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moonydustx · 2 months

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A not so funny story

requests | mastelist

Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

#one piece #op imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #no use of y/n #fiction #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #requests open #one piece film red #heart pirates

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moongreenlight · 2 months

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More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

#he is rotting my brain from the inside out I need him carnally #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #gaz smut #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #cbf!gaz

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neptuneiris · 9 months

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detachment (03/03)

with detachment, we see our mistakes honestly, make amends and start afresh.

pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader

summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.

word count: 8.5k

previous part • series masterlist

thank you so much for joining me and giving your support to this short story. there will be no epilogue, this is the end, so i hope you enjoy it very much, love you all. see you in the next stories🥺❤

"You look too happy, my Lady."

"I say the same of you, my Lord."

Lord Cregan smiles softly in your direction, without both stopping dancing and without ceasing to be the center of attention of some of the nobles still remaining in their seats and your family as well.

Even though there are more people around you both also dancing, the center of the huge Room gradually adding of more people to dance, still you feel many attentive looks on you and your betrothed.

"Well, we would draw a lot of attention if we weren't dancing and smiling, my princess. This is all in our honor."

You smile, lowering your gaze for a moment.

"Well… then I must say you are an excellent dancing partner."

"You too, my princess," he smiles at you, "Although, to be honest with each other, this is actually costing me a bit… feeling a lot of eyes on me," he confesses to you honestly, without wiping the small smile from his lips, "Especially when I feel like they're burning my skin at the moment."

At that moment you don't need explanations. You know Lord Stark means him.

"I apologize for that," you say apologetically.

"No, it's all right," he assures you, "It's a bit intimidating, too much actually, considering the prince's reputation in combat. But in a way… I understand what he must be going through."

This catches your attention, at once watching him intently and curious.

"You shouldn't," you make it clear to him, serious, "This is our wedding, you don't have to feel sorry for him. From what I told you when you went to Dragonstone, remember he has no right, he was the one who cancelled our betrothal."

"Honestly, my princess… I wouldn't be surprised if at some point in the night you disappeared and left me."

You lower your gaze, deep inside you a few moons ago you probably would have wished for that, for Aemond to arrive at any moment, take you away and wed you. But now… this is a duty.

It's not like that's really going to happen either, not now when everything is already happening. He is present, yes, but it's all in the past and he's getting wed soon too.

"I can say the same for you, my Lord," you say a little amused, "I too feel a certain… intimidating stare."

He smiles softly and denies with his head.

"No. I would never do anything like that to you, princess."

"But do you love her or not?"

"I shouldn't answer you something like that, princess. It would be disrespectful when you are my betrothed, not her."

"No," you gently shake your head, "It is all right, my Lord. It is my wish for you to be honest with me, believe me I do not mind," you assure him, "Besides, I think I know the answer from what you also told me on your visit to my home."

"Well," he looks a little apologetic, "Yes, of course I love her. But I realized it too late. Had I known sooner, I would have married her in an instant."

You can't smile, especially knowing that both you and Lord Stark have someone else in your hearts and yet the two of you are here about to be wed.

Unconsciously your gaze wanders to Lady Alysanne Blackwood who is seated at one of the tables with a glass of wine in her hand, staring into oblivion and quickly identifying her sad face which she is trying to hide.

And you know this because you were also doing the same thing and feeling the same way.

"Have you spoken to her, my Lord?"

You turn your gaze to Lord Stark, asking him softly.

"She said she is happy for me and wishes me a loving and pleasing marriage," he tells you also trying to hide his pain on his face and in his tone, avoiding looking to where Lady Blackwood is now sitting.

"I'm very sorry."

"No princess, you had nothing to do with it," he assures you instantly, "You don't have to apologize and feel responsible, just as I have nothing to do with what happened between you and your uncle."

"Then why do I feel that if my uncle or I finally do something about our union, you'd be all right with it?" you ask him curiously, "You wouldn't be upset and turn on my family if I leave and make a fool of you after so much?"

"Well…" he thinks about it for a moment, " I would feel a little humiliated? Yes. But to be honest, if I were him and I was seeing the woman I love marrying someone else… I would wish things in my favor and no matter what, I would take her away from here and marry her in a heartbeat."

"That is what you would do even for when we are already in these circumstances and everyone expects us to marry soon?"

Lord Cregan looks at you with a small amused smile and a somewhat questioning look.

"Are you trying to say that's what you would do, my princess?"

"I spoke in supposition, my Lord," you explain, "What if we were in other circumstances. As for instance that this wedding is happening against my will, with a person I do not wish to marry and where…. the person I love also loves me."

"Princess, it is improper what I will say and it is not gentlemanly of me, especially since I truly mean no disrespect—

"It's all right," you assure him again softly, "Speak freely, my Lord."

"Well… since you put it that way and apparently we're both on the same page… yes," he confesses with a soft look, "I would too."

You frown slightly.

"But I never said I—

"It doesn't need to be said and I know I don't know you too well, my princess. But I know you would too."

He smiles softly at you, as you watch him silently, saying absolutely nothing, thinking about his words.

"I have heard the stories of your mother and father. All of them have come to the North, very interesting stories and captivating to more than one, I must say. And knowing that same blood runs through your veins…I am already prepared for whatever you decide to do."

"I am already prepared for whatever you decide to do."

That repeats constantly in your mind, saying nothing for a few seconds as you continue to dance to the music and the specific choreography while Lord Stark follows your same step at all times, as do the other nobles around you.

But truly… what would you do?

Nothing. Just do your duty. And your duty is this.

Between you and Aemond there is nothing anymore. It's not as if at any moment you're going to run away with him, running away from your responsibilities, because you know he won't do anything and certainly you won't do anything either.

It's all said and done, he's getting married, you're getting married and what you once had, that love that existed is gone. And even though the stories of your mother and father still live on… you and Aemond are not like them.

Right?

"No need to worry about that, my Lord," you tell him as you both continue to dance, "You and I, that is what is happening now. He's betrothed too and there's nothing left of what we once was."

"I would not be so sure about that, princess."

You look at him confused.

"Why not?"

"I know the nature of the man. And knowing his father, Prince Daemon, a man who has my full admiration and respect, his nephew, Prince Aemond must be just like him. Besides, he would be a fool not to be acting now that the woman he loves is marrying someone else."

You deny with your head, understanding the point about your father, who also acted at one time with your mother at her wedding to your father Sr. Laenor, but he in the end did nothing about it.

And Aemond… is completely different.

Your father didn't break your mother's heart in the worst possible way, leaving her without explanation, much less just when both of them were already about to get married and have everything.

And about finally acting when the woman he loves is marrying someone else… it's something you don't fully understand.

"It's selfish, dont you think?"

"All men are selfish, I include myself. But the decision is always up to you, the woman I love and all women," he assures you with a soft smile, "Now…." he makes you both stop dancing, holding your hand delicately, " I will know your decision soon, princess. I'll be here waiting."

Confusion begins to overtake you, not understanding anything.

"What do you mean, my Lord?"

He does not answer you, on the contrary, he places his gaze over your shoulder, looking at something or someone specific, barely giving you time to react, because at that moment Aemond appears between the two of you, placing one of his hands on Lord Stark's shoulder.

"May I, Sr. Cregan?"

This immediately catches your attention, as Aemond keeps his attention on lord Stark, who watches you for a few seconds and then nods in his direction.

"Of course, my prince."

All the other people around you continue to dance, as lord Stark begins to walk away to disappear among all the people… and you watch Aemond without expression really, even more without understanding anything.

And when he looks at you, it's like reliving all those moments, all those moments where you both shared kisses, caresses and those promises of love, also all those moments when you were children.

However… he says nothing and simply places now his hand on your lower back to start guiding you towards the center of the Room, you walking too instantly, both of you making your way through all the people dancing.

Nerves invade you, especially because this is the first time you are in front of him after everything that happened, taking into account that you ignored his request about meeting on the island, although he has it more in mind than you.

But everything happens too fast.

You are completely oblivious to the looks that Otto Hightower and Queen Alicent are giving you both, while your mother and father don't seem annoyed like the previous ones mentioned, but rather curious and expectant.

While Aegon… he couldn't be having more fun with the moment, especially delighting in his little brother's audacity and his mother's and grandsire furious stares, especially his grandsire.

Aemond glances sideways towards the table, or towards his grandsire specifically, being very aware that he is being watched. But honestly he couldn't care less.

He's had enough. And he doesn't care that this isn't what they expected of him or that it will lead to serious consequences later, he doesn't care anymore… because he will finally make things right.

"This is what you want?"

Is the first thing he says to you once he has your attention in High Valyrian, both of you being surrounded by all the people dancing to the music, while he and you remain in the middle of it all, standing in front of each other, your attentions on each other.

And his question bothers you, because it is certainly not what you expected to hear from him after so many moons apart and in which he never once explained anything to you when you needed it most.

He simply questions you about your marriage, his serious look on you, while you answer him with the same attitude and manner.

"It's none of your concern what I want, uncle. It's not like you'll care either, just like I don't care what you have to say about my wedding either."

Uncle, not Aemond, just…uncle.

All your words anger him, instantly watching you with such intensity and with his jaw clenched, leaning more towards you with that defiant look.

Then you answer him in the same way, watching him with your chin up and your serious, determined look.

"The man from the North is a good and noble man who will drive you to boredom even before you both say your vows before the Seven, so tell me niece….. do you really think he deserves you?"

"Don't tell me, uncle. Now you're going to say you're the one who deserves me?"

Aemond clenches his jaw tighter.

"You didn't let me explain."

"It was too late for your explanations, don't you think?"

"I waited for you and you never came."

"Well, now you know what it feels like to be left without explanation," you tell him in a bitter, serious tone, "Not to mention that I had to hear the news of your new betrothal afterwards."

Aemond does not take his gaze away from you for a second, not even caring that you are in public and in the open view of other people, especially his family, because at that moment for him… it is only you.

And honestly… you don't care either.

You had been waiting for this moment, nothing feeling more than satisfying than paying back the man who supposedly loved you in the same way, making him feel what you felt.

"Perhaps you would understand why I did it if you would let me explain," he tells you serious.

"No," you tell him serious and annoyed, "Your explanations I needed to hear when you broke me and left me. Not now that you're finally acting when my wedding to another man who isn't you is happening."

He watches you completely serious and attentive, while you are being more than firm with your attitude and your words, even defiant.

"So if you will excuse me… I have to find my betrothed."

Putting the matter to an end, you turn around and start walking away from him, trying to make your way through all the people around dancing.

But it's barely three steps that you advance when Aemond stops you by the arm and makes you turn on your own axis to be face to face with him again.

And Gods… he is furious.

Again you watch him defiantly, more by the fact that he holds you by the waist and pulls you completely to him, bringing another of his hands to your cheek, preventing you from running away from him again, while you watch him seriously and in expectation of his next move.

But he's not mad at the fact that you won't let him explain himself, but at your words, your betrothed.

"First I'm going to burn everything to the ground before you have a chance to marry that fucking northern man," he warns you mumbling under his breath, their faces mere inches apart.

You try to pull away from him, but he only makes his grip on your waist tighter and his grip on your cheek tighter, watching your whole face, your precious face with possession and desire, watching your lips between parted as your gaze also watches his, reprimanding yourself.

"Let me go. People are watching us."

"Then let them see," he says without a care in the world, his gaze possessive and dominant, "Let them see who you truly belong to."

You press your lips together, upset.

"You are so selfish."

"When it comes to you…you don't have a fucking idea. And I'm not going to let you go."

At that moment, both of them are indeed getting attention, but not from the noble people, but from their families.

Otto Hightower clenches his hands into fists and squeezes them tightly with a deathly stare, while Queen Alicent watches the scene in disbelief, not having the slightest idea how to fix her son's behavior.

But Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon... are only anticipating what will come next.

"If you don't let go of me I'm going to scream," you warn him between your teeth.

But at this, Aemond can only smile with a certain self-centeredness and satisfaction, as well as looking amused.

"Oh I would like to see you try, my love."

And then the next thing he does is to take you firmly by the arm and start dragging you towards the exit of the Throne Room, unnoticed among all the people dancing, while you try to put up resistance in an instant but with Aemond's strength it's impossible.

You think about screaming, as you told him you would, but causing a scandal would only be worse, so you let him lead you, who with quick steps makes sure no one follows and takes you away from all that absurd and boring feast.

But once you both leave the Room, that's when you can finally stop him and confront him.

"What are you doing!?"

"I want to explain," he insists serious.

"No!" you exclaim in annoyance, "I don't want you to explain anything! Can't you see that I can't leave my own feast? What is my betrothed going to think? And your betrothed too!?"

"I don't give a shit about your feast, your betrothed and my betrothed, now come," he says as he again puts pressure on your arm to continue to lead you away.

But you put up a resistance again.

"No! Let go of me, Aemond!"

"Don't make me repeat myself again, Y/N."

"This isn't fair!"

"Nothing is. Now stop resisting and walk," he tells you disinterested.

"You're so fucking selfish! You don't even have any idea what you really put me through and now you want to ruin my wedding because since you don't care, you think I must not care too!"

Aemond, starting to lose his patience, sighs and has no choice but to, without waiting for you, grab you and place you on his shoulder like a sack to start walking quickly away from there without further inconvenience.

"Aemond!" you exclaim in surprise and in horror.

"Are you going to behave now?"

"Put me down! Put me down this instant!"

"I don't want to."

"I have to go back! We're going to get in trouble because of you!"

"Too bad."

So the only smart thing you can think of at that moment is to keep complaining and trying to hurt him with your not so convincing closed fist punches, neither is squirming and making his job of carrying you difficult and unbearable, because simply nothing worked.

With your protests being further and further away from the Throne Room, with no one coming to your rescue, though if so they wouldn't stand a chance against Prince Aemond, he finally puts you on the ground as you enter one of the many balconies of the Keep.

"Seven fucking Hells, will you stop yelling already?"

"And what did you expect? You're taking me away from my own wedding!" you exclaim in anger.

"It's not your wedding Y/N!" he exclaims to you again serious and annoyed, "Do you really think I'm going to let you marry that fucking Stark?"

"And what about your betrothed?" you inquire instantly, incredulous, "You don't know that you can get us in trouble for this? Spare us the embarrassment, Aemond. My father must be looking for me by now and he'll put your head on a spike if he finds us."

"I don't care if your father finds us, neither does my grandsire, my mother or your betrothed," he tells you with a certain mocking, serious tone. "I don't care about any of this, Y/N. And I certainly don't care about my fucking betrothed because I'm not marrying her."

A smile and a disbelieving, absurd laugh escapes your lips, shaking your head.

"Yes, of course."

But the look Aemond gives you at that moment is a terribly honest and serious one in which he shows he's not in jest.

"I'm serious."

"Well, tell that to your grandsire," you tell him in a bitter tone, "I'm sure he'll kill you first before my father if you don't do what he or your mother tells you."

He lets out a long sigh, tearing his gaze away from yours for a moment, running one of his hands across his chin.

"Y/N—

"Why are you doing this?" you interrupt him seriously, annoyed, your skin burning and all the discomfort coursing through your body, "Why now that I am about to marry Lord Cregan? Why not before when you left me with no explanation and crying for you with the thought of your soon to be wedding to Lady Baratheon?"

"Nothing I did to you was my intention, Y/N," he implores you, earnest and honest, "Nothing was my choice, I never meant to end our betrothal."

"Then why?" you spit at him, "Is it that you don't want to see me marry someone else but I'm not going to marry you either?"

"Because the war will soon be upon us," he tells you in an instant, serious and seriously needing at that moment to explain himself, not wanting you to hate him more by listening to his reasons, "We all know that my father may die at any moment. And when that happens… the war between our families will begin."

You frown, shaking your head slightly.

"Now what are you talking about?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," he says taking a few more steps towards you, "Your mother is the Heir, we know that, but still… she is a woman and she will have a lot of people against her by the time comes."

"Many people or your mother and grandsire specifically?" you ask him expectantly.

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Aegon is the first born son, everyone will expect him to be the next King."

"Aegon is a fucking drunk who doesn't even care about the Throne, Aemond!"

You exclaim absurdly to him, sick of this.

