the gardens.” You’d always found solstice around the sweet smelling rows of briar and petal.

Afternoon bled into evening. And with the evening time came the air of excitement. You’d been fiddling with a strand of crimson fabric, the ribbon twisting between your digits absentmindedly.

You tilted your head behind you, wishful stare settling upon your guard, who walked several paces behind. He was dressed in full armor now, the helmet covering the soft flesh of his neck and head. Dark hair still curled out the bottom, whipping around against his tanned neck.

Your eyes flickered around, spotting no one in the private gardens. Still, you cautiously shuffled into the shade and privacy of the marble pavilion, a place where you and your knight’s lips locked and fiery touches met before. John knew to follow you, his form barely making a sound despite the heavy armor.

“Princess?” He uttered, eyes full of what only could be described as pure want and adoration.

You surged forward, lips immediately settling upon his own. A large arm wrapped upon your waist, pulling you off your feet and into his scent and warmth. His bottom lip parted, allowing his tongue to swelteringly lick across your own. You parted for air, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before it broke away.

“Please win tonight.” You begged, knowing that it would mean nothing despite the victory. John had sworn an oath— an oath that sealed his fate. No children, no wife, no lands. He’d have his head on a chopping block if anyone caught him.

“Aye, I’ll do just that, flower.” He swore, smothering eyes falling downwards to your moving hands at his chest. The scarlet ribbon you fiddled with snaked it’s way under armor. You’d tied the knot against the loose end of his tunic, your personal favor. The pads of your fingers brushed his chest, feeling the strong thudding of his heart.

He had your favor, your love, your time all symbolized in that red piece of fabric.

“Go,” you whispered, nodding towards the south, where the growing arena was likely filling up with spectators. He nodded his head once, grasping onto your hand that still stubbornly clung to his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss upon your knuckles.

“Goodbye for now.”

You watched him leave, following the horizon to the stables, where his mare awaited. You’d rushed down to the stands, keeping your head covered and away from prying eyes. After shifting pass several soldiers you collapsed down into the forged steel of your throne, similar to your father’s.

He’d been waiting for you, a disappointing look crossing his features.

“Why were you late?”

“I lost track of time in the gardens. You know how much I love the roses.” You excused, hoping it was enough for your father to put on his act of King and host again. He hummed, before standing. The audience immediately dropped volume upon the gesture of the King.

“Let the games begin!”

Loud uproars broke out though the area, cheers and shouts for their own kings escaping the many districts. You stayed seated, straightening out the sheer fabric of your gown.

A large black Stallion trotted proudly into the area, a knight with gleaming armor the color of obsidian upon the saddle. John’s second in command, Ser Simon. Some called him the Ghost, for his shifty speed and impressive strength in battle. He nodded to your father beyond his visor, shouldering the large lance he held.

His opponent’s horse moved forward as well, a buckskin shire so large you could almost hear it’s thundering steps. Large horse for a large man—König shouldered his lance with precision. You had no doubts he could out muscle Simon, but the Ghost certainly held fast in his speed and intelligence. König’s armor was coppery in color, long since used and well worn in his victories. It was admirable in a queasy kind of way.

A bugle sounded to your left, kick starting the joust with a burst of added cheers.

You watched as Simon’s horse reared excitedly, happy to speed towards the oncoming opponent in long strides. You watched as the Ghost twisted his shield, jamming König’s lance narrowly, avoiding splinters to his chest. You let out a breath as the two made it to the opposite ends unscathed.

The two approached again, this time Ghost was on the offense, shifting his shield before jabbing his lance in the opposite direction that caught König on his arm between the subtle crease of his armor.

Cheers erupted from your own subjects, chanting out the name “Ghost” over and over, with a thumb up, your father declared Ghost the winner.

Next was King Graves and Horangi. A match you were looking forward to as much as watching paintings dry. But alas, you had to look interested for they were your suitors.

Horangi looked on with flashing intelligence, something you admired greatly. If he could think quickly, he’d know that Graves’ left side was always weakly guarded and possibly strike there.

The first bugle sounded, allowing Graves to lead off first with his expensive looking mare. Horangi took off a second later, visor dark and covering the movement of his eyes. The two flew forward, speeding pass with no damage done.

The crowd cheered as Graves boasted from the opposite side, his raised arms making your nose wrinkle in disgust.

The second bugle sounded, this time Horangi was faster, shouldering his shield in determined might. His lance favored and aimed to Graves side, which he narrowly missed after the wealthy king twisted away. The crowd bursted into relieving calls, while the other half sighed in disappointment.

Finally, the last horn blew, and with gaining speed, Horangi aimed to Graves’ unprotected side again, but with a dirty trick, Graves juked his lance to the side, then with a vicious twist brought his shield straight onto the nose of Horangi, essentially flattening him and having the Tiger King fold to the ground with a wounded puff.

It was dirty, but essentially fair. It made unease reside in your gut as your father held up a thumb for King Graves’ victory. Cheers and boos broke out, making you shrink back in your seat with a huff. But then, your eyes caught on the sapphire blues of your knight. He rode on his fiery mare dubbed Themis, tribute to Justice. She was a handsome bay that loved when you gave her sugar cubes in the seclusion of the stables.

John would take on the Ghost. A battle that you knew would be entertaining and competitive, yet harmless. No ill intention would breakout among the knights, that you were sure of.

John rode to his side with a determined exhale, gripping his lance tightly as Themis pawed the dirt in anticipation. The bugle sounded as you shuffled to the edge of your seat, resisting the urge to worriedly bite your lip. He clicked his tongue, urging Themis into a speedy canter as he maneuvered his body in the right position.

Simon, who definitely owned the strength, brought himself tightly together, using his blunt force to push John’s lance away with his shield. The audience sighed in anticipation as the two knights rode to the opposite side unscathed. Under their visors, you could see the hints of amused smiles. At least they were having some competing fun.

The next round started, this time with John taking up a defensive position instead of offensive. Simon aimed his lance at John’s armored chest, anticipating that he’d block with his shield. Themis galloped onwards, huffing steaming smoke like a fiery dragon.

With a heave, Simon thrusted the lance inwards just as John brought his shield up a few inches. Then, with a lightening quick speed, he lowered it again, shoving his lance instead into Simon’s side, effectively teetering his balance. The Ghost fell with grace, landing on his feet in a disappointed dull thud. You resisted the urge to cheer too loudly as your John circled, a fist pumped in honorable victory.

Your father held his thumb up to John, likely the only approval he’d ever receive from the King. You only wish he’d approve of you wanting John’s hand. But Princesses weren’t people, they were tools of power. A simple pawn in the decade game of chess.

The tourney was drawing to an end— just John and Graves left in the competition. You’d completely dropped your resolve, chewing upon your lip as King Graves pranced out on his horse again.

There was a dangerous look in his eye, something that made your stomach spin in knots for your John. Regardless, your own knight held a hard and determined scowl, his chest likely breathing in pure desperation for a victory.

The deafening horn blew again, and John took off in a thunderous offense. He looked calm and collected, ever the cool demeanor when it came to a fight. Themis whinnied in disappointment as both lances missed their marks respectfully, making you let out an exhale you didn’t know you were holding.

Time sped up, your own surroundings moving much faster than your panicked thoughts. The next thing you knew, Themis was squealing, rearing up on her hind legs as John scrambled for a tighter hold on her reins. But you knew your John, your sweet, selfless, passionate John— it didn’t surprise you in the slightest that he dismounted in a cloud of dust. He was always selfless like that, disqualifying himself to check upon his panicked mare.

Themis seized her bucking as John cooed at her in reassuring words, a quick pat pressed into her withers.

Then you noticed the searing red of a laceration. The bleeding wound leaked crimson, but it wasn’t the blood that made your nostrils flare in anger. No, it was thin stripe of such a cut. A cut only made by a stealthy swing of a short sword.

The bastard king had cheated.

Roaring applause and boos echoed across the arena. You had to bite your tongue to resist a uproar of your own, so much so that you tasted warm blood upon your tongue.

You met John’s eyes, his filled with so much apologetic sorrow you had to blink to stop your own from watering too much. It wasn’t that you were upset that he lost, more so that it wouldn’t matter regardless. He was sweetness you could never taste, love that would only burn you.

You’d realized this now. Now so more than ever, when the sight of your own summer roses extended in front of your line of sight.

A crown of beauty and fertility. You couldn’t help but focus on the wicked thorns that pierced your temples as King Graves, the victor, declared you the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. It made you sick that he was the most favorable of the Kings. You’d never wanted to run away more, to spend your days on the highland coasts in a homey cottage your knight had built by hand. Saltwater between your toes and John’s body to keep you warm on the stormy days.

Perhaps, now would be the time to throw away your titles and fortune and replace it with freedom, love, and yearning.

The evening blurred into darkness illuminated by glowing starlight. A time you relished and anticipated when your knight would slip into your chambers and kiss away the stress and pain of expectations, orders, and rules.

Now, you wanted nothing more than to be excused from this wretched dinner and to sleep until dawn.

The crown of roses sat uncomfortably upon your head, despite all the compliments you had received from the nobles. You’d see it more fair to chuck the bloody thing in the roaring fires bordering the stony hall. Sorrow crept into your soul when you couldn’t find your knight in the sea of feasting people.

Your own roast chicken and vegetables lay untouched. It was hard to even think of eating when King Phillip sat next to you, boasting and smiling with his too white teeth. You wanted to get sick when his hand subtly touched your lower back.

“Father.” You blurted, drawing attention upon yourself. Graves’ retracted his jeweled hand begrudgingly upon the careful look he received from your king. Visibly you gulped, now having the divided attention of not just your father but the three other Kings as well.

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to return to my chambers if it is quite alright with you.” You asked, nearly squirming at the sharp look he sent you. He didn’t appreciate your resistance to being wed, but you did happen to look a tad lighter than your typical shade. He sighed heavily, but nodded anyways.

“Go get some rest. I’ll have Ser Riley escort you since your own knight is still tending to his mare.” Your heart jumped as your father confirmed where John was. But you knew, in your heart, he wasn’t just taking care of Themis— he was shouldering his defeat badly.

Despite this, you stood, making careful eye contact with Ser Simon. You’d always observed him from afar, growing unnecessarily nervous with the helmeted knight. He was strong and mysterious, not belonging to a house or clan but was simply a nomad that sworn oath. Your John liked him, that was enough for you. After all, He wasn’t so bad when he cracked morbid jokes you likely should never hear as a Princess.

The Ghost held out the crook of his arm, signaling for you to take the cold metal of his armored forearm. You did so quietly, holding the stiffness of your posture until you were through the large doors of the hall.

Simon was always quiet, really only speaking when he needed to. John told you one time, when the two fought under the same battalion that Simon wouldn’t shut up or stop cracking jokes as he dragged a wounded John through the battlefield. Your knight realized then that Simon only spoke to keep him conscious and laughing. Respect and gratitude bloomed in your heart for the Ghost.

“I assume your sickness has left?” The Ghost spoke in his rough voice that reminded you of scratchy bark on Oak trees. Your heart jumped at such an accusing question.

“Pardon?”

“The damn parasite king? Leaching onto our Princess like he’s some Messiah.” He growled.

“Shhh! What if someone hears you speak that way, Ser?” You panicked for his safety, eyes flickering around in a familiar practice of looking for wondering eyes or ears. Simon, didn’t seem bothered, only shrugging in nonchalance.

He steered you down the hall, bicep gently flexing under your palm. It was then when you noticed he took a wrong turn, instead following the lantern light to the stables.

“You turned the wrong hall, my chambers are this way.” You insisted. Simon shook his head, continuing to usher you gently down the cobble path to the growing sound of whickering horses.

“Ser?”

“You speak too much.” Simon imputed, leading you into the old wooden building that housed all the guard’s prized mares and stallions. It was dark inside, the area barely lit with gentle candlelight. Still, you made out the shuffling outline of a familiar body.

John.

It took everything in you not to sprint in his direction. To pull him into an embrace and kiss the worry lines of his face. Instead you stayed planted next to Simon, who gingerly dropped your arm with a knowing look in his eyes. You should have been worried that he knew, but you could care less at the current moment. He was friend, not foe.

“I think I hear the sound of impending doom. I must go before it’s too late.” Simon monotonously quipped in a low voice, tilting his masked face just enough for you to see his wink before he turned on his heel and left you alone.

Your eyes swiveled around, only catching on the taut muscles of John’s back, who didn’t seem to notice you over the sound of Themis’ affectionate whinnies.

You took careful steps forward, not caring that the bottom of your expensive crimson gown was being caked in dust and straw. Instead you couldn’t help but admire your knight. He was shoveling loose hay into Themis’ trough, back muscles rippling in strain. You caught the white material of bandage wrapped tightly and professionally around his horse, obviously the work of his experienced hands.

“John?” You spoke softly, as not to startle his usually alert self. It appeared he only cared about his surroundings when you were his to guard and protect.

Immediately he dropped the pitchfork, the sound muffled by the hay below his feet. Then he turned, so fast that you missed the pure looks of sorrow, surprise and adoration cross his features.

“Princess! I- you shouldn’t be here.”

Your heart strained at the rejection, nevertheless you knew he was frustrated and self loathing. You couldn’t help but approach him, just as he took a leaping bound forward, pushing pass the gate to follow you like a loyal hound.

It was common practice for the two of you to find the dim part of a room. A place where no eyes or ears could possibly look.

Here, his stiffness fled, eyes nearly glowing against the flickering flames.

“I failed you.” His head hung low, knees almost buckling from the sheer disappointment that pushed heavy on his heart. He avoided your approaching form, not taking the time to meet your gaze or see the shaking of your head.

“You could never fail me, John. Not now, nor ever.” Your palm settled upon his stubbled cheek, his body instantly reacting to the touch by pushing further against you.

“But I-”

You cut him off, placing your thumb upon the chapped line of his lip. He’d immediately stopped speaking, his hand going upwards to delicately take a hold of your own. His palm nearly swallowed your entire hand, his calloused fingertips stopping just above your wrists.

“I don’t deserve you, Princess.” He’d absentmindedly brought his thumb across your knuckles, comforting and true that made your body buzz in love and adoration.

You reached upwards, tilting your head just enough to ghost your lips over his own. You’d let him chose if he’d like to take comfort in your warmth. A small grunt of frustration fluttered down his throat, but he took you anyways.

Arm wrapping tightly upon your waist to hold you to his warm body, firm with countless hours of training and bloodshed. His other hand settled upon the back of your neck, fingers sprawling with the purpose to expand you towards his awaiting mouth. A sharp gasp of surprise exited you as he kissed you. It wasn’t his typical sensation of passion and sweetness.

John kissed you hard. His teeth clattering against your own, with his tongue pushing down your throat in a one-sided battle of dominance. He was chasing his frustration through your very body, and you certainly liked it.

“Don’t know what you do to me…” he breathed out as he broke away, only to steer you against the far wooden wall, protecting the back of your head with the back of his hand.

“I think I know.” You quipped back, the heat coiling in your stomach roaring at the sharp look you received.

“Cheeky little thing…” he hissed, one of his hands holding you steady while the other trailed down your collar bone to the top curvature of your breasts. His mouth followed after. Lips pressing searing kisses against your exposed neck, down to the hollow of your throat.

“John.” You sweetly aired, exposing your throat even more to his awaiting mouth.

“I know, flower, I know.” His voice growing even deeper with the lust that coated his tongue like sweet honey. “Turn around.” He muttered, maneuvering your hips so that you could rotate with your back to him.

His fingers quickly found your corset in a familiar action, loosing it enough to help pull down your undergarments. His mouth pressed open kisses down the curve of your spine, making you gasp breathlessly and arch further against him. You felt the hardness of his cock press against your lower back, just as he hissed at the stimulation.

“Fuck…Need to taste ya’.” He growled in a command, typically the only time he did order around his superior. You had no problem following his experienced lead.

You heard the gentle thud of his knees hitting the straw bedding, just as his hand pushed on your hip to pivot to face him. Eyes once the color of the sky now raged like a stormy hurricane, dark and ravenous. It was enough for you to widen your legs more in an invitation.

