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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month

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As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…

Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???

(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)

Tolerate it.

Summary: She is fed up.

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A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy

Enjoy!

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Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.

Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.

It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.

Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.

It made Y/n smile.

Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.

Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.

Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.

So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.

Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.

Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.

Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.

It definitely was not her, that was for sure.

Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.

Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.

She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.

It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.

With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.

Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.

But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.

Y/n blinked.

Or... could she?

Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.

Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.

Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.

Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.

Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.

Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.

Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.

When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.

Those days were far gone now.

•○🌑○•

Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.

And that was downplaying what she felt.

The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.

So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.

She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.

She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.

The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.

It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.

The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.

He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.

He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.

He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.

Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.

"Good morning love. Look-"

"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.

"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."

Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"

Azriel froze. "What?"

Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."

Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."

Doubtful.

Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.

He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.

She did not miss how he recoiled.

Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.

Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.

She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.

She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.

Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.

And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.

She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.

She deserved to be cherished.

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Part 2

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fic #acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #mating bond #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x you

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dantakeyoman · 1 year

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You Sing Neteyam His Mother’s Songcord In Order To Calm Him Down (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: fluffy angst, Neteyam is angry with his father, reader is such a good girlfriend ( you two are promised but haven’t mated yet ), kenten is the swirling gecko from the first movie, atokirina are the little floating seeds.

“Why must I always take responsibility for his actions?! I may be the older brother, but that does not mean I should be the one punished!” Neteyam vented, angrily skipping a rock across the bioluminescent water of the river.

“Have you tried telling your father this? Maybe he’ll listen,” you softly suggested, trying to give some sort of comfort to him.

You hadn’t seen Neteyam this mad in a long time.

He and Lo’ak were supposed to be lookouts for the most recent raid on the Sky people, but, like usual, Lo’ak rushed in without thinking and ended up getting them both grounded.

A lot of good that was doing seeing Neteyam sneaked out to meet you.

“Of course I have! But he never listens! He treats me and Lo’ak like soldiers. We are not family to him. For Eywa’s sake, I have to call him sir!” Neteyam exclaimed, roughly running a hand through his braids.

In a yell of frustration, he walks over to the tree you were resting against and punches it with all his might, leaving a fairly sized dent.

The vibrations shook you to your core, and was your wake up call to calm him down before he did something rash.

“Mawhey, Neteyam. Don’t let your anger crowd you reason,” you said with furrowed brows, your stern tone snapping him out of it.

No matter how mad, there was no reason to strike the tree.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down at the ground with balled fists.

You sighed, replacing your frown with a smile and holding out your hand to him.

“Come,” you beckoned, any trace of scolding now gone.

He huffed, begrudgingly taking your hand, letting out an oof when you roughly yanked him down to the ground, placing his head in your lap.

“(y/n), what are you doin-?” “Hush,” you shushed, placing a finger to his lips.

He kept quiet, and you moved a stray braid out his face, fixing your shoulders against the tree so you were comfy.

“Lie si oe Neteyamur. Nawma sa’nokur, mìfa oeyä,” you sang, running your fingers through his hair so softly, it made Neteyam almost loathe the way he did it earlier.

He looked up at you awestruck, surprised and confused as to how you knew the song his mother sang to him throughout his childhood, the memories that came flooding back washing away all the anger he held before.

“Atanti ngal molunge, mìpa tìreyti, mìpa tìkanti,” you continued, turning towards the beautiful river that stood next to you.

It was all so tranquil. Your voice, the flowing water, the head massage.

He was soon forgetting why he was so angry in the first place.

“Lawnol a mì te’lan. Lawnol a mì te’lan,” you both looked up to see a kenten jump off from higher branch, it’s frills unfurling as it calmly floated down to the ground.

“Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, tonìri tìreyä. Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, Srrìri tìreyä.”

Neteyam could feel his head nodding, his eyelids becoming impossibly heavy.

And looking at you...you were ethereal. Smiling and glowing, beaming down like rays of pure sunlight.

All for him.

And that’s when he saw a flurry of atokirina descending from above.

You noticed his change in expression and looked up as well, only to see the seeds circling the both of you, hanging in the air like stars right before your eyes.

“Ma Eywa, Ma Eywa,” you finished, a soft smile gracing your lips as an atokirina landed in the palm of your hand.

And after letting it rest for a moment, you held it up and allowed it to float away, the others following suit.

Probably on their way to grace another.

“You see, Neteyam? This is a sign from Eywa. You father means no harm. He loves and cares for you deeply, and only wants what’s best for you,” you smiled, placing a feather-light kiss between his eyes.

But Neteyam didn’t see it that way.

He saw it as a sign from Eywa saying that no matter how bad things got, angry, frustrating, or scary, you would be there. You would be his escape, his safety, his peace.

He had no responsibilities with you ( except protecting you, of course ). When alone, it was just you and him.

And all he had to do was lay down, rest, and listen contently as you sang.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow #omitacaya

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sfehvn · 6 months

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new religion

Description: AU- Astarion is enamored by you, and while he fights it at first, he may have just found his new religion. A/N: Just a tad bit of sweet smut to be honest. This was my listen while I wrote if you were curious. Enjoy! xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,069 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

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From the moment Astarion had seen you, he knew he had to have you. Walking through the animated city of Baldur’s Gate, your radiant smile was the first thing that had caught his eye. Flowing hair kissed your shoulders adorned with freshly plucked daisies. Your aroma was the most intoxicating scent that had graced his nose in all of his years. Your rose-tinted cheeks teased with the blood flowing beneath your flawless skin. Your eyes sparkled with wonder, reflecting the rays of the sun above. He had never been a believer in the love at first sight nonsense, yet there you were. If his undead heart could beat, he was sure it would be skipping against his ribcage. It was the only time the vampire had found himself utterly speechless.

For months, he watched from afar, finding excuses to go into town. Not that he had to excuse anything to anyone, but the newfound feelings were frightening, to say the least. Alas, day after day Astarion went out, whether for a drink or an unnecessary shop trip, and he would wait to get even the slightest glimpse at you. He was aware that this obsession was snowballing out of his hands as he fell harder and deeper. Hells, he had never even spoken to you. Yet he knew nearly everything there was to know.

He knew every other day you made your way to the apothecary to pick up medicines for your sick father, whom you cared for. He knew once every fifth day, you picnicked in the graveyard next to your mother’s grave. He knew your favorite color was yellow because it reminded you of the summers you spent with your mother before her untimely passing. You had six siblings: an older brother and five young sisters.

Astarion had also realized that you had a death wish, apparently. You were constantly staying out past sundown, running errands or helping neighbors. Did you even comprehend the dangers? He would often think to himself. Of course he had to follow you home to ensure you made it inside safely. You were becoming a liability to him, and quite frankly, he was terrified of how you made him feel. Just when he had decided to end this one-sided arrangement, there you were. Sat on the side of the road with tears pooling rivers down your cheeks, his body felt out of his control as he approached you.

He stood in front of you, his words caught in his throat. You stared at him with those big doe-eyes, and his knees felt like jelly. “Are you alright?” He finally managed out. Gods, what am I doing? I should just sink my fangs into her and be done with it. It’s just bloodlust. This was something he had tried to convince himself of many times already- a lie.

“Oh, yes.” Voice sweet and smooth, like the finest honey gold could buy. “Just this silly book.” You giggled, holding up the novel you had previously been engrossed in before Astarion had found you.

“Right. Good.” He clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure and still his spinning mind. “I’ll just be on my way then.” You nod, gifting that sweet smile to him. Astarion felt his legs would give out beneath him if he stayed longer, but he didn’t move an inch.

The man intrigued you, ruby red eyes and skin pale as the snow that fell during winter. He was gorgeous. An aura of mystery surrounded him, and you were keen to discover those mysteries. “Say, you live in that big fancy manor?” You question, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen you two.

“I do. Why?” Skepticism was palpable in his tone.

You disregarded his tone, and he believed it to be your naive nature. “You have the most exquisite daffodils blooming alongside your walls. I didn’t want to pick them without asking.” Your smile is sheepish, innocent. Astarion doesn’t speak, his face unreadable. “I-I enjoy putting bouquets together. I don’t mean to-” He already knew this, obviously.

“They are yours.” Astarion can’t contain the smile that tugs the sides of his lips.

As you two stroll to the location of said flowers, Astarion finds himself loosening up in your presence. He watches you intently, the way you move your hair from your face as you carefully pluck a few from the group. He urges you to take more.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother. These are plenty.” You assure. In response, he crouches down next to you to help pluck the remaining flowers.

After walking you home, Astarion ordered flowers to be planted around the grounds. With the help of just a little magic, within weeks, roses, peonies, sunflowers, and carnations bloomed healthily. You would come with a fresh serving of food, a bouquet as thanks, and collect the flowers. As naive as you were, you could recognize what Astarion was doing. The daffodils were a one-off in that area, but now flowers surrounded the entirety of his property. The rate at which they grew, too; you were aware some effort went into getting them to blossom so hastily. At every mention of a new flower, the next time you came, they were miraculously in bloom.

This compromise had been in full swing for months when you finally questioned him about it. Astarion was on his knees as he snipped red roses from the bush, insistent on doing it himself so you didn’t prick yourself on a thorn. “Why are you doing this?” You question, a wicker basket that was already overflowing held firmly in your hands.

“I told you, you’ve nabbed yourself on these blasted thorns one too many times.” His reply came without a look in your direction as he continued to snip the stems.

“That’s not what I meant.” A soft chuckle emanates from behind closed lips. He looks up at you in realization, his hands coming to a halt. Your breath catches in your throat as he stares at you wordlessly, longingly. Standing slowly, he takes a step closer to you. He drops the roses into your basket before cupping your cheeks, closing the distance between your faces. The kiss is electric. You drop the basket to your feet, arms snaking around his neck while he presses your body tightly to his, clinging to you like a prayer. His lips were a colder temperature than you expected, but they were soft and hungry.

That’s how Astarion ended up with you in his bed. As he eagerly ripped the pale blue dress from your body, you took note of the bouquets around his bed chamber. Every single one you had gifted to him was on display and in perfect condition. Your heart flits in your chest, eyes closing in ecstasy as wet kisses trail up the inside of your thighs. A soft moan is elicited from you as his mouth reaches your warmth, his tongue flicking teasingly along your slit. Your fingers thread into his stark white hair, instinctually tugging with every contact against your clit. Colors explode behind your eyelids from the euphoric excitement.

He pulled away briefly, with his starving mouth against your thigh, he spoke muffled words, “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve been waiting to hear that, darling.” Your breathing quickens as you look down at him between your thighs with hooded, lustful eyes. His mouth returns to your clit and he suckles lightly, two fingers dipping into your dripping center. The sensation brings your back into an arch, aching to feel him deeper inside of you.

The swirling motion of his tongue brings you close to the edge, your legs shaking mercilessly. Astarion’s free hand moves between his torso and your legs, holding them steady as he continues his work on your body. Just as you are about to cum, he places a final kiss on your mound before his eyes meet yours. “You’re much naughtier than I thought.” He tsked, crooning his neck at you before moving up your body.

Your lips meet passionately, his tongue slipping effortlessly into your mouth to meet your own. He creates a gap between you as one hand holds him up, quickly removing his trousers and undergarments with his other hand. He pressed his bulge down onto your warmth, hitting your sweet spot as he grinds against you. “Do you taste how lovely you are?” He murmurs, plunging his tongue further into your mouth. You can only let out a delighted moan in response.

Once he breaks the kiss, you press your slippery core harder against his erection. “Please fuck me.” You whimper lustfully, “Please-” Your words are cut short by the sensation of him rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, causing a delicate moan to leave your throat.

“Fuck. You’re soaked, my darling.” He coos. As much as Astarion wanted to continue to play with your body, he needed to be buried in you as quickly as he possibly could. He slides the head of his member from your clit, pushing slowly into your welcoming embrace. He savors every sensation as he enters you. There is a momentary flicker of pain on your face as you adjust to his size, and he falters for a moment.

“Have you done this before?” He asks quietly, pressing his forehead to yours, avoiding your throat to save himself from temptation. He cursed himself inwardly for even asking; he shouldn’t care. This woman brought a side out of him he had never met before- a softer side. The scariest part is he actually, well, liked it.

You wavered for a second before shaking your head, confirming that he was indeed the first man to have ever been in such a position with you. The thought makes him feel feral. Such a sweet flower trusting someone like him to take your virtue; he would never admit it to anyone, but honor and pride swelled in his chest. He nodded in acknowledgment, “We’ll go slow, pet.” He reassures, hips rocking delicately into yours as he fills you with as much of him as he can manage without causing you discomfort. He lays a gentle kiss on your forehead as your pain turns into pleasure, still-shaking legs wrapping to engulf his hips.

“A-Astarion.” His name sounded like a hymn gracing his ears from your mouth, and he wanted to devour you right there and then. It took everything in him not to plow you into the bed. His hand rests on the bedframe as he finds a comfortable rhythm, eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to soak up every reaction to his touch.

“You drive me crazy, pet.” He grunts as his pace quickens, gripping the mahogany wood tighter at the magnetic pleasure buzzing through his body. He uses his free hand to effortlessly move you further up into a slightly seated position as his thumb once again finds your clit to draw purposeful eights over it.

“I-I’m- Oh my gods-” The moan is loud, music to his ears as your walls tighten around his cock.

“That’s right. Be a good girl and cum for me.” It’s a stern demand, all to mask just how close Astarion was himself. His words push you over the edge, your body clinging to his for support as the euphoria rushes over you. Every hair on your body standing on end, you throw your head back and scream Astarion’s name thrillfully.

With you coming undone, he allows himself to reach fruition, his seed filling you to the brim. His hand on the frame loosens, and his head hangs, face full of gratification. He looks down at you, pulling his now-soft member from you, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you stretch contently, much like a cat. Your eyes were droopy, a giddy smirk on your face as you fought to keep them open. Astarion chuckles, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You can sleep, my darling. I’ll wake you in a little.”

Astarion swore he felt the tiniest tinge of warmth in his heart at the sight of you so comfortable cuddled into his side as you dozed off. This could be a welcome change. Maybe his undead life just needed his very own light, his own sun. All he knew was that he was done fighting it. One weakness couldn’t hurt.

#ascended!astarion x tav #astarion x tav #ascended!astarion x reader #astarion x reader #soft!ascended!astarion #ascended astarion #astarion #smut #x reader #tav #reader #bg3

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 24 days

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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter Pre-27] || [Chapter 28]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K cw: none Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment + us clowning on all the lads bc ofc

Chapter 27: Peace and Quiet.

When you asked John to take you away, him taking you on a whole boat was not what you had in mind.

Granted, he did take you to his home in Credenhill beforehand; a cosy two-bedroom row home, which was surprisingly well-furnished for a single man in his 40s.

After having dinner on Friday night with him (John is a surprisingly good cook!) and cuddling together on the sofa before ending the night in bed, late on Saturday morning he awoke you with brunch in bed.

You half expected a lazy Saturday... only for him to tell you that you were going on an adventure.

So you ended up down south, on river Severn, on a boat. No, not a goddamn rickety fishing boat; a bloody yacht. A small one, but one nonetheless.

That didn't stop him from wearing a fishing hat. Come to think of it, you very rarely see John without a hat, only indoors. But last night when he went to get you, he was wearing a toque... He wears those a lot.

Apparently, John is an avid fan of boating. And bought one a few years back.

"Was this just an attempt at showing off?" You teased him as you stood by his side, one of his arms wrapped around your hip as the boat cruised out to the mouth of the river.

"No, da'lin', would never dream of it." John replied with a cheeky grin.

"I feel like you're lying to me." You replied as you leaned against him, eyes locked on the beautiful view of the cityscapes as you sailed out to the sea.

"Not lying, just... embellishing the truth." He joked and nuzzled up to you, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as he pulled you to sit on his lap at the command of the boat.

"Right..." You said sarcastically, feigning annoyance, before melting at the feel of his kisses, his nose nuzzling into your hair, his beard tickling your nape.

"Plus, maybe, perhaps, I was worried the lads were going to try and crash out little getaway..." He whispered as he kept dropping little kisses onto you. "Yeah?" You asked as you looked up and back at him.

"They know where I live... Simon does, at least. And I doubt he'd show up, but... he likes you a whole lot." John murmured and then started peppering kisses to your neck.

Shivering a bit, you chuckled. "And you don't share, do you?" You joked.

"Oh, I share. But you asked me to take you away, not to bring 'em with." He quipped with a smirk on his lips.

"Haven't seen you share yet, so my point still stands." You retorted as you narrowed your eyes playfully at him.

"Oh, is that how it is? You're a 'need to see it to believe it', type of person?" He joked and rubbed his lips against the shell of your ear.

"Mhm..." You replied as your eyes closed, leaning back into him, feeling his displays of affection.

Your hands found his extended forearms as his hands controlled the boat on either side of you. You caressed his strong, hairy forearms, a weak attempt at returning the affection.

"How about you go sit out there... Feel the sea air, the water splashing on you..." He offered. "Lay out in the sun, get a bit of a tan?"

"John, we're off the coast in Wales. There's not going to be a tan." You told him playfully.

"Humour me, will you?" He asked you and shook his head, amused.

Nodding, you got up off his lap, kissing him on the lips one last time before you slipped into the cabin to get changed into a swimsuit and then back out.