"He has said countless times that he is not interested in the crown and does not want to rule, but it is your grandsire who keeps insisting and wanting to take total control of everything on his own whim and for his own ambition, denigrating my mother knowing very well that my grandsire has named her Heir and has never, not even consciously, said that he wishes Aegon to succeed him! " you tell him incredulously, "And not only him, your mother is also against mine, letting herself be led by everything your grandsire tells her."

"And what is going to happen when your mother sits on the Throne, hmm?" he inquires you as well, "She can order to kill me and all my family because of the pressure of the people by having not only one, but three sons of the King, where none succeeded the crown."

All the confusion invades your face instantly, staring at him in disbelief and as if you can't believe it for even him, Aemond Targaryen, being the intelligent man he is, to think such a thing, about to retort but he continues to speak.

"Do you really think that even so if we had married, your family and I would begin to get along?"

He inquires you, incredulously and your breath catches.

"It's not that I don't want to Y/N, it's that I can't. What kind of sister cares more about some supposed lies to a maimed eye? If she had no sympathy for me at the time, less will she have for when the people reveal themselves against her and she wants to secure her Throne."

"Seven Hells," you mutter incredulously.

"I know Aegon isn't cut out to rule, but at least with him on the Throne he secures my life, Helaena's, Daeron's and my niece and nephew's."

"So is the idea of me and my entire family being killed better?" you ask him bitterly, "All this nonsense is what your grandsire and mother have been telling you all this time? Turning you, my uncles and my aunt against your own sister? Don't you realize how sick with ambition and power that is? Is this why you canceled our betrothal?"

You don't need to hear the answer to that, you already know it. But he only confirms it when he doesn't say anything to you and with a sorrowful look, looks away from you for a moment, to which you don't know whether to laugh or cry.

You honestly can't believe it.

You knew that Otto Hightower hates your entire family but not with such fervor to the point of interfering in his own grandson's life, not giving him the chance to truly marry for love.

And destroying his thoughts about you and your mother for his own ideologies and for his own lust for power to put Aegon on the Throne.

Otto is even capable of turning all the common people against your mother out of envy, not only being enough to marry his only daughter to the king, taking advantage of the pain of others and securing his position even more.

You truly hate that man and also Alicent Hightower for letting himself get led and turn his children against his own sister with lies, being that she once loved your mother and yet was led by her father to hate her simply because of her freedom to be princess and being named by the king the Heir to the Throne.

"My mother has never, not even when she was named Heir and Aegon was born, thought in such a way about you."

You make it clear to her in a serious and more than offended voice.

"All she has wanted has been, even since you and I were children, to keep the peace between our families, even proposing to marry Jace to Hel and give you a dragon egg to you, but your mother turned her down at every opportunity because of your grandsire disgusting ideas."

You tell him annoyed, serious.

"She couldn't even recently stand the thought of marrying you to me, blinded by hatred and feeding you too that same hatred to hate her. And I understand what happened years ago, I understand that my mother is not to your liking, but she truly regrets having acted as she did in understanding your mother's position, she being the first to support us with our betrothal," you remind him in a bitter tone.

Aemond watches you completely attentively, without saying anything, with his lips pressed together.

"So tell me Aemond…. if she really plans to kill you and your entire family, then why would she go to the effort of uniting our families and supporting our betrothal?" you inquire, "Do you think it's all a strategy? Because I assure you that my mother with all she has to deal with in Court, being judged at every turn for being a woman, especially by your grandsire, would not waste herself with all those attempts to ultimately become a kinslayer."

And then… Aemond feels as if a huge weight has fallen on his stomach, leaving him for a moment without air.

He continues to watch you with a expressionless gaze, when inside he is thinking completely about your words, while you watch him firmly for your words, knowing perfectly well that you are right.

And that's the truth, Aemond also thinks you are right.

Kinslayer.

A sin.

A word and an action that makes you a disgrace to the entire Targaryen dynasty. A curse to your name and in which you will be remembered forever, as Visenya Targaryen was once called, though this is only a supposition.

But this word Aemond knows really well, as do you from the stories. And considering your mother's position and the one who will become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you know that your mother could never be called that if she is truly committed to her reign.

And she is, you know your mother really is and Aemond knows it too, despite how much that makes him furious, but for his grandsire and his mother's ideas, reminding him that then Lucerys inherits all of Driftmark and he... inherits nothing.

Or at least, now he inherits nothing.

For had he married you, you being the second born daughter of the Heir, Dragonstone is your castle and that would have been home to both of you.

Aemond considers that Rhaenyra can probably have them killed… accidentally as well.

But you… seeing you now in front of him after so many moons apart and after all that happened, he still trusts you and really believes in what you have told him.

What purpose would Rhaenyra really have had in marrying her daughter to her half-brother and then killing him? It doesn't make any sense.

And just as every mother cares for the happiness of her children, Aemond knows he was your happiness and your mother would never do that to you. And you… seeing that he says absolutely nothing to you, you can only watch him with a somewhat satisfied look, nodding slightly in his direction.

"That's what I thought," you mutter to him without much emotion.

And the next thing you do, you turn away from him and start heading towards the balcony exit to return to your feast, leaving him behind, assuming you've already said everything you wanted to say to each other. But again Aemond doesn't let you go so easily and stops you.

"I want to wed you."

And to your bad luck, you really can't put up any resistance and turn to him again, with a bitter look on your face and feeling again what it might have been when you heard his words.

"You were already going to wed me, remember?"

"All right, you're right,' he tells you serious, letting out a long sigh, "I should not have done what I did to you, I should not have listened to my grandsire words, nor should I have accepted my betrothal to the daughter of Lord Borros."

"It is too late now, Aemond."

"I'm not marrying her, Y/N."

"Oh and you're seriously going to go against your grandsire?" you inquire not really believing it.

"I don't fucking care about my grandsire, Y/N!" he insists annoyed, quickly heading towards you, "He can fuck himself as well as his alliance with Lord Borros, I really don't care about him and neither do I care about my mother. All I want, all I've ever wanted… is you."

You snort, turning your gaze away from him for a moment, to again stare at him incredulously.

"And what is going to happen when the King dies?"

You ask, expectantly.

"Now you know that my mother has never thought nor will she ever harm you, your brothers, let alone Hel or her children, besides she is the true Heir… who assures me that the first thing you will do is support the right side and not support the idea of usurping my mother?" you question him, "Do you think I want you and I to live at war too? That we will eventually start hating each other by supporting two different sides?

"And what do you want me to do, Y/N?" he asks you in the same way, "I understand about my brothers and Helaena, but who assures me that your mother won't go for mine's head? She is my mother after all, I can't leave her alone."

"She won't do anything to your mother, Aemond!" you exclaim in exasperation, "The two of them loved each other as children, my mother hasn't forgotten how much she held her in high esteem in spite of everything and you think she would dare to hurt her? Think Aemond and forget everything your grandsire has told you!" you exclaim, "It is your grandsire who is doing all this, separating us, creating rivalry and hatred, it is for him that my mother will go if he does something against her, not for anyone else."

You make it more than clear to him while Aemond says nothing for a few seconds, watching and listening to you attentively, to which you continue to watch him without understanding, to then let out a long sigh and deny with your head.

"Still none of this matters, I have to go back," you tell him without much emotion to resume your way.

But again Aemond reacts and stops you by taking you firmly by the arm as he turns you towards him and holds you by the waist.

He pulls you completely towards him, while he places another of his hands on your cheek and brings his face dangerously close to yours, surprising you by such closeness and stealing your breath.

"Aemond," you say in a whisper.

You show him that this is wrong, but he doesn't mind at all, on the contrary, he brings his face closer to yours.

His breath hits your face, watching you again with that possession and that desire, completely attentive to your face, your beautiful face, while you don't understand anything but you know that if you try to pull away, he won't let you.

Although again you feel all that you used to feel before when he was courting you, realizing that you have never really stopped feeling this way for him, scaring you and making you feel disappointed because again… you must do your duty and so must he.

However, you can't help but feel really desired by him, just like before, all these thoughts invading you as you want to be his, just as you also want him to be yours, watching his face and lips intently unconsciously, unable to resist.

But this is wrong, completely wrong.

"What do I have to do, Issa jorrāelagon, to put all this behind so that you will agree to marry me?"

He murmurs more than willing on your lips, not letting go of you for a second, not willing to let go of you for a second, being terribly honest with you, this immediately catching your attention and again stealing your breath.

But it's not just his words, it's him, everything about him.

His face, his figure, his grip on you, so fucking alluring and attractive, which is what you hate but at the same time is also your weakness of him.

And despite that, despite the fact that even though you don't want to, you're slowly giving in to him, yet you still have some willpower and you don't just think about yourself, you can still think about the other people there at the feast.

"I-I can't," you look at him sadly, "Cregan Sta—

"Y/N."

He stops you making your grip on your waist tighter and his gaze more determined, really not wanting you to talk about him and wanting you to focus right now, on you,

"Just tell me what I have to do and so I will do it. Just tell me."

He insists and you… hesitate.

You haven't the slightest idea what to do.

"If I were him and I was watching the woman I love marrying someone else… I would wish things in my favor and no matter what, I would take her away from here and marry her in a heartbeat."

You remember Lord Cregan's words, as you continue to watch Aemond in front of you intently.

"I am already prepared for whatever you choose to do."

"All men are selfish, I include myself. But the decision is always up to you, the woman I love and all women."

"I will know your decision soon, princess. I will be here waiting."

Basically Lord Cregan Stark… was understanding with you and will already be prepared… if you choose this.

If you choose Aemond too, in the same way he has already chosen you over his family and his betrothed.

Then you think of your family, your mother and father, who will probably be very disappointed in you if you do not return and marry Lord Cregan, losing a great and important alliance with the man who owns the whole North.

But you remember what your mother was willing to do many years ago, when she was in the same position as you are now with Aemond, who completely forgot about the alliance and thought of her, her happiness, by asking the man she really loves to steal her away and take her to Dragonstone to marry her.

Now, knowing the history of your ancestors, how some of them chose love over duty, why shouldn't you do the same?

"Let my mother know what your grandsire is planning, avoid war," you tell him finally, "Kneel to her and swear your sword to her if you truly love me and if you wish me to marry you now."

In other circumstances, Aemond would have thought you are asking too much of him, but now that you both already know the truth, you his and he your mother's through you, he understands your point and thinks it is fair.

And if this is what he has to do so that you are finally his and he can finally call you his wife, which is all he has ever wanted, then so he will.

"Anything else?"

He gently caresses your cheek with his thumb and you, knowing with that his response, knowing that this is what he will do, finally stop feeling tense and let yourself be completely led by him, leaning into his body and his touch, feeling how slowly that weight on your shoulders disappears.

Just as you also Aemond feels that guilt stop invading him and finally now that he has you, he feels safe, loved and at peace.

"Promise me you won't break my heart again," you murmur against his lips.

Aemond gently shakes his head, leaning down to leave soft kisses on your cheek, starting a little trail, making you let out a sigh and place your arms around his torso, finally feeling you too at peace, having really missed this.

"Never again," he finally murmurs in your ear, sending shivers throughout your body and sounding like a promise.

Everyone in the Throne Room begins to look uneasy when one of your guards that your mother sent to look for you returns and whispers in his and your father's ears that you have disappeared.

Immediately Princess Rhaenyra glances at Queen Alicent, who is already watching her and instantly understands what is happening, turning quickly to her father with an alarmed and worried face as they and in fact everyone at the table also notice the absence of Prince Aemond.

The fact of this news does not really go unnoticed as your father immediately orders his entire guard to search for you throughout the Keep, at the same time Otto Hightower also orders them to find his grandson.

Your brothers and sisters, as well as your mother have an idea of who you are with, considering he too is nowhere to be found.

While Princess Helaena in the center of the Room begins to hear the murmurs of all the nobles, especially the ladys as they watch the entire royal family curiously, wondering if the bride has disappeared, also watching Cregan Stark out of the corner of their eyes.

Cregan Stark also watches everyone around him curiously, as the news begins to spread quickly throughout the Room, earning the sorrowful glances of all the lords.

And when Cregan finally understands what is going on, just as he had told Princess Y/N, he was already prepared and immediately turns to look at Lady Alysanne, who looks at him in surprise and disbelief.

Prince Aegon continues to drink wine completely amused by the whole situation, really feeling proud of his brother, delighting in his grandsire's behavior and reaction.

Princess Rhaenyra rises from her seat and looks with her bewildered gaze at her husband, who watches her seriously but at the same time with a certain resignation.

"I told you this would happen," he tells her as everything continues to be chaos in the Room.

"Shall we go to them?"

Prince Daemon lets out a long breath, clutching Dark Sister's pommel that hangs at his hip.

"She and especially he better have a good excuse."

Your mother and father get the idea and are sure that's what you and Aemond are doing now and Alicent and Otto Hightower as well, feeling horrified at the idea compared to your parents.

But before Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra set off, it is first the duty of both of them to bring order to the Throne Room and talk to Lord Stark, who doesn't really look bothered by anything, before going to find you and Aemond.

When the news that Otto didn't want to hear, reaches his ears, and that is that your dragon Silverwing has left DragonPit and they also saw Vhagar flying away in the skies some time ago.

Meanwhile in Dragonstone… considering Kings Landing is not far away and it's quick dragonback travel, you and Aemond are finally joining blood.

All the emotion comes over you, really everything being in favor of both of you calling a Septon who has been at your family's disposal all the time you have lived in Dragonstone, who agreed to perform the ceremony, while the maidservants brought you both the clothes your mother and father wore when they also had their Valyrian wedding.

And now being here with Aemond, it's really happening.

He holds Dragonglass in his hand as the Septon begins to recite the correct words in Valyrian, about to join his blood with yours, being just as excited as you are, but dissimulating a little more.

"Hen lantoti ānogar"

Blood of two

"Va sȳndroti vāedroma"

Joined as one

Aemond directs the blade to your lips to slightly cut your bottom lip, then you also do the same with him and so then both of you bring your thumb to the bleeding part and place blood on each other's foreheads.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti."

Ghostly flame

"Elēdroma iārza sīr."

And song of shadows

"Izulī ampā perzī."

Two hearts as embers

Then you both cut the palm of one of your hands with the blade, and then join the two cut hands so that the blood begins to drip and fall into the chalice in the middle of both of you.

All the while you watch with a small smile on your lips, really not believing that this is finally happening, while Aemond watches you with adoration in his eyes, with a barely visible small smile on his lips.

"Prūmī lanti sēteksi."

Forged in fourteen fires

"Hen jenȳ māzīlarion."

A future promised in glass

Once the chalice is considerably full, both drink from each other's blood, as is the tradition of Old Valyria.

"Qēnlossa ozūndessi."

The stars stand as witness

"Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo."

The vow spoken through time

"Rȳ kīva mazvestraksi."

Of darkness and light

And finally you both permanently seal your wedding and your love with a kiss, finally being husband and wife.

After that, you lead your now husband to your chamber, where as soon as Aemond closes the door behind him, you perfectly understand that look on his face, one of complete desire and in which you barely have time to react as he pulls you to him with force and kisses you with need.

If you didn't feel the same way he does, you would have asked him to slow down… but you are just as desperate and completely crave his touch, to feel him, to become one.

"I'm not going to let you rest, ābrazȳrys. Not now that I finally have you," he promises you in the midst of kissing, beginning to remove your clothes.

"Nyke jaelagon ao, valzȳrys," you murmur against his lips.

I want you, husband.

And Aemond completely delights in your word, husband… being everything he wanted to hear you say to him.

He again devours your lips like a man possessed, not having enough, needing more, not believing he will stop anytime soon, not caring that the whole castle hears your moans, wanting to hear you say his name, just his name, all the time.

Soon both of you are already in your bed, you completely naked, while Aemond just needs to take off his pants, the sight of his naked torso turning you completely delighted, his worked body being another of your weaknesses.

You begin to moan and sigh as Aemond begins to bite and suck on your nipples, completely kneading your breasts with both hands, his two large hands in firm, possessive motions.

You breathe fast, feeling the pleasure invade you, needing more, as well as your juices beginning to drip between your legs.

"Aemond," you gasp, pulling his face closer to your chest.

"Does it feel good?" he asks you in a whisper, licking your flesh, making you moan louder.

"Yes, yes, it feels so good."