The tips of his fingers traced the warm skin of your thighs, just as his head disappeared from under the soft silk of your dress. Hot air escaped onto your uncovered heat, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss.

“John,” you whined, oblivious to what he was planning beneath the drape. A growly chuckle sounded, until his lips made direct contact to your throbbing clit, his warm tongue flicking upon the bead in a teasing stroke that had your legs locking as they became pliable at his touch.

“Easy….” His palm made contact with the soft swell of your backside, molding his fingers into the skin that ached and buzzed for just him.

A soft sigh left your lips as he petted you, fingertips touching and caresssing with such accuracy despite the darkness under your dress. You mewled when a thick finger prodded your entrance, sliding nearly effortlessly into your wet heat.

“Fuckin’ hell, Bonnie, always so tight for me.” He growled, voice so heavenly you couldn’t stop your muscles from clenching yearningly against him. You cooed in response as he curled the digit, your own palms finding his shoulders to steady yourself from his burning touch.

“Just for you.” You pleaded, neck pushing back against the wood of the stable wall. Your throat bobbed when his tongue licked a hot stripe, body shuddering in ecstasy. John chuckled at your words, the vibration sending jolts across your core.

“That’s right, Flower. All mine, no sod of a King can have you. Just me, right?” He added another finger, relishing in your loss of control at his confident touch.

“Right, yes.” You gulped, losing yourself embarrassingly quick under his skilled tongue and fingers dipping into you. He picked up speed, noticing the tell tale signs of your body responding to his.

“Oh, John,” you stuttered, eyes fluttering shut as he curled his fingers skillfully, the movement being enough to allow the coil in your abdomen to finally snap.

You gushed around him with a carnal moan, his tongue hurriedly lapping it all up greedily, just as he hummed at the taste. You barely had time to heave out an exhale before his hands found the flesh of your hips, taking hold of you in a lovestruck desire. He placed a sweltering hot kiss upon the inside of your thigh. His massive hands pushed you upwards, allowing himself time to escape from under your crimson gown.

He looked like Eros reincarnated.

Crysaline eyes the color of deep-rooted glaciers bore into your very soul. He had a look to his face, such as a painting crafted of faithful devotion, as if he was staring at something so enchanting everything else dulled in comparison. Your own slick coated his stubble and lips, allowing the light to catch as he licked the nectar off with a satisfied hum.

He squeezed once, twice, upon your hips, signaling that he was to move backwards, his broad shoulders falling backwards upon the straw with a huff. He settled you down upon him, your thighs slotting between his hips as your dress spilled over the both of you.

“Yer’ so beautiful, flower.” He praised, candlelight catching in his blown out pupils. Your heart fluttered at the compliment, as did your weeping entrance.

“Mhm,” You preened, a soft smirk spreading over your lips as you leant to kiss him. With confident fingers, you reached under your dress, making contact with his waistband, sliding the material downwards before reaching his cock. He was scorching at your touch, already throbbing and prepared.

John let out a hiss muffled by your mouth, as your fingertip slid over his tip, smoothing the large bead of pre-cum that had gathered.

A delighted chuckle left your lips as he twitched, you pumped his length slowly, curving your wrist just how he liked it. He pulled away from your kiss with a heave, a growl leaving his throat as he saw the teasing look in your eyes.

“Think you can play with me after all that’s happened today? Watching all those men stare like you’re a piece of meat? You do this after I licked your pretty cunt? No, Bonnie, your going to take my cock like a good obedient princess.”

You didn’t have time to teasingly retaliate, instead you could only gasp as his head slid unforgivably into your heat, a low moan leaving the both of you at the joining. His hands guided your hips, until all of him was sunk around your fluttering walls. He paused, glancing up to see if you were alright.

“I can’t help their stares, I did-” his finger found your lips, pausing your words.

“Don’t speak of them when your full of my cock, eh?”

You couldn’t help but nod, rolling your hips against him in a slow way that mimicked the words “yes I understand. Only you can see me like this.”

“Good.” He aired, his hands once again finding your hips as he roughly guided you against his own bucking hips, starting a fast pace that had your eyes fluttering shut and soft coos leaving your mouth involuntarily.

“That’s it, princess.” He praised, a hand leaving your hip to play with your breasts that threatened to spill out from your undone corset. His palm squeezed the sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves down your skin and goosebumps to rise in ecstasy.

You picked up speed, now rising inches off the straw covered ground before slamming back down upon his length. He cursed, adam’s apple bobbing as his tip met the start of your womb. A ravishing hunger filled your very souls, only satisfied by your intertwined touch and the sound of squelching skin.

He gripped you harder, his climax drawling to a burning close. You felt the all familiar tightening again, knowing that John would only stop fucking you until you finished around his swollen cock.

“You going to cum for me, princess?” He growled, hand falling under your skirts to draw slow circles upon your puffy clit with his calloused thumb.

“Yes!” His circling thumb pushed you over the edge, along with the deep and ruthless plunges of his cock, your eyes fluttered shut, just as your vision blurred from pure ecstasy. Your knight clenched his teeth, but could hardly contain his whine as he plowed deeply, spilling into you warmly.

Together the two of you heaved, lost in each other and not wanting to break your intertwined hold quite yet. You settled, bringing a palm to John’s sweaty cheek as his eyes fluttered shut.

“I love you.” You whispered, stroking the skin in all the passion you could muster.

“Well…. Isn’t this sweet?” A shadow hissed into the night, startling the two of you as you struggled to get up off of your knight in horrified shock.

Before you could separate your hold, your hair was tugged from behind, forcing you to stand and whimper at the fiery hold. Your knight struggled to stand, hastily making himself decent before scanning for a weapon. Except it was too late.

A dagger pressed coldly to your flaming jugular, halting John in place as he glared holes into your captor. You glanced downward, noticing the hand had familiar jeweled rings upon his digits.

Graves.

Bile threatened to expel as John attempted to step forward, until the dagger drew blood and the sharp sting made a lone tear fall down your cheek.

“Ah, ah. Stay where you are, or I kill the whore.” Graves threatened, holding his ground and forcing John to stay planted where he was.

King Graves tutted, a disappointed clicking noise that traveled from his chest to your back in vibrations.

“I always figured you were a whore, had the looks of one. But with your knight…” he laughed, no humor behind his tone as John switched between glaring and panic between the two of you. “You’ve just handed me another kingdom on a golden platter. Once the King knows of this scandal your knight will be hung, and you will be cast out as a whore, unfit for any royalty. That will leave the Kingdom to me, after I kill your worthless father.” Graves growled, a playful lit to his voice as you silently cried.

“Don’t cry….” Graves cooed heartlessly, pressing himself into you with a dull hunger. Your knight growled, eyes darkening as he could only helplessly watch.

All at once, you felt the shallow cut of the blade as a dull shrunk came from behind you, you leant forward at the lack of pressure, knowing you were no longer held captive as John rushed to your side, examining you for any horrific injuries.

You could only turn and watch as Graves’ body fell to the ground, a shrouded figure holding a knife shadowed the area, another person standing close to him as well. One wore a signature mask pulled up to his lips, the other was flushed a pink color, much like you had been before.

König and Horangi.

They had saved you.

“Go. Before your father sends out hounds looking for you.” Horangi spoke, voice airy as he subtly placed a hand upon König’s waist. Huh. Maybe they wouldn’t be so devastated as to not have your hand in marriage.

Tears welled in your eyes as realization set in. You were really doing this, really running away from all the blasphemy that was royalty. You could be free, could be with your John as you always hoped. It would be hard, but your mind was settled the moment you kissed your knight for the first time.

“Thank you.”

A steel knife sliced its way across stew vegetables. It was amateur chopping at best, but you’ve been practicing for the oncoming winter.

With a hum, you moved to place the potatoes into your pot of boiling cream. The fire burned comfortably in the small cottage made by hand. Stones were masoned expertly to create a fireplace, among with the strong boards of Oak to keep out the salty sprays from the sea.

The door opened with a creak, cold air blowing into the homey space in frozen waves. You suppressed a shiver, but felt warm at the sight of your husband.

He held a stack of firewood in his arms, biceps bulging as he placed the logs down into the crate next to the flames. He shook from the cold, but it seemed he was already warmer as his crystalline eyes locked with yours. It had been two days since he had left for a hunt, the longest you’ve gone without seeing him as of late.

John was growing nervous as the days grew shorter. With the shortening days, came the higher probability of giving birth.

“How are ye’, flower?” Your husband asked eyes falling to your swollen belly with so much love that your face couldn’t help but break out into a smile.

“I say we are better now that you are home.”

John laughed heartily, the sound booming through the whole cottage as he hugged his family close to him.

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #call of duty #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap MacTavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish

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luv4fandoms · 3 months

Text

Knight in shining armor (Marko x Fem!Reader)

I found the first part of this in my notes and decided to finally finish it lol.

Pairing: Marko x Fem! Reader

Word count: 2,776

Warnings: PURE SMUT!!! MINORS DNI

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Ko-Fi

"Hurry up already" Marko huffed, arms outstretched along the back of the couch as he stared down at you, his legs spread with you in between them, hands gliding up his jean and leather covered thighs while you pressed kisses to his clothed bulge.

"Now why would I do that? You love to tease me" you told him as you grabbed him through his pants, earning a hiss from the blonde.

"Keep it up and you won't be able to walk by the end of the night" he warned, which only brought a smirk to your lips.

"Is that a threat of a promise?" You asked, keeping eye contact as you licked over the bulge, earning a deep growl from him.

"Babe" he dragged out through clenched teeth.

"You're no fun" you giggled, reaching up to unbutton and unzip his pants, his eyes never leaving you while you gently pulled down his pants enough to release him. Marko rarely wore underwear, and sometimes you wondered if they all decided to forgo the article of clothing, or if he just hated them, either way, it always made this sort of thing easier.

Giving him an experimental stroke you heard him hiss again, eyes closing as you ran your thumb over the tip, collecting the pre-cum that beaded out. Leaning forward to lick over the slit while you ran your hand down to his base he groaned at the contact, pleasure beginning to wash over his tense form. This was what you were hoping for, to get him to finally relax after last night.

It started out as a typical night at the boardwalk, the boys had gone off to hunt and you had decided to simply walk around until they returned, something you had done plenty of times. Each time Marko would tell you to be safe, and if you needed anything to run towards the beach and he would come find you. You had been minding your own business, eating an ice cream as you walked around and enjoyed the music and current festival that was happening, but of course, that came to an end when the surf Nazis showed up. You were used to them by now, having encountered them plenty of times with the boys, but they seemed to have sought you out like sharks with blood when they saw that you were alone.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” You heard the one speak, and you didn't even have to turn from the vendor stall to see the smirk on his lips, his tone making your skin crawl.

“Piss off” you stated, going back to looking at the patches, trying to find ones that Marko would like.

“Well that's not very nice, your little boyfriends didn't teach you any manners?” Another one asked, you simply rolled your eyes and paid for the few patches you found, shoving them in your bag before beginning to walk away, you hadn't gotten three steps when a hand grabbed your arm.

“Now come on, we just wanna talk” you finally turned towards the, what you now realized, were three men, and gave them your best death glare before snatching your arm out of his grip.

“Well I don't, so piss.off” you replied, turning and walking away. You thought maybe they had gotten the hint since they didn't grab you again…but of course, you were wrong, you could hear the insults they were throwing even from as far back as they were, and when you glanced over your shoulder, you realized they were pushing past people to get to you. Quickening your speed you began to weave in and out of the crowd hoping that you wouldn't have to take off towards the beach and interrupt Marko's hunt…Though they would just make meals out of the three clowns chasing you. You turned a corner and quickly ran into something rather immobile, or rather, someone. Looking up from where you now sat on the ground you realized it was a man, around your age, medium length black hair and the most friendly eyes, from the look of his clothes he wasn't from Santa Carla, just another tourist who you had sadly been brought into your mess as you heard the voices grow louder.

“Are you ok? Didn't mean to run into you” he smiled, offering you his hand that you gladly took.

“Yeah, sorry I was-” you were cut off as the three you had been running from rounded the corner, coming to a halt upon seeing you.

“There you are you little bitch” the one sneered.

“Friends?” The guy asked as he pulled you closer.

“Ha, they wish”

“You don't need to be involved, just hand over the little whore and we'll be good” the second one stated, but the guy gently pushed you behind him.

“I think I'll pass on doing that, sorry” he told them, which only angered them more.

“You wanna fuckin die dude? Just run along and let us have her, we ain't got any beef with you” the third one snapped. The guy looked back at you, your eyes meeting for a moment before he turned back to them.

“Or you all could fuck off” he shrugged, and that seemed to be the final straw as the guys jumped at him, he quickly pushed you aside, causing you to slightly catch yourself on the wall, the brick scraping your arm and causing a small amount of blood to bead up. You watched with wide eyes as the man easily beat up all three guys with moves you had only seen in martial art movies, it honestly made you stare in awe at the man, who was now staring down at three groaning surf Nazis.

“Are you ok?” He asked, meeting your eyes before seeing the small amount of blood on your arm.

“Shit I'm sorry” he apologized, quickly grabbing a tissue out of his pocket and going to press it to your wound, when a hand grabbed his wrist…A gloved hand you knew all too well.

“Touch her and die” Marko all but growled as he stared the man down, you knew even though the man was taller than him, Marko was far more deadly.

“I'm sorry?” The man questioned.

“Marko baby, it's ok, he helped me” you tried to reassure your boyfriend, who immediately looked down at your arm.

“Yeah, looks like it”

“It was an accident, he pushed me out of the way” Marko's eyes left the man and looked down at the three groaning men.

“Why didn't you come get me?”

“I didn't want to be a burden” the look he gave you after that sentence was both of annoyance, and hurt.

“It's ok though, I'm fine” you tried to reassure him, putting your hand on his which still held the man's wrist, you felt his grip slowly loosen enough for the man's wrist to fall.

“Thanks to your knight in shining armor” he muttered, but you caught it, caught the tone, the hurt that lingered on his words.

He has been in that mood since then, but you'd be damned if you let him stay in it for another night. He was your boyfriend, your mate, the only one you wanted…And you were going to make that known. So you had coerced him onto the couch with kisses, and were determined to right a wrong in his mind.

“Fuck” he sighed, one hand reaching down to thread through your hair, the other now gripping the back of the couch. Your hands pulled his pants lower, allowing him to spread his legs wider as you took more of him in, a low, almost purr sounding in the back of his throat as his hips lifted slightly.

“all of it” he groaned, and you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes meeting his, noticing his pupils were already blown wide.

“Take all of it” he panted, other hand reaching down to grip your hair, guiding your head down further, you had only done this a handful of times, but you knew how much he liked it, so with a deep breath you relaxed your throat, allowing him deeper.

“That's it” he sighed, head falling forward to watch you.

“Good girl” he groaned, letting you just sit there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your hot throat flexing around him before he slowly pulled you back up, allowing you to take a breath before he guided you back down. After the fifth time you gently grabbed his hands and put them on the couch, letting him fall out of your mouth before grabbing him and stroking.

“thought this was supposed to be about me” he tried to joke but it ended in a hiss and you leaned down and sucked for a moment.

“It is” you replied once you let him go, mouth leaving him but hand never stopping.

“But I have to breathe,” you joked. Watching has his eyes slowly opened, looking down at you with an unreadable gaze for a moment before he spoke.

“Bet you'd choke for your knight in shining armor” he muttered, and there it was, what was still putting him in a bad mood-when you had been in danger, he wasn't the one who saved you. You rolled your eyes and lowered your head, his own falling back on the couch as he figured you were going to take him back into your mouth, what he wasn't expecting was feeling your teeth sinking into his thigh. A started shout/groan fell from his lips as his hand shot back into your hand, unsure if he wanted to pull you off or beg you to do it again.

“Cazzo! (Fuck!)” He quickly looked down, eyes meeting yours as you licked over the wound, watching as his cock twitched near your cheek.

“Wanna say something stupid like that again?” you asked, kissing up the side of his cock before taking him in again, bobbing your head as you listened to him try to form words, you had never bit him before, but from the looks of it, you'd have to start.

“I s-said” he groaned, hating that he stuttered, but fuck! You had never done something like that before, and now you were going at him, your head bobbing quickly, you hands rubbing what you weren't taking in…Fuck why was he upset again?