You sat outside, where John could see you from the cockpit, and took his advice to heart, lounging on the foam chairs at the bow, enjoying the cool water splashing and the sun in the horizon. It was actually enjoyable.

You sneaked a glance at John as he drove the boat, smiling at him, before you decided to put on some sunscreen, just in case. John watched you closely and made a point of showing you how much he enjoyed the sight of you putting it on. At one point he even wolf whistled at you.

After a while, John slowed the boat down and moored it. You didn't think much of it, though the area you were in was beautiful. Nothing but the two of you for miles, the ocean rocking the boat nicely and the sun shining ahead.

John comes to join you, in his own swimming trunks, pulling you close, and peppering kisses all over your back, shoulders, nape... You find yourself giggling. There was something about John... Perhaps the fact he was older, but his attention felt so... nice.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked. "Some good ol' peace and quiet?"

"Mhm..." You replied as you rolled over to face him. Then, you burst out laughing.

How were you supposed to not? The man had haphazardly lathered himself in sunscreen and was still wearing the bloody fishing hat!

"John, I can't-" You joked.

"What?" He asked in confusion, eyebrows raised.

"You look like a dad on vacation!" You joked and resumed your fit of giggles.

"You calling me old?" He asked in an exaggerated tone.

"No!" You said as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, running your hands over his face to spread the sunscreen more evenly. "You just..." You trailed off.

"I'll have ya know I'm still in my prime." He murmured, his thick beard covering his mouth with each word he spoke.

"You're also a dork." You retorted, feeling his hands slide up your thighs as he pulled you onto his lap.

"Oh? Would a dork have a pretty thing like you in a swimsuit in his arms while on his own boat?" He retorted before leaning close and peppering a kiss on your lips.

"I guess not." You replied playfully. "But the hat certainly doesn't help." You added and slipped it off his head. "See? So much better..."

"I happen to like my boonie hat." He told you as he kept peppering kisses on your face. "I wear it all the time when I'm in the field."

"No way?" You asked dramatically. "You mean you wear this when you're out there with your rifles and what not?" You asked as you lifted the hat off the seat next to you.

"Yes?" He told you, causing you to break into laughter again. "What? It's not that bad, is it?" He asked, feigning insecurity.

"No, it's just-" You trailed off. "First, Simon with his skull mask, then you with your boonie hat... What's next?" You asked.

"Kyle wears a baseball cap with the British flag more often than not." John replied, causing you to shriek with laughter.

"NO?!" You replied, incredulously. "No way?! He dresses so nicely out of uniform, you're telling me he also does the 'one hat' thing?"

"Absolutely he does. Have to ask him to take it off sometimes. It's like it's glued to 'im." He joked as his hands caress your body lovingly.

"What about Johnny?" You asked with narrowed eyes.

"Doesn't wear anything. Just that stupid bloody mohawk." He replied.

"Is it because of his big head?" You joked, which caused you both to break into laughter this time.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

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#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader

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fleursbending · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : "You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." Sully! Reader to Sully! Parents? Just a fluffy family fic please

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : becoming one with the metkayina's has not been an easy task. as everyone continues to settle in their own ways, your family begins to grow more worried about your well-being. this isn't the sully they know. you're withdrawn, and quiet. what better way to fix that than to seek you out when you least expect it?

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi if you're confused so am i! there were issues when i first posted this so i am reposting it again. thank you for the love on the previous one though! // trust me this is fluffy 😭 just have to go through a lil angst to get to that part <33 this is purely a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic! didn't fully proofread this btw! pls feel free to reblog and leave your thoughts in the comments.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying, discrimination, angst but fluff at the end, descriptions of loneliness, hurt/comfort, you're gonna wish even more that u were a sully after reading this.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hiiiiii my luvs you can read part 2: here !🙏🏼

The ocean was not your friend, you could only look at the endless channel of water in disdain. This was far too daunting for you, you liked the little rivers or ponds back at home. The sealife while beautiful, petrified you.

You missed the lush greens and the smell of the dew from the occasional rain back in the jungle. It was easy to forget your responsibilities, not that you had as many as your other siblings. Being the second youngest Sully had its perks. Not older than Lo'ak, and not younger than Tuk.

The "expeditions" you went on now made you look like a fool. You didn't know the terrain here, how to navigate fluidly through the water like Tsireya, Ao'nung, or Roxto.

Each passing day your siblings got better at managing to hold their breath, and riding their Ilu's. But you were still stuck in the past.

It felt reality kept kicking you in the face. Your stubborn self was annoyed as well. Holding a grudge against your family. It seemed like no one missed home. You understood why your parents made the decision they did, but it didn't make the act of doing so hurt any less.

At least you had these quiet moments before your thoughts ran rampant to practice your breathing.

You were suddenly interrupted from your twisting thoughts when a nudge was directed at your head.

It was Ao'nung and his crew.

"Leave me alone." You hissed at them, not wanting to deal with their bullshit today.

"Leave me alone." Ao'nung mocked you as he tugged on your tail.

You quickly stood up, looking to see if any of your family were close by. They weren't. You were supposed to be back in the Mauri but once again, you lost track of time.

"No one is here to help you, Y/n."

They grabbed your hand, poking insults at you and your family. You knew better than to talk back, especially if no one was here to help you out. It was 4 against 1. So instead you bit your lip and kept your mouth shut.

"Roxto, are you there?" His mother called from around the corner, startling the goonies.

"You're in luck, scram!" Ao'nung hissed at you.

Eyes widening, you stumbled as you rushed back to your Mauri. You didn't dare look back at your tormentors.

Once you were a few steps away, you slowed your pace. Catching your breath, before making your way inside.

The worried chatter of your family halted when you made your presence.

Neytiri stopped pacing, moving over to you and grabbing your face in her hands.

"Ewya help me before I lose it. Where have you been? You're 15 minutes late! I was about to send your brothers out to look for you."

Had it really been that long?

"I'm sorry." You looked down in shame. It's weird being on the brunt end of the stick. Even your parents have grown more accustomed to having to tell you off rather than Lo'ak. It was definitely odd.

"You didn't answer your mother's question, where have you been?" Jake didn't like being stern with you, but you being late to dinner had been happening more regularly.

You used to be a stickler for these dinners, being the one to push for them. How everyone had to be in attendance, and on time. It was family bonding time, moments to catch up on what everyone had done that day.

"Just around, I was with my Ilu - I'm sorry." You looked down to the Mauri's floor, unable to meet your father's eyes. It was hard lying to him.

Neteyams eyebrows arched in confusion, he had just been with his Ilu. You were nowhere in sight. He decided to let it slide this time, but he couldn't help but wonder where you snuck off too.

"Alright well, you really got to keep track of time yeah. You used to love these dinners!"

"Yes, and I still do!" You answered too quickly, not missing a beat.

If Jake wasn't suspicious before, he certainly was now. But like Neteyam, he decided to let it slide. Your brothers had told him and Neytiri how you've been struggling to catch up and learn everything in the lessons.

That was partially it, but if only he was aware of the bigger picture.

Jake nodded, looking to Neytiri. She also held a look of concern, but Jake made a silent signal that basically stated:

"We shouldn't push it, not now."

"Well, let's eat before the food gets even colder." Neytiri ushered her kids over, keeping a close eye on you.

Your family gathers around the food that was already set, and start eating. As all your siblings chatted excitedly about the activities they've done throughout the day. You didn't say a thing, not even piping in.

Neytiri and Jake once again met gazes, thinking the same thing.

Something's wrong with our daughter.

Soon dinner was over and it was time to rest, as your family rested together you couldn't help yourself as you removed Tuk's arm that clung to your shoulder.

Maneuvering your way outside, you jumped into the water. Why sleep when you can practice again?

Before Eclipse ended you made sure to squeeze the excess water out of your hair and made yourself comfortable alongside your family. Your body ached and could no longer fight off your sleep deprivation. But it was worth it, you could hold your breath a lot longer now under water.

From then on, it gradually got worse. Even your siblings would struggle to find you throughout the day. You'd take longer naps through the day, and Lo'ak knew you were sneaking out at night. Your essence seemed to further rid itself from you, and all that was left was a hollow shell of yourself.

They too, shared similar thoughts with their parents. No longer could they see you dwindle away. It didn't sit right with them, you're a Sully through and through. Sully's stick together.

So they did what they know best and was most accessible to them, track.

Instead this time they weren't on a hunt, or looking for what was to be a good meal for their clan. They were following the steps of their baby sister.

If you stepped out of your brain for a moment, you would have immediately clocked them. But once again, Y/n was shut in her own bubble.

"Bro, don't you find it weird that she hasn't realised we are here?" Lo'ak whispered as he looked at you behind the leaves keeping them hidden.

"Shut up, Lo'ak" Neteyam grumbled. He didn't want to agree even if his words held some truth.

"Hey, I have to agree with him. We shouldn't have been able to get this far. She's usually far too hyperaware of her surroundings." Kiri observed you, stunned and clueless.

They'd never been to this part of Awa'atlu before. They'd been so fixated on the ocean. They had yet to really explore the area that surrounded their new home. It oddly felt like they were waltzing through their past.

At last, you came upon your tree. You liked it because it had a specific branch that you could curve into. Blend in, and be one with your surroundings. Like you had used to do before in the jungle. This was now your next best option.

Your siblings looked in confusion at one another, not understanding how this could be the reason you've been periodically gone. Did you spend all your time here?

But then it came.

It was barely there, and you were struggling to catch your breath. The cries.

It strikes through the serene sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and the nearby insects chirping.

Your sibling's ears flattened as they looked at each other in sheer worry. You were a spitfire, but you had always been calm and collected. The physical embodiment of the word warm. Happiness was always with you. So where did it all go wrong?

"Great mother, I fear that I am not good enough. I thought consistency was key, I've been trying to practice anytime I can. But I'm so tired. I've never felt this weak and useless?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up into the sky.

Groaning in frustration, you continued. "Maybe Ao'nung was right. I will never be one of the people. I will always be too alien. I will never be able to live up to my family."

Lo'ak enraged by the doubts you had voiced stepped out from their cover.

Your ears tuned into the noise, you finally tuned into your senses and became more alert. As you hopped off the branch, hastily wiping your tears.

"Brother." You choked out, lips trembling.

He took slow steps towards you, trying to soothe you as he brought you into a hug.

"Baby sister," he said so quietly, solemnly.

You couldn't remember the last time he hugged you, and neither he could he. It wore his heart down, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Soon the presence of more arms wrapped around you both, clinging onto you - securing you in their grasps. For the first time in a long time, tenderness surged through you.

"We've got you, Y/n. You're going to be alright. Let it all out now." Neteyam who was at your right side gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, muttering to himself - "Oh my baby sister."

Kiri had never felt such pain from you, it came off in waves. And it almost debilitated her. In that moment, it was the most protective she had felt for you. It synced through all of them, a fire had awaken in the pit of their souls - so fierce that even Toruk Makto would flinch from it.

Slowly your breaths began to ease, and your tense shoulders slumped down. It was emotionally taxing having had all these emotions balled up inside you. Now it was unraveling, and it felt all too bittersweet.

Your siblings sensing this, mellowed out on their group hug they were giving you. Moving over, you all settled down against the tree you've been confiding in moments before.

Tuk grabbed your hand while Kiri tucked your intricate braids behind your ears. You mouthed a "thank you", leaning your head on her shoulder.

All it took was Neteyam to ask a very simple question, "What's been going on, baby sister?"

And once your mouth opened, you decided - why not just let them in on everything? So you did.

You told them about how ashamed and humiliated you had felt when you started lagging behind. How Ao'nung and his friends would tease you whenever they had the chance to do. (It was always away from prying eyes). Due to that, it only made the feelings of hatred you harbored for yourself - increase a tenth-fold.

A deliberately belligerent cycle was born. Self-doubt equated to "I will push myself to the brink of exhaustion". You'd seek out your family thinking they'd have noticed. But they were too caught up in their own commitments to realise your intentions.

All you wanted was for any of them to see the hard work you had been pouring in to adapting here. But how could they when you always lingered on the outskirts?

Late to dinner, late to the lessons, never seen. They couldn't appreciate what was in front of them because they hadn't witnessed it themselves. How utterly ironic.

"I see why you didn't, but I wish you had told us, Y/n. We could have helped you." Kiri insisted as she patted your head.

"I know." You grumbled, but you were grateful for how attentive they are to you.

"Ao'nung will pay." Lo'ak seethed, completely shifting the topic of conversation.

Neteyam rolled his eyes and interjected. "He will, but not in the way you are seeing it in your mind right now. We have to go to dad and mum about this."

Your irritated eyes widened, leaping up from where your back had laid against the tree. Y/n scowled at Neteyam, her tail flicking in anguish. No, not her parents.

"Absolutely not, 'Teyam. They mustn't know anything of this." You countered him, disbelief flooding your features. Your parents would only perceive you as a failure, and that was the last thing you could stomach right now.

Neteyam stood up by you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He shook his head at you and gave you one of his brotherly grins.

"Baby sister, they are just as worried as we are." He looked behind you, and urged you to turn around.

Oh great mother, that could only mean one thing.

Ember crashed on ember, one filled with panic, and two filled with distraught. The tension was taut, but all your parents wanted to do was cradle you in their arms like they had in your first few months of life.

"Kids, back to the Mauri." Jake ordered them, pointing back to where it was.

"But dad-" Lo'ak butted in, worriedly looking at you.

"It's okay. Thank you, Lo'ak." You coaxed him to join your siblings who were also hesitating a little.

They disappeared amongst nature, and their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Until all that was left was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It felt oddly comforting being in their company even though doubt was eating you up from the inside.

It's been a while.

Neytiri was the first to approach you, her hands shook as she cradled your face. She took you in for the first time in weeks, and this time she was able to do it properly. Lately, she'd only been able to admire you whilst you sleep, or during meals.

In the morning you'd be gone in a blink of an eye. Throwing a haphazard, "I'll see you later", over your shoulder.

She missed you profoundly, so much that it physically pained her sometimes. Neytiri treasured you deeply, to put it bluntly - her heart felt like it'd been slashed by a Thanotor ever since you started pushing yourself away.

Jake followed in his mate's footsteps. His eye's tearing into your soul and trying to catch if there had been any distinct changes that have occurred to you.

"You don't look like yourself." Jake stumbled on his words.

Neytiri hissed, smacking your dad on the back of his head. A slight giggle escaped you that made both of their hearts sing. "Ma jake."

"Sorry." He mumbled, giving you a cheeky grin.

Y/n's doubts were already melting away before she herself could even acknowledge it. She grabbed both her parent's hands, leading them over to her tree not too far away from where they had been standing.

Mimicking how she and her siblings were just before. She settled against the tree again, bringing her parents down with her.

The trio admired their surroundings, taking in the wonders of Pandora. Especially Jake, and Neytiri. This is the closest they've felt to something akin to the jungle they'd once inhabited.

"I'm sure you heard everything, and it is true. I am sorry if I've disappointed you guys. I thought I could manage it all on my own."

Neytiri played with your hair and could only chastise your words. "You did not disappoint us, if anything - you infuriated us. We were just worried about you, our dear daughter."

Jake nodded in agreement. "We love you, and we want to be there for you. We will if you allow us. That's what we are here for. You don't need to fight these battles alone. Remember what I told you, baby girl?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed your dad away from you jokingly.

"It's us against the world." You mumbled.

Jake teasingly put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."

Neytiri let out a soft laugh at you two's antics, watching with endearment sparkling in her eyes.

Clearing your throat, you reiterated your words. "It's us against the world."

Jake did extravagant hand motions, "More enthusiasm please!"

You were beaming, yelling out, "It's us against the world!"

"That's right baby, it is." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you to his side. Neytiri instinctively leaned against you both.

Y/n couldn't help but admire her parents. They were her foundation, her protectors. She couldn't believe that she used to be ashamed of being a Sully. It was her legacy, one she is only beginning to pave. She wasn't about to let Na'vi who didn't truly know her, dictate her life any longer.

"You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." You started, staring at your parents.

"I just - I couldn't catch up. There are so many other bigger things to worry about, and I thought.. I don't know. That I'd overcome this. I tried to love the ocean and the people. But I miss home. I miss everything that was green, now it's just all blue! That's actually why I like this place so much." You rambled, arms waving erratically. It felt gratifying to get it off your chest, especially to the two people you have wanted to tell from the get-go.

Your parents nodded, taking all your words in. But they were still conflicted. Their daughter had a competitive nature like no other, every time the world pushed her down - she always got back up. If you were lagging behind so much, you would have just pushed yourself more. Work extra hard, and seek help from your family.

But you haven't done any of that this time. All the means necessary she could have used as a stepping stone were left out of this equation. Instead, you had suffered in silence.

"You know, Y/n. It's not your fault for feeling like you don't belong. But you are one of us. You are Sully, you are the embodiment of strong heart. It does not matter what others say to you when no one else is there. It does not matter that you have 5 fingers." Neytiri protested, sighing.

She made sure you were looking at her, hearing her.

"What matters is how you control how it affects you. You are still growing, baby. This is a lesson you will remember for a lifetime and the next." Neytiri advised you, squeezing your hand.

"Your mother is right. At the end of the day, the power is in your hands. So use it, sweetheart. Follow your heart, and let us know next time if it gets a little too much. Alright?" Jake expanded on what Neytiri had told you.

You looked down at their hands holding yours. Yeah, Sully's really do stick together. And you wouldn't trade that for anything else in this world and all the other's orbiting you.