Aemond smiles against your skin, then descends one of his hands, spreading your legs wider and touching your most sensitive part, your entire nerve core with his fingers. You arch and moan in complete arousal, as he strokes you up and down being easier for him because of your wet folds.

"Fuck," he murmurs, biting your breasts.

"Aemond!" you moan.

He pulls his face away from your breasts and focuses on your face never ceasing to skillfully move his fingers, delighting even more in your expressions and your lovely face, as he feels his entire manhood hard and in need of attention.

"What? You need me to prepare you properly, my wife?"

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, please," you look at him pleadingly.

"What exactly do you need, princess?"

"Aemond," you sigh, your whole face contorted in pleasure.

"Do you need this?"

His middle finger enters you, making you sigh and gasp harder, pulling Aemond closer to you.

"Yes, yes, I need it so much," you say as best you can.

Aemond smirks again, kissing your lips, silencing your sounds for a moment, continuing to move his finger in the ideal way inside you, making you sigh, gasp and moan just as he needs.

"You look so pretty like this," he murmurs against your lips.

Without warning, he adds a second finger, which makes you squirm and begin to wiggle your hips against his hand, needing more, as Aemond kisses and marks the skin of your neck, bringing his other hand to one of your breasts, squeezing it and making you gasp more.

"You're going to feel so good around my cock, my beautiful wife," he murmurs in your ear.

Aemond in his fantasies has always wanted to taste you, just as he has always wanted to know how it would feel to have your lips around him, how pretty you would look, completely at his disposal, wanting to make him happy in just the same way he wants to make you happy.

But now… he really doesn't want to wait any longer. He needs to be inside you, now.

Considering you'll have more nights like this, everything he wants to do to you can wait, so without further ado he pulls away and stops touching you, instantly getting your attention, but you watch as he quickly gets rid of his shoes and pants, needing to free himself.

And when you see it, excitement and terror run through you at the same time.

You don't know if he will fully enter you, his size really scaring you, as Aemond watches your reaction completely proud of himself, leaning back into you as he makes his way between your legs.

"I need this, so much," he murmurs against your lips, kissing you, as with one of his hands he strokes himself.

"Take me, husband," you ask gasping, "Take me now."

Then Aemond's gaze turns dark and utterly possessive.

"You are mine, aren't you?"

"I am yours. Completely yours."

"You want me to fill you with my seed? Do you need it as much as I do?"

"Yes, yes, I need it, please," you ask, "Do it, Issa jorrāelagon."

Aemond doesn't need to listen anymore, he places his manhood at your entrance and slowly begins to thrust, while you press your lips together to avoid screaming too loudly and close your eyes tightly, feeling him open you completely as a pain and burning that is not at all pleasant washes over you.

"Shh, shh, my sweet wife," Aemond quickly comforts you, hugging and kissing you gently, stopping himself, "It's all right, all right. Tell me when I can move."

"It hurts," you murmur back, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

"I know, I know, it just happens at first, then it will feel good, I promise," he assures you softly to then kiss you again, taking all the time he needs with you, really not wanting to hurt you.

He distracts you by again caressing you, either touching your breasts, licking your nipples and also bringing one of his hands back to your nerve core, making you feel again the pleasure of before, without him moving inside you even an inch, waiting for you to get used to it.

When without realizing it, you again begin to moan and pleasure begins to run through your body, not even when Aemond cautiously begins to move inside you again, until all of him is inside.

That same pain and discomfort returns, but to a lesser extent. And when Aemond begins to gently move back and forth, you sigh and let your head fall back, finally feeling good.

At that, Aemond begins to take more confidence and moves his hips faster, each thrust being a wave of pleasure, causing you to cling completely to him and sigh between his face and neck.

"You like it just like that, my love?"

"Yes, Aemond, just like that," you murmur in his ear, delighted.

"Can I go faster?" he asks you in a growl.

"Yes, yes, it's all right."

Then Aemond adopts a new motion, faster and deeper this time, making you moan loudly again as he grunts and delights in each thrust, feeling you clench around him and your juices filling him completely making the penetration faster.

He holds you by the waist and penetrates you faster, bringing his mouth to your breasts again, marking all over your skin, never stopping moving, as you feel something start to grow inside you and need to be released.

Just like what he is feeling too.

That one night he doesn't just spill his seed inside you once, he does it more times, in different positions, as you both touch and caress each other, seeming like you can't get enough, Aemond telling you in your ear over and over again how much he loves you.

Until eventually you both finish and the next morning, you feel a satisfied tingle between your legs, as Aemond for the first time after a long time, feels good about himself, needing no more as he holds you in his arms, both of you still naked and resting from the intense and long night you shared.

You both wake up fully and prepare for the day, both knowing very well that you both have to go back to Kings Landing to face the consequences of your actions. But now that you're both married, neither you nor he really cares much, as long as you're together.

You finish breakfast, everything still feeling like a dream, a dream you really don't want to wake up from, when you hear the roar of dragons in the sky.

You immediately exchange a glance with Aemond, as the two of you watch through your windows and your mother's golden dragon along with your father's red dragon make themselves seen on the island.

You both knew this would happen, so you were already prepared, and truly not wanting to argue because everything is already done, they both leave the chamber and head out to greet your mother and father, the two of them mentioned ready to demand an explanation.

But before Prince Daemon explodes in anger at his nephew, the words and his action are completely forgotten when your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, watches as her half-brother takes his sword and kneels before her.

taglist:

@strangersunghoon @anehkael @toodlesxcuddles @yourdaydreamerfan @prettykinkysoul @kyo-kxuiote @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mrs-sullys-blog @pineapplechuncks @bellstwd @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @solacestyles @animequeen454

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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del-thetiredwriter · 1 year

Text

Twisted wonderland mafia au? (Good luck while running away from mafia)

Introduction or something like that

Part 0.5 , part 1 , part 2 , part 3

Notes: If you liked it let me knew. I maybe do this an au.

Warnings: gn reader , be aware of my bad English, not really mentioned yandere traits

You looked at the time, you could only catch up with all of them if you started now. You were supposed to notify seven executives for the monthly meeting that evening.

Night Raven organization, also known as Night Raven mafia, one of the biggest organizations of the underground led by seven executives and boss Crowley. The organization was divided into seven divisions. Each department was managed by their own directors.

Heartslabyul

As you said, the Night Raven organization had seven divisions and directors. The first of these was the Heartslabyul division, which was responsible for the torture and the organization of the mafia . The head of this department was one of the executives , Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle was a perfect fit for management. Strict, harsh, cruel. He showed no mercy towards those who broke the rules and traitors' heads.

Trey Clover is Riddle's right-hand man, his most trusted man. He was loved by all for his calm fatherly demeanor. No one who saw him walking down the street would believe that he was in the mafia, especially in the torture division Heartslabyul.

Cater Diamond was an entertaining type with his cheerful and fun personality. Although taking pictures and listening to music were among his hobbies, torturing traitors was the activity that amused him the most.

Ace Trappola is rookie of the year. He was a newcomer to the mafia. Even though he was 'good' at his job (the sadistic guy just likes to torture people so he's good at his job), this kid was really good at getting in trouble and getting others in trouble too. You don't remember how many times you rescued him from Riddle.

Deuce Spade rookie 2 . He joined the mafia at the same time as Ace . How come you didn't understand this kid in the mafia especially the torture division heartslabbyul?! He wasn’t really well versed in his business, but the boy really had a great respect for Riddle and Trey.

You knocked on the open door. Ignoring the tied mens staring at you with pity-eyed eyes on the ground, “Sorry for interrupting . I didn’t thought you would be in the middle of your work. Is Riddle-san here?" . “Oh Y/n-chan what a pleasant surprise. Sorry, I'm a little dirty,” Cater said with a smile. His white shirt was visibly soiled with the blood of those mens. "These?" ' you asked, pointing at the mens with your eyes. “They're not people to worry too much about. Just a few traitors, that's all." ' Trey said, appearing behind you.

"You're looking for Riddle, right? Those rookies, Ace and Deuce, seem to be in trouble again. They're in his office with Riddle right now. They are waiting to be saved by a savior angel.”

You laughed at what Trey said, but you should meet the other executives. “I'm sorry, but I don't think I can save them this time. I need to talk to other executives as well.”

"I see, it's for the monthly meeting, right?"

"Yes. I think Riddle has already prepared all the paperwork for the meeting.”

“You know him very well.”

“The meeting is in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm . I texted him but you remind him anyway. Then goodbye.”

Savanaclaw

The second division was Savanaclaw, which fought the power of the mafia and other organizations when necessary.

Leona Kingscholar is one of seven executives and head of this department. Usually he slept somewhere, unless he had any duties. His right-hand man, Ruggie, often took care of the documents he needed to deal with as a executive . You were one of the few people who knew how cunning Leona was, even though he was the power of the mafia, you knew very well how he analyzed his enemy and planned strategies before the battles.

Ruggie Bucci , Leona's right-hand man. Despite his weak appearance compared to the other members of Savanaclaw, he is respected by the members. He would take care of the department more than Leona. In wars, he usually stayed in the back line and took care of post-war cleaning. He was more concerned with the documents Leona had to deal with.

Jack Howl is a rookie who just joined Savanaclaw. With his strong build, he quickly adapted to Savanaclaw. Despite his stern appearance, Jack was very polite. Because of his character, Jack was among the people you couldn't understand why he joined the mafia. What was someone like him, who was boiling with a sense of justice, doing in the mafia?

The phone was busy for the tenth time. But you knew him, after a while he was going to get angry and answer, and he finally answered your call.

“Hi Leona-san this is Y/n speaking. How are you sir."

“Damn! What do you want, herbivore!” Leona shouted. There were shouts and gunfire from behind. Looks like he was in a fight again.

“Excuse me for bothering you in the middle of your work, but I was supposed to inform you that you have to come to the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm for the monthly meeting. The boss wants all seven of the seven executives.”

No response, just shouting.

“Leona-san?”

“Y/n-shii this is Ruggie. Leona-san is busy right now but he heard you. Don't worry, I'll bring him to the meeting. But in return for this favor buy me a meal.”

“Thank you Ruggie-san. I’m counting on you ."

Octavinelle

The third division was Octavinelle, which controlled the money flow of the mafia . At the head of this department was Azul Ashengrotto, one of the seven managers.

Azul Ashengrotto was the type of person who could bargain with the devil with his quick wit. In addition to being a well-known businessman in the business world, he was also a well-known casino owner in the underground world. Usually, those in financial difficulties would be deceived by his smile and beggar and borrow money from him and then become his slaves because they could not pay the debt.

Jade and Floyd Leech are twins who Azul trusts more than anyone else, often doing the dirty work. They had jobs such as finding those who did not pay their debts and threatening them. Floyd was the emotional, active of the twins. He liked to play with things that caught his attention. His twin, Jade, was the same as his brother , both in appearance and character. The only difference was that unlike Floyd, Jade was calmer.

You opened the door and entered the stylish bar. Although it was noon, the bar, which was always crowded with customers, was empty.

“Oh the shrimpy has arrived~” Floyd jumped at you.

“Hello Y/n, how can we help you at the Mounstro Lounge?” Jade greeted.

“Hi Jade and Floyd. I came to see Azul-san. Are they here?"

“Ah Azul is currently meeting with an important client. Would you like something to drink while you wait?" Jade handed the menu.

"No thanks. If it's going to take a long time, I'll go. I was going to tell him to be in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm for the monthly meeting.”

“I thought you came because you needed money.” said a familiar voice.

“Azul-san,” you greeted Azul.

"You're done early," said Jade.

“Then, as I said, please come to the meeting tonight, Azul-san.” You got up.

“Eh~ shrimpy are you leaving already?” Floyd whined.

“I have a lot of work to do so I have to go.”

“See you then Y/n. Remember, whenever you need money, come.” said Azul.

“I don't think such a day will come. Even if I need money, Azul-san is the last person I would borrow money from.” You said and left.

Scarabia

The fourth division Scarabia was concerned with the external relations of the mafia with other organizations, high-ranking persons, etc. The head of this department was Kalim Al-Asim from the famous Al-Asim family.

Kalim Al-Asim, the cheerful head of the Scarabia department. Unlike other executives , Kalim was a kind, naive, sweet person. He treated his subordinates more like a friend than a manager. Sometimes you would forget that he was the executive of one of the most dangerous underground organizations. Apart from looking so naive, Kalim was pretty good at his job. His attitude towards people made many people like him, even though Jamil was the one who handling matters such as politics etc.

Jamil Viper is the director behind the shadows and Kalim's 'best friend'. He was the complete opposite of Kalim with his quiet, calm and cunning personality. Although Kalim got along well with people, Jamil usually made the deals. Jamil was the one mostly (almost entirely) take care of the department. Many people even call him the real director or the executive in the shadows for this reason.

“Some coffee?” You handed the man with his head buried in the documents a cup of coffee.

"It'll be fine," said the man with tired eyes.

“Looks like Kalim has left most of the work to you again, Jamil.”

"Why did you come ? Or is there another task or something? I swear, if the number of documents I have to deal with increases, I will throw myself from the highest floor of this building.”

You chuckled at his words.

“All executives should be in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm this evening for the monthly meeting.”

“Monthly meeting… Yes, I remember. Out of all the work, I forgot for a second. Okay, don't worry, I'll inform Kalim about the meeting."

"Okay then I'm leaving. Don’t work too much, it’s not good for your health ."

“If you don't want me to get too tired, you can do these things for me Y/n.”

“Sorry, next time, bye” you waved your hand from behind the door.

Pomefiore

Fifth division , the mafia’s assassin department Pomefiore. This department consisted of specially trained assassins who committed the perfect murder without leaving any evidence. At the head of the department was Vil Schoenheit ,one of the most famous assassins of the underworld and also one of the seven executives.

Vil Schoenheit , the best assassin of the underworld. Because he kills his targets with poison, he is nicknamed as the Poison Apple. He is known as a tough and strict person as a executive. He wants his subordinates to show their best. He dislikes being told about the Rival mafia’s assassin as well as his ex-partner Neige LeBlanche from whom he used to be trained by the same teacher.

Rook Hunt Vil's right-hand man, nicknamed Hunter. A lunatic who says death is when people are most beautiful. Unlike Vil, he likes to play with his prey. He talks endlessly about how sweet the way his prey escapes him seems to him.

Epel Felmier Pomifiore's rookie. The poor boy had only wanted to join Savanaclaw, but Vil had taken him in, claiming he saw potential. Unlike the other members of Pormifiore, Epel was a noisy, uncontrollable person. That's why you still didn't understand what kind of potential Vil saw in him.

“Oh Y/n welcome, I didn't expect to see you.” ' Rook called out. He and Epel were outside for target practice.

“Yes, I came to meet with Vil-san. Is he in his room?"

“Oh yes, he just got back from his Duty. Right now he’s probably busy with his skincare routine."

"I understand. What are you doing ?" you asked.

"Oh, I took little Epel with me on my last mission, but he's still not good at using weapons, so we were practicing target practice with him."

“How many times have I said I don't want to be a Pomefiore assassin. Let me go to Savanaclaw." whined Epel.

This rug of his made you laugh.

“If Vil-san sees potential in you, there must be something in you. I have to go now, I have to meet with Vil-san.”

You knocked on the door, when the answer came, you entered. Vil was lying on the bed with a clay mask on his face, filing his nails. When you entered, he stopped and looked at you.

"You look wonderful as always, sir." You greeted him.

“And You look awful as always, Potato. Why did you come ?"

You smiled.

“Please come to the main headquarters meeting room for the Monthly meeting tonight at 8 pm. The boss wants all executives to be there.”

“Agh! Was it today. OK, is there anything else I should know ?"

“No, sir. Then with your permission"

As you were about to leave, you stopped at Vil's call.

“Potato, I will be free this week. I need to take care of your situation. You really have to take care of yourself a little bit.”

“Thank you for your thoughtful consideration. I will contact you when I am free.”

Ignihyde

The sixth department was Ignihyde, this department was the source of information for the mafia as well as producing state-of-the-art weapons and vehicles with great engineers. At the head of the department was Idia Shroud, one of the seven executives.

Idia Shroud , the mysterious director of the Ignihyde department even his subordinates in his department almost never saw his face . Although he was known as a genius, the nerdy genius Idia would never leave his room (aside from the urging of his brother and you) and would work all day with new weapons or stuff . He would even forgot his daily basis so you had to call him every day to remind him.