“Divieto di sosta (do not stop)” he groaned, body leaning forward, both of his hands resting on your head now, not trying to move you but trying to anchor himself. You grabbed the top of his jeans which rested at his knees and pulled them down to his ankles, before letting him fall out of your mouth and kissing along his thighs, he groaned at the loss but waited to see what you would do. You started at his knee, slowly kissing upwards as you spoke.

“if you ever, for a moment” you started, only stopping to bite into his flesh again, earning another groan, his hand tightening in your hair while you moved over to his other leg, kissing upwards.

“think that I would want someone else” you bit down again.

“Cazzo! Dio sì (Fuck! God yes)”

“Then you” you bit near his hip bone, watching as his hips shot up, chasing the feeling.

“Are very much” you bit near his other hip bone, listening as his groans became murmurs of Italian.

“An idiot” you ended, leaving the last bite on his stomach, a place you knew was sensitive, and a place where everyone would be able to see it, and maybe that was what set him off, the thought of you marking him, or maybe he had just had it, but quickly you were eye level with him-his hand gripping the back of your head, fist tangled in your hair.

“cazzo ingoiami, o ti spezzerò (fucking swallow me, or I will break you)” he growled, eyes gaining a bit of a goldish hue as he looked at you, his body lightly shaking as he gripped the couch with his other hand.

“promessa o minaccia?(promise or threat?)” You asked, watching as his eyes widened for a moment, you had never spoken Italian before, never had told him you were even learning it since you wanted to surprise him, you quickly leaned in a stole a kiss while he was in his shocked state before falling back to your knees, you mouth swallowing him down before he could say anything else, though what did tumble out of his mouth was nothing but sighed and groaned Italian as he leaned back again and let you work, you could tell he was starting to get close though when his hips began to buck upwards more often, and his hand tightened in your hair again.

“Più veloce (faster)” he panted, eyes opening to look down at you, you doubled your efforts, tongue running along the underside before you flicked it over the slit which now steadily leaked precum.

“proprio così (just like that)” he groaned, struggling to keep his eyes on you as you worked, he watched your hand leave him, instead reaching down and cupping his balls, he groaned at the feeling, his end coming closer at your touch.

“brava ragazza-cazzo, così buono (good girl-fuck, so good)” he moaned, his body beginning to lean forward, wanting to get closer to your touch.

“Divieto di sosta (do not stop)”he panted again, feeling himself rushing towards his peak, all he would need would be a little more, a little more of your hot mouth swallowing him down, your hands cupping him, stroking him. The sounds of you slurping the mixture of his cum and your own saliva that ran down his length as you worked, it was all music to his ears and he could feel himself starting to tense, his boots digging into the stone floor of the cave…When your nails scratched down his legs, digging into them he lost it.

“CAZZO!” He all but screamed, eyes rolling back as both of his fists locked into your hair, holding your head down as he came. Luckily you had done this before and knew what to expect, Marko always liked to make sure you got every last drop, but from how he was slightly shaking and the look on his face, eyes rolled back and mouth opened in a silent moan, you think this may be because of a new reason.

His hips lifted off of the couch in shallow thrusts, soft gunts and whispered “cazzo”s fell from his lips as his body slowly came down from its high. You felt his grip loosen before his hands left your hair, falling beside him on the couch. You quickly pulled off of him, swallowing what you could and wiping off the rest before you gently straddled his lap, being careful of him in case he was a bit sensitive, though knowing Marko he would probably enjoy it. You gently kissed his neck, cheeks, before landing on his lips, smiling when you felt him kiss back, hands coming up to lightly hold your waist. When you broke apart your eyes once again met hazel, and you smiled at your boyfriend.

“ti amo (I love you)” you whispered, watching as the smile spread across his own lips.

“Anch'io ti amo. per l'eternità (I love you too. For eternity)” he whispered, hand coming up to cup your cheek and pull you back in for another kiss, a kiss that turned into a slow make out session. When the two of you finally broke apart you cupped his cheeks in your hands and looked at him.

“Now, no more foolishness ok? You're my knight in shining armor, no one else, got it” you told him, watching as he looked away for a moment before looking back at you and nodding.

“Fine, but the next guy that tries to play that role…I'm killing” he told you, shutting you up with a kiss before you could protest.

“Now, in the meantime” he started, grabbing your thighs and standing up, causing you to let out a shout and wrap your legs around his waist. He quickly toed off his boots and kicked off his pants before he headed towards your shared nest.

“You started something you need to finish” he explained, and when you gave him a confused look he simply smirked.

“You marked me, it's only fair I return the favor, and besides, I need to show you how I truly speak my mother tongue,” he replied, tossing you onto the mattress…you were in for a long night.

There it is! I hope everyone enjoys it lol.

Also the guy who helps her I pictured looking like

#the lost boys #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #marko tlb #marko the lost boys #marko x fem reader #marko x Reader #marko x reader #marko smut #marko tlb smut

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 4 months

Text

Lucky For You I'm A Vampire

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: menstruation, blood lust, SMUT (I watched Saltburn and got a little too inspired by one scene... you know the scene you horny fuckers), oral sex, soft dom Astarion, praise

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You woke up with a start, your thighs felt sticky and the faint scent of iron tinged your nose. You sighed, getting up and cleaning yourself quickly. You groaned at the blood spot on your bedroll. You would wash it later, right now you need to find Shadowheart ASAP.

“Shadow-“ you got out before groaning, holding your lower stomach.

She looked at you with quizzical eyes before understanding completely, “Here, moon tea. Should help, if not come back and I’ll figure something else out.”

You gratefully took the sachet from her. Walking back to your tent, Karlach stopped you before you got there.

“Here soldier,” she handed you a glass stone with infernal etched into it.

“What’s this?” You asked as you ran your fingers over the smooth stone.

“Wrap it in cloth and hold it where there is pain. I can practically feel your cramps across camp.” She chuckled the last bit as a faint dusting of pink crossed your face.

You nodded, whispering your thanks before you hustled inside your tent. You felt awful. Your moon cycles had never been kind to you. You had been to healers about the severity of them; they told you you had something called “bleeder's wrath”. The healers blamed Loviatar but even you felt that was a little far fetched. Your body just seemed to have a hard time with your period, you bled more than you should. This made you weak unfortunately but you had to saunter on. You put your armor on, walking around Baldur’s Gate. You could feel the sheen of sweat covering you, it was beading on your brow. You felt nauseous, trying your best not to wretch. Your vision faltered, things looking swirly before you decided to pay the floor a visit. The last thing you saw was everyone rushing towards you, distant calls of your name ringing in your ear.

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You woke up but kept your eyes closed, your head was pounding. You opened your eyes when Astarion cleared his throat to catch your attention.

“Hello love.” you spoke.

“Hello darling…” he replied, walking over to you. He dabbed a cool rag over your forehead. “Why didn’t you say you felt unwell? Especially with something I can help you with.”

Your head snapped to him, you pushed yourself up onto your elbow. “What?” you stuttered.

Astarion dropped the rag into the pail of water, “My sweet… I can smell you…” he looked at you, his eyes were blown wide with want.

“It’s not the right time of the month…” you said, backing up a bit.

“Lucky for you I’m a vampire…” he said, softly trailing his hand up your leg before he slipped it into your underwear.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered closed. “Star…” you panted as his fingers worked you.

“Shhhhhh…” he whispered, pulling his hand off you and licking your crimson off them. He traced your lips with his index finger, smearing blood and essence on you. “Are you going to be good for me?” he asked in a sultry, low rasp. He pulled your lower lip down with his thumb. You glanced down before taking it in your mouth, sucking and licking it clean. Astarion’s eyes had never looked so glazed over with desire. He pulled his thumb from your mouth before descending down your body. Kisses, hickies, and nips littered your body. Your back arched when he kissed your pubic bone. He licked your thighs clean before sucking your blood and essence into his mouth.

“You are perfect, every time.” he winked up at you.

You squealed, your breathing was erratic. You could feel yourself leaking, arousal and blood gracing his tongue like syrup.

He was like a man starved, he was devouring you. Your mind was racing but it was also empty. The pleasure was all you could feel, all you could focus on. “So good, so sweet…” he panted out between breaths. His hands roamed you, trying to find pleasure anywhere he could.

Your moans and sighs became constant, your hand pushing his head further into you. His nose rubbing against you combined with his incessant mouth pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name, not caring if the others heard. Astarion held your hips down as you shook, fucking you with his tongue making you a moaning mess. You tugged at his roots, pulling him up to your lips. He was gorgeous. Pale skin covered, dripping with your crimson. His tongue met yours, the kiss was sticky as your blood stained lips met his. Your breaths evened out after a moment, your legs still giving the occasional twitch. Astarion reached for the forgotten wet rag, lightly wiping your thighs off. He wanted to be gentle with how sensitive he knew your body could be.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

Astarion smirked at your fucked out state. “No, thank you my love. I’ve never tasted something so delectable, so heavenly.”

You blushed, giggling slightly before hiding your face in your hands. He finished wiping the blood off himself before pulling your hands away from your face. “You are divine…” he whispered before kissing your wrists.

You batted your eyelashes at him, your eyes were drooping. “Care for a cuddle?” you said, tracing over his jaw.

“Always.” he said, pulling you into his chest.

You immersed yourself in him, he smelled like home. Sweet and simple, earthy and calming. You took deep breaths, wanting to fill your lungs with him. He lingered in your soul in every way one can. His touch. His smell. His beauty. His taste. His voice. All of him was one with you. Complete love and trust is what this feeling was, and god did you revel in it.

“Shit… I should put something on to catch the blood.” you whispered, irritated.

“Why would you do that?” Astarion asked.

You mirrored his confusion, “I don’t want to get blood everywhere?” you responded.

“You mean my breakfast? What a waste darling, shame on you.” he whispered into your neck, licking the shell of your ear before he nipped your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me…” you whispered, rolling your hips unconsciously.

“I can promise you a little death… figuratively speaking.” he spoke softly, his hand tracing over your curves and edges like a phantom.

“A little sleep first…” you whispered, mirroring his body tracing.

“Of course, anything for you pet.” he kissed your cheek, tugging the blanket over you to protect you from the chill of night.

“Love you Star…” you whispered sleepily.

“Love you my sweet.” you heard before drifting off to dreamland.

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Naboo's Note:

I'm such a slut for this one, its serving cunt your honor. I always write my best fics when I'm stoned and baby this is a GOOD ONE. Bleeders wrath = Menorrhagia. Anyways - I humbly want to say thank you for all the support lately, its super awesome and makes me feel motivated. Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. ILYSMFRFRXOXOXO <3!!!

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mamaestapa · 4 months

Text

Nursery Ideas & an Unforgettable Team Dinner

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: Joe shares his nursery ideas with you and the two of you attend a team dinner you'll never forget...

•word count: 3.0k

•warnings: pregnancy, talks of pre-term/early labor, alcohol consumption, a little angst, lots of fluff, and a cliffhanger ending ;)

series masterlist

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June 26, 2023

6 months pregnant

Joe walked into the kitchen where you were making lunch for yourself and the baby. His chest was heaving with each breath he took and beads of sweat were dripping down his face. He adjusted the headband on his forehead that was pushing his grown out curls back as he let out a breath. You could tell he must have had an intense work out.

You turned around and smiled softly at him, "Hi my love. How was your workout?" Joe shrugged as he opened an orange mango Body Armor. "Eh, it was OK." A smirk made its way onto his face as he eyed you, "Would've been better if I had you in there for moral and visual support."

You shook your head, laughing at him, "Oh, so naughty."

"Only for you, sweetheart," he winked.

You playfully rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to the turkey sandwich you were preparing.

"So what's for lunch" Joe asked after taking a generous swig of his Body Armor. "Nothing special," you turned around and held the plate up for him to see, "just a turkey sandwich and some grapes."

"Looks good." Joe said as he walked up to you, holding his arms out for you. You backed up, shaken your head and pushing him away. Your face turned in disgust "Uh-uh, no way. No hugs for you until you shower."

"Awe, c'mon baby why not?"

"Because you smell and you're sweaty, it's gross!" Joe smirked, "So? That hasn't stopped you in the past..."

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you spoke, "Whatever, please, go shower."

"Ugh," Joe huffed, "fine, mom."

You giggled at him, smiling triumphantly and blowing Joe a kiss as he walked away. He turned around and looked at you with a look, shaking his head at you.

"I love you Joey." You called in a sing song tone. Joe sighed, still a little butthurt that you made him go shower, "I love you too."

About twenty minutes later, Joe came back downstairs with dripping wet hair, gray sweatpants adorning his toned legs, and no shirt on. Your breath hitched in your throat as you saw him standing in the doorway of the kitchen. You could practically feel the heart eyes your gaze was turning into as you looked at your boyfriend.

Joe smirked as he walked up to you. "Can I have my hug now?" You bit your lip, pulling the corner in between your teeth. Nodding , you held your arms out for Joe, "Of course daddy."

Joe wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. He swayed you back and forth gently, the two of you humming contently at the contact. Hugging you and his unborn son was Joe's favorite thing in the world. He started to pull away from you, giving your protruding belly a little rub before he pulled away completely.

"Want to watch a movie with me or something? We haven't done that in a while." You asked, a sweet smile gracing your features as you looked up at your gorgeous boyfriend. "Yeah, I will," he nodded, "I'm gonna go put a shirt on, and then I want to talk to you about something..." Joe finished, trailing off his sentence.

You felt your heart drop as he trailed off. You swallowed thickly, suddenly growing nervous. "O-okay?"

"It's not bad, trust me." Joe said, shaking his head and waving off your worried expression, "I think you'll enjoy talking about it."

Joe reached out and squeezed your bicep gently before he headed off to your bedroom upstairs to put a shirt on. You hopped up on the counter and let out a soft sigh as you watched Joe leave the room. You were left downstairs extremely confused. What could he have to talk to you about?

Shortly after going upstairs, Joe came back down wearing an old LSU Football T-shirt. He walked through the kitchen and over to the sliding glass door, beckoning you to come outside with him. You hopped off the counter and walked towards the door out to the backyard. Joe grabbed your hand and lead you over to the swing that sat in the shade near the pool. The two of you sat down on the white cushion, your hands clasped together as you began to sway slowly back and forth. As the swing was swaying calmly in the cool spring breeze, you pushed your hair away from your face and turned to look over at Joe. Joe couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face as he admired how beautiful you looked. Your hair was blowing in the breeze, your skin had that pregnancy glow, and your baby bump looked extra cute today in your summer blouse. You truly looked like the most beautiful woman in the world.

"So," you began with a soft sigh, "what did you want to talk about?"

Joe smiled as he reached into the pocket of his sweatpants. He pulled out his phone, making sure the brightness was all the way up before he unlocked it. You watched him, mesmerized by the smile that tugged at his pink lips. Joe's baby blues sparkled as he scrolled through the device in his hand. He handed you the phone as the smile on his lips only grew wider.

"Peanuts nursery ideas. " You read aloud. You could feel your heart bursting with an overwhelming sense of love and adoration.

Joe had made a Pinterest board full of cute nursery ideas for your baby boy.

You looked up at him, your mouth hanging open with a shocked, yet happy smile, "Awe, Joe!" you gushed, "this is so sweet!"

"I uh, I pinned a bunch of ideas I thought were cute," he said, gesturing to the phone, "and I pinned some I thought you would like too."

Your grin only widened as you scrolled through the many photos pinned on his board. You scoot closer to Joe so he could look at them with you and so you could hear his opinions on each nursery.

"Ooh, this one is cute!" you gushed, "I love the white shiplap on the wall."

"I thought it was cute too, but so is this one!" Joe said, pointing to the nursery he saved that was jungle themed. it wasn't gaudy at all, which you loved. The walls were a sage green and the stuffed animals in the room were all animals you'd find in a jungle. The vibe of the room was soft and gentle, perfect for your baby boy.

"I could see our son having a jungle themed room, you know living in the jungle and all." Joe said with a wink. You nodded in agreement, "I think so too."

After spending about ten more minutes looking through all the pins Joe had saved to Peanuts Pinterest board, the two of you finally had it narrowed down to four nursery themes that you both loved.