"Alright." Y/n restated, tugging both of her parents up with her. They stared at their child with confusion.

"Let's go back home." This time what you threw over your shoulder to them was a sweet smile, dimples and all.

Neytiri and Jake spoke with only their eyes as they let Y/n guide them back to their Mauri.

Our daughter is going to be just fine.

࿐ ࿔*:��ﾟ˳೫˚

bonus:

Y/n's laughter could be heard inside the Mauri as she played in the water with Tuk just in front of their home.

Jake turned to Lo'ak and Neteyam who were doing some chores.

He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'll turn a blind eye if you decide to give Ao'nung a beating or two. Just for today." Jake mentioned, before going back to cleaning his gun.

Lo'ak had a devious grin, rubbing his knuckles together, "Yes Sir."

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

#junie's library 📚✧.*#atwow #neteyam sully x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #atwow spoilers #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar 2 #sully family x reader #sully family #kiri x reader #lo'ak x reader #avatar imagine #neytiri x reader #jake sully x reader

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forfunandfandom · 7 days

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This moment was beautiful. I knew what they were going to do as soon as the water turned to poison.

Viet Nam was colonized on-and-off by China for around 1,000 years. During that time, the story of Hai Bà Trưng was one of the few stories of heroism that survived to the modern time. At the end of their rebellion, they committed suicide by jumping into a river rather than be captured (Chinese records said they were captured and beheaded, but I chose to believe the Viet records).

While the story of this event wasn’t perfect, I appreciate a story revolving around Viet heroes.

What’s more, the story turns their deaths into an heroic act. As opposed to two desperate women committing suicide, this time, they sacrificed themselves to save countless people.

It’s an ongoing theme in FGO that being summoned gives heroes a chance to be more than their legends. Hai Bà Trưng’s legend is ultimately a tragedy. Thăc said it herself that she doesn’t feel like a hero because they ultimately failed to make a lasting change. Viet Nam continued to be colonized long after their deaths.

Even so, their rebellion gave the Viet people a sense of pride that we did stand up against our oppressors. To this day, there are streets, schools, hospitals, etc. named after Hai Bà Thưng.

The event story calls them “new” gods, but they died in 42 AD so their legend is around as old as Jesus. They are very old heroes, though not as old as Dagon, which is the point. Hai Bà Thưng stood in the middle between the far ancient past (Gilgamesh’s era) and the modern era (Tesla’s era and after). They are old enough to feel disconnected from what modern Viet Nam is now, which is why Thǎc feels like she didn’t have much effect on history, yet they are not so old that they feel forgotten and twisted. There’s a big street in Saigon named after them, so they are very much still remembered, unlike Dagon who feels bitter at being forgotten.

I had my doubts when this event seems to start out as a comedy, but I like how it pulled together, leading to that beautiful scene pictured above.

#fate grand order #hai bà trưng #trung sisters

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velaryon-seahores · 8 months

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Eclipsed Love Part II.

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Fem!reader ( Modern au )

synopsis : You and Aemond shared a romantic bond during your high school years. However, your relationship took a turn when an unexpected pregnancy altered the dynamics. Aemond, driven by aspirations of pursuing a career in medicine, struggled to reconcile his dreams with the newfound responsibilities. Meanwhile, the financial constraints and fear of revealing the situation to your strict parents left you without options, making abortion unattainable. When Aemond chose to end the relationship, you made the difficult decision to vanish, seeking a fresh start. Years later, your son fell seriously ill, necessitating medical attention. The twist in the tale was that the doctor who held the key to your son's recovery happened to be none other than his biological father, Aemond.

Warning: angst, hurt/comfort. Literally that’s it.

Word count : 3.9k

A/n : comments likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!❤️

This chapter was superrrrrrrrr long I had to split it into two, this might be a boring chapter because Unfortunately I had to cut out the important scene but bare with me, I promise we will have grays anatomy type of drama

Part I Part III

Stabbed in the heart.

As you laid eyes on him and his voice reached your ears, it felt like a sharp dagger had been plunged into your heart.

Across the passing years, you toiled ceaselessly to mend the pain he had sown within you. Each effort, a step toward stitching the wounds he had inflicted, aiming to stride forward. But in a mere heartbeat, his very presence shattered it all. Your hand instinctively found your chest, fingers cradling the pieces of your broken heart, keeping them from falling apart.

And right then, a wave of understanding washed over you – the truth hit home with stunning clarity. You saw, as if for the first time, that your wounds had never fully healed, that the notion of moving on was a fragile illusion. Here, tears tracing a familiar path down your cheeks, you stood in that bathroom, a parallel to the sixteen-year-old you, the girl whose heart he shattered.

Oh, the heartlessness of fate, forcing you to revisit the day that haunted your fears, compelling you to endure once more the darkest hours of your existence. It was the day when dreams crumbled into dust, love turned into ashes, and you were never the same again.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as your gaze met its reflection in the mirror. Qoren's knocks at the door, your tears falling, Aemond as their cause – the scene was hauntingly familiar. Too familiar.

How cruel fate is for making you repeat the scenario.

How cruel.

Ten years ago..

During lunch break, you stood alone behind the school walls. In the same spot you and Aemond would usually meet to have some passionate sex session, but now you anxiously waited for Aemond, your hands tightly clenched in fear.

A hand embraced you, pulling you close against a firm chest. "Already missing me?"

Aemond.

A quivering exhale escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of your emotions, as you turned gracefully into his embrace, enveloped by the security of his arms with your head buried in his warm chest.

“ Hey baby.. what’s wrong?” He asked as he pulled you away from him, cupping your face in his large hands to look at you “ What’s wrong!”

Tears flowed freely, your sobs becoming a river of emotions. Aemond pulled you into his embrace once more, holding you close and gently cradling your head as he hushed your cries. "Y/n, love, please tell me. What's happened? Talk to me."

With trembling lips, you managed to speak amidst the tears. "I... I'm pregnant."

You felt his hand go still, and you could sense him holding his breath as the weight of your words sank in. "What?" His voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes, you saw his expression transform into one of horror and disbelief. "I'm pregnant," you repeated, your voice quivering.

"How?" The word escaped his lips, laden with a sense of disbelief and confusion.

Your voice was strained as you recounted the events leading up to this moment. "Your brother, Aegon's party," you explained, your voice catching as you relived the memory. "We were drunk, and you forgot to wear a condom... I think I forgot to take the pill."

Aemond's grip on you seemed to loosen, his hand slipping into his hair as his distress became evident. "My parents are going to kill me if they find out, Aemond! My mother... she noticed it before me, and she's going to take me to the ob—"

"Get rid of it," he interrupted sharply, his tone cutting through the air with a firmness you had never heard before, catching you off guard.

You tried to explain, your voice strained with fear and anxiety. "You know that my family only gives me a strict amount of money! And... I'm scared to have an abortion at home—"

"What do you want me to do?" His tone grew a little louder, causing you to flinch.

"Aemond!" You looked at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Why was he reacting this way? "My mother is taking me to the doctor tomorrow morning! She won't even let me go to school! You know how they view the whole 'being pregnant before marriage' thing."

Desperation filled your gaze as you took his hand in yours, holding it tightly. "Just lie to them! Tell them we'll get married after sch—"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He took steps back from you, his voice rising. "I'm not getting married. I'm still young."

"And you won't! I said just lie." You pleaded with your eyes, hoping he would understand. "Just until they forget abo—"

"I'm not raising kids," he interrupted once again, his tone unwavering. "I applied for college just a week ago! I need to focus on my studies, I need to focus on my dreams. I don't have time to look after a fucking child. I've worked hard for this, and I'm not dropping anything in my last fucking year." He glared at you. "Get rid of it. I don't care how, just... get rid of it and don’t talk to me until you do so!" And with that, he walked away.

You had held onto the hope that he would console you, reassure you that everything would be alright. But instead, his departure left you with a sense of vulnerability and pain. The person who had vowed to stand by you had vanished when you needed him most. The person who drew stars around every scar you had, left you to bleed, alone.

Your sweet Aemond left you with a bigger scar. A scar that you weren’t sure if the stars would heal.

An hour ticked by, and you remained rooted in the same place, tears flowing freely, unchecked. Uncertainty gripped you; you felt lost. The thought of your parents discovering the truth filled you with dread. Their strict beliefs would likely lead them to demand that you keep the baby, only to give it away or face disownment. It was a future you didn't want. The idea of nurturing this life within you, only to have it taken away, was agonizing.

In the end, you sought refuge in the school bathroom, seeking the seclusion of one of the stalls. There, you let your tears flow, a torrent of emotions consuming you. It was only when your friend Qoren broke through the door that you found a lifeline, pulling you out of the depths of your despair.

"Y/n, don't make me break this door!" Qoren's voice echoed urgently, and an unexpected laughter bubbled out of you.

Wiping away your tears, you gazed at your reflection in the mirror for a brief moment, collecting yourself. You knew you had to bury these overwhelming emotions; you had no other choice. Your son's health was fragile; his heart was weak, and the last thing you wanted was to stress him. Protecting him from worry was paramount.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, finding solace in the whispered reassurance you offered yourself. "I'm okay," you murmured, a quiet mantra, like a promise to both yourself and your sweet child.

You had intended to linger a bit longer, hoping to regain your composure, but as soon as you heard Luke's voice behind the door, an urgency propelled you to open it without delay.

"Mom! What happened? Are you okay?" Luke's worry spilled out as the door swung open. Your gaze flickered to Qoren first, who extended his hand to you immediately, guiding you out of the bathroom.

Glancing upwards, your eyes met Qoren's, his subtle shake of the head conveying a shared understanding.

"It's because of the doctor, is it not?" Luke's earnest eyes held yours once more.

Your breath caught in your throat as you formulated a response, the urge to shield your son from unease overpowering. "No, sweetheart, not because of that," you lied, masking your true emotions. "I'm just worried about you."

Unconvinced, Luke continued to study you. "I don't believe you."

Your reassurances faltered, and you stood, gently taking his small hand in yours, guiding him back to the bed. "It's true," you insisted, your voice bearing the weight of your sincerity. "He's a specialist, a heart surgeon. I've heard he only takes on serious cases, and it made me anxious."

"But I'm fine," Luke's voice held a note of certainty as he reassured you, his hand reaching out to clasp yours.

"We know, buddy," Qoren's presence offered additional comfort as he stood beside you, his arm enveloping your shoulders in a gesture of support. "But we still worry about you."

"Why did he walk away?"

"Perhaps he forgot something," you suggested.

"Yeah, like his stethoscope or something," Qoren added.

Luke surveyed the two of you for a contemplative moment before finally nodding.

Unable to resist the urge, you showered Luke's head with affectionate kisses before enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Hungry?" you inquired gently.

His next request pulled at your heartstrings. "Can I have a turkey sandwich?"

A soft chuckle escaped you, warmth filling your eyes. "Of course."

Glancing at Qoren, you exchanged a silent understanding, and with a nod, you indicated for him to step outside with you.

"I'll check with the doctor while you go grab something to eat from the cafeteria," Qoren suggested, his gaze on Luke. "Is it all right if you stays here alone for a little while?"

"Sure," Luke replied, his attention already shifting back to his iPad.

As you and Qoren stepped out, the door closing behind you, your apprehension spilled forth. "I don't want that fucker anywhere near my son," your voice was tense, carrying a hint of urgency that made Qoren look around nervously.

"We'll find another doctor," Qoren's voice was a soothing balm, his reassurance gentle. "There must be more skilled surgeons available. If you wish, we can even consider transferring him to another hospital. My father knows good doctors in Essos; we can explore that option. And please, don't worry about expenses—I'll take care of it all."

Gratitude swelled within you, your eyes misting over. He drew you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Come, let's go talk to the doctor," he urged softly.

Half an hour had slipped by, and Aemond remained confined within the hospital, in the bathroom in the surgeon's lounge. He couldn't bring himself to move, his body shaking too much to even get to his car and drive home. He sat on the bathroom floor, waiting anxiously for his sister Helaena to pick up the phone.

You…He saw you.

There you stood, a presence that seemed to pierce through his very being. The girl who had plagued his dreams, who had woven herself into every conscious moment and every corner of his mind. The girl he had fervently tried to erase, burying himself in the pages of books and the rigors of surgeries. For a decade, he had scoured the realms of social media, reached out to your parents, and maintained contact with your friends in the hopes of catching a glimpse of your existence. And now, here you were, finally in front of him. But he chose to walk away once more.

In truth, he had no choice but to leave. He couldn't ignore the pain etched in your eyes, the anger that radiated from you. He couldn't deny the depths of hurt that he had caused, nor could he offer any words that could possibly erase or atone for his actions.

Stupid Aemond... Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Regret and self-loathing coursed through his thoughts, a relentless self-critique that echoed within him. He recognized the depth of his mistake, the gravity of his choices. As he remained perched on the bathroom floor, he grappled with the weight of his own shortcomings, the realization of the missed opportunities and the pain he had caused.

Finally, as if an eternity had passed, Helaena's voice broke through the silence.

"What... What the hell do you w—gods, Aemond, are you crying?" Her voice trembled, faltering as it caught the rawness in his.

"...She's here..." Aemond's voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes, blurred by the veil of his tears, bore a weight that seemed almost unbearable. "She... She's here, Helaena. I... I have a son."

There was a pause, a momentary silence on the other end of the line, as the gravity of his words began to unfurl. And then Helaena's voice, tinged with disbelief, spoke into his anguish. "Wait, wait, are you talking about... y/n?" Her words carried a mixture of confusion and shock. "She was in Dorne this whole ti—YOU HAVE A SON!"

Aemond's heart ached, a complex fusion of emotions waging a tempest within him. "I... She told me she had an abortion! She... She said she went through with it!" His grip on the phone faltered, and it tumbled from his hand to the floor, an emblem of his shattered resolve. "That was the last thing she said before she blocked me and disappeared."

The words hung heavily between them, a tapestry of regret and longing, of mistakes and missed chances. And then, Aemond's voice quivered with a tremor that seemed to encapsulate a lifetime of ache. "I know, Helaena. He's mine." His voice wavered, and in those words, a world of heartache was painted.

“ How do you know ?”

"He... He has my eyes, Helaena... purple eyes, just like mine. And his hair... He has our mother curls and a hint of silver “ The lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him, his words trembling on the brink of despair. "His nose, his lips... They're like mine."

But then, the dam broke. Aemond's voice cracked, and he was consumed by a tidal wave of sobs. "And he probably hates me... Just like I despised my father. Maybe he looks at me the way we once looked at Viserys."

In response, Helaena's voice was a soft anchor amidst the tumultuous sea of emotions. "You are not him, Aemond. You couldn't have known."

"I did," Aemond's voice quivered, his palm pressing against his chest as though to contain the shards of his own heart from shattering. "I knew... And yet, I asked her to get rid of him... I'm worse than Viserys."

"Have you talked to her?" Helaena's voice was a whisper, a thread of hope laced with a touch of reproach.

"No... I ran away," his admission was a painful whisper, an admission of his own inadequacy.

"Aemond..." Disappointment laced her voice, a mirror to the disappointment he felt in himself.

"What am I supposed to do?" The question held a pang of helplessness, a plea that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of words. "No matter what I say, it won't change anything. No matter what I do, I can't erase my past. I can't undo what's been done. I can't bring back y/n."

Helaena's response was a bittersweet echo, a reflection of truth and reconciliation. "You're right. You can't undo the past, and you won't get her back. But grant her the peace of mind by letting her know that you have suffered. Tell her you regret everything, that every breath is a reminder of the choices that drove her away. Tell her you're miserable, that life has lost its meaning, that the ambition you sought so tirelessly now rings hollow. She lost so much, Aemond. Her family, her dreams, her stability... she bore the weight of your absence alone. You won't get y/n, but you can at least do right by her ."

The dam within Aemond burst, his voice muffled by sobs"But I want her back. I want her to look at me again with those eyes that once held love."

There was a poignant pause "I'm afraid that won't happen, Aemond," her voice held a gentle sorrow, a reflection of the choices that had led them here. "You brought this upon yourself."

"Then what do I do, Helaena?" His voice was a fragile whisper, an echo of his vulnerability in its purest form. "Tell me, please."

"Go find her," her voice held a quiet resolve, a beacon of guidance through the haze of his pain. "Do what I told you. I'll book a flight, be with you in a few hours."

“Please hurry," Aemond's voice quivered with plea "Please, I need you."

"Gather yourself, Aemond," her voice was an anchor, a lifeline he desperately clung to. "Wash your face, and go."

And as the call ended, he was left alone with his shattered heart, the burden of his mistakes weighing heavily upon him. Struggling to his feet, Aemond rose from the cold bathroom floor, his hand clutching the sink for support. He gripped the faucet and let the frigid water flow, splashing it onto his face again and again in a desperate attempt to snap himself out of his overwhelming state. His gaze lingered on his own reflection in the mirror for a few moments, as if searching for answers that remained just out of reach.

With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the sink, leaving the lounge and heading towards his son room.

Standing behind lucerys room, Aemond gently knocked the door, his hand trembling and so is his breath and legs. Withe shakuy hand ge reach for the door handle and open it.

The room was empty, only his son in inside, Lucerys was looking at him up and down.

“ H..Hello, young man “ his lips trembled with each word leaving his mouth “ Where is your mother?”