You suddenly opened the door, only computer light illuminating the dark room. You entered the room, ignoring the owner.

“Ahh Y/n-shii stop!” ' the blue-haired man pleaded.

You opened the curtains.

“Agh sunshine!”

“You are overreacting , you played video games all night again. Your eyes are purple from lack of sleep. You haven't even eaten. What am I going to do with you, Idia-san.”

Idia averted his eyes like a child scolded by their mother.

“I made you dinner. Don't forget to eat it or I’ll be really pissed off . If I didn't had any work , I'd stay and feed you with my own hands, but - whatever. Come to the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm this evening. For the monthly meeting, the boss wants all the executives.”

“Do I have to come? Can I talk through the tablet? I can right? “

You raised one of your eyebrows as meaning to say was it even a question . Upon your gaze, Idia clung to your leg and began to whine.

“Y/n-shii please I don’t want to come. You can't leave me alone in the same room with those horrible mens."

You ran your hands through your hair.

“Idia-san please let go of my leg. I still have a lot of work to get done. Have your dinner and come to the meeting tonight. Then with your permission-”

“I don't allow it!”

“I said it because of politeness.” You finally saved your leg and left.

Diasomnia

Finally, Diasomnia, even you didn't know what this department was in charge of. All you knew was that only the most talented, powerful people could get in. In other words, it could be called the special department of the mafia.

Malleus Draconia is the heir to the famous Draconia family and also the head of Diasomnia, one of the seven executives of the Night Raven mafia. Even though you were friends with him, you didn't know much about him. He was just a mysterious and kind man.

Lilia Vanrogue is a jovial, playful Diasomnia member. He may be the mafia member with the most gossip about him. According to some rumors, he was a former government agent, according to others he was a former mercenary who fought on the battlefields but who knows what was real ,only God knew.

Silver was a mysterious type like the other Diansomnia members, not much was known about him. He was a quiet man, spending most of his time sleeping. On rare occasions you've seen him train with Sebek or Lilia. He was a really great fighter.

Sebek Zigvolt a Diasomnia member who is the complete opposite of Silver. Although he was often with Silver, he was the complete opposite of him. Every time he saw him he was baffled by Silver that he should be a suitable subordinate to Malleus.

“Hello Y/n.” You reflexively drew your gun at the sudden sound you heard.

“Oh your reflexes are pretty good.” Seeing that the voice was owned by Lilia, a member of Diasomnia with short black-purple hair, you relaxed and put your gun down.

“Lilia-san you scared me.”

“Oh really ,” Lilia chuckled.

"If you're looking for Malleus, he's having tea in his study."

"Thank you sir."

Malleus told you to enter before you even knocked on the door. When you walked in, you saw Malleus drinking tea by the window. While drinking tea he was watching Sebek and Silver, who were training outside.

“Malleus-san , good day sir.” You greeted him.

“Good day to you too Y/n.” said Malleus gently.

“I'm disturbing you, but I came to inform you that the monthly meeting will be in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm this evening. The boss wants all seven executives to be there.”

“I know Y/n. Would you like to join me while drinking tea? There are also cookies you like.”

As expected of Malleus Draconia, he already knew everything.

“I am sorry sir but I must decline your invitation. But I'll be happy to have tea with you another time."

Malleus smiled. "I understand"

“Then with your permission, sir” and you left.

Everything was ok. The documents were lined up in order, the food and drinks that each executive liked were prepared. One hour left until the meeting. You took a deep breath as you got everything done on time.

“Good job again as always Y/n.”

“Crewel-sensei!”

Divus Crewel , a former mafia executive. He had quit running a long time ago, but was still training newcomers to the mafia. He used to be your teacher.

"I heard you're leaving the mafia."

Your eyes got huge with what he said.

"Sensei-"

“Don't worry no one knows but me, but I don't think it will take them long to find out huh. “

“You are right sir,” you said shamefaced.

“Before you came, these seven brats were always arguing. Not a single day in the mafia would go smoothly, but after you came, at least the departmental fights within the mafia were over. “

You were silent, not knowing what to say.

“Y/n you have to be very careful ,those seven are not the ones who will just accept the fact you’re leaving the mafia. The more you run, the more they will find you. You know right ? They're not the seven executives of Night Raven for nothing."

"Yes sir."

“Then there is nothing to do. I hope you live a peaceful life after the mafia.”

“Thanks sensei”

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months

Text

the wall between us

kinktober, day sixteen

a/n: ...yeah, this one is weird, but also kinda wild

summary: pov, you live in a cult where there is an impregnation ritual on your 18th birthday

warnings: steve harrington x reader, smut, cult au (they are both members), cult leader!jim hopper, weird birthday impregnation ritual, public sex, fem gloryhole, breed kink, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forbidden romance

word count: 773

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Always a blessed day when a flower blooms and becomes ready to expand on our wonderful family,” you heard Jim, your charismatic and adorn leader boast from the other side of the thin wooden wall, “now, gentlemen, let us bow our heads and pray, please, grant me the power to deduce who will bless this girl with a babe….” after a moment of dead silence, Hopper broke it with a loud, “ah! I can see it!” the others in the audience rumbled as he finally revealed, “it is you!”

“Me, sire?” a voice in the crowd cut through, sounding completely taken aback.

“Yes, you bear the seed she needs, my child,” his proclamation prompted the other members to cheer loudly as you heard footsteps near.

Laying on your back, legs resting up against the wall, you felt a gust of wind kiss your bottom that stuck out of the meticulous cut-out, indicating that a person had stepped up.

“Hi,” he greeted in a hushed tone, the crowd still bustling from behind him.

“Hello,” your fingers apprehensively fiddled with the fabric of your white dress, crumbled and gathered at your waist.

“Uh, happy birthday.”

“Oh,” you blinked a second, surprised by his demeanour, “thank you.”

“Can I ask you something?” his low voice was clear, though his touch hadn’t found you yet.

“Sure.”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little, yeah,” you gnawed at your bottom lip, “I’ve just waited for this for a very long time… are you?”

“I know I shouldn’t be, but he’s just never picked me before, so…” he admitted, staying quiet a moment before checking, “is it alright if I begin?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” you rushed to say, adrenalin pumping through your veins. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt his touch ghost over your skin, just your hip, the exposed part of you that was the furthest away from your core. Your fingers tightened their grip on your dress as his gentle touch slowly fluttered closer to your presented pussy, “is it strange that I wish I could see you?”

“Not at all,” he nearly chuckled, “I feel the same way,” his broad thumb came up to brush over your glistening folds, his touch staying ever so light as he tickled your clit.

Just then, you heard a heavy pair of boots come near, “come on, son,” you heard Jim whisper into the man’s ear, “you haven’t got all day,” a threatening aura laced his tone, “complete the ritual,” a callused hand suddenly crept over your skin, “look,” and without warning, a finger plunged into you causing you to gasp, “she’s practically begging for you to pump her full,” momentarily curving his digit, he tickled a spot inside of you that made you shiver, “don’t make me pick somebody else,” though his controlling touch then faltered, parting ways by swiftly landing a sharp slap across your bottom, a hushed yelp bubbling from your lips.

“I’m sorry, sire,” the man quickly apologised, hastily rushing to bury himself in you.

Turning his attention back towards the crowd, Jim then roared, “and the ceremony has officially begun!” boisterous cheers promptly erupted, “soon we will be blessed with more abundance!”

Keeping his voice low, you heard the man whisper as he bucked into you, “I’m sorry, I really wanted to do this differently, take our time…”

“It’s alright,” you breathed, “it’s how it's done…” your whole body rocked with each of his efforts to fulfil his duty. Planting your palm on the wood parting you two, where you presumed his visage was, you couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like… exactly the way his hips snapped into you… had his hair fluttered down to obscure his vision? Was he looking at you and you alone? Because if he looked anything like how he sounded or how he felt, then you couldn’t even begin to comprehend what that could mean, but what you did know was that it enticed you in a way you’d never felt before, “…maybe one day we’ll meet again and there won’t be a wall between us. Will you show me then how you had wished to do it?”

With a low and strangled moan, you felt him twitch inside of you and his movements quickly slow as he filled you up.

“What’s your name?” he asked breathlessly.

“Y/n,” you felt your heart flutter as you stared at the wall, “and yours?”

“Steve,” he whispered, his touch warm as his fingers fluttered over your goosebump-ridden flesh, “I’ll find you, Y/n. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I promise I won’t stop till I do.”

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #steve harrington smut #jim hopper smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington x reader #dark!jim hopper #stranger things imagine #dark!steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #cult leader!jim hopper #cult member!steve harrington

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bellalaufeyson69 · 1 year

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Peter Quill x Reader

Enemies to lovers (sort of)

Breakfast

(Spoiler if reading this next sentence! Takes place after GOTG and before GOTG3. Gamora is with the Ravagers and is no longer with Peter in any way. Also meaning that as confirmed by James Gunn, we the reader can understand what Groot says because we’ve been with him so long 🥹)

Description: Quill and Yn hardly ever get along and it’s gotten on everyone’s nerves. Nebula comes up with a solution to the problem by making them spend time together in hopes of working out the differences.

Wc ♡ 3.5k

Masterlist ♡

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Rays of sunlight burst through the wide front windows of the Milano as the team sat around the table waiting for Groot to finish the breakfast. We all took a straw from a hat daily to see who had the duty, though when any one of us pulled the straw and saw it said groot, we’d discretely pretended it said someone else’s name. It wasn’t that we didn’t trust him to be a good cook, it was just that he can get a little… distracted.

“What day is it today?” The tree pondered, looking over to Mantis awaiting an answer all the while completely unaware that a twig from his arm has now caught fire from the stove.

I was quick to catch this and jumped from my spot to put it out, though as I ran to help him I came crashing into a tall, decently sweaty Peter. “Common Quill!” I hissed before turning back to Groot only to be halted by his annoying voice.

“Oh like that was my fault,” he complained throwing his hands in the air and looking to the team for reassurance yet getting none as they tended to zone Peter and I’s arguments out.

“Maybe if you payed any attention to anything you ever do!” I snapped turning back to face him feeling a rise of irritation come over me causing me to completely forget why I’d even got up in the first place. “Also, you’re disgusting. We have showers for a reason, you literally soaked my arm in your nasty sweat,” I made a disturbed expression whilst wiping the warm wet liquid onto my pants.

He scoffed with an eye roll while taking a glance at the ceiling. “Im sorry if I get a little sweaty when I work out, it’s natural, and I was going to take a shower, not that it’s any of your business; after we ate breakfast.”

“How convenient, so we can all join together and eat while inhaling your B.O.”

“Oh would you two please just shut up! I’m sick of all the incessant bickering you make me want to rip my ears off,” Nebula intruded from beside Groot. She and Rocket had been busy helping Groot put out the small flame that Peter and I had long forgotten about. “You’ve been irritating because Gamora’s gone, and you’ve been a living-breathing brat ever since you failed the last mission,” she called out our behavior almost in a motherly way. She’s been weirdly diplomatic when dealing with us instead of just telling us to go yell at each other somewhere else.

With a huff I went back to my seat and sank in the chair feeling a tinge of embarrassment overwhelm me at the memory of that last mission. I had never failed before, and this time put everyone at danger because I couldn’t control my emotions and attacked a guard too soon. I got a lecture about it from pretty much everyone except Mantis and Groot. That experience definitely hurt my pride quite a lot, so sometimes I might have a little extra sass to try and build it back up. “At least mines a real reason to be acting like a jerk,” Peter mumbled while sitting down in the seat farthest from me.

I snickered to myself at his comment. Sometimes he can be a real idiot. “You realize you called yourself a jerk too right? Nice one Einstein.” I clapped back not willing to let him win this argument, or really any in the future. Peter Quill just always has to be the leader, the cool guy, always right. Not when it comes to me.

“That’s it!” Nebula shouted in pure aggravation. She stomped over to the both of us and grabbed one of our arms with a decent strength considering she’s part bot. “You two are on breakfast duty, and if I hear you argue once while doing it then you’re both gonna be stuck cleaning the engine for two months,” she snapped, shoving us both toward the fridge. We often all had chores to do but we made it fun by having a spin wheel to see who has to do what. Cleaning the engine was always the worst one, but what made it easier was knowing you only had to do it once and then you could spin the wheel next chore week.

“Who said you were in charge? I think you’re forgetting this is MY ship,” Peter defended while crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” I added confidently. Who the heck is Nebula to tell us what to do.

“Nah I agree with that. You two are the most annoying a-holes I’ve ever had to share a space with. Mantis and Drax don’t even argue as much as you do,” Rocket chimed in matter of factly.

“It is true! I would much rather sit and listen to Mantis’s pathetic stories than hear you two fight anymore,” Drax said as he stood tall and serious.

Mantis glanced over to him with a bubbly smile. “Awhh thank you!”

“You are welcome idiot,” Drax replied with a pleasant smile. In his mind he was being respectful, and Mantis didn’t know any better.

Nebula turned her head back to us with an expression as of saying ‘that’s what I thought’. “So it’s settled. You two are gonna work this stupid stuff out, and if we hear so much as a bad tone, then you get stuck with Engine duty,”

We’d both surfaced a similar response between grumbles and eye rolls, yet had no choice but to accept our fate. Majority rules is how this ship functions, which was a feature I loved when it was in regard to someone else. Soon the rest of the group piled out, rocket on his way out mumbled on about how we’d better be quick. I gave a short glance to Peter which was a mistake as he’d so very annoyingly been standing there sifting through songs his Walkman and earbuds. Of course he’d tune me out, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just stood here the whole time too.

I started gathering some of ingredients and pans we’d need, already feeling angry at the fact that he hadn’t even attempted to move to help me. This was a clear indicator that my assumption of his laziness was likely going to be right. I semi aggressively dropped down the container of bacon onto the counter letting my current mood take the control of my motion. I grabbed the unused pan and placed it down and began putting strips of bacon on it. “You’re doing that wrong,” Peter softly mentioned. He seemed tired, I wasn’t sure if it was tired of the arguing or just in general but the tone definitely helped ease my anger a little bit.

With a huff I turned to look over at him and was surprised to find him standing so close, hovering just inches from my frame looking down at the pan, then making eye contact with me. His expression was blank, and calm which confused me. “I’m putting the strips out, how else am I supposed to do it?” I felt my brow still furrowed down in the looming frustration I felt before. We always fight, and one of us always takes it too far, those are times that make it hard to ever not be annoyed at the man’s presence.

He took an earbud out and let it hang by the cord before stepping closer until his body was pressed against my side. I stayed long enough to feel his warmth until I realize the normal thing to do would be to step out of his way, so that I did. Part of me wished he’d do it again, that he’d give me an excuse to accept his embrace. If I hate him so much why did that little ounce of intimacy feel so nice? A confusing mix of emotions. “You don’t put them all at once only do half so they cook more evenly,” he explained whilst taking off some of the already placed bacon. “Also put them folded like this so that- F*CK! AGH!” He’d instantly jumped back from the grizzling pan holding his hand in pain. “Stupid grease, ow!” He complained to the pan as if it were alive which made me laugh quite a lot. The whole scene was funny really.

I hadn’t noticed that through my laughing he’d been looking at me smiling ever so slightly, until I caught him, in which he looked back at the pan. “Are you alright there captain?” I amusingly teased his super strong title, while instinctively placing a caring hand on his shoulder with a soft rub. The moment I placed it I felt the mortified realization of my actions and ripped my hand back off. Too embarrassed to comment on it I’d redirected my focus to making eggs in the other pan hoping he wouldn’t mention it.

I cooked in silence for a little while until I felt as if I was being watched. Hesitantly I turned my gaze to Peter and surely enough was met with him staring right back at me. He looked to be deep in thought until I caught him when his lips curled into an arrogant grin. “Oh no no no, are you kidding me? You’re tellin’ me you can’t even cook eggs either? What can you do?” He provoked in amusement making me roll my eyes.

I waved my hands in the air in defeat. “Fine! You do it yourself then.” I stepped aside from the counter and began to walk away until I felt a warm hand take a light grip on my forearm and pull me backward. I stumbled back to my position in front of the pan where Peter was beside me holding my arm.