One was jungle themed, another was the one with a white shiplap wall, the third was a simple gray theme with lambs and elephant pictures, and the final theme was a traditional baby blue with your baby's name on the wall above his crib.

"I think these all of would be perfect for him, don't you think?" you asked looking down and rubbing your swollen belly. Joe smiled softly, reaching a hand out to do the same, "I agree. I think they all would be just perfect."

You smiled sweetly as you felt the baby kick. You don't know why, but something about your baby's movements made you think about this milestone.

"I know we have a ways to go," you spoke, "but what do you say we get started on it soon? I'd rather be prepared and have it done early just in case."

"Just in case what?" Joe questioned as he looked over at you with furrowed brows. You shrugged before continuing, "I don't know," you rubbed your bump as you spoke, "I mean, he is our first. And this is my first pregnancy, so who knows how long my body will want to keep him in here."

You didn't realize this until you got pregnant, but every expectant mother has an ounce of fear that her child will come into the world too early. You know you shouldn't fear it, but deep down you do. This is your first pregnancy, and you truly don't know how your body will react to many of the wonderful milestones of pregnancy. There's a lot of unknown about know how your body will handle labor, or if you'll even make it to term with your baby boy. It's a scary thought, pre-term labor. But you know it's something you need to consider the further you progress into this pregnancy. While there is a lot of unknown and some fear, the only thing that has helped calm your nerves was that you knew you had Joe with you by your side through everything.

You are truly so thankful for him. Without Joe, this journey wouldn't be easy at all.

Joe wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He pulled you into his side, stroking your arm with his thumb as he spoke, "Sounds good to me, mamas." he sighed softly before continuing, "I know you're fearful that he could come early, but I promise you he won't."

"But what if he does, Joe."

"If he comes early, he comes early. He'll be OK, you know why?"

You looked up at Joe, looking him in the eyes, "Why?"

"Because he has a strongest woman in the world as his mommy. Those genes run through his little body already, I just know it."

You wrapped your arms around Joe. Closing your eyes and sighing contently as you nuzzled your face into his right pec. "You always know how to make me feel better, Joey."

Joe rubbed your back as he spoke sincerely, "Hey, that's what I'm supposed to do. After all the shit you've bee through with me, I'd be a terrible boyfriend if I didn't know how to make you feel better."

You let out a soft "awe" as you pulled away from his embrace. You leaned up and pecked him on the lips. "You're the best boyfriend. Peanut and I are lucky to have you Joe."

Joe smiled, this time giving you a peck on the lips. "I could say the same about you."

You grinned at him as you stood up from the swing. You reached out and grabbed Joe's hand, pulling him off of the swing to join you. "We should probably head in and get ready," you suggested, "dinner party is in an hour."

Joe huffed out a sigh as he stood next to you after getting up from the swing. "Do we really have to go?" he asked, wincing slightly after you said yes. Of course Joe loved his teammates and coaches, but he really didn't feel like seeing all of them tonight for the Bengals team dinner. He would much rather stay home with you, watching movies all night and ordering whatever takeout you and the baby were craving.

"Come on Joey," you grabbed Joe's hand, squeezing it gently as you walked the two of you back inside, "I'll let you pick out my outfit for me." You finished, sending your boyfriend a wink. Joe just chuckled and shook his head at your offer.

Of course you'd bribe him with that.

About forty minutes later after dealing with Joe grumbling about having to leave the house and you rolling your eyes at his griping every ten seconds as you did your makeup, you and Joe were out the door and headed to a restaurant in downtown Cincinnati where you would be enjoying your team dinner. Joe kept his hand on the small of your back as the two of you entered the restaurant. A wide grin pulled at the corners of your mouth as you saw a few of the WAGS sitting at one end of the table, sipping on wine and gossiping about whatever the latest developments in the NFL world were. Joe reluctantly let go of you as the two of you parted ways. You flashed him a warm smile as you walked over to the girls. He smiled back, taking his eyes off of you once Ja'Marr loudly announced that Joe had finally made it.

"Y/n!" Holly cheered, her usual wide grin adorning her features as she stood up from the table. She walked up to you and pulled you into a gentle, yet firm embrace.

"Hi Holly," you giggled as you threw your arms around the blonde, "it's so good to see you." She pulled away from you and brought her hands down to the sides of your bump, which has grown a lot since the last time you've seen her and the other girls.

"Oh my gosh," Holly gushed as she looked at you, "your belly! And that glow! You look so cute." she took her hands away when Morgan and Emma stood up to give you a hug and gush over your pregnancy glow the same way Holly did. The girls were so incredibly sweet as they greeted you. You were so grateful to have such wonderful friends like them.

After greeting all the other WAGS and meeting some of the new faces who you were sure you'd be just as close with, you all moved to sit next to your men. Sam moved down a chair, letting you sit down next to Joe. You thanked him softly, calling him "Uncle Sam" which instantly brought a smile to his face. Joe smiled softly at the two of you as he brought a hand over to rest on your belly. You looked over at him, eyes widening slightly at the contact. Before leaving, you and Joe both agreed to keep the PDA and any attention to your baby bump at a minimum--since the fans still didn't know Joe was the father of your baby.

"I don't care," he said simply as his shoulders shrugged, "I love you and our baby and I'm not going to hide that anymore. If the fans find out, they find out. They were going to eventually anyways."

You just nodded at Joe's words as you placed your hand over his. He had a point. What was the point in hiding who the father of your baby is? The whole world is going to find out once he's born.

You and Joe spent the next couple minutes catching up with Tee, Ja'Marr, Logan and Morgan while more players and coaches arrived. Once most of the team was settled and had their drinks ordered, Zac decided now was the time to give a short and sincere speech, showing his appreciation for every one in attendance.

Zac's wife Sarah tapped the edge of her glass, getting every ones attention for her husband. Zac thanked his wife before he clapped his hands together and started speaking.

"I wanted to take a moment and thank all of you for coming out for this team dinner. I know you all have busy schedules this off-season before we start preparing for training camp and the upcoming season, but it means a lot to me, my wife, and the rest of the coaching staff that you all made an effort to attend. I just want to say thank you for all of your hard work and dedication. I truly couldn't ask for a better group of guys to coach, a better staff to work alongside with," he looked at you as he said the next part, "including our amazing social media manger."

You smiled at Zac, mouthing "thank you". He chuckled softly before continuing his speech.

"But seriously, I'm incredibly proud of all of you and what you and your partners contribute to this team. Tonight is about celebrating all of you, what we've accomplished, and what we will accomplish." Zac picked up his beer, holding it up in a toast.

"Who Dey!" He cheered. A chorus of upbeat "Who Dey"s filled the restaurant as everyone else held their drinks up in a toast. You turned to Joe, clinking your mocktail glass against his mojito. He smiled and pulled you into a sweet kiss before the two of you took a drink.

You looked around the room, smiling as you looked at all of the players and wives and girlfriends. You were so blessed to be apart of a team and organization like the Bengals. Everyone in attendance seemed to already be having blast.

This was going to be a great party. Or so you thought...

hi loves!!

i finally updated again…YAY lol. i deeply apologize for how long its taking me to get updates for this series out. college/finals week was really getting to me…BUT i passed all my finals and actually did extremely well in all of my classes for my first semester, so taking more time to focus on school really paid off :)

but enough about me and college, i wonder what could possibly happen at this team dinner👀 i decided to end it off at the cliffhanger and save the angst for the next chapter. if you’re an angst girlie, these next couple chapters are for you! you should know by now i never joe thinks fluffy for long in this series (at least, for now)😉

as always, thank you all so much for your patience, your support, and your kindness. all of the votes, comments, reblogs, and kind words from all of you my loves is what keeps me going. that goes for readers of all of my work and posts, you all mean so much to me. THANK YOU!🫂🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @blinkloverx3 @jordyn14 @kristencochefski1125 @ryiamarie @unsaidjaelinrose @sinners-98-world @ozwriterchick @hornyforherbert @fangirl-madz @fantasywritersstuff @jackharloww @bernelflo @austinswhitewolf @emherb10

(if you’d like to be removed or added to the taglist, let me know!🤍)

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fic #joe burrow series #daddy issues #dad joe

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bigboywtheskullface · 4 months

Text

Big Guy

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plussize!civilian!reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, non-serious injury, m!body image issues, and allusion to smut but none to be found here (yet). Angsty behind the veil of fluff.

Word Count: 1,772

Reading time: ≈ 6 mins.

A/N: Hi friends!! This is my first writing for Ghost and I’m so happy to be a part of the COD fandom. Looking at Simon Riley… love at first sight man. I’m a big girl who loves big boys. I will often be writing with a plus-sized reader in mind, but will make sure I always include that in the description OR warnings if body size is a large part of the narrative.

Hope you all enjoy the read and feel free to send in requests <3 Always been one of my favorite parts of writing fics on Tumblr.org.

Anywho— happy reading!!!

Ghost liked being a big guy. After the awkward teen phase, after he’d truly grown into himself, he’d never had a single issue with how he was built. Thick, muscle and fat, broad frame, imposing figure. It served him well as a soldier. Out in the real world, things weren’t always sized to fit him, but on a military base, everything felt just right. Big friends, big clothes, big guns, big cars, big wars. He was a legend of sorts. It was hard not to love how enemies knew his name. Hard not to love how they feared the legend of the giant in all black, a mask obscuring his face. Ghost loved that. Ghost was more than happy to be a machine, a legend, an armored weapon that few had ever managed to crack the shell of.

But Simon… Simon was cursing himself right now. As tears welled up in your eyes you did your best to blink them back, attempting to keep a smile on your face for him, though anyone could see plain as day that it was more of a grimace.

You two had just been joking around. He’d been lying face down on the mattress, buried in the pillows, playfully dodging your kisses. You were lying on top of him, wandering hands looking for his only ticklish spot that you swore moved every day. It didn’t, you were just normally bad at finding it. But today, you’d managed to find it immediately. He’d jerked in surprise and you bucked on top of him, the back of his head met the front of your face. It had all happened so fast. He’d just reacted too quickly. He’d lost his cool.

“Shit, shit, shit…” He swore under his breath, his hand cupping the back of your neck as you held one hand over your nose, blood leaking through your fingers. “Fuck, Love, I’m so sorry—“ He jumped up, the bead creaking as it was released from his weight, causing you to bounce a bit, your hand bumping your nose not too gently due to the surprise movement causing you to let out a little whimper. “Fuck—“ He swears once more, “Sorry, I just…” He dashes to the bathroom, grabbing one of the white towels so you could easily bleach away the stains later.

As he came back into the bedroom you took in a deep breath and pleaded, “Si, relax. It’s just a nosebleed—“

“We don’t know that… I might’ve broken your nose.” He objects, walking over and demanding, “Move your hand n’ tilt your head up for a minute. Lemme’ see.”

Only after he’s positioned the towel beneath your nose do you move your hand away, holding it to your side, attempting to keep blood off the comforter. Simon grimaces and as gently as possible brings the rag to your face, “Not broken, just… just keep your head down like that for me. We’ll check again in a few minutes and go to the ER if it ain’t stopped.” He gives a frustrated sort of huff and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, watching a tear slide down your cheek. He wipes it away gently with his free hand as he lets loose another, “Fuck…”

Clumsy fuckin’ oaf he was. Too big for his own damn good… certainly too big for your own good. You’d only been together a little over six months now, but sometimes he wondered how you dealt with it. His looming presence in the smaller quarters of your apartment. In this place, he was damn near useless. Hell, he could hardly turn around in your little kitchenette. There have been many instances of spilled drinks and shattered dishes because of it. Forget any romantic evenings in the bathtub or shower that you so often tried to sway him into. Those facilities were barely big enough for him alone. He didn’t want to crush you or cause some stupid accident like this. Even watching a movie comfortably on the couch seemed to be a monumental task. It always took you ages to settle yourself around him comfortably.

He winced at the thought. He wanted you to be comfortable around him.

You place your hand over his own and look up at him softly, and with a congested voice do your best to reassure him, “Simon, I am okay.”

“S’not okay.” He grumbles, anger laced into his words. While it’s a rough tone, you know it’s not directed at you. “Fuckin’ idiot. I wasn’t paying attention and you got hurt…” Worry washes over his face, replacing the anger once more as he wipes away another tear, “Shit, I’m so sorry, Lovie. Y’know I never wanna’ hurt ya’. I’d never do it on purpose.”

You nod and soothe, “I know, Simon. I know. It was just an accident, that’s all. It’s okay, I swear. I’m okay.”

“I-“ He looks around your small room, suddenly feeling like the walls are closing in. He drops his forehead to your knee and nods against it, closing his eyes and murmuring an, “Alrigh’.”

He places a kiss against your knee and several on your thigh before resting his head against the plush skin. You look down at him and frown slightly. Poor baby looked like a dejected dog. The kind that bites its owner when startled and then immediately regrets it. You know he doesn’t believe you, doesn’t believe it’s okay. You know he feels awful about it. He shouldn’t, not at all. Like you said, it was an accident.

You add on, “It was my fault anyways, you know. You always warn me not to start with the tickling.” You give a pleased-sounding hum, “Found your spot pretty quick that time, kinda’ impressed with myself. Wonder what other fun spots I could find.” You try to flirt, though you doubt the attempt is successful given the stuffy voice, rag up your nose, and brooding boyfriend.

He gives something between and laugh and a scoff and glares up at you through deep brown eyes, “S’not funny.”

“I think it’s a little funny.” You shrug

“You’re the only one.”

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout, “C’mon, Simon. It’s really not bad. I can already feel it letting up.”

To prove your point you withdraw the rag from your nose and fold it to get a clean part. The smallest bit of blood trickles out of your nose and you quickly wipe it away, holding the rag in place once more. He gives an unimpressed grunt, his hands moving up to rub the outside of your thighs, his form hunched over to make himself smaller in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” He says once more.

“Simon…” You sigh out exasperated.

“No, not just—“ He huffs, “Not just for the nosebleed. Just for bein’… bein’ so bloody brutish. M’too big for your space, Love, too big for your world. Feel like I come in here when I’ve got time off and muck everything up. Breakin’ shit and takin’ up too much space.” He glances up at you apologetically, “Now’m hurtin’ ya’ too? I don’t like it.” He shakes his head, “Sometimes… sometimes I think maybe you’d be better off with a normal man… for plenty of reasons, but this one too. Shouldn’t have some monster loomin’ over ya’ all the time. Want you to feel safe and comfortable in your own space.”

Your heart breaks a little as you listen to your boyfriend nervously ramble. His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink as he makes his little speech, stumbling over a few words. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Have I made you feel like that, Si?” You ask, lowering the rag from your nose, “Have I said or done something to make you think that’s how I feel?”

“What? No. ‘Course not. Just somethin’ I think about every now and again s’all.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, his large arm bumping against your knee.

“Baby…” You whisper softly, reaching your clean hand out to take his face, tilting his head upward so his eyes are forced to meet yours. “I don’t feel that way at all. I— well, I love how big you are.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks gently and say, “I feel so safe with you, Simon. I’ve always been the biggest person in the room, always been the biggest person in the relationship. I’ve always felt like I have to protect everyone else.” You smile, “And I would protect you, if I had to, of course. The best I could. But I don’t feel like I have to. You do so well taking care of both of us. You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

“I do my best.” He mumbles

“And you do so well, Simon.” You reassure, “There is no one— and I mean no one— that I would rather have taking up space in my life.” He gives a faint smile and you give a little giggle, stuffing the corner of the rag up your nose as best you can before wiggling off the side of the bed and down into his lap. You throw your arms around his shoulders and he presses his forehead to your own. “Not to mention…” You murmur, shifting on his lap to get closer to his ear, “I love the way your body feels on mine.” You kiss below his ear and smile as a slight shiver racks his body, “Love feeling your weight on top of me… and beneath me. Behind me is pretty damn good too—“

“Alrigh’, alrigh’’…” He mumbles, his tone slightly amused, “Settle, Lovie.”

You giggle and nuzzle against his neck, “Mm… can’t help it, you got me thinkin’ now, Si.”

He gives a low hum in his throat and nudges your head away from his own carefully, “You’re in no condition for that mess right now.”