Lucerys expression were that of disgust, but then he immediately turned them to neutral “ Cafeteria “

“ And.. and your ..father?” Those words that he forced out of his lips cuts him deep.

“ He was supposed to talk to you “ Lucerys let go of his ipad and flooded his arms in front of him.

“ Me?”

“ Yes you, aren’t you my heart doctor ? “ Lucerys raised his brows.

“ Ah. He must went to the pediatrician. And there has been some changes, so I’m not your doctor anymore “

Lucerys humm and looked him up and down before returning back to his ipad “ you should leave then “

Aemond looked at him for few minutes, swallowing thickly “ I .. Can I check on your heart ?”

“ sure “

Aemond nodded and hesitantly walked towards him, he got out his stethoscope and listened to his heart beat, it was irregular but there was no crackling sound so he was okay for now.

He then looked at his ancle and there was no swelling so he was safe and the danger of heart failure was not high.

“ You are fine, your heart is stable for now “ Aemond sadly smiled “ You will be alright “

Lucerys didn’t respond, he just put on his headphones and gave him a quick fake smile before paying attention to his ipad.

He took a step toward the door, a faint smile playing on his lips as he contemplated how much Lucerys resembled his uncle, Aegon. But as he moved to leave, something froze him in his tracks. His head snapped back toward the sound, eyes widening, and his throat tightened painfully.

"Qogralbar ao kepa, kirimvogon Jaes ziry geptot ao." ( Fuck you dad, thank god she left you )

Aemond turned back to face Lucerys, his expression a mix of shock and realization. His throat constricted, and his lips parted, but no words came forth.

"I’m not stupid, I have eyes and I can see the resemblance, I knew you looked familiar. Plus my mom’s behavior confirmed it all to me, crying over a silver head with eyes that look like mine? can’t she be more obvious. Not to mention that she is a terrible liar ” Luke shook and looked out the window for few minutes, “ You made her cry earlier, and if she sees you, she might cry again," his voice laced with determination as he returned to look at him "And I..." luke tilted his head, his young eyes locked onto Aemond's. "Don't like to see my mother cry. So get the fuck out and don’t you ever bother her again "

Aemond's heart weighed heavier than it ever had before, burdened by a sadness he had never known. His worst fears had materialized before him, unfolding like a nightmare he couldn't escape. In the story of Lucerys's life, he was cast as Viserys, and you, y/n, had become the haunting reflection of his own mother, Alicent. The parallels were undeniable, a stark reminder that history had a cruel way of repeating itself.

Yet, he knew, deep within, that he was not his father. He was not the same. He might not be able to win you back, but he was determined to be unlike the man who had hurt him and countless others. Just as Helaena had advised, he would give you the peace of mind you deserved, something his own mother had never found, not even in Viserys's final moments.

His voice trembled with regret as he whispered to Lucerys, "I'm sorry, kid. Forgive me." With those words, he left the room, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes, and headed toward the cafeteria, where he would seek you out, hoping for a chance to make amends, even if he couldn't turn back time or erase his transgressions.

You stood in line at the bustling cafeteria, surrounded by a cacophony of chatter, clinking dishes, and the soft hum of refrigeration units. Your mind weighed heavily with the day's decisions, the uncertainty of your son's health, and the resurgence of someone you'd hoped to forget.

After leaving the doctor's office, you had meticulously sifted through profiles and recommendations until you found a new physician for Luke—Doctor Arthur Dayne. His impressive track record and friendly demeanor had reassured you.

Qoren had volunteered to stay behind, intent on gathering all necessary details about potential surgeries or treatments. It was a relief to know you had a friend who would shoulder some of the weight while you ventured to fetch a turkey sandwich for Luke.

Thoughts swirled like a tempest in your mind—Luke's health and the shadow it cast over his future, the practicalities of appointments and treatments, and, looming above all else, his fucking father.

the lady at the cafeteria counter snapped you out of your reverie with a cheery, "Hello, ma'am."

You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before responding, "Hi." Your voice carried a hint of distraction as you glanced at the menu. "I'll have a turkey sandwich, please. And could you cut it in half? Make one of them small."

The cafeteria worker nodded with practiced ease, jotting down your order before turning to assemble it.

You offered a small, reflexive smile but couldn't shake the heaviness that lingered within you. It was a weight you'd grown accustomed to, the burden of being a single parent facing life's uncertainties head-on.

While you waited, you couldn't help but contemplate your own well-being. You'd started to consider seeking therapy, recognizing that burying your feelings wouldn't help. You needed a way to express them, process the trauma, and find a path to healing.

"Here you go!" The cafeteria worker presented you with the bag, accompanied by a warm smile that momentarily lifted your spirits.

You reached into your purse to retrieve your wallet,"Thank you," you offered,

With your wallet safely back in your purse, you turned your attention to making your way through the cafeteria, eager to reunite with Luke. But as you moved, you accidentally bumped into a solid, warm form.

Looking up to apologize, your words caught in your throat as you realized who stood before you….

" Why did you tell me you had an abortion ? "

Taglist :

@namelesslosers @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @fernanda-reads @moonlightazriel @topaz125 @justrybca @girlwith-thepearlearring @anehkael @teamstorybooks @riseandreigns4u @noemienakamoto @lijeno @watercolorskyy @afro-hispwriter @khaleesihel @praline357 @fantasticpeaceharmony @brianochka @sweethoneyblossom1 @happinessinthebeing @snh96 @heavenly1927 @zenka69 @toodlesxcuddles @lunamoonbby @blairfox04 @multiple-fandoms-girl @tsujifreya @tempo-rary-fix @lipgloss05 @carriellie @dc-marvel-girl96 @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @daenerysqueenofhearts @notnormalthings-blog @bluevxnus @Littlelilly27-blog

@misspascalpunk @exitpursuedbyavulcan @saminalloxo @trshngyn @docmartinis @drmeghanjones

My apologies if I forgot anyone.

— Next chapter we have a FIGHT

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fanfic #prince aemond #modern aemond #hotd au #aemond au #modern helaena #helaena targaryen

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thedensworld · 16 days

Text

Your Best Man | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff, humor, established relationship

Summary: Wonwoo has tried his best to become the best man you've ever met. At the end, he is the best man.

Author note: let's have a break from angsty suffering story and have some fluffywonu!

Wonwoo loves you. He loves you with all of his heart. Honestly, he loves you with all of his life. In conclusion he loves you very much. Wonwoo sat there, an empty soju glass in hand, his words flowing like the river of affection he held for you. Mingyu, realizing his friend had reached the brink of tipsiness, halted the soju parade, albeit reluctantly, knowing Wonwoo was just getting started.

"Mingyu, remember when I fell head over heels for her at first sight?" Wonwoo's tone was earnest, albeit slightly slurred, as he delved into his favorite topic, you.

Mingyu nodded, taking a break from his spicy budae jiggae to indulge Wonwoo's sentimental journey.

"She was stunning," Wonwoo continued, his gaze drifting upwards as if searching for you among the stars. "I mean, she's always been gorgeous, but back then? Wow. Even Cupid would've been jealous of my aim that day."

He chuckled, the warmth of nostalgia enveloping him as he recalled the moment fate intervened, intertwining your destinies.

"In hindsight, it's like the universe had a checklist and decided, 'Yep, these two are meant to be.' And who am I to argue with the universe, right?"

Wonwoo's laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy you brought him, even in the haze of alcohol and spicy food.

So there they sat, one lost in love and the other in a spicy stew, united in their admiration for the wonder that was you. And as Wonwoo raised his glass in a tipsy salute to your magnificence, Mingyu couldn't help but toast silently to the cosmic comedy that brought you all together. Cheers to love, laughter, and the occasional soju-fueled confession.

Years ago, Wonwoo became acquainted with you through a movie he watched with Vernon. You were a rising rookie actor at the time. Fate, however, had a more direct introduction in store for him. It happened one evening by the Han River, where Wonwoo sought solace in the night air and a bowl of ramyeon, alone with his thoughts.

The tranquility was shattered by the intrusive click of a camera shutter, followed by a beam of flashlight. Initially annoyed by the presence of paparazzi, Wonwoo's irritation quickly turned to anger as he contemplated the invasion of privacy suffered by countless others in the industry.

His resolve to confront the paparazzi was cut short by a sudden thud and a groan. Rushing to the source of the commotion, Wonwoo discovered the paparazzi lying on the ground while another figure stood nearby, inspecting the camera.

"I know this is your job, but this is not right," Other person admonished, voice firm with conviction. "You've invaded someone's privacy and caused them untold discomfort. Can you even sleep at night knowing what you do?"

As the other person, you, retrieved the memory card, your eyes met Wonwoo's. In that moment of shared understanding, Wonwoo offered a thumbs-up in appreciation of your intervention, sparking a conversation between the two of you.

You explained that you recognized the paparazzi, having caught them fabricating rumors within the industry. Wonwoo nodded in solidarity, acknowledging his own frustration with such unethical practices.

"I was about to take action myself," Wonwoo admitted, shaking his head. "I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who feels this way."

And so, amidst the backdrop of the Han River, a bond formed between two strangers united by their disdain for injustice and their shared desire to protect the integrity of others. It was a chance encounter that would leave a lasting impression on both Wonwoo and you, shaping the course of their future interactions.

A conversation led to another, as late-night discussions evolved into playful banter and eventually escalated into vulnerable talks. What began as strangers connecting gradually blossomed into friendship, and then something more profound – love. Wonwoo cherished every step of the journey with you, never once regretting the decision to let you into his life. With you by his side, life seemed brighter, the shadows dissipating whenever you were together, and he couldn't shake the feeling that you were the one sent by a higher power to fill the void within him.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Wonwoo's question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation and hope. When you said yes, he made a silent vow to himself to be the best man you'd ever known. He listened to your concerns, ensured you never felt pressured, and held you in the highest regard, becoming your staunchest supporter whenever your movies or dramas premiered.

Of course, it wasn't all smooth sailing. Like any couple, Wonwoo and you faced their fair share of ups and downs. But each challenge served as a lesson, strengthening their bond and shaping them into better individuals for each other. If Wonwoo were to recount their biggest argument, it would likely be the time he recommended you to a director he knew.

Wonwoo happened to know a veteran noir movie director, a figure you admired deeply for his work. During a discussion between Wonwoo and the director at a premiere event, your name came up, sparking a conversation that would ultimately change the course of events.

"Your girlfriend is Ji Y/n, right? Her acting was exceptional in the last movie," the director remarked, his interest piqued.

"She's a huge fan of yours," Wonwoo replied. "I know it might be unconventional, but I was hoping you could consider casting her in your next project. It would mean a lot to her."

To Wonwoo's surprise, the director revealed that he was indeed seeking an actress for his upcoming movie and would be delighted if you were interested in joining the cast.

Initially, the news seemed like a dream come true. However, Wonwoo's excitement turned to concern when he received a series of missed calls from you while he was away on a business trip. Upon calling you back, he was met with the sound of your sobbing, instantly stirring worry within him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I never asked for your help with my career," you replied, your tone heavy with frustration.

Wonwoo's brow furrowed as you mentioned the director's name, realizing he had unwittingly stepped into a sensitive issue.

"I never asked you to secure a role for me in his movie, so why does everyone think I got it through a connection?" you inquired him, your voice trembling with emotion.

Wonwoo sighed, acknowledging his mistake. "I was talking to him that night, and he mentioned you—"

"He talked behind my back saying you begged him to put me into the cast."

"I never asked for that!" you continued, your frustration evident.

"I know," Wonwoo conceded, regret weighing heavy on his shoulders. "He didn't say what you think he did."

Feeling hurt and misunderstood, you ended the call abruptly, leaving Wonwoo with a sinking feeling in his chest. Acting swiftly, he instructed his manager to drive him to your place, determined to resolve the misunderstanding before it escalated further.

Wonwoo entered your apartment well past midnight, his fatigue from a long day's schedule overshadowed by the weight of guilt gnawing at him. Upon seeing you seated on the couch, head bowed in distress, he felt a pang of remorse pierce through him.

"What did he say to you?" Wonwoo inquired gently, his voice laden with concern as he approached you.

"It doesn't matter what he said," you replied, your tone laced with frustration. "What matters is that you overstepped by asking him to cast me in his movie! I want to build my career on my own terms, and I want people to recognize that."

Wonwoo knelt in front of you, seeking to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his remorse evident. "I just thought—since you admire his work—it would be a good opportunity. I didn't anticipate this outcome."

A heavy silence hung between you before you confessed the truth. "I walked away from the role midway through filming. I couldn't bear to work with someone who talk trash their talent like that."

Wonwoo nodded understandingly, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "I understand," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled thoughts. "You did what felt right for you."

As you feared, rumors began to circulate in the weeks following the announcement of your departure from the movie. Speculations about your connections within the industry surfaced, casting a shadow over your hard-earned reputation. Yet through it all, Wonwoo stood by your side, offering unwavering support and reassurance.

He knew the truth, and that was enough for him. Together, you weathered the storm of gossip, emerging stronger and more united than ever before. For Wonwoo, there was no greater reward than seeing you stand firm in your convictions, unyielding in the face of adversity. And as long as you had each other, no amount of speculation could tarnish the bond you shared.

Years later, you and Wonwoo went public with your marriage, and he was grateful for the overwhelmingly positive feedback you both received. The wedding was an intimate affair, attended only by close family and colleagues. For Wonwoo, it marked the culmination of his journey to become the best man you'd ever known, now leveled up to become the best husband himself.

He found joy in the simple moments of life, relishing in the comfort of sleeping and waking up beside you each day. To the surprise of his fellow members, who often referred to him as the prince by his fans, Wonwoo had embraced domesticity wholeheartedly. Learning to cook, clean, give massages, and take on any task that arose became second nature to him, especially during your pregnancy with your firstborn, Jeon Jihan.

Now, at five years old, Jihan possessed a strong will of his own, often refusing to hold hands with Wonwoo when being taken to daycare. Wonwoo couldn't help but wonder whose attitude Jihan had inherited—though deep down, he knew it was undoubtedly from you. Nevertheless, it didn't dampen Wonwoo's love for you and his son. He cherished every moment spent with his family, grateful for the love and happiness they brought into his life.

One day, while Wonwoo was away on tour and Jihan was just two years old, he heard from his fellow members that the women—referred to as "their girls"—had gathered at Seungcheol's wife's place. Concerned for your well-being, Wonwoo immediately called you to check in.

"Are you joining them?" he asked, his worry palpable over the phone line.

"Will you bring Jihan?" he added, mindful of your responsibilities as a parent.

"Of course, he can't take care of himself," came your sarcastic reply.

Wonwoo chuckled at your dry humor. "But didn't you say our car broke down yesterday?"

"I'll find a solution, don't worry about it, darling!" you reassured him.

However, after the concert, Wonwoo discovered from Seungcheol himself that you had ridden his bike to their place—with Jihan in tow. Not a word of this had come from you. Frustration and disbelief churned in Wonwoo's chest as he made a call to you.

"How could you ride a bike with our child being that young?" he demanded, his tone edged with concern.

"Jihan loves it!" you countered, sending a photo taken by another woman at a traffic light, showing Jihan smiling while securely attached to your front.

Wonwoo facepalmed with his hand, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You could have endangered both of you and Jihan. You're not allowed to ride my bike again!"

It wasn't that Wonwoo doubted your skill—you had been riding bikes for years, a shared passion that had drawn you both together. However, the idea of riding a bike with your child had never crossed his mind, nor did he ever imagine you would consider it. The incident led to his members labeling him as a "gangster husband," a nickname stemming from your unconventional lifestyle and characters in the movies.

"So what's the matter now, hyung? You said you're okay, you love her, you'll support her no matter what. Then what's with the change of heart?" Mingyu confronted drunken Wonwoo.

Wonwoo clumsily put down his glass, "You're not married, Mingyu. You won't understand my pain!" he declared, slurring his words as Mingyu rolled his eyes in amusement.

Without missing a beat, Mingyu dialed your number. "Hello, Y/n! Did you miss your husband already? He's being a pain in my ass tonight. Should I take him home?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened in panic as he realized what Mingyu was up to, but his drunken attempts to grab Mingyu's phone proved futile.

"Just the usual babbling about his undying love for you and some other nonsense. I'll be there in 20, okay? Bye!" Mingyu announced cheerfully before hanging up.

"No! I don't wanna go home! I don't wanna face her like this," Wonwoo protested dramatically, his words slurred as he tried to resist Mingyu's attempts to escort him home.

Mingyu sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "This hyung..." he muttered, resigning himself to the task of dragging a stubborn and intoxicated Wonwoo back to the safety of your arms.

"Where's Jihan?" Wonwoo groaned, nursing his pounding head while seated at the dining table, his breakfast being served by you. The mere act of opening his eyes felt like a Herculean task.

You shrugged casually, "Someone woke him up last night, and he ended up staying up late. He's still asleep."

Wonwoo's brows furrowed, knowing full well that the culprit was none other than himself. Yet, he was surprised by your nonchalant reaction to Jihan's extended slumber. "He's not going to daycare today?"

You shook your head, taking a seat across from him. "I'm free today, except for my ballet class at 4. Your mom wants to see Jihan, so I'll be taking him to your parents' place before then."

The mention of your ballet class jogged Wonwoo's memory of his conversation with Mingyu the night before. "You're still taking ballet classes?"

You set down your utensils and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Yes," you confirmed firmly. "And Mingyu filled me in on your little chat last night."