“Relax,” he soothed while slowly inching closer, it almost seemed like he was hoping his movements were slow enough for me not to notice. “You’re not gonna get any better with that attitude,” he continued, his hands slowly brushing my hips while I was too distracted listening to what he was saying. He moved cautiously almost trying to catch me in the distraction. “So much attitude all the time,”

I scoffed at his comment. “Attitude? I don’t have attitude, you’re the one who’s always moping around making little comments at everything.” his fingers now wrapped around my waist as he stood behind me, his breath tickling my shoulder.

“Let me show you,” he furthered, completely ignoring what I’d said and going on with his own point.

I’d attempted at pushing his hands off me. “No, I don’t need your help Peter,”

He stood there his grip strong as he looked down at me with a little ‘huh’. After the death glare I’d given he kindly explained the cause of the sound. “You called me Peter,” he pointed out with a grin.

I felt taken off guard at that comment and honestly a little flustered. I always made it a point to call him by his last name, I felt that first names were for people I respected. Why did that slip so easily? “I was just distracted…” I trailed avoiding his gaze and looking back to the pan. “Are we gonna cook the eggs or not?” I redirected the conversation away from the tension as I didn’t know how to react. My heart fluttered at his proximity but my mind reminds me of our dynamic. We’ve never got along let alone been close in this way.

He took my cue to move on and eagerly grabbed the spatula, handed it to me then paused and hesitantly slipped his hand on the back of my own. His other hand rested on my waist still as he guided the cooking. “It’s all about the wrist” he spoke softly.

I let out a breathe as I stood stiffly. I wasn’t sure what to do with this but I didn’t hate it. In fact it was quite the opposite. “This isn’t going to help you get over Gamora,” I bluntly stated without really thinking about it. I didn’t intend on being rude and my tone pushed that. Truth is that must’ve been an insecurity festered up. He’s a flirt and I can’t be his distraction.

He was silent for a moment but his position didn’t budge. “Why are you always so quick to push me away?” He quietly asked sincerely. He seemed hurt which was the last thing I expected from him. Was I reading our dynamic wrong? I couldn’t have been I mean we fight constantly.

“I don’t-“

“Don’t.” He interrupted. “Be real with me, just this one time,” he took the spatula from my hand and placed it on the table before grabbing the hand back again and bringing it to my waist to hold there. “What can I do to fix you and me?”

I didn’t know how to respond to that whatsoever because I didn’t know what that meant. You and me. As in no more arguing? As in becoming friends? As in something more? It doesn’t help that Peter is known for his flirting. “I-“ I sighed. “What do you mean?” I felt myself submitting to his touch as my body relaxed against his.

“Last weekend, we’re sitting on the couch. My arm was up around the top of it and if I moved it down just a little bit it would’ve literally been around your shoulder. Everything’s fine we’re all watching a movie, and I make a bad joke about your favorite character because I think it’s cute when you’re mad and you storm off cursing at me.” I couldn’t see the point he was pushing for but found myself blushing at the compliment. “Can’t you tell I do those things to get close to you? We don’t talk what so ever and the most I get from you is if I pull it out of you by making a dumb comment,” he explained his head now stooped closer to my shoulder, resting slightly against the side of my face and neck. “I know I can be childish, or a jerk but I don’t know what else to do when all I want to do is talk to you,”

“Oh really?” I perked up a little bit ready to make my point taking a step away from Peter. “What about the time we were here drinking and you made a comment about how I was ‘acting different to impress people’? How romantic,” I poked feeling his logic start to crumble.

He let out a huff. “You’re not remembering that the way I am and yeah I shouldn’t have said that but you spent the entire night all over that xandarian guy,” he expressed stepping forward to grab my hand and pull me back in. “You know how much I wanted to punch that dude straight in the jaw every time he touched you? Why should he get to kiss you?” He seemed to be getting offended just remembering the night, and honestly a little heated.

“Peter,” I softly tried to intercept.

“No, I’ve been here this entire time. For years it’s been me here with you, we go on missions, we’ve explored new planets, had ups and downs, and I have to sit there and watch some guy kiss you? Some guy who just came along that same day, put no effort into his relationship with you and got you,” he rambled on with pain in his eyes. I hadn’t seen him show that much emotion over someone since gamora. “It’s not fair,”

I felt horrible for not seeing this sooner. I couldn’t help but rethink everything but at the same time he definitely went about this in the wrong way to get my attention. He got it alright but it was never good. To me he was just constantly nitpicking me and all the things I liked and it drove me crazy. I guess that’s the fault in miscommunication. A lot of the stuff was pretty dumb to get genuinely mad at, often he’d just tease my favorite movies or comment on my fighting skills. Nonetheless in this moment I felt truly sad for him. “I didn’t know…” he was focused very intently on every word I said and I could just tell the anticipation anxiety was eating him up. In reality this was a confession of his feelings. “If I would’ve known…” I trialed off not wanting to press further as I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.

“If you would’ve known then what?” He softly nudged me to continue. He took our interlocked hands and held it on his chest.

“I don’t know, things would’ve been different. I didn’t know that’s how you felt I just thought you hated me honestly,” I admitted awkwardly.

He exhaled with a frown. “I could never hate you, and that mission…“ he got softer watching my expression because he knew this topic was sore for me. “It didn’t matter to me that we failed, all I could think about was how I could’ve lost you,” he admitted keeping eye contact as he spoke. “I can’t lose anyone else, and I just miss what we used to be like.”

This confused me as what he’s referencing is our friendship back when he was with Gamora. Is he trying to say he wants to be friends or is he being romantic? He’s so hard to read sometimes, but his actions are telling me romance. Clearly he could see the confusion etched on my face because he clarified all my questions without ever having to hear them. “You know, how close we were. Cracking jokes, playing pranks on the rest of them,” he explained. “I want that. But… something a little different…” he seemed a little more awkward now like he didn’t know how to word what he felt.

“How different?” I asked feeling my heart pick up just a little bit. Perhaps MAYBE the reason I got so mad at everything Peter did was because MAYBE I valued his opinion, because MAYBE I was sort of always secretly into him.

He perked up at the question surprised I hadn’t shot it down right then and there. “Well,” he started while taking my hand and giving me a dramatic twirl. The guy is smooth. “Maybe a little romance, I’m thinking Jim and Pam,” he referenced my favorite Earth show as I’ve forced him to watch it after our trip there.

A mischievous smile found my lips at that. “Ohhhh, so someone was lying about not liking the show?” I teased in a ‘I told you so’ kinda way.

He chuckled at my call out. “I told ya Y/N, I just love to mess with you.”

“Hmm, fine but you have to watch rom coms with me,” I laid out my terms matter of factly.

His eyes widened. “Fine? Fine what? Fine to the romance?” He double checked as I hadn’t made myself all that clear.

“I GUESS,” I dramatically excepted in a fake disinterested tone.

“Well then Mrs. Y/N” he pulled me into him yet again wrapping his arms around my torso, though this time I let my hands rest on his chest. “I’m gonna romance the shit outta you,” he grinned that same cocky little grin that used to make me wanna smack him.

I rolled my eyes at his over confidence but was thrown off at him leaning in closer to me. I couldn’t find anything sassy or witty to remark because now all my focus was on the fact that Peter Quill’s lips were so close to mine. The lips of always secretly wanted to kiss. I let out a breath feeling the tension before he’d made the move to fully go in. He kissed me softly, and slowly. His hand cupped my cheek and when he pulled away he gave a real genuine smile.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me” rocket yelled out from the doorway next to a very shocked Nebula.

“I give them a week tops,” she jokingly murmured but I could tell she was genuinely happy for us.

Rocket groaned from his place clearly fed up with the fact that he’d suffered through our bickering just for us to end up into each other. “If I’d known all you two jackasses needed to do was bang it out- WHY ARE THE EGGS BLACK?” He ran over to the stove to turn off the switch as if that would save the already far gone breakfast. “that’s TWO breakfasts down the drain, that’s it! I’m done! We’re getting fast food from knowhere,” he flailed his hands in the air and walked out of the room in defeat making the rest of us chuckle.

“I’m glad you two figured it out finally,” Nebula gave a small smile. “Really thought you were blind,” she dryly joked.

Peter and I looked at each other in confusion for a moment before smiling and accepting the fact that apparently we’d been obvious about our unknown feelings. With that she left the room to follow Rocket to the controls of the ship to fly us all to knowhere. This left Peter and I alone once more, he stared down at me in amusement. “I knew you were into me.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes for the millionth time, slipped my fingers into his and dragged him out to the main area of the ship preparing for the rest of the teams reactions.

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My first Peter Quill fan fic! Sorta rushed so I apologize for any errors! Let me know if I should make more!

#peter quill #enemies to lovers #peter quill x reader #gotg fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #peter quill x yn #starlord #starlord x reader #starlord fanfic #the guardians of the galaxy

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heedeungism · 2 months

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prompt: “confessing in the heat of the moment, leading to a kiss” w/ bridgerton!sunghoon includes: kissing, arguments?, branding(in the poetic sense), fem!reader, lowercase

“i do not understand.” you say, voice soft and unsure.

sunghoon huffs out a sigh of frustration, “i do not know how i can make myself clearer.”

he runs a hand through his messy hair, a look unfit for a duke but ever so alluring on him. it was only moments ago that he tossed stones at your window, beckoning you to join him outside, panting like he had run from the danbury estate he had been staying at during his visit all the way here just to speak to you.

your concerns were well placed, he looked rather underdressed for a night out, his coat left behind and with it his sense. seriously, if scandal does not follow this night you are unsure if lady whistledown truly is as all-knowing as she claims.

“do you love me?” he had questioned the moment you had asked what on earth he was thinking, visiting you at such an hour, covering yourself with the soft pink robe your dear sister had gifted you for your birthday. it was indecent but he had regrettably seen you in much less over the years of friendship. though, the childish sleepovers stopped occurring after your 17th, when it finally started sinking in that both of you had duties to your family.

“why are you—“ you nearly ask, instead shaking your head and saying, “you’re flushed, your grace.”

“answer me.” he says—no, he orders. “do you love me?”

“i cannot.” you say, visibly recoiling back into yourself as he steps forward. “you cannot ask me such things, your grace.”

“why do you call me that?” he questions so softly, and when you look up from where you had averted your gaze, you find his centered on you with an emotion foreign to your mind but so familiar to your heart.

a shaking hand smooths down your dress, and you swallow the nerves down your throat, “it is your title, is it not?”

“you…” he trails off, and you swear you see his jaw shift in the darkness, only illuminated by the far lamps lining the gardens. “apologies for waking you, i will take my leave.”

his change in tone strikes you, “you are cross.”

“i am not.” he denies with a click of his tongue.

shaking your head you step closer, knowing him well enough to know the sound he makes is telling of his lies, “yes, you are. why are you angry?”

“because i burn for you, and you cannot say the same.” he buries his face in his hands the moment the words leave his lips with such unrestrained passion and heartbreak that your chest aches.

you watch him with little control of your breathing, how he runs a hand down his face and shakes his head, the other dropping to his side limply, until finally you find your breath, “you burn…for me?”

he looks at you, and you assume the years of knowing each other, learning feelings from expressions and easing pain through body language, that he sees exactly how you feel about his confession. he continues, stepping close with every word, “there is not a word in this world that can truly express my feelings, but you are the torch that brands my heart.”

“sunghoon.” you exhale, chest moving with your breaths.

“will you answer?” he asks, his body so close now that you feel his warmth. “i do not wish to keep you from sleep any longer.”

a lie. you can tell by the way he exhales so sharply through his nose. from this close, you can see that his pupils are dilated, his eyes lidded.

“i do,” you say. the three simple words that you had said to him countless times yet had never allowed yourself to mean in the way they do now hang on your tongue, your lips parting to speak them out loud yet the duke has grown too impatient to wait.

his hand spears into your hair, pulling you as close as the cloth between your bodies would allow, his lips claiming yours with an intensity you had never experienced. he knew this, and you knew that despite his approach, the hand on your waist remained unmoving as did the one in your hair because he was holding back.

you had never tasted another’s desire, only fantasized. yet, if this is what it felt like all along you wish he had snuck into the gardens earlier. following his pace was a challenge that you took in stride, sucking in a breath every fleeting moment that he pulled away to change his angle.

“let me…” he whispers through the fraction of space between you, “court you properly.”

his name leaves your lips and a low groan is what his answer with before claiming their rightful place once again.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

#enhypen #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x yn #bridgerton au #historical au #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon drabble #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen x yn #sunghoon bridgerton au #romance #hoonie 🩷#bridgerton

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wosoimagines · 1 year

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Captains - Leah Williamson/Reader

part one | part two | part three | part four

prompt: What happens when Captain America and Captain England are roommates?

warnings: none

words: 4317

(Y/N) POV

“I am not rooming with her,” Williamson said as she pointed at me. I rolled my eyes at that. It was true, the two of us had not gotten off to a great start when I joined Arsenal... and we still hadn’t been able to get along even though I had already been playing with the club for nearly two years now. “No way. I’m not dealing with the bad accent. Or her bad attempt at mocking my accent.”

“Listen here, doll, I don’t want to deal with your bad fake southern accent either,” I drawled out. I had purposely thickened my southern drawl for her. “There is a reason why Captain America and Captain England never do room together.”

“I understand that you two don’t get along,” Jonas started out as Leah sent me a glare, “but you’re both the future of this club unless either of you plan on leaving. Do either of you plan on leaving?”

Both Leah and I shook our heads. I knew that Leah was a die-hard Gooner since she was a kid, but I had been as well. It was a dream come true getting to play with Arsenal and I wanted to put them on top.

“Well then, you’ll both have to room together because I can’t have you two at each others throats any longer. While you two have shown that you can be great captains on the national level, I need you to show me that you can put your differences aside off the pitch as well. Especially if you’re both going to be here for the long run.”

All Leah and I could do was watch as Jonas walked away from us. The two of us turned to each other as soon as Jonas went into his own room.

“Look, he’s right,” I said causing Leah to raise a brow. “We should be able to get along. I mean, we work great together on the pitch, so why can’t we off the pitch?”

“You’re doing it again.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I had no idea what Leah was talking about.

“You’re mocking my accent.”

I hadn’t even realized that my southern accent had dropped much less that I was copying her accent.

“You ever thought that maybe I’m not mocking it?” I suggested. Leah scoffed as she shook her head at me. “I’ve lived here for the better part of two years now. The only time I go home is during part of the off season and when I have national team duties. It isn’t a stretch to believe that my accent is going to start to change eventually.”

“‘It isn’t a stretch to believe that my accent is going to start to change eventually.’“

I rolled my eyes at her as I pushed past her and into the room that we were sharing. Leah followed me in as she tried talking with my accent.

“You talk too fast,” I said as I turned to face her once I threw my bags on the first bed. Leah paused as she tilted her head at me. “You talk too fast to get mocking my accent down. Slow down how you talk and drawl out your vowels. It’s how to get the drawl right.”

“Whatever.”

Leah pushed past me as she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes but took a seat on the other bed.

I shook my head as I stared at her. At least I was trying to be friendly. I made sure to grab my key for the room as I headed out. Even if I did have to room with Leah, I could at least spend my time around others who didn’t get upset with me for the slightest thing.

I ended up in front of the door that I knew was Beth and Viv’s room. I rocked myself on the balls of my feet as I waited for one fo them to answer the door. As soon as the door was opened, I pushed my way in.

“I can’t believe her. She seriously drives me mad,” I ranted as I paced in front of the beds. I didn’t pay attention as Viv joined Beth on the bed. “Who the hell does she think she is? I’ve been mostly nothing but nice to her since I transferred here two years ago and all I get in return is mocking? And when I give her some pointers on how to mock me better? An eye roll and a fucking pout. Is she a child?”

“Did Jonas bunk you and Leah together?”

I paused mid step to look over at Beth. I knew that I hadn’t said Leah’s name so I wasn’t sure how she knew that.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“You two are so blind to your own feelings about each other all you two ever do is rant about the other,” Beth said with a small shrug.

“I do not.”

“Yeah, you do,” Viv nodded. I shook my head at that because it wasn’t true. “She gets you with a clean tackle and you complain the whole day that it was a foul. You trip her up with your skills and she complains that you get in close enough to knock her off balance.”