“I am too.” You pout

“No…” He chuckles, pointing to your nose, “You aren’t. Give it at least a few hours for me.”

“Scared of a little blood, soldier?” You tease, running your hands up and down his biceps.

“Y’know damn well m’not.” He huffs out, “Just want to give that pretty little head o’yours some rest. Make sure the bleedin’ doesn’t start again.”

“Mm… one hour?”

“Three.”

“Two.” You bargain back.

He rolls his eyes and gives the offer some consideration before agreeing, “Two. N’not a minute sooner. Understood?”

“Heard loud and clear, LT.” You agree, earning a sharp glare. You force down a giggle and remedy, “Understood, Si.”

“‘Atta girl.”

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equinelifecountry · 5 days

Text

Drowning

Warning: depression, suicidal thoughts and actions, anxiety. torcher, blood (If missed anything lmk) Description: realizing that she was never enough for him and deciding the world might just be better without her in it

part 2

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The clashing of metal singings throughout the top of the mountains being carried off with the wind. Sweat beads on my brow my labor breath is becoming louder by the passing minute I lift my sword again towards the right missing the target that was Infront of me the big Illyrian, the general of the powerful Night Court armies the smirk forming on his makes me want to slap it right off. "Oh, come on y/n I know you're better than that." he swiftly movies and swings his blade at me I dodged it just in time dropping down to the ground swing my legs and knocking him off his feet flat on his back I jumped up and just my foot on his chest with pressure and pointing the blade of my sword at his throat "Yes I know I am." I smirk matching his that claimed his face just moments ago.

It has been just over 3 years since the war against the King of Hybern I just shortly after the war was won so much has changed with my found family and with the new additions to the family the Archeron sister, bless the mother for bringing us Feyre bringing her to Rhysand. I am beyond happy that he has found his mate, his other half that makes him whole. I see from the beginning that day we went to their mansion to ask to host the mortal queens to talk that the tension with Cassian and Nesta was going to lead to something more those two were cut from the same cloth what more than the perfect match the Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death herself. I can't forget about sweet Elain, the way that Azriel looked at her like she was the reason for him to breath and her deep brown eyes seem to lighten looking up at him, it was kind of cliche in a way the darkness and the lightness meets and blends so well together.

I remember when Azriel went into the middle of the enemies camp to rescue Elain even though he could of easily of been killed and that day before the last battle he gave her truth teller. I sat stood across the way putting on my leather and armor when I caught the seen unfold something cracked in my chest, since the day that Nesta and Elain was thrown into the cauldron Azriel always kept a close eye and helping hand to Elain, I could tell from the way he looked at her that it was much more than just being a good friend helping our High Lady's sister adjust to High Fae life he was falling for her, first it was Mor he was pinned over her for the longest time that never seen to bothered me to much. Mor confined in me about her love for other women so I knew nothing was ever going to help between her and Azriel but that still never eased the hurt I felt the way he looked and acted with her. I don't know why I thought there was ever going to be a chance of me and Azriel becoming something more all he sees is the poor broken female hung between those trees deep in the cold forest bleeding pouring form the wounds on her back forming a pool of blood under her feet.

I shook my head trying to shake the memories away grinning again I held out my hand to Cassian he reached up and I helped him back up on his feet. "oh its good to have you back y/n!" he slung and arm around my shoulders and we made our way back down the stairs towards the dinning room. "You never leave us like that again, got it?" I side eyed him "I just needed some space Cass." I signed "To many things happened during the war and everything else going on it was just to much mentally..." Cassian stopped and turned me to face him he had a worried look on his face "I know you do not like to talk about things much but I hope you know that you have me.. you have all of us if you need someone to talk to about thing.." he paused and put a hand on my forearm "I mean it." I just looked at him gave him a small smile and nodded he just did the same.

We walked in silence the rest of the way to the dining room has we walked through the doors a glanced up at the large table sat in the middle of the room there he was and so with everyone else, i mean everyone. Cassian made is way over to Nesta and planted a kiss on her forehead and sat down I stayed in the doorway just staring at everyone. "Come join us y/n." I shifted my eyes toward Rhysand who was looking at me with is smirk he always seems to wear. "It has been far too long since we had everyone for a family dinner." I swallowed hard and blinked everyone now was staring at me waiting for me to come and sit was them or just waiting for a reply. I avoided looking in the direction and the shadow singer and the lovely flower that stay by him I turned and locked my eyes with Rhys "I'm sorry but I think I'm going to have to pass tonight, I am just far too exhausted" he gave me a worried look the same has Cassian did in the hall I felt him trying to break through my mental walls I just shut him out and gave a weak smile and turned to head back up to my room feeling a heavy stare on my back that sent shivers running down my spine.

#acotar #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel x reader #acotar fanfic #sarah j maas #fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader angst

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soulessjourney · 2 months

Text

Voilà

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You and Astarion get into a fight when you decide to duel Orin on your own resulting in your life being taken.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Mentions of Violence, Injuries, Mentions of death

You were fully aware that slipping away in the dead of night to confront Orin would constitute a betrayal of not only your group's trust but also that of the one person who loved you unconditionally. It should have been evident to you that the moment someone woke and found you absent from your bedroll, they would alert the others, and a search would ensue. You should have anticipated their eventual arrival at the temple, where Astarion, practically on his knees, would plead with you not to proceed with the duel. Yet, despite this, there you stood, facing Orin as she circled you, eyeing you as though you were her next prey.

"My, look at you," Orin sneers, her gaze cold as she addresses you. "Father's favorite standing here begging me like a fool. I had hoped killing you would’ve left you dead. I should’ve known that wouldn’t be the case, not when you were his perfect little killer." She spits as she circles you, her disdain clear. Standing taller, you choose to ignore how she has taken on your appearance.

"Oh, how easy it would be to act as you, to torment your little friends until they beg for death," she continues, her voice mocking, her finger trailing against your armor.

Your gaze wanders to the side, spotting your companions watching you, their eyes filled with worry and fear. You had promised you wouldn’t face Orin alone, but part of you knew you had to. You had to break free from your father once and for all. Your heart cracks when your gaze finally lands on Astarion, who is resting on his knees, pure fear adorning his features. Your eyes soften at the sight of him. How you wanted to crawl towards him and hide in the safety of his arms. But you know that if you don’t go through with this, the chances of waking with his blood on your hands will only increase as time goes on. Turning back to Orin, you curl your lip in defiance.

"I don’t want to be his Chosen, Orin. You can take the role if you want it so bad," you snap.

Orin lets out a twisted laugh as she reverts to her true form. "Oh, but you are his Chosen, and the only way to stake my claim is to kill you. So hold still, you pretty little thing, and I’ll make it quick," she mumbles, trailing the tip of her dagger against the side of your neck, nicking the skin and causing your blood to bead against the wound. A hiss escapes your mouth as your eyes narrow into a warning gaze. It's clear she wants a duel to the death, and you are determined to protect your friends, even if it means going down with her.

As a yell tears through your throat, you make the first move, lunging at Orin and swiping your sword in her direction. She gracefully steps back, hissing at you in response. "Dirty way to play, little thing," she hums, just as light shoots up from the ground around her, and she takes on a more monstrous appearance, a slayer form. It's evident she won't make the fight easy, and you are well aware of that fact.

A screech fills the room, its echo bouncing off the walls. Astarion stumbles forward, his breath catching in his throat. "Tav, get out of there! She'll kill you," he snaps. Keeping your back to him, you clear your throat, watching as Orin lunges towards you, her daggered nails tearing into your skin. With a yelp, you jump back, your hand flying up to grasp your wounded arm. You stare at the monster in front of you, your eyes focused on its shape. This is what you were destined to take on if you had killed Isobel or Astarion. Clenching your jaw, you swing again, catching the skin of the Slayer, causing it to screech and its eyes to narrow in on you.

Both of you engage in a frenzied dance, slashing at one another for what feels like an eternity. Exhausted and drenched in blood and grime, you're unsure whose it is - yours, hers, or both. Orin lunges at you again, knocking you to the ground as she swings her claws, tearing into your armor. Distant screams of your companions implore you to fight back, but you're just so weary. Your gaze flickers in and out of focus as Astarion's pleas echo in your ears. Weakly reaching for the sword that was knocked from your hand moments ago, you drive it into Orin just as she moves in for the final blow. Another screech fills the room before Orin’s body collapses onto you, pinning you down. Letting out a cry, you lie there, struggling to catch your breath. The barrier between you and your friends dissipates, and they rush to your side, with Shadowheart and Halsin dropping to their knees to tend to your wounds.

Your eyes scan their faces until they lock onto Astarion's. His expression is blank, but tears stream down his cheeks. You remember him confessing how much you meant to him and how he'd rather endure Cazador’s rule than lose you. Yet here you are, lying in a pool of your own blood, likely realizing his worst fear.

Amidst the faint chatter of the butler nearby, your attention snaps to the familiar sound of your father’s voice. “Child of slaughter. I come to give you your inheritance,” he declares. Pushing the others aside, you rise slowly, confronting the moving reflection in the pool of blood at your feet. “I have a gift for you, Child. You will use it to lacerate this world.”

Shaking your head in defiance, your gaze darts around as you reject his words. “I’d rather die than live in your twisted image.” you declare. “I refuse to be associated with you; you are no father of mine.” A surge of fear courses through you as silence envelops the room.

“You reject my blood, and so I will reclaim it,” he retorts. Your eyes widen in horror as your bones snap and a scream tears through your throat. “I will find another who is worthy.” You're unsure of what happens next; all you can hear is Astarion's horrified scream and see him sprinting towards you as your body crumples to the floor.

---

You felt like you were drifting through a dark abyss, with no sign of light in sight. The chill seeped into your bones, and the desperate urge to call out for Astarion clawed at your heart. Fear surged through you as you curled inward, tears streaming down your face. You had died, leaving your companions behind, abandoning Astarion after he practically pleaded with you to stay away from Orin. He had vowed to find a way to free you from your father, but you had ignored his pleas. The realization jolted you awake. He must be terrified. Astarion had confessed that you were the person he trusted most, and you had shattered that trust. You reached for your chest, trying to soothe the ache that lingered there.

With a small whimper, you suddenly jerked, feeling as though you were being propelled back towards something. The dark surroundings blurred as you were thrown further. Air rushed into your lungs as your eyes snapped open. Rolling onto your hands and knees, you retched onto the floor. When you finished, white strands fell across your face, catching your attention. You furrowed your brow; you were sure you never had white hair. Those dark strands with a deep red hue haunted your dreams, a reminder of your blood relation to Bhaal.

A hand rested on your back, and you slowly lifted your head to find Karlach standing before you. You had expected to see Astarion, but he was nowhere to be found. "Hey there, soldier," Karlach murmured, helping you to your feet. "Take it easy; it's not every day someone returns from the dead," she said with a gentle chuckle, supporting you with her arm.

Shadowheart approached with a smile, remarking, "It seems white hair is the theme of redemption." She examined you for any injuries, noticing your gaze searching for Astarion among your companions. "He's gone; he left after Withers began chanting," she said softly, guiding you away from Karlach for better support. As you stumbled out of the tower, your heart sank. Astarion wasn't there when you woke up, and you couldn't blame him. You had betrayed him, and his absence weighed heavily on you.

He was quick to pull away, shaking his head. "You don’t understand, do you? You died. I lost you, and you will never know what that feels like. Having to watch your body go limp, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t save you. Each time I blink, all I can see is you crumbled on the ground, lying in your own blood. Your skin was so cold, Tav. I couldn’t feel that warmth every time you hugged me or held me as we slept. You weren’t looking at me with those beautiful eyes of yours anymore; no, they were hidden behind your eyelids. You were gone, Tav, and I never want to experience that ever again." Your shoulders fell at the sound of his voice cracking. You had truly crushed him, and you knew it would bring on new trust issues between the both of you, and you would spend your entire life making it up to him.

"You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like. I’m so sorry, my Star. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to do everything in my power to protect you from myself, even if it meant risking my own life. You mean the world to me, and I never want to put you in harm's way. Not like I did, ever again. I’m here now, and I don’t plan on leaving your side ever again." Your eyes searched his for any sign of rejection, but there was none. He only nodded and pulled you into a crushing hug, his tears falling onto your shoulder.

"Please don’t leave me like that again. I couldn’t begin to think about what happened to you. If Withers wasn’t able to bring you back, I wasn’t sure how I would be able to go on. I would’ve been so lost without you to lecture me about my bad habits or to call me out on my poor decisions. Promise me you’ll never do that again." His arms tightened around you as you brought your arms up to wrap them around his middle.

"I promise, I’ll always be right here." And you would keep that promise, even if it meant jumping from one lifetime to the next, you would always find Astarion and hold him close. You may have saved him from himself, but he was your savior in more ways than one.

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moa-broke-me · 7 months

Text

PJO characters as gods:

So there was a post going around about the idea of PJO characters being treated as gods in a thousand years or so, and I like the idea, but some of the godly placements felt a little off to me LOL, so I decided to make my own pantheon. (not sure how to order these, lol)

Percy: God of the ocean and all its creatures, of water in general, hurricanes, earthquakes, cities, family, and horses. Titles: The savior of Olympus, the good son, the loyal husband, retriever of the bolt, king of the gods. Sacred items: Stuffed animals, particularly bears (panda pillow pet), any item colored blue, but especially food, like candy or cookies, bull horns, and pens. Sacred animals: All marine life, the black pegasus, the black dog, and the ophiotaurus.

Annabeth: Goddess of war, strategy, intelligence, wisdom, practical knowledge, civilization and the building of houses, the study of history, and the mind. Titles: The general, the architect, favored child of Athena, queen of the gods. Sacred items: Knives, rings, clay beads, coral, silver, and popcorn. Sacred animal: The owl.

Clarisse: Goddess of war, revenge, anger fueled by love, triage and midwifery. Titles: The eager soldier, slayer of the drakon, retriever of the golden fleece. Sacred items: Spears and weapons in general, wool/fleece, and chariots. Sacred animal: The boar. Often depicted bloodstained, charging into battle without armor.

Frank: God of war, animals, change, the transition from boyhood to manhood, of the duality between strength and gentleness. Titles: The reluctant soldier, the changeling lord, the young praetor. Sacred items: Bows and arrows, playing cards (mythomagic), charred wood, and a silver medallion on a red string (the canadian sacrifice medal) Sacred animals: The bear and the bee, both the most common depictions of him as an animal.

Reyna: Goddess of war, patriotism, fidelity, independence, leadership, strength, sorority, and resilience. Titles: The shield, the politician, guardian of Athena (bc the athena parthenos). Sacred items: Cloaks, gold, silver, and oat cakes (oatmeal cream pies). Sacred animal: The hound. Often depicted either shielding a little boy with her cloak or braiding hair with her older sister.

Hazel: Goddess of jewels, caves, broken curses, witchcraft and the mist, art, death and escape thereof. Titles: The princess of the underworld, the queen of magick, the illusionist, the dead girl who rose again. Sacred items: Schist (because... obviously), pencils and oil pastels, gold, shrimp stew (because gumbo), Tarot cards, and caramel candy. Sacred animals: The horse, the stoat, and the black cat. Often depicted either drawing or riding horseback, usually with her older brother, but sometimes alone or accompanied by her husband or one of her friends.

Nico: God of darkness and shadows, death, decay, loss, longing, love of all kinds, language, diplomacy and forgiveness, insomniacs, immigrants and orphans, mourners and outcasts, and sewing. Titles: The bereaved, king of the underworld, the ghost king, the romantic, deliverer of Athena (again, the statue, not the actual goddess). Sacred items: Playing cards (mythomagic), soft suede leather, fried bits of chicken (mcnuggets), sewing supplies, oat cakes (again, oatmeal cream pies), Posca (not the pen; the drink. it's like an ancient roman gatorade), pomegranates, anything colored green or black, and memento mori rings. Sacred animals: The bat, cerberus, unicorns (because unicorn draught), all stray animals, and any animals or insects that feed on carrion. Commonly depicted either weeping or accompanying his little sister or husband. (@yonemurishiroku you're gonna love this one)

Bianca: Minor goddess of death, darkness, rebirth and reincarnation, sisterhood, and the hunt. Titles: The broken promise, thief of the forge, slayer of Talos. Sacred items: a carved statuette of her father, and a bow and arrow. Sacred animals: None. Most often depicted climbing onto the back of Talos, or comforting/bickering with her little brother.