Wonwoo grumbled, "I'll punch him later," before offering a weak smile in your direction.

"I've decided to take the role no matter what, darling. It'll be my first-ever romcom movie," you declared, determination shining in your eyes.

Wonwoo sighed deeply, his headache worsening at the thought. "That's the problem, babe. I'm just not ready for that!" he confessed, his tone tinged with a hint of panic.

"What are you not ready for?" you queried, raising an eyebrow as Wonwoo stretched his hands and gestured vaguely.

"All the lovey-dovey stuff you'll have to do in the movie! Kissing, hugging, and acting all smiley with other men—I'm just not prepared for that!" Wonwoo exclaimed, his expression a mix of concern and discomfort.

You scoffed, "I thought we were done talking about this. I asked for your opinion, remember? If you don't want me to take the role, I won't. But you said your opinion doesn't matter as long as I'm happy, and I'm more than happy to challenge myself with this role."

Wonwoo nodded solemnly. "I know, but that was before I found out about the intimate scenes like kissing and hugging!"

You nodded understandingly. "You're right. And besides, you're the only man who can kiss and hug me like that."

Wonwoo sighed, relenting slightly. "Just kiss me three more times every day, and I'll pretend like nothing happened," he bargained, a hint of resignation in his voice. After all, he is your best man, right?

429 notes · View notes

anisespice · 2 months

Text

“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.

parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.

notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol

notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”

When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.

Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.

You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”

One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”

“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”

You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.

“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.

You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”

He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”

“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”

Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.

Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.

“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”

The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.

Well, consider the waters tested.

“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”

Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.

“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.

He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…

However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.

Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.

“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”

Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”

You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”

“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.

“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”

Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”

“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.

With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.

Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.

The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:

“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”

It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.

Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.

When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.

It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.

“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”

“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”

Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”

You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”

“Welcome, gorgeous.”

The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.

“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”

Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”

You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”

Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.

Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.

“Next time, pretty baby.”

You huffed. “Fine.”

Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.

Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”

He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”

“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.

That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.

“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.

“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”

“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”

Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”

You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”

“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”

“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”

You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”

Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”

“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.

“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”

“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”

He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”

You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”

“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.

Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.

And he knew how much you hated doing that.

“Ten minutes.”

He sighed. “[_____]…”

“Five minutes?”

“We can’t-“

“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.

Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.

“Better me than Kaku.”

“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”

Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…

Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.

“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.

You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”

“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”

“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”

“Now, hold on—”

Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.

You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”

However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.

“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”

Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.

“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”

“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.

“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”

Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.

Remorse.

Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…

And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.

With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”

“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”

“-and I don’t care. I just…”

Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.

Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.

Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”

#🍁wasabi #𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞~✩#tokyo rev #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyorev smut #tr smut #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten x reader #bonten smut #manjiro #kakucho #sanzu #ran #rindou

564 notes · View notes

itsswritten · 3 months

Text

Naughty Little Shadows | 3

Pairing: azriel x fem reader

Word count: 4.3K

Warings: A little bit of angst, panicky feelings

Summary: You and Azriel begin to navigate the new complexities of your mating bond, but you quickly realise how dangerous this could become. Is being mated to the Shadowsinger worth your safety?

A/n: Enjoy lovelies, sorry this took a while <3 let me know what you think in the comments, I love hearing all your thoughts 🥹

<<Previous Part

It was today.

The date. Your first proper, planned interaction with one another. And nervous was an understatement.

Your conversation with Adon had been lingering in the back of your mind for a couple of days now, but the general apprehension that came with any first date clouded over those concerns.

What were you to wear? How should you style your hair? Which perfume should you choose?

You felt like a teenager again, flustering over a crush. Except this wasn’t a crush, no it was something much more. Azriel was your mate. The weight of that was heavy, and well despite everything you still wanted to impress him. You wanted him to like you.

And you wanted to see him.

You knew the cost of the relationship jeopardised your own safety, not just because of who he was but because of who you were, and the things you could do. But you still wanted to see what it would be like, to date your mate, to get to know who the Cauldron had deemed a perfect match.

Your bedroom was a current reflection of your mind, an unruly mess with clothing sprawled all over the soft pink sheets. It was moments like these you wished you had a sister, someone to help get ready for a date. A pep talk wouldn’t go amiss.

There were paintings of yours leant against the walls of your room, pots of paint in the corners and piles of books on the dresser. Your space was usually somewhat tidy, but since the bond you had been feeling out of sorts. Sometimes waking up from a dream that had your hands itching to paint. You had avoided painting, like you and Adon had agreed. But some nights when your mind couldn’t switch off, because of thoughts of a certain shadowsinger, you find yourself doodling in the corner of your notebook tendrils of his shadows.

As you stood before your wardrobe, contemplating the perfect outfit for a coffee date, you opted for comfort, settling on light blue cotton dungarees paired with white pumps. A dark blue knit jumper adorned your upper half, and you braid your hair into two french plaits, securing the ends with deep blue ribbons.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, staring at your own reflection. Questioning again if you had made the right choice, but before you had a chance to change your mind you grabbed your bag and headed out.

~~~

On the other side of the city, Azriel prepared for the day meticulously. Dressed in well-fitted black trousers and a charcoal grey shirt, he opted for a look that was effortlessly refined. Despite the composed exterior, his eagerness to see you again was palpable. The time since the bond snapped felt like an eternity, and there were moments when he had to restrain himself from heading to the art shop or your part of town just to catch a glimpse of you sooner.

He had told you to wait for him at a spot by the Sidra, so he could take you to a new coffee shop that had opened. He wanted to originally take you out for dinner, a more formal setting. He was a hopeless romantic at heart, wanting to wine and dine you. But you nervously had proposed a coffee date instead. He didn’t mind, and just hoped it meant he could spend more of the day with you.

Azriel was a punctual man, punctual with work and of course punctual with dates. Waiting was not an option he wanted to subject you to, so he arrived early. Leaning against the stone wall alongside the river, hands tucked casually into his pockets, he gazed out over the water as he waited for you.

In the quiet moments before your arrival, his mind inevitably wandered. He couldn't deny that he already knew where you lived; a confession he would be ashamed to admit to you. After leaving your workshop after that unforgettable evening, a shadow had been sent to ensure you reached home safely. He couldn’t help himself, it was the bond’s insufferable need to protect.

“Ah hello again little ones” a voice pulled Azriel from his thoughts of you. It was rare for him to zone out, but these past few days he hadn’t been able to stop himself daydreaming –daydreaming of you. His eyes locked onto you, a few metres away, your face flushed and hot. The Shadowsinger realised that the greeting wasn't directed at him but at his mischievous shadows.

They had sensed you before he did, swirling over to you in a flurry, mischievously lifting your plaits in the air. The playful interaction became a spectacle for passersby, and you chuckled nervously, your cheeks tinted with a rosy blush.

“I’m so sorry” Azriel quickly muttered, striding over to get a reign on his shadows. He gently took the plaits they held, his fingers tracing the ribbon before releasing you. "I find it hard to control them around you" he admitted sheepishly.

“It’s okay. They’re sweet” you reassured him with a soft smile.

~~~

Azriel led you to a charming cafe nestled in a quiet corner of Velaris. The atmosphere inside was cosy, with warm hues and an assortment of mismatched chairs and tables. Soft jazz music played in the background, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the subtle aroma of pastries wafted through the air.

You both took a seat near the window, able to see the beautiful river from your spot. A view you never tired of.

With your drinks in hand, you settled into an easy rhythm of idle chit-chat. The conversation flowed effortlessly between sips of tea and coffee, covering topics from mundane daily occurrences to shared interests.

Amidst the gentle hum of voices and the clinking of cups, Azriel's shadows exhibited a peculiar fascination with you. They swirled around your hands, their inky tendrils playing in the air. You found their cool caresses surprisingly soothing, they made you feel safe. Perhaps if he wasn’t your mate, if there wasn’t this bond between you, you might have felt unsettled by them. But there was something in the way they touched you, always calming and protective.

"Thank you for giving me some space" you finally said, breaking the idle chatter. Azriel's lips curled into a soft smile.

"I said no expectations, and I meant it" he assured, his gaze sincere. You nodded appreciatively.

"It was just a bit of a shock, you know... I never really expected it…” you opened your fists out “this”, that nervousness you were feeling in your bedroom threatening to surface “But I'm really glad we're doing this" you admitted, your expression softening as you glanced at him.

And you were glad. You couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards Azriel. The safety and security you felt in his company. The longing you were struggling to push down. Chatting with him felt as easy as breathing.

“My shadows seem to have taken a liking to you…” Azriel teased as he took a sip of his black coffee. The tendrils swirling had been a silent third wheel on your date, however they were definitely favouriting you even with their master present.

They could sense you were mates before you both had even considered it. You wondered if there were other things they could sense too. Your gaze settled on some paint still stuck under your nails, and you quickly pulled your hands under the table onto your lap.

You paused for a moment, before glancing up into those hazel eyes “What is there not to like?” Your heart skipped a little at your dare to flirt.

Azirel’s gaze deepend at your remark, shaking his head in agreement “I can’t deny that '' he vibrated.

You could feel the heart crawling up your neck, and you wondered if he could tell. If he could hear how hard and loud your heart was beating.

Azriel, his gaze never leaving yours bit the inside of his cheek lightly as if to stop himself from what he was about to say. There was a possessiveness that he was finding difficult to brush off, he was sure he would need to let off some steam in the ring with Cassian later.

“But…” He breathed, smirking slightly “They’ll need to learn to share”

You hadn’t promised anything to Azriel yet, but you didn’t oppose this idea. The idea of being his, that perhaps the only problems you could encounter was having to split your time between him and his shadows.

Be careful Flower.

Adon’s words rang softly in the back of your mind, keeping you grounded. Reminding you not to lose yourself on this first date... despite losing yourself to him every night in your dreams since the bond snapped.

~~~

After a delightful couple of hours immersed in conversation, Azriel gracefully settled the bill, and you both made your way out of the charming café.

"Fancy walking along the river?" he proposed, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Besides, I don't think they're ready to say goodbye yet." He nodded towards the playful shadows, elegantly slipping around your ankles.

"Right, it's the shadows that aren't ready to say goodbye" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

You couldn’t deny how effortless this all felt, and as the sun began to set and darkness filled the sky you realised you didn’t want to say goodbye either.

So you didn’t.

Instead there were promises of see you soon.

And as the frequency of your visits with each other grew, there were subtle hands brushing, and hair being tucked behind your ear, soft arm brushes and on your last encounter Azriel had even pulled you into a light embrace.

It was becoming a sweet routine, one you were getting drunk on.

You had finally invited Azriel over to your apartment, after three weeks of frequent dates and his not so subtle stops at Adon’s shop.

As he entered, the warmth and cosiness of the space enveloped him. The air carried the comforting scent of you, a unique blend of paints and pages, but that underlying essence that felt entirely yours. For Azriel, being in your personal space felt like a huge step in your relationship, that step closer to you hopefully, accepting the bond.

Azriel looked a little out of place in your tiny apartment, merely just to his size. He had his wings taut at his back while he swiftly manoeuvred your carefully cluttered apartment, filled with art and paints. And even though you could tell it was perhaps a bit of a tight squeeze, it was still a fit.

And there was something about him, being amongst all your stuff–being amongst you, that fit.

It all fit perfectly. The bond hummed.

Your laughter was light and airy as you giggled along to Azriel’s childhood story, recounting one of the fond memories of meeting Cassian and Rhys. “Ahh... you should have seen us.” He was recalling a time when they had gotten into a scrap over food after a very long day of training.

“Remind me not to get in the way of you three and a meal then” you laughed, your hands had already subconsciously found his. Fingers trailing over his scars.

If it was anyone else he would have recoiled at the touch. There was a part of Azriel that wanted to hide this aspect of him, but your touch was so soft and gentle that he had decided from the moment the bond had snapped and you had declared you were his. That he would not shy away from letting you know he was all yours too.

Scars and all. If you wanted him.

“They really want to meet you,” Azriel said after you had caught your breath from laughing. “There’s no pressure of course, I know it’s still early days. But my family, they’re important to me…and well so are you”

You nodded, a subconscious gesture. As you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth–an unintentional nervous habit. A mannerism you hadn’t ever been aware of, but one the spymaster had astutely noticed during your first date.

Anticipation had always lingered in the air; meeting his family was an inevitable step in your relationship. One that scared you as the looming weight of your secret hung. A part of you secretly wished to prolong the idyllic bubble of just the two of you a little while longer, but you knew you couldn’t forever.

Be careful Flower.

Adon’s warning rung again in your mind.

The inner circle. It was an intimidating thought. Initially, it took a handful of visits with Feyre to dispel the nerves that accompanied being in the presence of your High Lady. However in the comforting embrace of your workshop, surrounded by the familiar scents of paints and the soothing ambiance, you found ease. There, the worries of slipping up dissipated.

But in the company of them all, the entire inner circle, a group comprising some of the most formidable individuals in Prythian, stirred a wave of anxiety. Could you maintain your composure?

You had managed to navigate through discussions about your past without delving too deeply with Azriel. You briefly shared the story of your fathers passing in the war, and how Adon, a family friend, had taken you in after. You purposely kept things vague, and luckily for you Azriel didn’t seem like one to pry. However, you hoped–prayed–that the spymaster wasn’t one to snoop. Because if he really wanted to, you were sure Azriel would be able to find out anything he wanted.

You realised how long you had been quiet now, and how you hadn’t really answered Azriel’s invitation. Even if he did say there was no pressure.

You couldn’t avoid them, that could create more attention. Maybe seeing them now would take the edge off, maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. Maybe you should trust yourself and, maybe just maybe you should allow yourself to have this.

“I would love to meet them Azriel”

~~~

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you left the comfort of Adon's art shop, heading towards your apartment. He wished you luck, however you couldn’t miss his expression of concern that followed with a reminder to be cautious. The prospect of meeting Azriel's inner circle was thrilling, but ultimately nerve-wracking.

You hoped they would like you.

You hoped nothing would go wrong.

You unlocked your apartment quickly, knowing you had only an hour to get ready before Azriel was to pick you up. However, as you stepped further inside, a subtle tension in the air caught your attention.

Instantly, you sensed something was amiss. Your instincts screamed that the equilibrium of your space had been disrupted. You noticed paint spilled haphazardly across your room, books strewn on the floor, and an unusual energy permeating the air.

That feeling, one you recalled from long ago, sent shivers down your spine.

Moving cautiously, you navigated the chaos, your heart pounding as you turned the corner into your bedroom. Then, you felt it—the unmistakable presence of energy, not just any energy– your energy, your magic.

"Gods, no" you whispered in panic, as your eyes settled on the little shadows curled up in the corner of your room. They looked like Azriels, and yet you could tell they were not his at all. They were mimicking the feeling of them, mimicking your memory of them.

Rushing to your notebook, flapping quickly to the pages you would scribble on when you couldn’t sleep, only to discover the once-filled pages of Azriel's illustrative shadows now empty.

Stupid girl.

So so stupid you screamed inside your head. You had promised not to paint, promised not to do anything too risky while your feelings were in a frenzy. But you had drawn. Almost every night in fact, in a sleep-like haze after dreaming of Azriel. It was like you couldn’t contain it, your artistic flair itching in your blood begging you to put pencil to paper.

You had unintentionally brought them to life.

You gulped staring at the shadows–your shadows in the corner of the room. They were a reflection of your power, an extension of you. And yet you had absolutely no control over them.

"I'm sorry, little ones" you pleaded, inching closer. "You were never meant to be here, you really must go…please"

The shadows, knowing your intention, not wanting to cease existence moved playfully, taunting you with whispers, "Can't catch us."

You wondered if this was your own fault, that maybe if you had drawn the shadows as compliant servants instead of the disobedient minions, that your own creations may have had better recall.

You lunged into the corner of the room, narrowly missing them as they jittered across the wall. And so the dance began, as you ran across your apartment, diving and jumping trying to reel these little creations in.

Frustration and anger swelled within you. Years of avoiding your power, pushing it down, now manifested in this mistake. Desperation gripped you as you attempted to use your magic to call them in, but the lack of control only fueled their mischievous dance. They wouldn’t listen to you.

In a frenzy, you chased them around the apartment, knocking over more paint, stumbling, and colliding with furniture. It was the knock on the door that pulled you from your cat and mouse chase.

Azriel's concerned voice penetrated the wooden barrier. "Y/n. Are you okay? I heard some banging."

You glanced at the clock, had an hour already gone and passed? You angrily glared at your shadows who were dancing dangerously close to your window. You were going to lunge for them again, but you could hear Azriel getting restless, knocking the door again.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” He sounded really worried this time.

Brushing your hair down hastily, sending another glare at your shadows, you rushed to open the door. Azriel's perceptive eyes quickly scanned your dishevelled appearance, and noticed how you only opened the door slightly.

"Is someone here?" he inquired, genuine concern etched across his features.

You glanced back over your shoulders, panic setting when you realised your window was wide open. The presence of your creations was conspicuously absent, with the cool breeze flowing through your apartment as the only indication that they had ever been there.

They were gone. Gone out into the city to cause whatever mischief it was they had intended to do.

You wondered if you should cancel, but when you looked at Azriel’s expression you couldn’t bring yourself to let him down.