“That’s a bullshit lie and she knows it,” I said as I pointed at Viv. “I don’t even touch her.”

“Point is you two talk about each other all the time,” Viv said. That couldn’t be true. “No, I’m serious. All the time.”

“Well it isn’t like I haven’t tried to be nice,” I shrugged. I had made efforts to get to know her. “Leah doesn’t care.”

“She’s had a crush on you since the World Cup,” Beth said. I rolled my eyes at that. It couldn’t be true because if it was then Leah had a funny way of showing it. “And then you were kind of a dick.”

“I was not.”

“You kind of were,” Viv agreed. I huffed at that. “You came over and claimed you would be the best to ever play for Arsenal for a long time. Not only that but everything had to be about you.”

“Everything was about me when I came over,” I pointed out. It was a true statement. Arsenal had fought hard to get me to join them especially since I had been looking to play with other clubs overseas as well. “Everyone has always talked about me as if I’m some savior wherever I go. And if I can’t live up to that? You don’t know what it’s like. To be a kid and be the reason why the national team lost, it isn’t easy especially when you were supposed to be the saving grace. So yeah, it is easier to just give in and embrace the attention and the narrative and then deal with the fallout.”

“You were also pretty harsh to Leah during practices,” Beth added.

“And now she’s an even better defender.”

“That’s not how everyone is always going to see your approach,” Beth said. I shook my head at that because it wasn’t anything personal against Leah, but I needed the best defense to practice against or else I couldn’t improve as much. “Look, all I’m saying is that, to Leah, you’ve always been the cocky American who thought she was better than everyone else.”

“I am better than pretty much everyone else though.”

“That’s the problem,” Viv said. I rolled my eyes at that. It was the truth. “You’re too cocky about it.”

“If I don’t have that, then what do I really have?” I asked. They didn’t get it. “The World Cup? I won it because I’m one of the best. My family? They’re all shit and they kicked me out because none of their kids will be gay and if you are then you ain’t part of the family. All I have is being the best.”

“You could be nicer about it,” Viv said. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do because it wasn’t like I went around actively bragging about it. I just didn’t deny it. “I get it. Well, I don’t cause I hate exercise honestly, but you hold yourself to a higher standard. But you can’t hold everyone else to the same standard.”

“If you don’t want to be the best, then why are you playing?”

“They teach you that in the States?”

“No, Viv, my father drills it into each of our heads. Okay? All I have is being the best. That’s all I’m worth, so I have to make myself worth it.”

“That’s not all your worth.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t?” Beth asked. “I’ve seen you. You’ve worked with people who really need help. You think we wouldn’t notice that you took on a building project to build homes for people in need? You’ve gone and worked with kids who can’t afford club training. You’re more than just some football player.”

“Then why does no one else see me as more than ‘just some football player’?”

Beth went silent at that. It was also very true. I hadn’t been shy in raising money for charities or even going to help out when I could. I tried to put on as many free football clinics as I could and help where I could. But no one ever talked about that.

“You know how many people I run into that only see me as an athlete and not more? Everyone.” I shook my head. They just didn’t understand. “I went and helped feed those in need and asked one of the other workers if she wanted to go out sometime. She told me yes and then on the date all she tried to talk to me about was soccer. No one, outside of my national teammates could even tell me what my favorite color is.”

“It’s blue,” Viv said. I turned my gaze over to her. “It’s like a deep dark blue.”

“It’s forest green.”

“Okay, so we’re shit teammates.”

“You’re not shit teammates because you don’t know my favorite color, Viv,” I denied. None of them were bad teammates. Just because we weren’t friends outside of the club didn’t make them bad teammates. “But I ask you guys to come and hang out and those of you who do show up don’t try to get to know me. I get left alone to my own devices while the rest of you just invade my apartment to spend time with everyone but me.”

“We do care about you,” Beth said.

“No one said congrats when I won bronze at the Olympics, or when I won the golden boot, or when I won the Ballon D’or,” I pointed out. I hadn’t even received any texts from my teammates. “No one ever said it in person or over texts or anything on social media.”

“Your national teammates did,” Beth said.

“None of you did. The first thing I got asked when I went to the November camp and the first thing I get asked after the first game against Germany? How did I celebrate with my Arsenal teammates,” I explained. I shook my head at that. “I had to lie to them about that, but hey I don’t expect any of you to know that because I doubt any of you even watch my national games.”

“Do you watch ours?” Beth asked.

“Every single game. I congratulated you guys on social media and praised you guys when you won,” I said as I sent her a soft glare. “If I can’t catch them live, I record them.”

“You do?” Viv asked.

“Yeah, I do,” I nodded. Was it really that hard to believe that I was interested in my own teammates performances? “And I’ve made public comments about your performances. All praising them because you’re all amazing players.”

“You left Leah out of the post you made about the Euros,” Beth said softly.

“I took pictures with you and the others. Leah didn’t want a picture with me. That’s not on me,” I shook my head. “And I said congrats to all of my Arsenal teammates.”

“Well, Leah took it the wrong way.”

“Then that’s on her.”

“You should still probably have an actual talk with her. I mean, the rest of us get that you aren’t just some cocky asshole,” Beth shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean that Leah does.”

“And why should I? I’m not exactly craving the desire to get close to someone just to have them kick me out of their life.”

“(Y/N), do you want her to like you or not?”

“You don’t get it, people don’t like me. They tolerate me until I’m not worth anything anymore and then they leave,” I said. I didn’t miss how Beth and Viv shared a look between themselves. “I’m not the only one here. I’m not the only one who needs to make an effort.”

With that, I headed out. Even if I didn’t want to go back to my room, I could at least go hang out in the lobby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Here,” Leah said as she held out a bag to me. “It might have been brought to my attention that I should extend an olive branch and it shouldn’t be entirely up to you to make the effort.”

“Is it gonna kill me?”

Leah laughed as she shook her head. I hesitantly opened the bag.

“Viv might have told me that your favorite color was forest green.”

“You got me a hoodie?”

“You kept talking about how your old one was getting really old and it had holes in it and that it was mostly worn out,” Leah shrugged.

“So Beth and Viv told you what we talked about?” I asked.

“Well, not all of it,” Leah said. I looked away from her as I held onto the hoodie. “They really just said that I was kind of being an ass and that you aren’t always some cocky American. Which I’m not sure about that, but I figure that the least I could do was extend the olive branch.”

“I appreciate it,” I assured her. Leah softly smiled at me before I pulled the hoodie over my head. “So, how’s it look?”

“Not bad,” Leah said. I grinned at that. “It’d look better on me, but it doesn’t look the worst on you.”

I shook my head at that.

“And you can’t even compliment me.”

“Only in your dreams, (Y/L/N).”

“Oh, trust me, we do a lot more than compliment each other in my dreams,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing to worry that pretty little head about, Williamson.”

“You think my head’s pretty?”

I only shrugged as I got up. I didn’t mind as Leah followed me continuing to ask me if I thought she was pretty or not as I headed up to our room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I groaned as someone knocked on my front door. I really didn’t want to get up. Besides, I hadn’t been expecting anyone since it was already so late at night. Plus, I had training in the morning, and I wanted to get in early so I could get some extra skills work in.

Maybe the person would just go away if I didn’t answer.

The knocking echoed through my house meaning that they were going away. I sighed as I pulled myself up from my couch where I had a random game playing on the TV. Once I got to the door, I pulled it open to.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked as I grabbed onto the blonde’s arm as I pulled in her inside my house.

“I-I don’t... I mean, I didn’t... I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Leah. However, you are soaking wet, so stay here.”

Leah nodded as I turned and headed to the bathroom. I opened the cabinet under the sink before pulling out a couple of towels. I walked back out to the door before giving one to Leah before I bent down to start wiping up the water that was on my floors.

Leah eventually pulled off her shoes and left them next to the door as I stood up. She was still running the towel over her hair trying to dry it off.

“You should probably get a warm shower,” I said. Leah looked over at me before slowly nodding. “Come on, you can use my shower. I don’t have any shampoo or conditioner or body wash in the guest bathrooms.”

Leah followed me as I headed through the house to my room. I let her into my bathroom before pulling out some fresh towels and sitting them on the sink.

“I’ll leave some clothes for you on my bed. You can throw your clothes into the wash when you get out.”

Leah nodded at that as she wiped at her eyes. It was obvious to me that she had been crying, but I definitely wasn’t going to point that out to her. I closed the door behind me as I exited the bathroom. I went through my dresser and closet before pulling out a pair of my sweatpants and a hoodie for Leah. I also left a pair of my socks on the bed with them. I threw a couple of different packages of unopened underwear and sports bras on the bed for Leah as well.

I immediately headed to my kitchen. I had a feeling that Leah might want some comfort food after all. It was a while as I made a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches as well as some crispy potato bites.

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

I glanced over my shoulder as I grinned at Leah.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too fancy. Or too southern for Captain England,” I said as I plated the food and placed it in front of Leah. “Besides I was pretty much on my own at a young age, so I had to learn if I wanted to eat.”

Leah looked down at the plate in front of her before hesitantly lifted the top part of the sandwich.

“Those are obviously potatoes.”

“Obviously.”

“But what the fuck is this?”

“That? That? That is the best grilled cheese you will ever have.”

“This is not a grilled cheese.”

“That is not a grilled cheese. It is the grilled cheese,” I assured Leah. I motioned to the sandwich. “Feta cheese, spinach, bacon, and mac and cheese. It will be the best grilled cheese you have ever had.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, but she picked up the sandwich. I grinned as she took a bite from the sandwich before her eyes widened. I grabbed a plate for myself as I put my sandwich on it and some potatoes.

“That is really good.”

“I told you.”

We both fell into silence as we ate on the sandwiches and potatoes.

“So, is there a reason you showed up outside of my house soaking wet?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.

Leah stayed quiet as she picked at her potatoes. I sighed as I nodded my head at that. I truly hadn’t expected that she answer me, but it would have been nice to know why Leah had suddenly turned up.

“Jordan and I got into a fight,” Leah admitted. I raised my head to look at her. “I think it’s over between us. For good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I nodded at that. I knew how rough a breakup could be especially when you lived with your partner and you were the one being blindsided by it.

“You can stay here for as long as you want.”

“(Y/N), I couldn’t impose-”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. Not really,” I assured her. I motioned to the space around us in the kitchen. “It’s a big house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Leah nodded as she went back to picking at her potatoes.

“Don’t worry about your clothes. We can go pick them up tomorrow. And I’m assuming your car,” I said. Leah looked back up at me and I only shrugged. “I assume you ran here considering you were soaking wet.”

“I just had to get out of there,” Leah admitted. I softly smiled at her. “I didn’t think about grabbing my car.”

“If you were that upset, it was probably best that you didn’t drive.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, we aren’t exactly friends.”

“Because there was a time in my life when I was alone and I had nowhere to go, and I refuse to turn someone I care about away like I had been.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, you’re going to have to cook for me more often now,” Leah said as she took another bite from her breakfast burger.

“It’s just a burger with bacon, egg, and cheese,” I pointed out. Leah rolled her eyes at me. “I mean, I don’t mind having someone to cook for. It’s just that it’s something simple to make that you could probably make it in your sleep. Well, so long as you can make a good burger.”

The two of us fell into silence as we both ate on the sandwiches that I had brought for us.

“You didn’t have to let me sleep in your bed last night,” Leah said as I went to take a bite from my burger. I paused as looked over at her. “I would have been fine on the couch.”

“Trust me, I’ve fallen asleep on the couch more times that I wish to admit. I’m quite used to it. I think I’ve slept more nights on my couch than I have in my bed,” I admitted. Leah raised an eyebrow at that. “Being in such a big house can be lonely sometimes. I don’t like having a TV in my room, so I fall asleep on the couch watching TV so it isn’t so quiet at nights.”

“Have you never had a TV in your room?” Leah asked. I shook my head. “Something else the States taught you?”

“No, not the States,” I denied. Leah tilted her head to the side. I glanced at the clock on my dashboard, we still had a little bit before training was supposed to start. “My... father. My siblings and I weren’t allowed to have TVs in our rooms growing up. We were only allowed to watch stuff approved by him too, so I’ve never exactly been too into movies and shows. So getting a TV for my room when I moved here seemed silly since I didn’t care for any shows.”

“That actually sounds kind of sad.”

“It’s just how he is.”

It didn’t bother me anymore. I guess you couldn’t really miss what you never had.

“What you said last night...”

I turned to look out my window. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Leah knowing about my past. Sure I had told Beth and Viv, but that was different. I didn’t care if they looked at me like I was messed up because of my past. I wasn’t sure if I wanted Leah to look at me that way.

“My parents and I... we had a falling out when I was a teenager. I had scholarships pulled because of how unstable everything in my life was, and every single one of my friends showed their true colors,” I admitted. I scratched the back of my head as I wasn’t sure just how much to tell Leah. “I was homeless for a little bit since I was supposed to leave for college. Then my Stanford scholarship got pulled because false reports about me were made. I immediately made it known that I was looking into going pro rather than college. My reputation was pretty damaged though. I was put on probation with the national team.”

“I... didn’t know that.”

“Most people don’t. All they see are the fancy awards and trophies.”

“I’m sorry it’s like that.”

I shrugged at that. I had grown used to it by now. Besides, there wasn’t anything anyone could really do about it.

“So the big house?”

“Just playing into the narrative, I guess? I decided somewhere along the way that if I was going to be painted as some selfish bad guy, that I could at least enjoy the stuff I was supposed to while I was still helping others.”

“Isn’t it lonely?”

“Sometimes. But that’s what teammates are for. They’re my found family. I’ll always have my national teammates. And I hope that Arsenal is going to be my home for a long time.”

Leah nodded at that. I glanced at the clock on my dash again.

“We should probably go in,” I said, causing Leah to look at the clock before she nodded in agreement. “Don’t want to be late.”

We both got out fo my car before heading in. Both of us still eating on our breakfast burgers. I wasn’t too surprised at everyone who was already in the locker room. I moved away from Leah as I moved to join Beth and Viv who were sitting near Viv’s locker. The two forwards were glancing between Leah and I as I dropped my bag in my locker.

“Hey, isn’t that your hoodie?” Beth asked. I looked over at her before looking over my shoulder at Leah. She was still in the hoodie I had left out for her last night. “The one that Leah gave you?”

“And you both came in together?”

“It’s a long story,” I shrugged. I turned back to my bag. “And it’s not mine to really tell. If Leah wants to tell you, she will.”

“I told you that Captain England and Captain America would get together.”

I rolled my eyes at that because we definitely weren’t together, but maybe this was a start to something that could be more than friends.

#leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagines #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #USWNT #leah williamson #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc

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meaningofaeons · 9 months

Note

Your writing is so pretty !! I really love your characterization ngl. I feel like you're great at keeping them in character! I was wondering if you could do some hcs of Blade, Dan Heng and Gepard having a crush on a more experienced/older member? For an example, Dan Heng having a crush on an experienced Nameless who was on the Express before him and sort of was the one who was more hands on with helping him learn the ropes. The same implies with the other two for their respective occupations. Idk, I see a lot of character x new member person but never the reverse. I think it's a little cute lol.

Thank you for reading and thanks double if you write it!!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ seniority

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, blade, dan heng ⊹ word count - 1.9k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, reader is a silvermane guard lieutenant (gepard)/a senior member of the stellaron hunters (blade)/a senior member of the Nameless (dan heng), reader pretty much implied to be older in these, at least in terms of like physical appearance/age

hi anon!!! ♡(ﾐ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﻌ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣ ﾐ)ﾉ I was a big fan of this req ever since you first sent it in! I agree, there's so many "omg reader is an inexperienced baby and the character helps them and falls for them<3" but where's my characters getting swept off their feet by READER who's the senior member fr?!?!? no hate to anyone who writes the former, but I really like strong and capable readers !!!!! enjoy the req <3

⊹ Gepard Landau

Gepard pretty much knew you from the second he joined up with the Silvermane Guards.

As a Landau, it was always his duty, so he'd striven to do his best. However, just because it was his duty to stand at the top of the Supreme Guardian's defenses, doesn't mean he never looked up to anyone.

Despite being similar in age, you'd been a member of the guards far longer than he, enough to stand at the rank of Lieutenant before he had even joined.