Will: God of medicine, light, summer, and the sun. Title: The healer, the sun. Sacred items: Candy bars, medical equipment, lamps, summer fruits, and anything colored yellow. Sacred animal: The cat.

Thalia: Goddess of lightning and storms, maidenhood, the moon, the night sky, wilderness and the hunt. Titles: Queen of the skies, the hunter, guardian of sanctuary. Sacred items: Leather, golden fleece, the severed heads of dolls (bc of the 'barbie is dead tshirt), and pine trees. Sacred animal: The black eagle. Commonly depicted dressed in black and silver, behind a shield emblazoned with a terrifying face.

Jason: God of clear skies and wind, daylight, law, leadership and fatherhood, heroic sacrifice, child soldiers and the military. Titles: Prince of the skies, the retired praetor, the golden boy. Sacred items: Eyeglasses, dense chocolate cakes (brownies), peaches, swords, silver wire (staples), bricks, and feathers. Sacred animal: The wolf. Often depicted with a spear lodged in his back.

Piper: Goddess of love, the heart, beauty in all its forms, charisma, music, wealth, and fame. Titles: Beauty queen, the snake charmer, the dove, the silver tongue. Sacred items: Knives, jewelry, anything colored in pink or light purple. Sacred animals: The dove.

Silena: Minor goddess of love, specifically first love, regret, noble sacrifice, grieving widows, and disguise. Titles: The young lover, the spy, the bleeding heart. Sacred item: Armor. Sacred animal: None. Often depicted wearing armor while lying on her back, bleeding.

Drew: Minor goddess of beauty and adolescence. Title: The betrayed. Sacred items: Seashells, seafoam, cosmetics, perfume, and really anything with a strong, pleasant scent, like herbs, flowers, or incense. Sacred animals: None. (side note, I made up most of this just because canon gave us Literally Nothing)

Leo: God of fire and the forge, machines, invention, humor, cookery, and runaway children. Titles: The engineer, the orphan, builder of the Argo, the forge, the devil, and the trickster. Sacred items: Tools, oil, cinnamon, cooking utensils, and bronze. Sacred animal: The dragon.

Charles: Minor god of the forge, blacksmithery, and fallen soldiers. Title: Courage of the gods, the young lover. Sacred items: Canned fruit, promise rings, and green fire. Sacred animals: None.

Tyson: Minor god of blacksmiths and the ocean, specifically underwater volcanoes. Titles: General of the Cyclopes, the rising mountain, brother of Percy. Sacred items: Peanuts (because peanut butter), shields, watches and clocks (because of that watch that becomes a shield that he made for Percy), ships, and canons. Sacred animals: None.

Grover: God of animals, nature, wilderness, music, empathy and emotional sensitivity, and the young. Titles; The protector, the searcher. Sacred items: Pan flutes, walking sticks (those crutches he used to blend in), flowers, cheese (bc of the enchiladas), apples, and any kind of plant life. Sacred animal: The goat. Often depicted as half-goat-half-human, sometimes wearing a wedding dress.

Rachel: Goddess of wealth, youth, rebellion, nature, art, hedonism and impulse, and prophecy. Sacred items: Hairbrushes, art, and art supplies. Sacred animal: The yellow bellied armadillo.

Sally: Goddess of the hearth, motherhood, writing and literature, women, and survivors of abuse. Titles: The sculptor, the author, the victor, the good mother, queen among women. Sacred items: food, especially the blue kind, and books. Sacred animal: The snake. Often depicted either holding a little boy behind her or holding up the head of medusa.

If there's any character you want me to do next, please tell me!

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sciencelings-arts · 3 months

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🌻✨��️‍⚧️Girlifies Capcoms favorite punching bag✨🏳️‍⚧️🌻

Closeups and rambles about the designs under the cut, you know the deal

I stared at Feenie’s pitiful puppy eyes sprite for like a half hour for this, I just wanted you guys to know that. I couldn’t decide on whether I wanted to draw her bleeding or include the necklace because logically they can’t be there at the same time but I did it anyway because I wanted to. Also I wanted her to be splattered with paint where in later iterations she’d have scars.

Sunflower/defense attorney badge inspired earring, and bleeding heart necklace. I didn’t feel like going easy on the symbolism on this one lol.

Closeup of Rookie!Phoenixes gay little earring, I love putting too much detail into things that end up being way too small to appreciate. Obviously it’s an Edgeworth reference, and a reference to that one DD concept art where he has a little blue knight on his tie and I thought this is her era of getting really into being a knight in shining armor for everyone ever.

All the earrings/jewelry correspond to the people she’s closest to at the time, or at least most devoted to. Feenie: Mia and Dahlia, Rookie: Edgeworth (the sketch had the chess piece replaced with a large bead which is for Maya/Pearls), Beanix: Trucy, and MILFeen: the WAA (the star in the celestial trio alongside Athena’s moon and Apollo’s Sun)

Another note about the main trilogy Fem!Phoenix design is that I included temporary marks from Franziska’s whip rather than the burn scars from the bridge which are included in the later versions. Also the scars from being bashed in the head bc i felt like that wouldn’t just disappear, and I wanted to focus this design on JFA.

More about the scars, specifically her lip scars, I wanted to give her a darker lipstick that she uses to draw away the attention from the necklace chomping scars but during the 7yg she kind of gives up on hiding them. I also wanted to make sure there’s a dramatic change between Beanix and MILFeen, Edgeworth bullied her into having a decent skincare routine.

Speaking of Edgeworth, she’s here, having homosexual feelings in the background. As usual. The fun thing about Narumisu is that they almost exclusively refer to each other by their last names so it doesn’t matter if they have different first names for a gender swap, they will always be ‘Prosecutor Edgeworth’ and ‘Defense Attorney Wright’

All side by side at the sacrifice of image quality. I love her eras

#artists on tumblr #my art #phoenix wright ace attorney #phoenix wright #ace attorney #fem!Phoenix AU #narumitsu #naruhodo ryuichi #wrightworth #through symbolism and a sapphic little sketch #gender swap #trans phoenix wright #beanix #feenie #fem!beanix #fem!feenie #fanart

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djarrex · 1 month

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unsustainable

Captain Rex x f!reader

read on ao3 | masterlist

Falling in love with each other is just not sustainable.

finally have some juice to work on a couple of my half-baked and forgotten wips that would have otherwise sat in my drive to rot. enjoy 1.7k words of this smutty rex angst. 18+ only. explicit.

You grip his shoulders just a little harder as you double your efforts, chasing the feeling you’ve longed for since the last time Rex was here. You’re slick with sweat, your top clinging to your skin. Rex is still wearing some of his armor, only having removed the pieces that would keep him from entering you comfortably. Hardly any of his skin is exposed, except for a patch around where you’re speared on his lap – where he hastily pulled his cock from the waistband of his compression suit.

“I’ve missed this,” you say breathily, bouncing harder on his lap. You reach for the waistband of his compression suit, sliding your hand up and along his abdomen, something made easier after he removed his cuirass. His skin is always pleasantly smooth and soft, warm as the thick muscles flex beneath your palm.

“I’ve missed your fat cock – how it feels when you stretch me open.” Rex groans at that, tilting his head backward as you keep going. “You’re such a good fuck, Rex. Always know what I need and what gets me off.”

You can’t help but get talkative with Rex – it’s something about the way he reciprocates. He’s always listening – astute – to your words and to your body. If you get the ball rolling, Rex takes it and runs. It turns you both on even more.

“Yeah?” He groans again, meeting your eyes. His pupils nearly swallow the deep brown in his irises and you’re utterly lost in them. “Fuck – keep talking like that. I’m so close.”

Rex takes over then, his hands gripping your sides as he rocks his hips upward.

“Shit, Rex. Just like that. I’m gonna cum.” You let your head fall backward only briefly as you let him take over. Heat brews in your belly. Fuck, you missed how it felt to have Rex reach so far into your cunt, knocking the breath out of you.

Breaths, words.

Anything.

“Harder.”

Rex grunts with the extra exertion – complies with your request.

“Harder, Rex.”

His forehead beads with sweat – his breath becoming ragged. It’s so good. You’re floating – drifting among the stars. Cool sparks prick your skin. It’s so much and not enough. You need him. All of him.

“Yes! Rex – right there.”

More breaths. More words. His name.

“I love how you feel–”

Then – the wrong choice of words. A mistake.

“–I love you.”

And just like that – you’re snatched from the edge, pulled away when Rex halts all movement. When you lift your head, his lips have sealed into a thin line, his brows furrowing. He’s watching you. Picking your brain. Your hands fall into your lap.

It slipped. You didn’t mean to let it out. Fuck.

“Sorry.”

You can't love him. He can't love you. It violates the very necessary agreement the two of you had discussed at the beginning of– of whatever this is. Loving the other means attachment. For you, attachment could end in heartbreak, among other things. For Rex, though – attachment will inevitably lead to distraction. You'd both agreed long ago that anything more than sex just would not be sustainable. Impractical. Dangerous – for both of you.

You must not fall for each other.

Not again.

He exhales softly, but squeezes your thigh with just enough reassurance to pull a little apologetic smile from you. Still unmoving on his lap, his cock twitches with want inside of you. His eyes are still pooled with desire and you can’t help the little gasp you make when he carefully adjusts his angle against the bunk.

Rex runs the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip. “Do you want me to keep going?”

You do. You really do. And you thank the Maker that Rex isn’t lingering on your comment – that he won’t let it ruin the moment. You nod, dragging your palms under his compression suit, this time reaching his firm, heated chest, feeling the raised skin of his scar. Leaning toward him, you whisper, “Make me forget.”

Rex is great at making you forget – and he prides himself in that.

He smirks. “Yes ma’am.”

You’re lifted off his lap and tossed onto your back. As your head hits the surface, Rex pulls down the bottoms of his compression suit, granting himself enough give to spread his thighs. The blood rushing in your ears like a rapid river, you clench at the sight.

The rush you feel is only amplified when Rex just as quickly slots himself between your legs, pushing against the underside of your thighs and spreading them to his liking. He sinks into you with a single breath – and doesn’t waste any more time with getting you both back to your peaks. He has you crying out his name in moments, and he gets right into the talking – ever his usual self.

“You’ve missed this, yeah? I’m gonna make sure I make up for it – gonna fill this pussy.” He swallows thickly. “Ask me to fill you. Beg me.”

“Rex…” you gasp. Your cunt sucks him in so perfectly, making the most obscene sounds. “Fill me, Rex. I need you to fill me.”

He growls at that. “Good girl.”

It doesn’t stop there. You’re beyond floating now – more like crashing through hyperspace. You’ve since been flipped onto your stomach, laying completely flat with Rex pounding into you from above. His weight is hovering over you, bits and pieces of his remaining armor imprinting your skin. You feel his breath against your ear – hot and ragged.

“Tell me how much you're gonna miss this when I’m gone,” his broken whisper comes. The sound of it goes straight to your cunt. “Tell me you’re gonna think about this – about this right here – while I’m gone.”

Before you can begin to formulate your gasps and moans into a response, Rex’s arm snakes around your hip, his newly-bare fingers finding your clit. You know he still has armor pieces on his arms, and you’re sure there are going to be impressions of it in your skin, but you’re unable to feel anything other than the molten pressure building in your core. Your orgasm hits you faster than the blink of an eye – knocks you off your axis.

You scream. Rex lets out a loud, shaky groan. He holds you there, pushed into the mattress.

“Good girl. Now take it. Fuck, yes, that’s a good girl. So good for me. Take it all, mesh’la.”

You do – and you allow yourself to bask in the moment, knowing it’ll disappear–that Rex will disappear–far too soon.

When he finally climbs off of you, you feel entirely too empty.

Instead of getting up with him, you just lay there, trying not to think about how his cum seeps out from you with every relaxed breath – how he’s claimed you so long ago – ruined anyone else for you – and this is a reminder.

You can hear Rex reattaching parts of his kit, but he’s silent otherwise. You begin to mentally kick yourself again for slipping. It’s the fear that you’ve ruined everything. Again. The only thing you can think to do with your already sky-high anxiety is to keep talking. You turn to lay on your back, not having it in you to get up and dressed just yet. It’s easier to not meet his eyes this way.

“I’m sorry, Rex,” you say more to the ceiling than to him.

He comes into view then, peering down at you. There’s an unreadable expression on his face. You’re unsure of what he’s thinking – and you’re even more confused when he sits down at your bedside, taking your hand into his.

“Stop apologizing.”

Finally meeting his eyes, you can only press your lips into a line, unsure of what to say next. Unable to stop it, the burning feeling of tears heats your eyes. You go to turn your face away, embarrassed, but Rex doesn’t have it.

“Hey,” he soothes, reaching to instead hold your cheek in his palm and gently redirecting you to focus on him. You’re forced to meet his eyes, but something’s changed. His expression is now clear, a distinguishable look of sincerity written in the way his features have softened. Even his eyes don’t feel as intense – a rare sight – something you haven’t seen from him in a long time.

“We– we tried before,” he begins, the pad of his thumb running along your cheek. You miss the way his hands feel, too used to the rough material of the gloves he wears. An extra layer of him that adds to keeping his true feelings buried far beneath the exterior. “I know it’s hard, but it’s better this way.”

Your voice finds its way back to you. “It’s not hard.” Pausing, you level him with a stare. “It’s impossible to not love you, Rex.”

He considers that for a beat, sighing heavily.

“You know how I feel about you. That will never change.”

It’s far from a confession, but it’s something. It’s all you’re going to get from him.

When all you give him in response is a faint nod, you could swear you see those deep brown eyes begin to swell, the faintest glimmer or tears brimming as his words sit like dense fog in the air.

Just then, his commlink beeps faintly from inside his helmet, briefly redirecting Rex’s attention over to where he set it down across the room. It seems like a thousand seconds go by until he finally meets your eyes again, both of you hiding your disappointment.

“I have to go,” he says quietly, almost a whisper. It’s like he forces the words out, tasting bitter as they leave his mouth. He stares at you, seemingly waiting for you to say something, anything. Maybe he’s waiting for a fruitless argument for him to stay, or one last unnecessary apology – or even one final declaration of your feelings.

But nothing you could ever say to Rex in this moment would change how the two of you can never be together, would never supersede the duties he feels he has to free his brothers, would never stop the Empire from committing more atrocities, would never stop Rex from fighting.

The words feel just as bitter in your own mouth, even before you can speak them.

“I know.”

#djarrex writes #captain rex x reader #clone thirsting #captain rex smut #rex x reader #captain rex x you

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aloesarchives · 5 months

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Love and Tenacity (Tokyo Revenger One-shot)

Warning: Blood, Spoiler Warning, Angst, Swearing, Violence, Alternative Canon Divergence, Details of injuries, Mentions of Character Deaths, Lots of crying, The author(me) being an annoying narrator, Truck-kun obliterating Kisaki, Inaccurate medical information, Plot armor, super long fic, Mentions of starting a family

Series: Tokyo Revengers

Word Count: 7.2k words

Pairing: Manjiro “Mikey” Sano x Fem!Reader(Romantic), Takamichi x Fem!Reader(Platonic/Best Friends)

Pronouns: She/Her (Mikey call reader Baby and Princess)

Summary: Instead of Emma getting hit by Kisaki, you take the fall for her.

(A/N: This fic could’ve been way shorter then it needs to be but I had to word vomit a lot. Will edit this later. I actually have been planning to write this type of fic for a year now but never started it until like a weeks ago. Sorry for the inconsistent updates!)

[Not proofread! 7:19pmCST 11/29/2023]

As always, please enjoy!

The slight ringing in your ears had dulled out everything around you.

Your eyes were fixated on the sky, not a single cloud could be seen above. Like the gates were wide open for you to enter. No obstacles, no stairs, nothing between you and the endless cerulean sea that never failed to look beautiful every time.

The faint ringing created this humming effect, drowning out all and any noise. It was strange, it was almost comforting in a way you felt a sense of peace.