Flustered, you stammered, "Oh, no, it's just me.” With no fake shadows insight, you opened the door for Azriel to step in. You could see him scanning your space, taking in the spilt paint and furniture that seemed out of place. If he had suspicions he didn’t say anything else, his unreadable expression covering his face.

“I’m sorry I got off work late, let me just quickly get changed” It was a white lie, a flimsy attempt to conceal the unusual events that had unfolded moments ago. But it would have to do.

Apologising for the mess, you hurriedly retreated to get ready, the urgency in Azriel's presence adding to your unsettled state. You chose a long, flowing blue dress, its fabric soft against your skin. The dress, adorned with subtle patterns reminiscent of starlight, clung elegantly to your figure. Pulling your hair into a loose bun, you quickly applied a touch of makeup, trying to regain composure.

As you transformed your appearance, the lingering unease from the encounter with your mischievous shadows weighed on you. Shaken but determined not to let Azriel sense your inner turmoil, you joined him again.

"I'm ready," you announced, your voice betraying a hint of lingering disquiet.

Tonight was about meeting Azriel's inner circle, this was important to him. And important to you. You couldn’t ruin this, those shadows couldn’t ruin this. You sucked in a sharp breath as Azriel’s eyes dragged down your body, and a small smile pulled on his lips as his gaze practically devoured you.

“You look beautiful”