At first, it really was just admiration. That, and a sense of seeking mentorship.

He'd follow you around like a lost puppy, the then-humble private Gepard trying to get any pointers he could from you

Would ask you to train with him now and then, or would ask how he can best show his dedication to the guards

Being so busy, however, you rarely had time to entertain these wishes.

Even as a Lieutenant and not a Captain, there were certain duties you had to uphold yourself. If you bowed to the whims of every Silvermane Guard, you'd be nothing more than an errand runner, or perhaps just a simple trainer.

You did notice him, though—how could you not?

He was the eldest son of the Landaus, of all families.

Not to mention, his achievements already far outweighed his ranking.

You only provided minimal guidance when he sought it, and yet here he was, smashing every expectation.

Gepard didn't of you as anything other than a superior, someone to strive after and look up to. Even as he took the ranking of Captain and rose above your station, he still deferred to you on many things.

He would seek your advice in handling situations, and the two of you began working closer every day.

Outside of normal duty, the two of you began talking as well—however, it was mostly about work.

Even with all of that, he still saw you as nothing more than someone to be respected. He still saw you as just a superior, surely. That's all it was.

Those fluttering feelings in his chest when you bested him in a spar? Pure awe at your superior strength and wit in battle.

The heating of his cheeks when you'd toss him your water flask, telling him to drink up and get back on his feet? Just a minor cold, he was sure of it.

Well, for a while, at least, he could justify it as such...

One day, he arrived to his greenhouse after work—a place for his lackluster hobby of keeping flowers—only to find you, the Lieutenant he admired, watering each bud and taking careful care of each petal.

"W-What are you doing here, Lieutenant Y/N?!"

"Ah, forgive me for intruding. Ms. Sergeyevna was unavailable, so Serval asked me to check on your flowers."

You then chuckled a bit.

"Also, you're above me in ranking now, Captain Gepard. No need for the formalities."

And when you smiled, it sent a bolt of lightning straight through Gepard's chest—something he couldn't brush off or ignore any more.

You looked radiant.

He had to get out of there quickly.

"W-Well, thank you for your help! I best be off..."

Before he left, though, he couldn't help but pause, fidgeting at the door.

"Something the matter?"

"Erm..." Gepard was stammering, ready to smack himself over the head for his blunder. "I-If there's no need for formalities, then there's no need for you to refer to me as 'Captain' outside of work, Lieute—" He cut himself off. "Y/N... So..."

You only smiled.

"Okay, Gepard."

When Gepard ran (or rather, stiffly marched) back home after that little exchange, he was beating himself up mentally for such a foolish request.

And yet, the red of his cheeks and the pounding of his heart never did quite dissipate.

⊹ Blade

In Blade's mind, there wasn't much to say about you.

You were a fellow Stellaron Hunter—so?

He was mostly only assigned to Kafka thanks to her Spirit Whisper calming his mara.

Not to mention, the day he arrived to the Stellaron Hunters, you weren't even present. On a mission, as Elio had said.

However, the two of you would eventually cross paths when Kafka was assigned to a separate mission (after ensuring Blade would be stable during her absence, of course).

"This is Y/N. They have assisted the course of destiny for many years now. Be courteous to them."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Blade."

The first thing Blade noticed was how you were... warmer than he expected.

Kafka didn't have much to say on you other than non-answers (her usual go-to for any questions) and Silver Wolf had only mentioned you being scary.

Had she perhaps meant... in battle?

Surely the person before him wasn't scary in any capacity.

You were skilled, yes—once he went on jobs with you, he could easily tell why you were still a successful member of the Stellaron Hunters.

In any other situation, perhaps he would've said he admired your prowess.

However, you were still but an enigma, and for a long time, Blade didn't like that.

He chose to keep his distance where he could. While he would obey you in missions to assist Elio to his full capacity, he never actively hung around you if he didn't have to.

Despite this, you seemed to hang around him as much as you pleased, and against his obvious displeasure.

"Blade, would you like a snack? I brought plenty for this particular job, since it could get long."

"That coat can't be comfortable all the time. Why don't we go and get you a new one? It's not bad to have options."

"Is your hair getting in the way? I can braid it or tie it back."

He'd never answer you at first. Your kindness was uncomfortable.

However, one day, he did. And he still doesn't quite know why.

"Blade, your bandages are unraveling again. Should I rewrap them?"

"...If you must."

You had stopped at that. Blade actually answered you?

"Haha, I was beginning to wonder if you had a voice at all! C'mere, I'll do those right up for you."

The gentle feeling of your hands redoing the bandages across his battered body did not make Blade flush, nor did his heart rate accelerate.

But a fuzzy feeling had wormed its way into his chest, and he didn't want to think about what it could mean.

But even if he didn't think about its meaning, surely it wouldn't hurt to pursue it from time to time?

It certainly felt better than the agony of mara rife through his walking corpse of a body.

Blade began spending time with you, even outside of missions.

You were reading somewhere? He'd suddenly appear beside you, claiming to be at a loss for things to do, thus he decided to sit for a while.

You were in your room? He'd ask if he could sit in the corner and polish his sword—the lighting in your room was best for such care.

You were about to head out on a solo mission? He'd either ask Elio to accompany you and appear just as you were to head out, or if he was denied, he'd ask you to tie his hair back before he went in case he was called out—Kafka and Silver Wolf, he claimed, could never do it quite right.

It's honestly very endearing.

This big, scary beast of a man becomes a stubborn kitten in your presence, never willing to admit he desires your presence but seeking it out anyways.

And to Blade, that's fine.

He doesn't need words to tell you how he feels.

Hell, he'd probably be loathe to speak his feelings into existence himself. He's still in denial.

He'll continue to show you in just the way he always has—being as close by your side as he can.

⊹ Dan Heng

Unlike with Blade, Dan Heng has some level of interest in you from the start.

You're there when Himeko brings him aboard, introducing him to her fellow Nameless as the newest member.

To be fair, though, he does have some sort of interest in every member of the Nameless, but something about you is a tad different.

You appear younger than Himeko or Welt, likely closer to his own physical age.

That alone makes you somewhat more approachable.

Not that Dan Heng is really approaching anyone on the express right away, though...

It definitely takes you stepping up and approaching him first for him to open up.

It probably starts with you helping him out.

He's always diligent about obeying your advice and help.

As independent as Dan Heng can be, he's respectful to your authority as a more experienced Nameless.

(Not that there's much of a hierarchy or seniority in the Nameless, but he respects you anyhow.)

He's having trouble compiling all the information for a certain entry? You're pointing out things he missed, sort of like a beta reader.

When the two of you are exploring the latest planet you've stopped by, you keep him safe against dangerous monsters (not that he's incapable of fighting, but he appreciates the assistance)

If he's looking for the next volume of a book he's been reading, you're the first to find and get it for him.

And if it's not on the Express, you fetch it for him elsewhere.

You're very open, which he's not used to—Himeko and Mr. Yang tend to leave him to his own devices, after all—but it's not a bad feeling, per se.

He begins to take notice of the ways you stand by him, help him, watch his back.

Not to mention, the manner in which you try to ensure he's welcome at every turn, considering your senior status as one of the Nameless and his relative recent arrival.

As you spend time with him, it's only a matter of time before you can nonverbally understand the quiet Xianzhou native.

"..."

"Hmm, I see. I'll go get you the latest volume, Dan Heng. I'm sure they sell it on this planet, too—I've been to their bookstores before."

"Thanks."

Himeko and Welt don't really know quite what goes on when this happens.

Over time, you're always the first to communicate for Dan Heng if he isn't present, which he truly does appreciate.

"Dan Heng would like whatever, as usual. Can you prepare the breakfast I had last time, Pom-Pom? He seemed to enjoy it when he tried mine."

"Oh, Dan Heng won't be joining us. Said he needs to organize the archives."

To anyone else, it might just look like a senior Nameless taking the new guy under their wing, but Mr. Yang and Himeko both grew to know better.

They both saw the way that Dan Heng looked at you when he thought no one else was looking at him.

Or perhaps he just didn't care as long as you didn't see the way his eyes shone, an almost imperceptible affection shining behind them.

They both noticed how Dan Heng would go out of his way on planets you weren't exploring to buy you a souvenir, or get you a snack reminiscent of your favorites.

Even March—when you, along with the other Nameless, finally discovered her and rescued her from her ice-prison—as a relatively new member could catch on to how he felt in just a few short weeks.

"Hey, Y/N! Are you and Dan Heng dati—"

"Shh!"

The pink-haired girl eventually had her curiosity sated every time she got to take a photo of Dan Heng's ever-slight smile at the sight of you returning to the Express.

#gepard x reader #dan heng x reader #danheng x reader #blade x reader #gepard landau #gepard landau x reader #gepard #blade #dan heng #danheng #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #honkai #honkai star rail

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jinchuls-moved · 3 months

Text

𝙸𝚗 𝚂𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑 ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

╰┈➤ prince!sakusa kiyoomi x princess!reader

about ≡ a love that felt timeless comes to a halt; the man in front of you isn’t him but you don’t know here he has gone.

ANGST — 5.3k

MASTERLIST ≡ NEXT

divider by @/cafekitsune

The first time you saw him you were only a young child, as the only daughter–the only child–of the king’s closest confidant, you learnt of your engagement to the young prince as soon as you were of an age to understand what would be expected of you.

You stood in front of him, confident and proud; proving to him, to yourself and, most of all, to your mother you were worthy of the title that would one day be passed on to you.

Just children, finding their fates intertwined by forces they could not control and their betrothal that would not only impact their families, but the lives of each and every subject of Itachiyama, as your mother often put it.

From then on, you were forced to endure your mother’s lessons and unbearable pressure. Teaching you of all the expectations that will be placed on you in addition to her own that weighed down on your heart.

Time felt as though it slowed, day by day passing as your mother and various tutors join you in a study, bombarding you with the history of the family you are to wed into; etiquette lessons to become more accustomed to the manner in which you’d be expected to act as a royal. And, those you enjoyed the least, lessons in embroidery. Pricks of the needle into your fingertips, sloppy threadwork you weren’t certain would ever improve all whilst feeling berated by your mother as “a lady should be able to do this with ease.”

Months of lessons stretch to years, from etiquette and embroidery to each and every aspect you needed in order to become the best queen you could, even if that role was far in your future. Through it all, there was something that made the passing of time more bearable.

The blissful, peaceful days you could have with Sakusa by your side.

What had begun as forced, uncomfortable meetings, sharing tea under the watchful gaze of your mother, had turned into something you’d often look forward to. Exploring the palace grounds as children, taking a wrong turn one day and finding the new place of your ever more frequent encounters.

Starting with standing in the ankle-deep stream that ran along the left of the clearing, crystal clear water, that looked more than refreshing; evolving to basking in the sun in the heat of summer, sneaking pitchers of juice and snacks away from the maids before they’d notice the two of you, or the food, had gone missing. And, as the two of you grew into near adults—as your social debut, and your wedding approached—the clearing became the one place the two of you could forget the duties sitting heavy on your shoulders.

Under the weeping willow, shielded from everything outside, you’d sit with Sakusa’s head resting on your lap, gentle strokes through his hair, occasionally tracing your finger between the beauty marks on his forehead. The soft, sweet movements relieve him of all stress haunting him.

It was times like these where his princely nature, the vision the public had of him, would fumble and you would gain confidence to speak in ways you’d never let another witness as you gently ran your fingers through the curls of his hair, you studied the delicate features of his face as he closed his eyes, almost falling asleep with you as his pillow.

“What burdens you, My Dear?” He spoke up, eyes remaining closed. “I can feel the way you stare.” Now opening his eyes, his gaze meets yours, a soft frown on his face as he misinterpreted your silence as something worse.

“Nothing burdens me.” You smile, “I was simply thinking how much more enjoyable my time is when it is spent with you.”

He grins in return, lips faltering as he tries to hide his embarrassment, evident by the faint pink that adorns his cheeks. “I feel the same,” Sakusa whispers, reaching up to loosen your fingers from his curls and lacing his between yours. Bringing your hand closer, he places a soft kiss on your skin. “And, I must say. Though we had little choice, I am glad you are my betrothed.”

A sweet moment, one you had begun to cherish from the moment it occurred, or at least would have if it were not the final time you found the joy of his company and the clearing hand in hand. In fact, until the night of the ball hosted to celebrate his 18th birthday, you wouldn’t see him again.

You hadn’t thought much of it, assuming his responsibilities had made him too busy to make time for you, as it did occasionally. You find yourself missing him; waiting for the moment you could see him again, relaxed, under that oak tree but you have no luck until you’re attached to his arm, his partner as always, and waiting for the grand doors to open and your arrival to be announced to those lucky enough to receive an invitation.

They open and you can hear the faint music grow louder as you take your place at the top of the extravagant, and aggravatingly long, staircase allowing the guests time to lower their heads not only for the man at your side but the king and queen who had stepped in alongside you and, one day, they would do the same for you.

The music does not stop until you reach the bottom of the stairs as you wait for the king to announce the official beginning of the celebration; to wish his son well on the day intended to honour him. His speech comes to an end and the music brings the hall back to life. You’re pulled into idle chatter by those around you, some wanting to know of your well-being or your family’s, others solely interested in forming a connection with the future leaders of their kingdom.

Through it all, you simply wished for a moment of peace and an opportunity to escape. Yet another thing you’d learnt you shared with Sakusa: your distaste for expectation and attention.

You endure it for as long as you can, taking Sakusa’s hand as he requests your first dance, standing alongside your mother at the edge of the ballroom floor as Sakusa entertains each noble that approaches him. It seems like forever passes before you’re able to be beside him again, once more pulled into the centre of the floor (a result of your mother’s persistent pestering). You tell yourself there’s one more dance, a few more minutes of your time taken with everyone’s eyes locked onto the pair of you, an action you were sure you’d one day become accustomed to but, until then, you were left comforted by Sakusa’s words–encouraging you through each step.

Minute by minute, the night passes slowly—only enjoyable in the moment you find yourself hand in hand with Sakusa as he leads you through one of, what feels like, the hundreds of dances you had practiced all your life. His soft, gentle hands holding yours as though you were made of porcelain; as though one wrong move would shatter you in seconds.

Two or three dances pass—your movements seem to blend into the music, your focus only on him—you lose track of the time as the busy, political, intended nature of the ball. Leaving the dance floor, still hand in hand, you expect Sakusa to bid you farewell and mingle amongst those that will benefit him greatly once he is coronated.

But he never lets go. He never stops moving. He never looks back.

Pulling you from the vast ballroom you find yourself in the corridors of the palace, one’s you know well but ones that felt much different, more intimate now you were lead by your betrothed until you reach the beautiful glass doors that lead one of many balconies looking over the palace garden.

“What will people think?” You laugh, allowing him to pull you into the cold—he wastes no time in ridding himself of his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders. “The guest of honour hiding from his own celebration, taking a woman with him no less.” Fingers taking hold of the collars, you pull your covering closer. The familiar scent of him filling your nose.

“Taking his fiancé with him.” Sakusa corrects, leaning against the balcony rails as the cold breeze swims in the air. He looks beautiful as the wind disheveles every perfectly placed hair.

“We are yet to marry, there is still room for scandal.” He chuckles, staring down at the view of the garden. Making your way beside him everything feels right. The world you had been born to be part of, trained in your youth for and yearning for since you felt you heart beat only for him. It may have never been your choice, but the life expected of you didn’t seem too bad when Sakusa was going to be there with you.

“I can think of a worse scandal soon to be exposed.” Turning your head to him, you raise an eyebrow in your confusion. “The prince’s fiancé makes no attempt to congratulate him on his birthday.” A smile comes to your face at his teasing joke, turning to face him and taking a small step back. Your hand comes to your dress, pulling it out as you prepare yourself for a curtsy. Bowing your head you begin the official congratulations you’re assuming he’s expecting.

“I wish His Highness-” he raises his hand to stop you before you’re able to so much as bow.

“Not like that.” He whispers, taking a step towards you and gracefully wrapping his arms around your waist. Pulling you close he waits for you to talk.