Your consciousness becomes like the ocean’s tide, rising and falling as time slows down. With your breathing becoming shallow with each passing second, you wondered if what you did would really change anything. What you did could really make a difference that changes everything forever. Takamichi is the only one that can time leap back and forth. Only he knows what you did affected the future. Yet were you able to live and see that reality yourself? Be alive and Takamichi telling you yourself?

Who knows, you wonder.

Face remained parallel with the sky and consciousness became faint, you were completely fazed out of reality. So out of it that you see two figures hovering over you. You can faintly hear bits and pieces of what they are saying, their voices muffled because your consciousness started to slide down the slope.

With blurry vision, you can make out the silhouettes of Emma and Takamichi. Emma, with big beads of tears in her eyes, has her hands covering her mouth to suppress her sobs. Her body shakes as she continues to cry, continuously shouting out your name. Takamichi isn’t any different. Panic and desperation was written all over him with his endless waterfall of tears. As he is hunched over your body, Takamichi continuously pleads for you to stay awake.

To stay with them.

You didn’t want to go, you wanted to stay with them. But your head throbbed and the aching feeling taking over your body, forming a response was something your body couldn’t do. Even blinking was hard because closing your eyes was tempting to enter eternal darkness forever.

As your two friends were desperate to save you and keep you leaving forever, your thoughts drift to Mikey and how he was dealing with all of this. Mikey has been through a lot. He lost so much and you have been there for him all the time.

Maybe Mikey was able to sort things out with Izana, or at least get some things across. You only hoped it wouldn’t be the start of leading him down a dark path.

[~~Flashback~~]

The cold winter air nipped at your lips as you made your way to meet Takamichi at the nearby park.

After the events of Bloody Halloween and Christmas Showdown, you wanted to know everything about Takamichi’s plan. You knew there was no way a junior high kid could have that much knowledge.

There was something about him that made you want to know more about him. Prior to this, you have never met Hangaki Takamichi nor heard of him. You only ran into him when you accompanied Draken and Mikey when Kiyomasa was beating him up. Afterwards, Takamichi became this constant presence everywhere. He fought with the Toman gang when he wasn’t even a member, even saving them multiple times in the gang brawls.

This kid didn’t grow up with any of you guys yet he’s fighting for them like he’s known them for years. He was so persistent and had this conviction unlike any other person you have seen before in your life. You have to admit, Takamitchy wasn’t the strongest, smartest, or a good fighter for that matter. Yet he still goes in no matter what. He knows he’s going to lose but he still fights anyway.

Why?

You wanted that question answered by the boy himself so you asked him to meet up. He didn’t mind but he was concerned about what Mikey would think.

“Trust me, don’t worry about it. Mikey isn’t like that type of person. As long as I tell him the who, where, when, he won’t make a big deal out of it. Plus he’s not worried about you, Takamitchy.”

Is what you said to him on Friday before going home. It’s Saturday and Takamitchy was waiting for you on one of the swingsets. The anxiety was gnawing at him. Should he tell you why he’s really doing all of this? How would you react to it?

Would you even believe him?

The chains from the swings clinked at his grip. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t know you had already arrived. Takamitchy jerked his head up at the sound of your footsteps. You greeted him and sat on the empty swing next to him. There was a small silence that fell upon the two of you. You couldn’t blame Takamitchy for being reluctant to talk. I mean, you literally pried at him to tell you his real intentions. And to be honest, the way you did it almost made Takamitchy piss his pants.

It was like that for a moment before Takamitchy stops moving his swing and looks at you.

“Would you believe even if what I’m telling you is true?”

Caught off guard, you looked at Takamitchy with wide eyes before your signature smile made an appearance on your lips.

“I mean, I have to at this point. I’ve never seen anyone so devoted to fight and save even though they’re not powerful. You never purposely lied to them so you wouldn’t lie to me, right Takamitchy?”

Shaking his head, he looks at you with absolute seriousness.

“No, I don’t want to. The things I’m doing aren’t even for me really but they ended up involving everyone. I need to do this because I have to!”

“ *hums* Then tell me about it, Takamitchy.”

With that, Takamitchy tells you everything about what he’s doing. How, in the future, the consistent deaths of Hana and his friends have haunted him relentlessly. That he has the ability to travel back in time to certain years depending on how much time has passed. The only reason why he got himself involved with Toman was because Hana’s death was linked to the gang. That there were futures where Draken was either dead or on death row, how some of the other members were dead in one. That one person was behind everything that kept creating such bleak futures: Kisaki Tetta.

As you listened and asked for clarification with what Takamitchy was saying, you couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, astonished, and even heartbroken. Astonished in Takamitchy doing all of this and having the willpower to keep going. But you also felt heartbroken and sympathetic because he had to witness the people his friends and the love of his life die right in front of him. You don’t blame him at all for doing what he had to do, and frankly you would do the same if it meant saving the ones you care about.

“And that’s pretty much it, (Y/N). I know it sounds crazy but it’s all true.”

“Isn’t there anyone else, Takamitchy?”

He looked at you quizzically, legitimately not understanding your lack of disbelief of what he was telling you. Instead, you were still questioning him like it was normal.

“What do you mean by that, (Y/N)?”

“As in, who else did you not see in your future timelines? You said that in other timelines, Ken-chin was dead or on death row. Other timelines, everyone else was dead. I feel like we’re missing something here. Like there has to be someone else that plays a role in the downward spiral of Mikey.”

“(Y/N), I don’t see what you’re trying to get at.”

“Takamitchy, think about it. From what you have told me, Mikey goes down this dark path because he loses the people closest in life. Shinichiro, Baji, Draken, what if there’s someone else we are not including. Like what about Emma? Do you know if she’s in the future?”

It took a few seconds to process what you just said, more so the last part. He would have retorted if it weren’t for the realization to hit him.

“(Y-Y/N), you’re not saying Emma dies, are you?”

“Takamitchy, look, I’m no detective. But think about it. If you said everyone is somewhat dead in the future, wouldn’t that include her too? Only you have been to the future, but how come you didn’t question it? You didn’t see her around when you went back to the future at all?”

“I-I…(Y/N)...”

Even though he didn’t give you an answer, his reaction and the fact his eyes are filled with slight panic gave you one. But with this revelation, it meant that Mikey was inevitably going to lose another loved one, specifically his sister. Once that fact settled in for you, your heart sank to the bottom of your soul. Heartache and agony took over your body, if Takamitchy couldn’t save Emma this time, it would guarantee that Mikey would fall into depravity.

‘Mikey…’

You couldn’t let that happen. No, you just can’t. You loved Mikey so much that you don’t know what to do if you lost him. Just thinking about the future versions of Mikey from Takamichi’s recounts made you nauseous and break out into a cold sweat.

You know that Takamichi can’t do this all on his own. His mission will need all the help that he can get, and you were on board with it. Fuck, you do anything for Mikey and your friends.

“Then we gotta do this, Takamitchy. I may not be strong or anything but I wanna help you with this. You have my full support.”

Takamichi nods his head with his classic determined look that you’ve grown to admire. Though this meeting happened before Izana was added into the picture. Takamichi’s resolve to continue on grew more since you gave him reassurance of your help. And perhaps, this meeting only made your friendship stronger.

[~~Flashback Ends~~]

You knew you had to protect and save Emma of a fate that would lead to her premature death. You were well aware how much Emma meant to Mikey, and her dying meant Mikey losing the last family member that cared for him.

Plus Emma didn’t deserve such a fate. She wasn’t involved in the gang at all other than being the little sister of Mikey. But even then, this wasn’t outspoken knowledge and kept hidden except for those in their close circle. To get her caught up in all of these was wrong and scumbag-level. So it was no surprise when Mikey opened up to you about Izana and their shared history together.

But to know that Izana was trying to get Mikey to fight him by any means necessary, you expected foul play to happen. Yet, not where they were going to target someone and get them killed. It was sickening and cruel for this to happen, even in gangs filled with teenagers who were too chicken to even attempt this. But what happened to Pah’s friend and his girlfriend, it could happen.

All the more reasons to keep a close eye on Emma. But there was another reason why you couldn’t let her die. One time, Mikey took you out on his motorcycle through the city. He took you by the ocean as he zoomed and weaved through the streets of Tokyo. As he stopped and parked his bike, you and Mikey were chilling under the night sky while snacking on freshly made Taiyaki. As the two of you were talking, he mentions how he wants Emma to have a nice domestic life with Draken. You question him further and he just states:

“They care about each other. Emma loves Draken, and Draken cares deeply for Emma. It would make sense, and I would be fine with it.”

You never expected Mikey to say something like that. It’s not like he doesn’t have a way with words, it’s more of he never put much thought into it unless it was serious. So for him to say something like this really changed your perspective. Mikey does seem like a selfish and childish person, but in reality he does care for his friends and siblings. He doesn’t like being publicly vulnerable about these things. Even though Emma is his half-sister, he still loves her regardless. Since Shinichiro is gone, it’s just the two of them. So they have a very close sibling relationship.

All the more reason why Emma shouldn’t be endangered, she was a nice girl that deserves to live her life.

She was the reason why you and Mikey are together. So her dying would impossibly crush your heart and soul. You didn’t know how to live with that, more so with trying to be there for Mikey because he tends to push people away. But you opt to sacrifice yourself in place of Emma. While not a part of the gang, you have been at their meetings and helped them with some of their brawls. So your hands are dirty compared to Emma’s.

Gosh, you’re not just doing this for a dear friend. But you’re also doing this for the boy you loved so dearly and for years. You just hoped the outcome would guarantee a better future for everyone that’s still alive.

You didn’t regret this at all because all you wished for was Mikey to be happy too.

—————————————————————————

It just happened so fast.

Takamichi, Emma, and you were exiting out of the cemetery to grab some drinks in a nearby machine. As the three of you were waiting for Mikey and Inupi to be done talking to Izana, a small humming sound could be heard in the distance. At first, you guys thought it was just the buildings and paid no attention to it. However, it suddenly got louder and the three of you turned your heads towards the street. Out of nowhere, there was a motorcycle speeding and b-lining it down the street towards you three. However, you noticed someone holding a baseball bat while riding the cycle.

Perhaps it was pure instinct or intuition, but seeing someone holding a bat in the air while being a passenger of a vehicle isn’t a good sign. Suddenly, you shouted for Takamichi to duck while you immediately pulled Emma in front of you and used yourself as a shield. Unfortunately, your body didn’t take the hit but your head certainly did. The metallic ring of the bat and the silence followed by that was absolutely sickening.

It was barely thirty seconds and so many things had happened. Once the motorcycle had zoomed off, Takamichi turned around and looked horrified. Though Emma was alive, she was hunched over you as she was shaking your body and calling your name. Once the brief shock wore off, Takamichi dashed over and kneeled over you as Emma stood up. She stared frightened as one of her hands had your blood on it. The comotion had caused Mikey and Inupi to come out of the cemetery to find out what was going on. As Izana left quietly, Inupi and Mikey were in a state of shock with the scene in front of them. Emma and Takamichi were crying as Takamichi kept shaking your unmoving body which laid on the asphalt.

Takamichi was trying to explain to Mikey that Kisaki did this to you but his hiccups from his sobs blocked his words. But honestly, even if Takamichi told him, he probably wouldn’t listen because all he cared about was you going to the hospital and being alive. Mikey wasted no time, he told Takamichi to place you on his back so he can run to the hospital with you. Emma wanted to go with them too but Mikey told her only he and Takamichi should go because they would be faster. Plus he told Emma that her shoes wouldn’t allow her to run and she could get hurt while running. Inupi butts in and says he’ll take care of Emma while the two of them take care of you.

The two took off as Mikey and Takamichi sprinted towards the hospital. As they take the side streets and alleyways, the rapid movement causes you to wake up for a bit. Your vision was blurry and your whole body ached, but you recognized that it was Mikey that was carrying you.

“M-Mikey… Is that you?”

Mikey doesn’t pause for a moment but he instantly softens up when he hears you speak.

“Yeah… It’s me, Baby… Don’t worry, you’re going to be okay… Takamitchy is also with us too…”

You shifted your head on Mikey’s shoulder to face Takamichi who’s running alongside him. He doesn’t smile when he sees your eyes on him but you could see the hopefulness in his. You slowly smile at Takamichi as you shift your head once more so your forehead rests on top of Mikey’s shoulder blade.

“Mikey… I don’t think my eyes are working… And my body is hurting all over that it’s hard to move around…”

“I know I know, (Y/N)-chan… Just a little longer… Please… We’re almost there… Just hang on a little more…”

Because of your injury, you couldn’t register what Mikey was saying to you but you just kept smiling. Something that made Takamichi afraid. With your forehead still pressed against him, you still try to talk the best you can.

“Mikey… Tell Emma it’s not her fault… I did this to myself… Tell Draken and the rest they have been great friends, I l-love them like brothers… And Takamichi-kun, please tell Hana that… that she’s a wonderful friend and I appreciate her a lot. Please take… good care… of her… I think you did it right t-this time… It’s up to you now…”

As you kept talking, Mikey involuntarily picked up his pace causing Takamichi to fall behind for a bit. They were so close to the hospital. If you would hold out a little longer, you would be okay.

You would be, right?

Because of the running, Takamichi wouldn’t see it but you felt it from your spaced out consciousness. Mikey was shaking, his whole body was shaking uncontrollably. It was something Mikey couldn’t admit but he was terrified. Terrified that you, the love of his love, the moon to his stars in the night sky, his best friend, would die and be lost from him forever. No, this can’t happen. You’re strong, stronger than most people. You’re one of the strongest people Mikey knows. You couldn’t go down without a fight. Though your will was strong, Mikey’s denial delusions were stronger. He keeps telling himself that you will be okay and make it out alive. That if he gets you to the hospital, it’s fine. But from what you said, the fear of your death grew stronger in him every step he took to save you. There was nothing more terrifying than for someone to see their beloved die right in front of their eyes. Takamichi knew this all too well seeing Hana die right in front of him.

For him to see Mikey go through the same thing was heartbreaking because he was supposed to prevent this from happening. Yet he indirectly caused it to happen by telling you of his time travel ability and the future timelines he witnessed. He becomes guilt-ridden as he played a role in your death, and he’ll suffer the consequences. Takamichi notices the side street that they were on and they were five minutes away from the hospital. As Takamichi caught up with Mikey, your voice became more hoarse and quiet. This wasn’t good. Mikey wished you kept quiet so you could save your strength.

“M-Mikey… You need to start to take… better care of yourself… You can’t just rely on Kenny and Em to do it…”

“(Y/N), princess, what are you talking about? What about you, you take care of me too, don’t you?”

“Yy-yeah… But I think not anymore…”

“(Y-Y/N)-chan, please… You know… I had a dream where it’s just you and me… We have our own place with our own little family… Once you put the little ones to sleep… We hangout with Ken-chin, Takamitchy-kun, Mitsuya, and everyone at our home… We get to eat and drink all the sake we want as you scold me to quiet down because I would wake up the kids… And everyone would be laughing and having a good time as you punk me around…”

You don’t respond right away, which scared Mikey for a bit, but you hummed and spoke up once more.

“That’s such… a nice dream… Mikey…”

“Yeah, baby, I think about it often. I could only imagine that life with you, I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t with you… So (Y/N), please…”

“Manjiro-kun…?”

Oh god, please don’t…

“Yes, (Y/N)...?”

“I love you…”

They were legitimately right in front of the hospital when your body goes slack against Mikey's body. They were right there, if only they were faster.

After that, everything was a blur. Inupi dropped off Emma at the hospital before driving back to Toman’s meeting spot. Not long after, Draken then Hana arrived. The doctor that had his staff take you in didn’t come back out yet. As Takamichi filled them in, the minutes felt like hours. Wondering what condition you’re in, or whether or not you’re still with them or not. Hana was trying to comfort Emma who was sobbing, clearly traumatized from what had happened. Draken stands and stares at the closed ICU doors, and Takamichi stands by the chairs waiting for your news. Meanwhile, Mikey’s seating and is just a shell of himself. His eyes were void of any light and his head hung low to hide his depressive face. He was numb, he doesn’t feel anything nor couldn’t even if he wanted to. The thought of losing you never occurred to him. He always reassured you that he was the strongest, that he could protect you from anyone and anything that dared to harm you. He found out the hard way what happens when he can’t. This is what will happen to you when he’s not careful with you.