You smiled, wanting to relish in the sweet words of your mate.

~~~

The night was in full swing, the warm ambiance of the Inner Circle enveloping you in a whirlwind of embraces and introductions.

Mor, with her long golden hair and radiant personality, was the first to pull you into a hug, followed by Cassian, whose embrace exuded both strength and camaraderie. Nesta's greeting was more reserved, offering only a nod and a tight smile, while Amren's welcome was a drink being pushed into your hand. Rhysand ushered you into a spacious dining room, where Feyre linked her arm with yours, guiding you to a seat beside her. Azriel settled on the other side, and the rest of the Inner Circle found their places, engaging in lively chatter.

As the conversation flowed, Cassian, always ready for a good story, began regaling the group with an anecdote about Azriel and Rhys. Laughter echoed through the room, and you couldn't help but get caught up in the warmth of the moment, the earlier events in your apartment momentarily pushed aside.

However, just as you began to immerse yourself in the joyous atmosphere, a subtle shift in energy caught your attention. It tugged at the edges of your awareness, and you sensed a presence—something hiding in the corners of the room. The rest of the Inner Circle, engrossed in their discussions, remained oblivious.

Before you could fully process this strange feeling, Mor directed a question your way, disrupting your train of thought. "Azriel says you work at Adon's art supplies down in the artists quarter."

Caught off guard, you nodded, about to respond, but then Nesta interjected with a sharper tone, "So you're a sales assistant?" Her words carried a hint of scepticism, though you sensed a genuine attempt at interest. Cassian gave his mate an encouraging look.

Amren, not one to mince words, remarked, "The poor girl can hardly get a word in."

Azriel gave an encouraging smile and a silent apology for his raucous family. You attempted to answer Mor and address Nesta's question, but then you felt it—the presence lingering in the corner of your vision –your shadows. The group was engrossed in their conversation, but you alone sensed the subtle disturbance.

"Yeah just a sales assistant," you blurted out quickly, downplaying your role as an attempt to divert attention.

Feyre, catching on to your unease, chimed in, "Not just a sales assistant. You make the most wonderful creations, y/n."

Creations? Panic flickered in your eyes as you met Feyre's gaze. What did she mean by creations? Did she know? Had she seen them?

"Ah yes, the magical paint." Rhys added.

You let out a relieved breath, realising that Feyre referred to the enchanted paints. "Right, the paint," you echoed, hoping to steer the conversation away from your unique abilities.

"It's such a unique ability," Rhys continued, his expression was soft but his words genuine.

"It really isn't anything that spec-" you began, but Cassian interjected with a playful smirk, "You know I'd quite like my own paint created after me. Maybe we could call it 'Cassian's Warrior Essence’ or something."

Nesta had made a quick remark of how that sounded like it was referring to something other than paint. Before Azriel shot his brother a knowing look, a silent plea to stop the teasing. However the Inner Circle continued to banter and playfully argue over potential paint names, everyone talking over one another in the lively conversation.

Meanwhile, your nerves heightened as you noticed your mischievous shadows lurking, inching closer. Gripping the chair tightly, your knuckles turned white, and tension coursed through your body.

Azriel, sensing the shift in your composure, began to worry. Despite agreeing to maintain a barrier between your bonds, he could feel your encroaching panic through the thread.

As the playful banter continued, Azriel whispered your name, his concern evident. "Is everything okay?" Your focus remained on trying to channel your shadows away, desperate to keep them from revealing themselves. However, they persistently inched over the ceiling, and you feared one wrong move would expose your secret.

Azriel reached for you, "My love..." The touch was meant to offer comfort, and perhaps if you weren’t so enraptured in fear you would have acknowledged the sweet name he had called you, but you flinched, pushing the chair back forcefully and standing up, bracing your hands on the table.

The sudden clatter silenced the boisterous conversation, and worried gazes turned toward you.

Feyre, with genuine concern, asked, "Y/n, are you okay?"

Azriel's breaths grew heavy as he scanned you, attempting to decipher the turmoil in your mind. Your outburst had sent your shadows skittering toward a window, and with a final push of your ability, you declared, "I never should have come here."

In the stunned silence that followed, you locked eyes with Azriel. His expression, once warm and welcoming, shattered into a mosaic of confusion and hurt. Desperation flashed in his hazel eyes as he stood up, his tall form towering over the table, searching for the right words to mend whatever had just unravelled.

But before he could say anything, a wave of realisation washed over you. The shadows, your creations, were seeping back out of the window. Relief coursed through you, but the risk had been too great, and you couldn't stay any longer.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, and without waiting for a response, you pushed away from the table, the chair scraping against the floor in your haste as you rushed away.

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#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #azriel fic rec #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel angst #azriel x y/n

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 2 months

Text

Rescue pt. 2: knight!price x princess!reader

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standards for women

A little longer than normal

Sir John Price’s hands were gentler than they looked.

He led you to the river when he saw the cut on your arm, and had you sit on a nearby rock. He barely said a word to you, just merely told you to sit while he grabbed a pouch out of his horses saddle and went to the river.

When he returned, he came back with a wet rag and kneeled beside you. He hesitated to touch you before he gently began to clean the blood from your skin.

You expected him to hold your arm firmly, to pull at your skin and create friction but instead he held you delicately. He was careful as he cleaned your wound, his gentleness a stark contrast to the bloodshed he created just moments before.

Every touch from his warm fingers made goosebumps form and set your skin aflame.

You jerked when the wound stung and he stopped.

“I’m sorry, my hands are rougher than most.” He apologized as if he caused the wound.

You’re at a loss of what to say.

You’d never seen this side to him, to the knight who you bickered and fought with, who you were sure hated your guts, who had become your shadow. You thought he was incapable of it, or at the very least incapable of showing this side to you.

“It was irresponsible for you to run off like that.” He scolded you and you scowled.

“Save the lecture, I’m not a child.” You snapped at him and his eyes narrowed.

“You run off into the forest without a care, you play into fantasies about secret admirers and ignore your duty as a princess-“

“Watch the way you speak to me.”

“Someone should tell you the truth, I’m not afraid of you.”

You pushed him away and stood up. You hated the way hands shook as you glared at him.

“You know nothing about me!” You shouted. “My entire life is for my people and I have always put them first. I spend every moment waiting for the day I’m sold like cattle in the name of peace while everyone looks at me like I’m a prize to be won.”

Your mouth moved faster than your thoughts. It was improper to your knight this, to even speak of your thoughts like this out loud but you were at your wits end.

“I listen to others boast about themselves so I can choose them while they don’t even see me-“

“You seemed happy when the king did it-“

“Because it’s my duty! If I don’t marry him then i am failure…I am nothing more than a link in a chain of security.”

Your throat was tight and you could hardly breathe.

“My life has never been my choice.” You choked out. “I am destined to be an object that creates an heir and thrown to the side once I’ve served my purpose.”

Price was silent and your ragged breaths were the only thing that took up the air.

You felt awful for your feelings. These things were irresponsible, you were selfishly thinking more about yourself than the greater good but you were so desperate for something different.

“Why did you run?” Price asked, his tone softer.

You blinked as the back of your eyes stung with tears.

“I had to get away.”

Your emotions swirled like a storm within you, your thoughts a mess. The attack, your marriage, his kindness, it was all too much.

A surge of tears hit you and you sat down on the rock again, hiding your face in your hands as they began to fall down your face. You stifled your sobs because you didn’t want to degrade yourself anymore in front of him.

He stepped in front of you.

“Your highness, do you wish to marry the king?” Price’s voice was calm and firm yet there was a softness that struck your chest.

“I have to-“

“No.”

Your eyebrows knitted together and you looked up from your hands.

Price kneeled in front of you, much like how squires are when they wait for the Queen to knight them so they can serve the kingdom. His cold blue eyes stared at you as if he waited for a command, a sort of devotion only one could have for someone who they served implicitly.

He waited patiently for you to answer, his eyes trained on your face as you wiped away your tears.

You debated on whether you should say it or not, but he already thought you irresponsible. What more did you have to lose?

“No.”

Price stated at you for a moment before he seemed to come to terms with what you said. There was a sense of finality in his eyes as he nodded, before he stood and pulled out the pouch.

“Let me finish tending to your wound, your highness.” He began to apply a salve that cool the irritation of your cut. “Then I’ll escort you back to the castle.”

You didn’t protest as he wrapped the wound with a cloth.

After he had helped you on his horse he led you through the forest back towards the castle. You were still at war with yourself, utterly exhausted and a mess of emotions as you sealed your fate to be married to the king in just a week.

You tried to control your tears which only led to more falling as you sniffled like a child.

“I’m sorry.” You’re not sure why or what you apologized for.

“I won’t judge you.” He assured you. “Even if you stain the saddle.”

You scoffed, a smile pulling at your lips even as you let a few more tears slip.

Once you were back at the castle he helped you down from his horse, his hand against yours creating a sort of shock between the both of you before you bid him goodnight.

You did your best to hid your wound until you were in the safety of your bedchamber, where you found yourself having finally given up on being free.

Sir John Price had never felt such anger when he saw you cry.

It had never really occurred to him that you would feel the way you did, trapped and worthless, when you were more than that. He never realized that the suitors who he thought you entertained because you wanted to, made you feel that way, that he made you feel that way.

He’d think more on it if he had the time. He wanted to do more than what he was going to do, but there was only so much a knight could do.

Your tears and words stirred something inside him.

Price watched you enter the castle, his hand trembling from your touch. Your skin was softer than he imagined, warmer than the rays of the sun, and had sent a current of electricity through him.

What he was about to do was risky, but he was willing to take that leap if it meant it dried your tears.

He returned to the barracks, where he had called a meeting between his own men before he managed to catch a glimpse of you running to the forest.

He was lucky he had got there in time. He felt sick thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t. The rage he felt seeing blood on you was unprecedented for him.

Fate seemed to be in his favor however. Sir Simon Riley had returned from the king’s kingdom after he had sent him there for information as he refused to let the Queen marry you off without first knowing who the king was.

From what he saw today, he was not much. Even a knight like himself could see the taint he carried and he couldn’t believe the Queen allowed it, so he hoped that she didn’t know any better.

He desperation to marry you off was worrisome but he didn’t have time for that.

“What did you find?” Price asked when he returned to the table.

“A declaration of war, yet to be announced.” Simon set the scroll on the table. “And no money.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, he wants to pulls us into war.” Sir John MacTavish uncrossed his arms in disbelief.

“We’re not equipped for this.” Kyle said and looked to Price. “Not without proper preparation.”

Price stared at the pieces of paper. The audacity the king had to exploit the Queen in such a way, knowing that he could’ve had support if he had asked, but perhaps he wanted to assurance there would be if he married you, especially since he had no money.

It would embarrass her. It was enough reason to call of the wedding.

Enough reason to save you.

The moment you told him that you truly did not want to marry the king, he told himself he would find a way to break the marriage between the two of you by any means necessary.

“The Queen won’t stand for this.” Price swayed his hips. “I’ll notify her immediately.”

“Delving into politics, sir?” Kyle teased and he huffed.

“Kate’s gone, I have no choice.”

He took the pieces of paper and walked towards the castle. He was just as convincing as Kate could be and with evidence it wouldn’t be hard.

He was determined to not fail and though it was uncommon for him to show himself at the Queen’s quarters he was not afraid of what she might say to him.

“Your majesty,” he bowed deeply when she answered the door. “I have troubling information about our guest.”

The next morning was tense. The throne room lacked the regular court but the Queen and you sat in your throne’s while the king stood the eyes of your mother’s judgement.

Price stood at the bottom of stairs and watched the panic course through the king with indifference.

“You lied to me, to my daughter and expect us to take it lightly?” The Queen’s words were laced with venom.

“It wasn’t a lie, your majesty!” He protested but she raised her hand to stop him.

“I ask for peace and you bring me war, I ask for prosperity and you give me nothing.”

Price glanced at you and noticed the shock on your face. You were told to join your mother suddenly and the new information had been kept tightly sealed until this moment to keep the scandal at a minimum. You had gone into this blind and though he regretted that, he hoped your relief would make up for it.

“We are a strong kingdom who values strong allies, you are more reckless than a wild boar.” The Queen spat and the king sputtered. “I’ll have none of this in my court.”

The king tried to come up with some excuse but The Queen stood up. The air was thick as he looked down her nose at him.

“Sir John,” she said and Price looked to her. “Have your men escort him out the castle.”

“Yes, your majesty.” He bowed as she made her way out of the throne room.

“We will discuss your marriage another day, my darling.” She said to you and all you could do was nod.

Price watched his men escort the king out of throne room and all that was left was him and you.

He turned to you and you shared a look.

You looked surprised but visibly relieved. You stared at him with a sense of awe but also uncertainty as if you couldn’t quite believe what happened. Thought he didn’t outright say it was him, he was sure you had your suspicions about whether or not this was his doing.

He hopes that maybe this would partially make up for his mistakes against you.

“This was irresponsible, Sir John.” You finally said and he raised an eyebrow.

“My duty is to protect the crown…” he argued. “If you’re implying that this was my doing, however I can assure you I had no hand in this.”

You quirked an eyebrow and the corner of your lips twitched. He couldn’t help but admire the twinkle of amusement in your eyes with a sense of awe that struck him harder than anything before.

It was a small lie, one to save face and to provide a chance to keep sentimental feelings at bay for the time being.

“Is that so, sir?”

“It would seem it.”

You stood up and made your way to him. There was a sense of vulnerability within your eyes as you struggled to meet his and he found himself almost begging that you would look at him.

“Thank you.” You said barely above a whisper.

Price blinked a couple times and before he bowed.

“Of course, your highness.”

A/n: what does Price say? Violence and timing? He sure if efficient when it comes to you.

Tags. @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze

#knight!price #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price x you #call of duty #captain john price #princess!reader

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figonas · 11 months

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I’m sorry but you all aren’t listening, lyctorhood itself is not the “indelible sin” and you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands, honestly, maybe not even then. TazMuir herself could not dissuade me until she explicitly tells me otherwise. My proof for this you ask? Pyrrha’s conversation with Varun in NtN chapter 9.

But let’s backtrack for a second. John has stated that the resurrection beasts are after him and the lyctors for committing the indelible sin of lyctorhood, and as such the lyctors can never return to the Dominican System for fear of drawing the RBs back to the Nine Houses. I’ve never believed this was true given the fact that John is always the greatest common denominator when it comes to the presence of an RB and there’s no mention of an RB going after a lone lyctor. Sure, lyctors have been killed fighting resurrection beasts but there’s a huge difference between being caught in the crossfire and starting a firefight. For me, Nona the Ninth only reinforced that what we’ve been told is the “indelible sin” is either John misunderstanding the RBs (doubtful) or lying for his own purposes (more likely).

In chapter 9 of NtN, Nona recounts the story of her disastrous beach trip and towards the end of this recitation Nona says that Pyrrha;

“…crossed to the taped-up window, bottle and glass in hand. To Nona’s awe, she twitched the blackout curtains aside—stood bathed in the hyper-blue light from the sky as Nona held her breath—and she said to the window, “Here’s to Camilla Hect, yet another of devotion’s casualties,” and knocked back the glass. Then she said to the light, quite gently, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.”

Pyrrha stands in front of Nona, bathed in the light of Varun the Eater, and proceeds to have a conversation with it. We only get one side but based on the context of the last line, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.” Varun seemingly apologizes to Pyrrha for killing G1deon. It’s proven later on in the book that Varun can speak to Nona, and while it could be argued that since G1deon is dead and his soul is gone the “indelible sin” has been undone this still begs the question; why would the punisher apologize to the sinner?

If Varun and the other RBs are hunting the lyctors to dole out justice for their sins why would they apologize for doing the very thing they sought to do unless that wasn’t their true intent. The “indelible sin” is not the consumption of another soul, it is the consumption of a specific soul. It is John taking Alecto into himself, not being able to house all of her and instead making an exchange. Housing a piece of her in him, and a piece of him in her. Splintering the soul of a great and terrible force into manageable parts. Which explains Varun’s ominous presence hanging over the planet in the first place.

If RBs are hunting Lyctors there are no lyctors on this planet. Palamedes has not consumed Camilla’s soul, G1deon is gone, Harrow is in the River, Gideon is thumbtacked to her dead body, the only soul of any significance to Varun is Nona. Later on in chapter 13 Varun, by way of Judith, says to Nona;

“…what they did to you and what they wrung from you and what shape they made you fill—we see you still—we seek you still—we murdered—we who murder—you inadvertent tool—you misused green thing—come back to us—take vengeance for us—we saw you—we see you—I see you.”

And in chapter 27,

“….what did he do to you, to make you this way.”

What did HE do to you!!! what did HE do to YOU!! To give John credit he doesn’t deserve he may not realize it himself but the RBs have been looking for Alecto this whole time. They don’t want the lyctors, they want what John stole, they want the piece of Alecto inside of him. Want to make her whole again, their misused green thing. She’s almost there. She has her piece back from harrow’s body, united with the piece of her hidden in the locked tomb. She only has 1 piece left to collect. And god knows what will happen when the green and breathing thing is whole once again.

#the locked tomb #Nona the ninth #john gaius #alecto the first #tlt #tlt theories #this has been rattling around in my brain since Gideon the Ninth #John’s explanation of the RBs just doesn’t add up #and you know he has to be lying about it because he straight up lies to Harrow about the number of RBs in HtN

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retroellie · 4 months

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Daryl x reader but at first she gets on his nerves? Almost enemies to lovers

Summary: Daryl hated you, completely despised you. His hatred for you turned into something more after just one night with you.

A/N: This is probably the filthiest and longest thing I've ever written :). So enjoy asf!!! This was literally hell to write because i have writer's block right now so my mind is somewhere else right now

Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Slapping/spanking, Daryl just being mean asf. Kind of a toxic relationship?!?

Word count: 8K

Daryl was at peace in this moment, complete and utter peace. The river slowly rushing against the earth, the soft wind blowing against his skin, the bright light of the sun bursting the stress from his face. Ever since he had gotten away from Alexandria he felt he was where he belonged, nature. Ever since he was a kid, rivers and forests were his safe haven. The only living thing to be seen was the animals and even then they were fearful of humans.

That's how Daryl felt in a way, fearful of humans and what they can do, that's why he resided with animals. They had their packs and stayed with them, never getting too close to other packs. It was just him and his home, of course with the dog too. But despite the healing of the river or the wind whispering into his ear, this wound could never be healed for Daryl. He was out here for a reason and this time it wasn't trying to run away from his dad.

It was for Rick, his friend, his family.... his brother. This was a deeper wound than any he'd ever had, mental or physical. He was angry, hurt, and guilty for what he had done, especially with the silence that came with nature. He looked for days on end, and those days turned to months, and months turned to years. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew Rick was still alive and if he wasn't... he just needed to give the people that confirmation.

He took the knife and gutted it into the fish, cleaning it out until it was just the meat on its bones. It was a chilly day, enough to have the dog cuddled up on Daryl's leg as he gutted the fish. Daryl didn't mind the cold, he actually liked it better than the heat and it kept the dead away better. He continued his work, frying the fish on the fire as he poked at it softly, mesmerized by the crackles of the fire.

Suddenly a branch snapped behind Daryl, he didn't hesitate in pulling his crossbow from next to him and pointing it at the sound, ready to fire at any minute. He almost squeezed the trigger, almost letting the arrow go right into the head of his attacker. But suddenly his eyes made out who it was and realized it was you. His body feels relaxed but only to be filled with annoyance.

"It's just me!" You put your hands up in surrender, dropping what you had been holding in your hands.

Daryl watched as you shook, fearing that Daryl might actually shoot you at that moment. Daryl sighed, putting down his crossbow and rolling his eyes.

"Damn it, girl! I coulda killed you!" Daryl yelled. Of course, the first time he talks in days is to scold you for something.

Daryl sat back down in his spot, throwing down his crossbow in anger as he went back to cooking his fish. He suddenly wished he would've pulled the trigger, maybe then he could tell everyone it was an accident.... as if anyone could miss you. If Daryl said he hated you, it was an understatement. He despised you, he wondered how you survived this long without a bullet to your head.

"I know... I'm sorry.." You tried to defend yourself. "Carol asked me to drop some stuff off... I didn't mean to scare you.."

You bent down to gather what you had in your hands, the bag you had broken when you dropped it. You shoved everything in the bag and stood up, standing still as you watched Daryl cook his fish. You never knew why Daryl couldn't stand you, it made you a bit sad at first because you envied him. You thought he was the coolest person ever, with his crossbow and his motorcycle. Part of you thought it was because you genuinely thought he was a cool person but the other half knew it was because of what he did to your underwear.

"Carol told me to bring you more arrows and some extra clothes... I threw some food...." You went to finish but Daryl was annoyed by your voice already, wanting you to shut up and leave already.

"Why couldn't she do it?" He interrupted

You forgot how much of an asshole he was and at that moment, you were kind of glad he was staying out here instead of in Alexandria. The only reason you liked him staying at Alexandria is how his arms looked when he was working on his bike... but that's all it was to you, just a silly little crush or not even that, you'd be more than okay if he fucked you and dipped. You cleared your throat, collected your words, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh well... Henry is sick, he has some kind of stomach bug and well I was at the kingdom so she asked if I could bring it to you on the w..." Once again you can't even get your words out without Daryl being a complete dick to you.

"I didn't ask for a story." He said sternly, not even looking at you but you knew his face had that ugly, yet strangely arousing, annoyed look written all over it.

You sharply inhaled, slightly hurt at his words. You just stood there though, not sure what to do next. You could just throw his shit down or not and leave, but unfortunately, you were too tired to go on. You had been walking all day and here to Alexandria would be at least another 3 hours. You just thought maybe some rest would be nice, maybe a bit of that fish he was cooking but you knew Daryl.

Daryl hadn't liked you ever since you two had met, he was always such a dick to you and you had no idea why literally no idea. You were always respectful to him, saying please and thank you, sometimes shooting him a soft smile when you would catch each other in the same room. He always put you down so fast, sometimes just his facial expression when he would look at you was enough for you to go home crying.

"You can leave now, you did your job." He pulled you out of your thoughts.

His eyes still didn't reveal themselves to you, but you knew the stank eye he'd be giving you right now. The thought of it just made your stomach do turns, but the thing you were about to ask made it drop completely.

"That's the thing... you know it's getting late, by the time I get back on the main roads it'll be pitch black, and well I've been walking all..." You don't even know why you keep trying to explain anything to him at this point.

"Get to the point.." He said, annoyance dripping from his mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, standing up straight so you could at least look like you were not about to cry or throw a tantrum.

"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night... I'll be out of your hair by dawn tomorrow." You pleaded almost, which made you cringe a bit.

Daryl stayed silent for a minute, just poking at the fire softly as he rubbed the dog's head. Daryl almost gagged at the thought of you staying with him, even just for a night. It reminded him of when you guys were on the road together with everyone else, you always ended up sleeping next to him and he hated it. You would take up such a little room but Daryl felt like that was more than you needed, he would huff and puff. Not to mention how tight his pants would get when we saw you in only a tank top, how your breasts would push themselves together as you snored softly. How your pretty lips would part themselves, almost as if you were teasing him even in your sleep.

Daryl thought for a minute, he really didn't want you here. Your presence would just be so irritating to Daryl, he would know you were only 2 feet away from him at all times and that frustrated Daryl. You would be prancing around his safe space, breast sticking out, voice laced with sugar as you spoke, and presenting your ass to Daryl while you picked something up. The thought made Daryl go cold and he wanted to kick you out then and there. Call Daryl old-fashioned but he was against kicking out a young girl for safety just because of one's annoyance.

"Ya, you will be..." Daryl stated, standing up and making his way over to you, snatching the bag from your hand. "You can stay for the night... but you're gonna have to give me your weapons for the night and you owe me half of your food."

Fucking asshole... is all you could think of. You hated him, so fucking much it hurt. You have no idea what you had done to this man to make him hate you so much, it doesn't make sense to you but you needed some rest. You handed him your bag and watched him sit back down in the same spot, digging into the bag Carol had packed.

"Thank you, Daryl. I ap..." You decided at this moment to stop trying to speak.

"And no talking... I don't want to hear anything you gotta say, ya hear me?" He scolded, containing his digging into the bag.

"yes sir..." You bit back, trying your best not to start yelling at him about how childish he was being.

You brushed past Daryl to get some water from the river so you could get away from Daryl. Daryl's dick twitched at your use of "sir", he couldn't help the goosebumps that rose from his skin. He watched you walk your way down to the river, watching your tits bounce as you stormed off. He hated you with a burning passion but he couldn't deny that you had beautiful tits.

You couldn't sleep, you were so tired before you went to this shit show of a camp but now you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, the tent walls feeling like they were going to close on you. You could hear Daryl poking at the fire outside, trying to keep it burning as he kept an eye out. Daryl made you take the tent, he said he'd sleep outside with the dog, and that bothered you a bit.

Daryl was always so mean to you, literally telling you he wished you would fall off a cliff yet he gives you the tent? Maybe you were reading too deep into it, trying everything to believe your lie that he had an ounce of care for you in him. But that was odd behavior for someone like Daryl, especially towards you. That's why you think you can't sleep, not only did Daryl make you want to bawl your eyes out with how mean he was but also you were so confused about your own feelings.

You wanted to hate Daryl, you said you did but really you didn't. Every mean thing he said to you should've been enough for anyone to hate another person, but you simply couldn't. You wanted him to like you, you craved it. Every time you tried to be nice or help him with something, you felt like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy. It was exhausting, but so frustrating. This behavior of his only created a fire in your belly, leaking out of your core.