After a few hours, the doctor came out and everyone but Mikey stood up and went over to hear your condition. Are you okay? Are you even still alive? They needed to know.

“ The surgery was a success. Your friend is alive because you brought her in within 15 minutes of what I assume was the accident that caused it.”

The friends wanted to cheer and celebrate making it out alive. But with the weight of the doctor’s eyes, it tells a different story. So all they can do is release a sigh of relief.

“However, her injury did cause some bleeding. I don’t know what object hit her, the force of the object caused her skull to have a depression fracture. That fracture created small fragments where some stabbed her outer brain layer that caused the bleeding. Though her skull will heal naturally, the force of the blunt trauma caused her to have a severe concussion. With that, after the operation, she was placed in a medically-induced coma. We believe this is the best choice for her recovery.”

“Do you know when she will wake up?” Takamichi hesitantly asked.

“I can’t say for sure. The coma is meant to help her body recover and reset her body from what has happened. Even though we placed her under, it’s not strong and she can wake up if her brain allows her to. It could be at least 12 hours or more when she wakes up though.”

The doctor excuses himself as a nurse tells them that only two people at a time can see you. Hana and Emma were the first to go. Draken decided while the girls were seeing you, to ask Mikey to come outside to have a little talk.

But it was anything but one.

There, Draken was laying it on Mikey, whaling him in the face each time. And while Mikey was allowing the blows to come. No flinching or wincing whatsoever. It was like Mikey had shut down completely. Takemitchi was trying to hold back Draken but got shocked in the face in doing so. It was a chaotic scene in the parking lot. Draken was beating the daylights out of Mikey while Takamichi was trying to split them up and ended up bowing his head on the floor. Takamichi apologized profusely to Draken because he was technically there when you got hit so he was responsible for your condition. He hadn’t realized it but Draken was crying as he raised his fist to punch Mikey again. Yet the punch never connected. He stood there, letting his tears freely fall with his lip slightly quivering to keep his sobbing from spilling out.

“We created Toman to protect our friends, Mikey! But Pah is in jail! Kazutora is in Jail! Baji’s now dead! And (Y/N)–! She’s… She’s in a coma! Who knows when she will wake up! Or if she will wake up… What the hell is the point of creating this gang if we can't protect our family!!!”

Draken was beyond frustrated and terrified. Frustrated as within a year their friends are getting hurt or being sent away to jail. Frustrated that he couldn’t be there to protect his friends when things like this happened. He was also terrified that he was losing them so fast. Being plucked away like they were petals on a flower. The girls were done and were going to retrieve the boys for their turn. When they didn't see them in the waiting room, however, they searched around to come out to the parking lot after hearing Draken’s yelling. They only saw the aftermath but from the bruises on Mikey’s face, Takamichi’s tears, and Draken heaving, they pieced it together. Draken made way to where you were with Takamichi hot on his tail.

It was strange to see you like this. There you laid, on the hospital bed hooked onto a heart monitor and multiple IV drips. You looked so peaceful and serene where you slept, unaware of the chaos that will ensue soon. Maybe it was a good thing that you were like this, of what is to come in the showdown between Tenjuku and Toman. But reality was always uncertain, Takamichi knew this. Things may not go his plan but he’s damn sure that he will try his best.

Draken had a blank expression but his tears kept coming. He has known you as long as he has known Mikey. You and him were practically siblings, always butting heads but backing each other when the other needed help. He always looked out for you in ways you were unaware of because you always had the tendency to care for them before yourself. And now he has seen how your kind and loving heart can be seen as a weakness, people taking advantage of it because they knew you would fight for everyone before you could save yourself.

Draken kept staring while Takamichi knew he had to do it. It was up to him now to lead Toman against Tenjuku as both their commander and vice-commander are currently out of commission. Takamichi had talked with Hana and Emma before leaving. He now had a new motive to keep fight on as this battle wasn’t just for Toman:

This fight is for you too.

—————————————————————————

After rallying any of the remaining Toman members, Takamichi faces off against Tenjuku that night.

Fuck, it was hard.

Not only being outnumbered by many, but they were down their strongest members. With Mitsuya and Smiley injured and Mikey and Draken not showing up, it seemed like the fight was already decided. But with Takamichi leading, Toman still kept on fighting, being powered by his dauntless spirit. Angry unlocked his sleeping blue orge powers and knocked down three of Tenjuku’s executives with two of them being the Hataini Brothers. Yet they still had one challenge to face.

Izana Kurokawa, the leader of Tenjuku himself.

Like any last boss fight, he was strong. He knocked down all of Toman’s best members, and he seemed unstoppable. Takamichi was getting absolutely rocked by Kakucho. Blood sept out of his mouth and nose, he was hurting all over and knew he had some broken bones, but he didn’t care. Chifuyuu tried to convince him that Toman would never win this fight, they are outnumbered and too injured to carry on. But Takamichi didn’t care about that. His conviction shone brighter than ever that night. His determination, his tenacity, was unwavering when Kisaki aimed his gun point blank at Takamichi’s face. He knew if Toman loses tonight, Tenjuku and Kisaki would win. He would never give it to them no matter what because he was so close to fixing the timeline, he would be able to save everyone. He is not letting that chance slip through, not when he can do it right now.

In the face of Kisaki aiming straight at his forehead, Takamichi wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid of him, nor of Tenjuku, nor of anyone. He wasn’t afraid of you dying anymore because you wouldn’t die on him, die on your friends when they needed you.

That you wouldn’t die on Mikey because you knew he would be lost and devastated without you.

You may not be a leader or one of their strongest, but you were still a part of Toman for a reason. You were a fighter. Fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves, fighting to protect and save your friends, to keep on fighting with such conviction for your family, the Toman gang. Takamichi fully understands why you did what you did and it helped him be fearless against Tenjuku. Provoking and taunting Kisaki in every way he can, even with the gunshot wound to his foot. Takamichi smirked at Kisaki seeing him lose his composure and stood toe to toe with him. In that moment, Toman was fueled by his determination and ignited the spirit of Toman once more. Kisaki trying to save his pride looked down upon Toman for their stupid antics, thinking he’s still on top as the kingpin of everything. That only for Takamichi to give him a well-deserved punch right across his face.

Then Takamichi suddenly stood proudly with his fist up in the air, claiming that he would never give up. Everyone was confused until they followed Takamichi’s line of sight and saw Mikey. Not only that, Draken arrived too with Hina and Emma right behind him. Everyone was beyond shock, Toman for seeing their leaders and Tenjuku seeing Emma alive. They thought Kisaki killed Emma but they guessed wrong since she was standing with them alive and well. It was only then Kisaki realized his mistake, he got you instead of her. Now he knows why Toman is a pain in his side and won’t stay down.

Hina explained to Takamichi that she had to tell them about his time-leaping ability. His mission for a future where all of them lived. How she will die in twelve years time and Takamichi is doing everything he can to save her and everyone else. What she was saying sounded straight out of a movie but it was all true when his desperation and determination was right in front of them. That it was your choice to save Emma from an early death because you knew how much she meant to Draken and Mikey. You wanted to help Takamichi achieve a future where everyone is alive and okay because you loved them so much.

After Hina told them, Mikey snapped out of his hollow state and walked to where your room was. As the nurse was checking your vitals, she saw him walking towards your window and called him over. Since your condition stabilized, one guest is allowed to see you in your room. As the nurse opened the door for him, Mikey quietly strides to your bedside and stares at you. It may not be an appropriate time but Mikey always thought you looked so beautiful and enthralling no matter what was going on. He just stares a bit more before bending over and placing a small kiss on your forehead.

‘(Y/N), I have to go help Takamichi out. Please wait for me until I help them win. Hold on just a little longer for me.’

He squeezes your hand gently but reassuringly. It was mostly for him to know that you would make it out and wake up for them. As he leaves your room and goes back to Draken, he didn’t see the slight twitch your hand gave when he let go.

Now here he is, with Draken and Toman to aid them in their fight against Tenjuku. Mikey shouldn’t be here but he knew that you would have wanted him here to help Toman then staying with you. As Izana and Mikey battle it out, Takamichi could only watch as they were evenly matched. But as the fight kept going on, Izana started to falter and grew weaker. Mikey was beating him and Izana was slowly losing his mind because of it. In a moment of desperation, Izana snatched Kisaki’s gun and pointed it straight at him. Just like Takamichi, Mikey provoked Izana to shoot him only for Kakucho to smack the gun out of his hand. They argued until a shot was fired and Izana’s face splattered with a bit of blood.

Kisaki had shot Kakucho.

Kisaki was getting annoyed that his master plan was crumbling apart like a sand castle. If he couldn’t use Mikey then he would use Izana. In a fit of rage, Kakucho charges right at Kisaki. Kisaki shot again, this time hitting Izana. But when he tried pulling the trigger again, the gun was jammed and couldn’t fire another shot. Since the gun was useless, Kisaki fell to the ground from the adrenaline rush. The chaos continued to thrive as Tenjuku’s king and his servant laid on the ground, bleeding out. Mucho shouted for an ambulance as everyone remained stunned at what had happened. As the cops and ambulance were coming, everyone was pulling out except for Tenjuku’s executives. As Mikey stares deadly at Kisaki, he looks down at him with such disappointment and disgust for causing all of this… for putting in the hospital.

Before he and Takamichi could approach the bastard, Hanma grabbed Kisaki on his motorcycle and sped off. Takamichi hitches a ride with Draken while Mikey stays with the girls. After crashing, Kisaki was being chased by a determined Takamichi. After duking it out, Kisaki points his gun again at Takamichi. The manipulator was starting to cry out of frustration as Takamichi hit him on the money for why he kept killing Hina in the future. But as always, Takamichi had the upper hand and was able to get Kisaki’s gun and point right back at him. He was so tempted to shoot if it weren’t for Mikey and Hina.

Kisaki used this little distraction to get away but Takamichi was hot on his tail.

“My plan would have been perfect if it wasn't (Y/N) and her virtue signaling! She had what was coming to her instead of letting Emma take the hit! I could have had it all!”

He continues to spout nonsense until he stops in the middle of the crosswalk. He turned back at Takamichi and told him that he was leading him on this whole time; he wasn’t a time leaper.

As Takamichi revels in this new found information, Kisaki gives his shit-eating grin to him before getting slammed by a delivery truck. In a blink of an eye, Kisaki was fatally mangled as he was trying to get back up but his legs were twisted backwards and kneecaps out of place.

In a flash, Kisaki was dead and that was the end of the battle with Tenjuku. There was only one casualty and that was Kisaki Tetta.

—————————————————————————

It had been two days since you were placed into a coma. Takamichi and everyone came to visit you to see how you were doing. Though you weren’t in any danger, you had not shown any progress of consciousness. While it worried the others, Takamichi and Mikey never lost hope that they would wake up again and come back.

And they were right.

On the third day, Hina and Emma were going to visit you when they were told you were placed in a different room outside of the ICU. Quickly, they made their way to your new room where they found you wide awake. Sipping a capri-sun as you sat up on the bed, turning your head to smile at the teary eyed girls. Emma ran over to you and hugged you tightly, still trying to be careful of your injuries, while Hina grabbed her phone to tell Takamichi the news. Their tears were soon joyed by everyone else as they made their way to the hospital. As Mikey, Takamichi, and Draken practically spirited to your room. As they slid the door open, they were greeted by a crying Emma that was being comforted by you as Hina stands on the other side of your bed talking to you. You didn’t notice them until Mikey whispered out your name, turning your head to smile at them while still holding Emma.

Draken and Takamichi had tears in their eyes. For Draken, you survived and are up back again. For Takamichi, it means that he didn’t fuck it this time. That he was able to save you, Emma, Draken, and Izana from a bleak future. That he finally accomplished what he sought out to do in the very beginning. The closest timeline for Takamichi to give everyone a happy ending.

He finally did it.

As Hina ushered Emma, Draken, and Takamichi out of the room, it was now just you and Mikey. You can tell he was tired, probably losing sleep on wondering if your condition would get better. As you held out your arms to him, he made haste and hugged you tightly. It was Mikey’s turn to cry as he held you for the first time in three days. His face was buried in your head as his hand held it close to him while his other arm held your upper back. You were rubbing his back and hair softly so he could bask in the reality that you were okay.

“I was… so scared that I was going to lose you, (Y/N)... That you were going to end up like Shin-ni and Baji…”

“Oh Mikey…”

“ *holds you tighter* I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you… I was supposed to be there with you… I just… Couldn’t imagine my life if you were gone…”

You soften at how vulnerable Mikey was becoming. But you didn’t know the depth of seriousness he had for you until now.

“Well, I’m alive and awake, Mikey. I’m here with you, I’m going anywhere without.”

Mikey sighs, kissing your forehead before placing his on yours with his eyes closed.

“I’m serious about you, princess. I want to be with you forever, I want to have a future with you. A future for us… I need you, (Y/N)... I love you…”

“Oh, I love you too, Majiro-kun… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, you two sealed the promise with a gentle but loving kiss. You love Mikey and he loves you as well. As you pull away, you hug him again before asking him to let Takamichi talk to you. He goes to get him, not before placing a kiss on your cheek. Takamichi enters the room and you grin ear to ear seeing him as he is happy to see you awake.

“Come on, Takamitchy. You can relax for a bit! You saved everyone!”

“Yeah, but you gave me a heart attack, (Y/N)!! I get why you did what you did but it still doesn’t help that I was constantly thinking about how you were doing!”

“Oh, Takamitchy. I thought I told you to have faith in me! I’m not going down so easily like that! Trust!”

“(Y/N)...”

You drop the peppy and light act and shift towards a solemn one.

“So I heard Kisaki is dead…”

Takamichi nods to confirm your question.

“How did he die? Did you kill him, Takamitchy?”

“I… I actually didn’t…”

You straightened up your posture and stared at him in surprise.

“You didn’t?! Then how—”

“He was struck by a truck at a crosswalk. He died not too long after…”

“Hmmm, I see. At least you didn’t have to get your hands dirty, Takamitchy. I couldn’t imagine you going to jail for his death. I guess even God wanted him dead too so he decided to add some divine intervention into our mix and give us a boost.” You chuckled at the last part. It was a little humorous that Kisaki didn’t die at the hands of either Takamichi or Mikey. But rather, he died due to being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe God was tired of Kisaki’s shit and decided to help Takamichi out. Who knows?

But what matters is you’re alive, Takamichi is alive, everyone is alive. You were able to help him save everyone and now everyone can have a future to look forward to.

“I guess your work is done here then. So are you going back to the future after this visit?”

“Most likely…”

“I understand… Thank you for all your hard work, Takamichi… I appreciate all you have done and look forward to this new future that you have set…”

“Yeah… We’ll see (Y/N)...”

As you and Takamichi hug it out and high five each other, you tell him to bring the rest inside to join you two. Draken was salty that he didn’t get a personal moment like the rest did but you told him it will happen soon enough. After visiting you, Takamichi went back to the future that night. As he shook Naoto’s hand one last time, he firmly believed that he created a better future and timeline this time.

And he was more than correct.

In this timeline, he is getting married to Hina. Draken and Emma are married and already have a baby. You and Mikey already had your wedding and were planning your next decisions for your two’s future. As Takamichi saw how happy and bright Mikey was towards you, he knew he finally stopped the cycle. With everyone alive, he could be happy and rest with the fact that he achieved the future he wanted. Hina is alive, Draken is alive, Emma is alive, and you and Mikey are alive too. Though he wished he could save Baji and Shinichiro, this still was a good outcome from what happened.

Against all odds, Takamichi was able to accomplish his goal in saving Hina and his friends. Though it may not be perfect, it was enough that his sacrifices weren’t in vain as everyone was alive and happy. All thanks to your help and his efforts.

Now he can fully rest and live in this future as everything is going to be okay from now on.

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

(A/N: I probably edit this later this week because I still don't know how to make good endings for my fics, lol. Sorry again if this was too long to read!)

Thank you for reading!

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