The frustration of the day could only be dulled in one way, the warmth of your two fingers. It was a nightly ritual at this point, I mean at least Daryl's behavior is beneficial in one way right? But you couldn't do it in this tent that felt so suffocating, with Daryl's scent everywhere and his soft blanket against your bare thighs. No, you couldn't. It was gross, almost disgusting to do such a thing, especially for you.

You finally gave up on sleep, pulling your shorts back on and heading out of the tent. The wind hit you first, then the smoke of the fire, and then the eyes of Daryl. He looked already so annoyed, like just your presence was enough for him to be in a shitty mood. You smiled at him, pulling your jacket closer to your body as you sat down on the log in front of him.

"Couldn't sleep..." You whispered, sighing as you looked deep into other fires.

Daryl didn't make an expression towards that, only the same annoyed expression. Daryl couldn't help but watch your thighs out of the corner of his eye, watching them glow in the fire, making them look completely delicious. He tried to focus on keeping the fire alive but the hardening in his pants was almost impossible to ignore. He's never really had alone time with you, not one on one before, there was always another person so this was new to him. Honestly even more annoying like this because he could only imagine fucking you into the dirty ground, not able to escape these thoughts by annoying someone else.

"And why's that my problem?" He snapped back, his voice thick with tiredness and frustration.

You scoffed, looking at him with disbelief as your heart broke a little more. You were now at peak frustration and extremely exhausted, so you weren't going to just sit there and let it happen... not this time. You shook with anger, the wind doing nothing to cool you down. You just wanted to have a nice conversation with him, social interaction that you desperately needed from a day of being consumed by your own thoughts.

"You are such a dick you know that?" You spit out, your arms throwing themselves up as you let your anger out finally. "Jesus! I can't have one fucking conversation without you being such an asshole."

Daryl's blood goes cold, looking over at you as your eyes start tearing up due to your anger. He's never seen you so angry, he's never known that you cry when you get mad, he finds it... attractive. It makes his mind wander to what else makes you cry. Is there any emotion you feel too much? Do you cry? Or is this situation just that distressing to you? Daryl just stayed silent, finding it almost humorous how you actually cared what he thought and how worked up you were getting over it. You waited for a snarky reply or a cold comment about how annoying you were, but you were met with his cold blue eyes boring into your skin. That was it, that was enough to make you decide to pack up your stuff and get the hell out of there.

"Oh my fucking god... fuck you, Daryl, I mean seriously." You shot up from where you had been sitting and stood above him, the fire illuminating your furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. "I mean are you fucking kidding me?!? why do you hate me? did I do something or are you just that fucking mean?"

Daryl stared up at you, watching you shiver as the wind hit your bare legs. Daryl asked himself that a lot too, why did he hate you? You really did do nothing to him, you were honestly extremely helpful and probably the kindest person he'd ever met. But that made him so upset. The innocence that radiated off of you, the pureness in your eyes, almost as if the world hadn't gotten to you yet. He found it unfair, how you were who you were in this world, it wasn't fair. The annoying sweetness that coated your voice was enough for him to go insane, he hated it.

That was only part of the hatred he felt for you, he wanted to completely defile you. He wanted to take that innocent little act of yours and fuck it out of you, he wanted to shut your silky soft voice up by fucking your voice box so hard it leave you speechless, wanted to crave scars into your skin as you begged him for more. He found these thoughts truly disgusting to even think, his own mind scolding him for letting the thoughts linger. He hated you for making him this crazy, making him so hard at night he couldn't be satisfied with his own hand he had to have you... so now he sat there looking up at you, watching as tears filled your eyes and your bare thighs were exposed.

Daryl grinned at your reaction, slowly standing up so he was towering over you. You looked scared, eyes filled with worry now as he made his way over to you. He was face to face with you now, you could feel his breath on his face and his eyes full of something... it wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, something in between yet not anywhere near.

"Ya' know, I do hate you Y/N" He says simply, making your bottom lip tremble as your tears finally escape your eyes. You knew it but it still hurt. "Ya' wanna know why or are you going to cry like the little bitch you are?"

His words took you back, this was a new all-time low for Daryl but for some reason, his words flew straight to your core and you had to press your legs together to ignore it. You stayed silent, not really knowing if you wanted to know or not but you had a feeling you had no choice. Daryl was going to tell you and all you could do was listen. You're breath hitched, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you watch him go to speak.

"I think yer stupid, and annoying, and a fucking worthless bitch who shouldn't have made it this far." His words shot bullet holes in your heart. "We shoulda left you where we found you. Ya bring no good into this group, you only hold us back."

You let out a sob, your heart quite literally being torn apart but you were still so needy all at once. You were used to mean, you were used to hurt but this felt nowhere close to what you've experienced before. You had gotten more frustrated simply because you still liked Daryl, you honestly would give anything for him to kiss you and it made your lips burn with need. It felt like your head was going to explode, being degraded and loving every second of it was something you never thought you would be thinking at this moment.

"Ya wanna know something else..." Daryl whispered, taking his hand and pushing your hair back out of your face as tears streamed down your face. He then lifted your chin to force you to look at him. "It's annoying how you act all innocent... prancing around in short shorts with your tits hanging out, acting like you aren't just trying to get fucked."

You look into his blue eyes, trembling as you feel his hand placed on your chin. You didn't realize how close you had gotten to him, how your body was almost pressed against his as he degraded you. You let a couple of soft whimpers out, feeling as Daryl wiped a tear away from your eye as he bites his lip.

"Ain't that right hm? All ya ever really wanted was to get fucked, just wanted to be used?" He spit out, you let out a soft moan as he continued to rest his hand on your chin, his heat filling your body. "want me to fuck ya?"

Your eyes widened, feeling like you were in a dream and you would wake up at any moment. You looked between his eyes and mouth as he spoke, his lips feeling like the only thing that could dull this heat inside of you. You nodded softly, biting your lip as you watched his mouth grow into a smirk. You expected him to place a soft kiss on your lips as he bent down to connect your lips, but you were met with a sharp pain in your left cheek. You gasped, not knowing what happened but then realized Daryl had smacked you. He didn't smack you too hard but it was enough to leave you in shock.

"wh..." You went to say but Daryl grabbed your throat roughly, it was a firm grip but not enough to hurt you.

"Use yer words... or are you too dumb for that?" He spits out, his words making your legs wobble slightly.

You felt lightheaded, you felt dizzy, you felt completely content in where you were right now. It was a crazy feeling, a feeling that was so intense it made you want to cry. You sniffled, clearing your throat so you could respond but the words were stuck in your throat. Daryl's eyes looked down on you with impatience, his teeth softly clenched as he waited for your words, the words he knew were hard for you to say.

"I...umm" You stuttered, lips quivering. "I want you.. to fuck me" You stated

Sex was new to you still, especially now since sex was the last thing on your mind half the time. This kind of sex, however, rough and mean sex was completely new to you. You weren't sure what to do or how to do it, do you mean back or do you just let it happen and enjoy the ride? You trusted Daryl though, no matter how mean he was to you, you still knew he wouldn't hurt you. Daryl smirked down at you, his rough hand still grasping onto your soft neck.

Daryl only knew hard sex, he'd never been in love or wanted to be in love so he was going to fuck you the only way he knew. He bent down to your lips, softly lingering above yours. You tried to reach up and touch his lips to yours but his hand on your neck kept you in place. Instead, he placed his lips on your nose, then your forehead then everywhere on your face but your lips. You were melting, just one kiss and you would be happy... you begged for just one kiss.

"How 'bout ya get in the tent hm?" He finally said after teasing you with his lips. "I'll be in, in a minute."

Daryl smirked down at you, letting go of your neck which was the only thing supporting your body right now. You looked surprised but also irritated as he teased you and not made you get into the tent. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped into the tent. Daryl chuckled as you pouted, watching you stomp your feet to the tent. Daryl turned around and finished his fire poking, keeping it heated, making you wait.

You were pouting in the tent, arms crossed as you waited for him to come in. You couldn't sit still, you pressed your thighs together and tried to touch yourself through your jeans but nothing helped the ache. You were suddenly so hot, feeling like your skin was melting off in the small tent so you decided to take your shirt off and let the cool air consume it. You slowly started to tear each of your clothes off until you were only in your underwear and bra, you were about to take your bra off but Daryl had ripped through the tent and saw you. He was taken aback as he saw your bare body, not expecting it and it made him crazy.

You sat there like a deer in headlights as he stared down at you, hands suddenly laying at your thighs as you were just on your knees. Daryl's hand shook, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you already but he wanted to wait... he needed to wait. He got down on your level, the tent too small for him to stand in. He reached his hand out to your shoulder, placing his hand on it and slowly pulling down your bra strap. His touch made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin as he slowly undressed you or undressed what you had on still.

"You might be dumb..." He stated, bring his lips to your neck. "But you sure are fucking sexy..."

He then attacked your neck, giving you sloppy kisses on your skin as you softly moaned at his action. His other hand placed on your older shoulder and ripped your other bra strap down, attacking that side of your neck next. Your hands wandered his body, trying to pull him closer to you as you wanted him to touch you further. His soft lips sucked on your sensitive skin, making you squirm underneath his grasp.

"mm.. fuck.." You moaned out, causing Daryl to go crazy. He couldn't hold back himself anymore, he couldn't tease you or degrade you anymore. He needed you.

"Fuck it..." Daryl said, stopping his movements and lying down on his back.

You watched him wide as, watching as he pulled his pants down to his ankles and how his cock sprang out freely. Your mouth watered almost, wanting nothing more than to such him off and watch him unravel on your tongue. Daryl rubbed himself a bit, trying to have some friction while he waited for you. You forgot what you were doing at first, you're mind completely going blank as you watched him touch himself.

You were slightly worried, Daryl was big... a lot bigger than you thought he would be. You felt a bit nervous about how’d he fit, you were quite small, well at least a lot smaller than Daryl. Daryl continued rubbing himself up and down, watching you shiver at the thought of him being inside you. He could see how nervous you had gotten, how shy you had suddenly become as your thighs squeezed together.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to his blue eyes. "We can stop, pretend this didn't happen." He reassures, placing a hand on your arm comfortably.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body on top of his. You replaced his hand with your own as you slowly jerked him off, watching his mouth part open in surprise as you did so. Your sudden confidence was a huge turn-on for Daryl, causing him to become unbelievably hard under your grasp. This is what Daryl wanted from you, he wanted you to stop acting innocent and take what you wanted. You were meek and shy, you simply doing this was so out of character.

"You want me to stop?" You ask, watching Daryl grow harder as you stroked his cock up and down.

Daryl shot you a soft smile, pulling you down to connect your lips to his. It was hard, rough, and filled with passion. The feeling of your hand on his cock, the taste of your lips, and the feeling of your weight on top of him. He needed you, needed to see you bouncing on top of him as he ripped you open. He wanted to see the pain and pleasure wash over you until you went as crazy as he is at this moment, he would give the world just to see it.

"Fuck no... god..." He moaned out, as your hand's pace picked up. "Ride my cock sweet girl... wanna see how dirty you can get." He teased me.

You giggled at his words, but they went all to your core at once. A wave of slick escaped your cunt, dripping over Daryl's thighs. You gave into his needs, but you did it ever so carefully. You moved your waist to hover over his throbbing cock, his tip ever so slightly rubbing between your slit. You teased him slightly, almost putting his tip inside you but slipping it out once again. You could tell he was growing frustrated, you can see him hold back his urge to push you down on his cock. You could get off on this, his head softly massaging your cunt and his thrust up when it had reached your clit. You continued this movement, teasing him softly but in reality, it felt too good for you.

"Gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep it up..." He moaned out, moving his hands to your hips. His hands helped you move your body back and forth, the head of his cock nuzzling between your slits.

"feels so good..." You whisper, biting your lip softly. "The least you can do for being an a..." You forgot who you were with, the person who never lets you finish your sentence.

You were cut off by Daryl taking your hips, pushing them down until his cock was damn near bottomed out inside you. You let out a gasp, hunching over so your nails were dug into his chest. It hurt, it felt like you were being ripped open... but it sent a strange pain throughout your body. Inside of rejecting his cock, your body welcomed it, almost as if it's what you needed this entire time. You shook slightly, the head of his cock already hitting your g spot as you stayed still. Your body was still getting used to it, but every bone of your body craved you to move your hips. Daryl chuckled softly as your eyes prickled with tears and your string of curses filled the tent.

"Told ya... dumb slut never listens" Daryl spit out, sitting up so your hands could balance on his shoulders.

He didn't give you time to say anything else, he took it upon himself to help you get used to him. He thrusted his hips up, creating more pain/pleasure that coursed through your body. It was a delicious stink, creating screams like moans that flowed off your tongue. His hips started off slow, obviously not that much of an asshole to completely overwhelm your senses. He placed one hand on our waist, going between hard thrusts and rolling his hips to try to ease the sting.

After a few thrusts though, you get used to his cock stuffing your cunt and you feel yourself getting eager. You start to move your hips a little with his, your hips going against his own hips because you were so cock hungry you couldn't help yourself. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving moon-shaped cuts along them. Your head threw itself back, letting Daryl fuck you harshly as you just enjoyed the ride. You would be surprised if your moans didn't attract walkers or raiders... they were almost screams at this point.

"Gonna fuck the dumb slut out of you... huh?" He started, moving his hand up to your hair and pulling it down to look at him. "Ain't that right... gonna fuck this pussy until that stupid little brain of yours start working.."

His hand in your hair forced you to look at him, his eyes blown out as he fucked your cunt so harshly, you couldn't help but drool. You shook slightly, something inside you snapped as you watched him huff and puff. Your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, they start rolling against his roughly, your eyes on his the entire time as you fuck yourself on his cock. You couldn't help it, your stomach burned and your cunt ached as you so badly wanted to get off. Your thrusts were rough, overpowering daryls at this point.

Daryl was taken back by this action, his hips starting to slow down as you created your own pace and your own way of fucking him. Daryl's hands rested on your hips though, helping you set a pace that felt good for the both of you but also let you take complete control. He never knew how pretty you could be, I mean of course he thought you were hot as fuck but he would never describe you as pretty... until now. The way you took him deep inside of you, the way your cunt clenched around him... maybe those were factors of why his view of you changed but maybe it went further than that.

Your thighs burned, your cunt ached, and your frustration grew. You so desperately wanted to get off, so your thrust was all over the place. You would start harder and deeper then your stamina would weaken, your thrusts turning slow and drawn out. It felt like it was happening on a loop, your frustration getting the best of you. Daryl's hands do a decent job setting your pace, but not enough to actually do anything. Daryl enjoyed this though, watching your frustration grow as you greedily tried to get off.

"Fuck... Daryl..." You groaned out, you couldn't even form words at this point. His cock hitting so deep inside you, it affects your speech. "please... I can't..."

Daryl grinned, hearing your pleas but basking in them. He brushed your hair from your face, loving the sight of your tears flowing down your face due to frustration and pleasure. He watched as you glistened in the moonlight, your skin beet red and your body soaked with sweat. Your hips slowed, still rocking back and forth but the pain in your hips felt unbearable now. You gave Daryl a pleading look, hoping he'd just be nice to you and give you what you wanted.

Daryl wasn't nice though, you knew this when you came into this. Daryl had disgusting things in mind for you, things that would leave you bruised and bloody. Daryl didn't know what nice was, especially when it came to fucking a "dumb slut". You fluttered your eyes at Daryl, your eyes telling him everything you wanted from him.

"What?" He asked, acting completely oblivious to what you wanted. "Can the dumb slut not get herself off? hmm..." He teased me.

You gulped down a comeback, afraid if you do he won't give you what you want. Daryl grinned, taking the hand in your hair and slowly moving it to your throat until it was wrapped around it. He gripped it hard, bringing your face down to meet him as he applied pressure to it.

"You are really that fucking stupid huh... Jesus christ." He spit out, watching you squirm above him, his cock still nestled deep inside you. "Fucking useless.."

You loved every second of his torment, of his degradation, of his anger. In one swift moment, Daryl threw you down onto the rough tent floor. You moaned softly, his cock being yanked out of your mouth and leaving you empty. Daryl wasn't done, he grabbed you roughly and set you on your hands and knees.

"I gotta do everything for you... too fucking stupid to do anything for yourself." He said, pushing your back down as he held your ass up. "Can't even ride a fucking cock right..."

Daryl rubbed your ass gently, watching you grip the blanket that was laid down for a makeshift bed. He dragged his fingers down your slit, feeling your throbbing cunt but dragging them back up to your ass. He could get off right now, cumming all over your back and drenching you with cum, seeing you like this just did that to him. He laid his hand flat down on your ass, putting it back high and then slamming it down on your bare ass.

You gasped, being shot forward as he spanked you. You weren't expecting it, the pain of the smack shooting through your veins and suddenly you wanted him to do it again. Never in your sexual life have you ever been spanked or slapped or degraded, it was something you could get used to. Daryl placed his hand on the red print on your ass, rubbing it softly as he watched your reaction to it. He knew it was foreign to you and he wanted to make sure you didn't have any objections to what he was doing. He leaned down slowly, kissing behind your ear and whispering into your ear.

"Are ya' still okay? We can stop now..." He wanted to hurt you but in the most pleasant and consensual way.

You took a minute to get a response, not because you had any second thoughts about what was happening. No, the silence was because you knew this would change you forever. This wouldn't just be a crush anymore, it would be more real. Even if Daryl just wanted a quick fuck, you would look at him differently whether you wanted to or not. If he did just want a quick fuck, you would feel as though you have been led on... because you did like him, and if that's all he wanted then it would break your heart. You look up at Daryl, watching as he gives you soft kisses on your back and neck. Fuck it...

"Again...." You whispered out, his eyes surprised you even said anything. He thought he was being too much, that he was going too far. He had no idea you were enjoying this as much as he did...

You felt too good right now for him to stop now, your stomach completely tensed up and your cunt fluttered around nothing. You needed him in the most disgusting way possible Daryl didn't see a single twinkle of doubt in your eyes, you knew what you wanted and you wanted him to give it to you. Daryl smiled at you, not a shit-eating grin or that stupid smirk... an actual smile.

Daryl raised the hand on your ass again, bringing it down roughly on your ass. You shot forward again, feeling your cunt tighten around nothing once more. Daryl waited once again for you to come back to him before he did it once more. The smacks got faster and harder, each one sending more amounts of pleasure through your body and bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans only fueled the fire in the diary, wanting nothing more than to completely destroy you.

After a couple more smacks, Daryl lined himself up behind you. This time he would be a bit nicer, slowly inching himself in and letting your tight cunt adjust to him. He watched your mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping onto anything they could find. Daryl rubbed your back with his free hand, slowly pushing himself into you until he was completely inside of you. Each inch you took made your eyes roll into your eyes and your toes curl.

Daryl started his thrusts slowly, watched you come undone on his cock already and he was just getting started. He watched as the coil in your stomach snapped and felt it when your walls fluttered around him, your liquid coating his cock. He fucked you through your first orgasm, picking up his pace when you couldn't feel your cunt flutter around his cock anymore. Daryl was Edgar to cum but also to make you cum over and over until you couldn't say anything else but his name.

"Fuck... such a tight fucking pussy..." He moaned out, grabbing your hips and shoving them down on his cock. "Could fuck this thing all day.... use you like my own fucktoy."

You could feel another wave of pleasure hit you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. Daryl was rough with his thrust now, shoving himself into you before pulling all the way back and then slamming back in. It felt so good, making your entire body feel like it was on fire in the most pleasant way. Suddenly, not even 2 minutes after your first orgasm... You felt the coil snap once again, soaking Daryl's cock for a second time.

Daryl didn't slow down, just went harder as you screamed out as you came... hard. He gripped your hips roughly, leaving bruises on them most likely. You went completely limp, allowing him to use you exactly in the way he wanted to. You were exhausted, after two orgasms only minutes away from each other and working on your third one...You were completely worn out and wanting nothing more than another orgasm. Daryl watched you go limp, your ass having to be held up by him now.

"Come on baby...." He moaned, grabbing your arms and pulling you flush against him. "Gonna make me cum... gonna cum all over that fucking pretty ass of yours..."

His words only make your cunt tighten around his cock. You were standing on your knees in front of him, your knees digging into the tent floor as your head leaned back on his shoulder. You looked up at him with tired eyes, face bright red and your eyes leaking tears. You watched his face contort every time he thrusted, his lip being brought between his teeth and his eyes fluttering closed. He was beautiful, every muscle of his stomach placed on your back, his cock deep inside you, and his face looked to be sculpted by gods themselves.

Daryl's moans got louder, his cock twitched slightly and you could feel he was close just by the way he gripped onto your arms. You tried your best to fuck yourself back onto him as his thrusts became sloppy, wanting to fuck him through his own orgasm. Daryl was so close, his bruising grip on your arms as he pulled you closer and closer to him. You were right there next to him, your third orgasm already coursing through your stomach as you so desperately tried to help get you both off.

"daryl..." was the only thing you could get out, the other dirty words you had in mind getting lost in your throat as a particularly harsh thrust caused the coil in your stomach to burst open.

You shook violently as you came once again on his cock but you could only enjoy it for only seconds before Daryl let go of your arms, causing you to fall harshly onto the tent floor. You groaned, your orgasm still coursing through your body as you felt the ache of being dropped on the floor. You looked back to see why Daryl had done what he did, seeing that he was stroking his cock roughly. You watched as he came on your ass and back, his O face looking like something from your dreams.

You couldn't be mad now, not that you were able to see him in his high. When he finished covering you in his cum, he collapsed next to you. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon and all you could do was watch him in awe. You would touch yourself to the thought of him, but nothing could've prepared you for how pretty he looked while doing it. He was on another planet at this moment, not even in this world as he recovered from his orgasm.

"fuck..." He said, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion. "You're gonna be a problem..."

Daryl knew he shouldn't have done this, he should've just let you leave.... he should've just told you to leave in the first place. He knew once he had you vulnerable, ass up and ready for him to fuck you... he wouldn't be able to resist. He knew you'd become like a drug to him, he wanted to continue to hate you and live both of your lives separately, away from each other. There was just something about you, something about you that not only made his cock twitch but his heart. He always had a soft spot for you, he hated it.

You were still on your knees, back covered in his cum and the top half of you smushed against the ground. You just watched him come down from his high, not responding to him as he slowly came to his senses. Daryl looks back over at you, seeing you in a very uncomfortable position and sticky...

"Here..." He said, sitting up and finding a discarded rag that was always in his tent.

You slowly sat up on your knees, taking the rag he had handed to you. You smiled, nodding softly as to thank him simply because your voice box was damn near broken from screaming. You reached behind you, taking the rag and wiping him off of you. Daryl started getting some blankets together to make a bed for the both of you, hoping that wasn't crossing a line for you... as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of you. You struggled to get the entirety of your back, Daryl noticed this as he was setting down blankets.

Without saying a word, Daryl took the rag from you and gently wiped your back off. You hummed softly as he did so, the warmth of his hands making you feel giddy once again. You wanted to say something, anything just to get him talking again. His voice always makes you feel right at home, even if most of the time he was a dickhead to you.

"You know.." You said, voice coming out as a whisper. "I've never done something like this before..."

You looked back at him, his eyes focused on your back as he tried to make sure you were cleaned all the way off. Daryl knew, he knew you were the innocent type, that's why he was so intrigued with you. He smirked softly up at you, seeing how messy your hair was and how your tears were now stained on your face created a deep lust inside of him.

"I know..." He responded, going back to cleaning your back.

"You know?" You asked, knowing you looked innocent but how could he tell you haven't been railed like this before?

Daryl chuckled softly, throwing the rag somewhere in the room when he was done and then smacking your thigh softly to tell you to move yourself. You did what he wanted, sitting on your butt as you watched what he wanted you to do next. Daryl bit his lip, tossing you one of his shirts that was going to be big on you. You assumed he wanted it for you.

"You never do what you're told... Lay down." He started, watching you lay down like he told you to do. He smirked softly before continuing. "and you have only been with skinny 20-year-olds who probably went to some college for rich assholes.."

Daryl pulls his own clothes on before lying down next to you. He wrapped a blanket around the two of you, letting you lay on his chest as he did so. What Daryl was saying was very true, you had never been with a man his age or really any man that acted like him. You weren't the adventurous type, you were okay with vanilla sex and scheduled quickies. It was easy that way, easier to explain the age gap, and easier to digest the PDA. You didn't know if you could go back to that now, after 3 mind-blowing orgasms and the delicious size of Daryl... you could see yourself chasing this for the rest of your life.

"Maybe... I'd like to... uh..." You started, sighing softly. "I'd like to do this again though... I think I want to do it with you many times."

Your words felt jumbled, not making any sense. Daryl knew though, he knew what you were saying even if your words felt confusing. Daryl rubbed your arm softly with his thumb, thinking about what a life with you would be like. Waking up every day to a naked young woman in his bed, soft skin, and doe eyes for the rest of his existence with you... Even if he could only have you in the bedroom, he would move the sun and stars just for it. He nodded softly, looking back down at you as you lulled yourself to sleep on his chest.

"Yeah... think I'd like that too," he whispered.

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