Feeling the warmth emanating from his body, you’re suddenly painfully aware of the distance between you he’s shrunk. The cold chill in the air feels like nothing against the burning of your embarrassment coursing through you until you find yourself lost in the moment, meeting his eyes with your shy glance. “Kiyoomi.” You whisper, pushing a hand to his chest–he makes no effort to move. “This isn’t-” He watches you as you struggle to find the words becoming more flustered as each second passes. You look away, unable to keep your gaze on his, instead choosing to focus on the balcony railings and the stretch of the garden barely illuminated under the palace lights. “We are yet to be wed.” You remind him once more, tone as confident as you can muster.

“Will your reputation be tarnished by a single act no one is a witness to?” A guiding finger rests under your chin, luring you to look his way again. “I simply wish to hear your congratulations today.”

His fingers move gently against your skin, soft for the most part but the rough calluses forming rubbed against your skin, making you wish they could remain soft for the comfort of his caresses.

“Happy birthday, Kiyoomi.” Your voice is barely audible, only reaching his ears and, had it not been for the silence of the balcony, he may not have been blessed by the quiet embarrassment in your voice he’d grown to favour.

“I believe I may now call it so.” He whispers back through his grin, relishing in your initial shock as he closes the gap between the two of you, catching you in a kiss—your first—that would certainly trigger another lecture on your social reputation from your mother. If she were to find out.

It was magical; everything you had dreamt of. Perfect. Had you known what was coming, you would have savoured the moment longer.

Mere weeks later, to the surprise of everyone, the news comes that sits a weight on your heart that you can’t hold—the kingdom is at war and the prince must lead his army to victory. And you are left alone.

Your only solace is found in the frequent letters you’d share, his less detailed than yours—saving you from the horrors he was experiencing and only sharing what little could be considered ‘good’ on the battlefield. Small anecdotes; stories about his men and his queries into how you are. There seemed to be and endless amount to talk about and the letters were frequent enough to keep you enthralled with him.

Until they weren’t.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned to months and word soon stopped. No matter how much you longed to hear from him; no matter how often you sent letters of your own you heard nothing. You fear the worst, fear his death came too soon and that you were going to be the last to find out; you wonder if his parents would even feel the need to tell you. And if he wasn’t, was he captured? Was he in danger? Did his men fail to keep him safe?

How were you to ever find out?

Maybe you were never supposed to. Maybe this was how you were to find out the truth of his feelings towards you and that he’d stopped entertaining your painfully obvious childish infatuation. You could only assume so when his mother mentions, in passing, that he’s grown more into his role over the years if she was perceiving his letters correctly.

His silence was for you and you only and it shatters you. You’re left heartbroken and with a hundred questions but the one lingering on your mind the most is why? Why spend your life concerned for a man that appears to have to care for you?

You wish you could say it never bothered you and had never left you sleepless as you thought of every part of your childhood that had you falling for him in the first place. And, perhaps, with a little more time, you would have found a way to heal. Perhaps if you hadn’t heard from him again you could have felt normal.

His final letter comes as a surprise; you read it again and again, eyes scanning each word as if there was a hidden message behind them; as if something would jump from the paper and scream the truth of all that you had missed–all that he had kept from you.

But nothing came, just the words that felt as though they had no care behind them; no explanation as to why his letters had stopped. Simply a small letter, a paragraph that held nothing more than the words scrawled on the page, that you doubted he had even written himself, stating your wedding would be held in three days–leaving you no time to process that he was back. The time you had spent mourning him; crying to Kiyoko as the thought of losing him broke you.

Instead, you found yourself thrown into preparations and, with your lack of interest in the wedding painfully obvious to everyone but your overexcited mother, you feel as though there’s no time to breathe as flower arrangements, invitations and dress fittings are forced on you with no room allowed for your own opinions.

The days pass slowly, you’re overwhelmed and waiting for the end of the night when you can crawl into bed or finally release the build-up of emotions to an increasingly worried Kiyoko as she stood, brushing through your hair and encouraging you to tell her the truth. After witnessing it all, the months of missing him; the way you broke at the loss of contact and the anger you had felt when he resurfaced, she was unprepared to let you burden yourself with the weight of the kingdom’s expectations.

Especially as the night before the wedding falls.

You cling to Kiyoko as she held you tight, your head rested on her lap as she gently stroked your hair—her futile attempt to soothe you. Every wail from you leaves her shattered and the letter, the blaster letter, sit torn to shreds at your feet. Ripping it apart in a haste as Kiyoko opened your doors, you fell into a state of despair.

Tomorrow was the day of your dreams but reality felt like much more of a nightmare.

It’s a miracle your home isn’t awoken by your heartbreak but no one else comes or they simply don’t care enough to stop the once thing that benefits even the lowest of employees in your family home. Why should they step in just because you felt pain?

“I can’t!” You cry. You must, you think—the protests fall from your lips as you lose yourself in the spiral your mind has become, Kiyoko’s efforts to calm you are useless. She’s left with nothing to do but wait for you to exhaust yourself—which comes soon—only then is she able to gentle tuck you into bed again ignoring the painful pant of her own heart as she yearns for a way to get you out of your forced destiny. Yet, all she can do is stay at your side and bring you some sort of familiarity to the life you’re dreading.

It’s a restless night, tossing and turning in a light sleep that wakes you frequently. You stare at the ceiling, hoping sleep will take you once more as the birds chirp and the world awakens. If an escape is not possible, just a few more minutes of sleep will be preferable.

Puffy-eyed, throat sore, and filled with dread, you wake the next morning to the room filling with maids, more than you had ever been used to seeing, and your mother pushing her way in determined to oversee every last detail of the preparation. Since you woke up that morning, you hadn’t had a single chance to breathe.

Your mother, someone who had always been considered a respectable woman, pulled you to your feet with a childish grin on her face, pushing you from the comfort and warmth of your covers to one of her employees, whose name she certainly had never bothered to learn.

Rushed onto your feet, the only chance you have to breathe is the short time you have away from your mother–that you wished would stretch longer–sat in the warmth of your bathtub and allowing yourself just a few minutes to relax before you’re thrown into the fire burning in your home.

Your mother stands amongst the maids as you return, insisting on every last detail of your hair and clothing; ignoring the few requests you’d had just a few days beforehand. But you move past it quickly, those few requests weren’t important to either of you, your mother wanted this day to be perfect; it had to fit the image she had in her mind whereas you would had preferred nothing at all or, since you had no choice, something much less extravagant than all that had been planned.

You’re more than ready for it to end the second it begins, you’re being tugged from side to side as the maids (not so) delicately pull your hair into the intricate style your mother is insisting on, she’s quick to slap the back of your hand as you complain, reaching to alter the curl your mother seems to love–she’s telling you to remain still; accusing you of ruining the day before it had even began.

So, you’re left with no choice. You sit, having your head pulled from side to side under your mother's orders; you share a look with your lady-in-waiting through the mirror praying there was something either of you could do to stop the hell you’re about to subject yourself to—as though either of you could stop the dictator making her orders.

You lose track of the time you’re spent as your mother’s living doll, having your breath stolen as the corset is tightened around you with the order of “a little more” and your ignored protests. Your arms are pulled left and right as you're pushed into the gown, leaving only makeup to be done.

You hope it won’t take as long as your mother makes it seem; with powder being slapped on your face and more instructions being tossed at the maids. There’s nothing you can do but sit and take everything thrown your way; you’re being led to the royal carriage before you realise it—you’re still not ready.

You’re not sure how many hours have passed since the moment you woke up but, now, the sun is beating down on you through the window of the carriage. It hurts your eyes, just a little bit, but you think that’s better than your attention being on your mother. She’s sat opposite you listing off her requirements and rules for the day—all boiling down to ‘don’t mess this up’. Ruining the day was practically impossible. You’d practiced a million times, you’d had nothing but lessons on palace etiquette and you’d memorised your agenda for the day years ago. Above all, it was once a day you dreamt of—once one that left your heart fluttering.

You were a robot programmed for this day and this day only. Ruining it was not an option.

She doesn’t stop talking until you reach the palace but you’re left with no time to feel the relief. You freeze for a moment, staring at the church that stood tall, staring down at you; taunting you. Even with only a few more moments until those doors opened, until you were expected to give the rest of your life to a man you no longer wanted in your memories, you hoped you’d receive one more message that would set you free. Instead, you take the step out of the carriage, feeling the never-changing watchful glare of your mother bore into your side even as she’s encouraged away, inside the building, with Kiyoko following behind her. Your silent beg for her to stay with you; your plead for her to stand beside you and offer you the only comfort you would receive that day, don’t go unnoticed but she has no choice but to follow after your mother, leaving you stood alone with nothing to do but wait for the sound of the organ and opening of the holy doors condemning you into a life you considered hell.

Left alone, time seems to stop. There’s an endless silence that envelopes you until you’re left restless, taunted by the wait hoping the tune will never start. You don’t fund yourself lucky. The grand doors slowly creak open, the music begins quietly, the volume rising as you come into view. You want the floor to swallow you whole as every guest stands and their attention is solely on you.

It’s time.

You wish there was someone beside you. Your mother, your father, Kiyoko or just a maid. But you’re expected to take each step solo.

As the music continues you take each painstaking step. Chattering and whispers dying down to silence as the sound of the organ grows; there isn’t a single pair of eyes not on you.

Glancing around the room, or at least to those sat in proximity to the aisle in the vast chapel, you’re realising there are minimal people here to support you.

There’s viscounts and barons hoping to gain power through relationships with the higher ranking earls and dukes. There’s women hoping to meet a higher ranking man to lift them up the societal hierarchy and you start to think Kiyoko is the only person really there for you.

The closer you come to Sakusa, the more familiar the faces become. You may not know them all, but the soldiers that fought alongside your fiancé stand to your left, all smiling at the thought of their captain, the man that lead them to victory in the near half-decade they were at war, getting his chance of happiness. Or what they perceive to be so.

You search the sea of vaguely recognisable faces, trying to keep your attention forward as you walk and, only then, do you look to the men that stand close, at Sakusa’s side. His most trusted, his family–only one of which you recognise. And only one of which you’re happy see.

Komori. Sakusa’s cousin and right hand, there wasn’t a thing on Earth Sakusa knew the Komori didn’t; as your eyes met his he greets you with a familiar, comforting smile—one you hadn’t seen in far too long. The sight of him turns from reassurance into something you’d wished you’d never laid eyes on.

You hate it.

It reminds you of the happiest years of your life, when you could consider Sakusa a friend instead of the stranger he’d become; when you could laugh or cry around him and not fear his reaction. Of when you would accompany both Sakusa and Komori on walks around the palace garden, almost always ending in a scolding from your mother at the filth that littered the dress she had carefully picked out that morning, something that never bothered you. Because the time you spent without supervision was always the time you looked forward to most.

It reminds you of the time you thought married life could be somewhat enjoyable.

Beside him are the infamous mercenaries hired to fight alongside the soldiers; now knights of the palace with the sole duty of protecting the prince. There’s Bokuto and Hinata, the two deceitfully cheerful men with the power to kill in seconds if given the chance. Together, they were an unstoppable team but they were not as treacherous as the faux blonde sat beside them with judgmental eyes targeting you.

Miya Atsumu. Bloodthirsty and menacing, his stare had you wanting to turn and leave more than you already were. His brown eyes felt like they were searching your very soul and all you could do was look away, finally looking at your betrothed.

For the first time in over four years.

You hate to admit it, you really do, but, no matter how much you despise him, you cannot deny the fact he’s become an inexplicably handsome man.

Maybe it was the years on the battlefield that had forced him to grow from the 18-year-old you remember into the toned, beautiful heir to the throne waiting for you at the alter; his new physique perfectly suiting the white suit he had donned; golden accessories making him more breathtaking. And, across his shoulders sat the white mantle handed down the generations of his family: a symbol of alleged love and affection between the king and his queen.

It makes you want to laugh.

The worst thing about it all, the one thing you’d expected but hoped he would control, is the expression on his face. If a single person was looking at him they would realise what a mockery this wedding was—no one should have an expression of such abhorrence at the site of their wife. Yet, there he was looking at you like you were dirt on his boots, like you were the enemy he’d been fighting for so long.

You slow for a second, taking a hesitant step forward as you force your eyes away from his. You know this isn’t what either of you want, you’re aware there may even be a woman Sakusa yearns for but can never have. But you wish you could live your life differently, turn and run; find a man to love wholeheartedly.

Reaching the alter, everything feels real. Sakusa takes his steps towards you; taking your hand and guiding you up the steps to the high priest, who’s waiting for the music to cease and the ceremony to officially begin.

With your back to the crowd, you ignore the words spoken by the priest; they mean nothing to you as he speaks of blessings showered down on the union—on how this is the wedding everyone has been anticipating.

Everyone but the two of you.

So, you stand. A hand rested on Sakusa’s as you wait for your cue to turn to him; to listen to him speak his vows, one’s you’ll have to echo afterwards.

When the time comes, you let him take your hands; you let him talk and you let him slide the ring on your finger. You’re locked into your life the second he finishes; he looks as unhappy as you feel at that moment.

Then it’s your turn; everyone’s watching you. They’re waiting to celebrate not only the marriage of the prince but the consolidation of power that will become their king and queen. But, not a single one knows you’re anxious about the words you're expected to say.

All eyes turn to you as your turn to repeat the words spoken moments beforehand comes, holding Sakusa’s hand in yours whilst you wait for the moment to slide the ring on his finger; the cold metal matches the rough man who’s not so much as smiled at you from the moment the doors opened.

You can hear the minister speaking even though you don’t register the words, meaningless words you’d practised a hundred times under the order of your mother, words that would have once spluttered from your mouth through your amusing nerves and had your heart racing. Yet, now, they left you numb and full of regret. Had all those years you’d given him, all the emotions you’d once thought you shared, been some sort of game? Or had he let you think he felt something towards you just so he could fulfil the duties placed on him by his father?

Taking a deep breath as the silence falls amongst the hall, as it had when Sakusa spoke his vows, and you prepare yourself for what was beginning to shape the rest of your life. “I y/n l/n take you, Sakusa Kiyoomi,” meeting his eyes for just a second you feel yourself begin to falter, staring at the man who, for just a split second, held a soft expression on his face. You lose sight of it just as quickly as you had noticed it, watching him as he turns from the young man that had been by your side; the man that had made you feel as though you were more than enough for anyone, to the stranger that had returned.

The moment passes and the light fades as you open your mouth to continue, “to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward,” with him in front of you; with the hopeful eyes of everyone watching, you’re left with nothing other than a bitter taste in your mouth.

“for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” you let your eyes drift to your parents, sitting beside Kiyoko, and your mother’s beaming smile urges you on with no care for what you want. She sits, expectant, waiting for the opportunity to call her daughter the princess, waiting to be known as the woman who was successful in making her child the future queen.

No matter how much you had told her you wanted anything else for your own life.

With your attention back to the man in front of you, you continue. “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,” You allow yourself to entertain the thought of just what type of person Sakusa would be in those situations. Wondering if he’d warm to you again, just as he did when you were younger, or if he’d show more of the man he’d seemed to have become. Would he care or would he leave you to feel alone in the palace through the moments you needed someone with you most?

“till death do us part,” The question of his loyalty had never come to your mind, you knew how he was raised and you knew how he felt about mistresses. You were all he would have be it willing or not.

“according to God’s holy law.” Uttering the words feel almost blasphemous, in a place of worship shared with a man you had long since lost any loving feelings. Words that most would believe were shared between lovers, young adults that had waited for this moment since they were children, unaware of the loss you feel thinking about the man that once took claim of your heart.

You hold the ring in your hand, delicately lifting it so you can slide it down his slender finger, trapping yourself with the final words you speak, mouth dry and voice shaking, enough to be misconstrued as nerves, as you do so.

“This is my solemn vow.”

#𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝑒𝒸𝒽𝑜 ༉‧₊˚.#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader

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eggluverz · 9 months

Text

TASTE OF THE UNIVERSE

PAIRING. jing yuan x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1,600

GENRE. fluff, pure fluff

SUMMARY. in which jing yuan occasionally gets tired of being general and you are there to cheer him up. but what exactly are you to him? jing yuan thinks you’re more important to him than you probably know.

NOTE. brain empty jing yuan thoughts only _(:3」z)_ if anyone else has jing yuan thoughts feel free to share my ask box is open <3 in the meantime, pls enjoy !! xx

Jing Yuan joined the Cloud Knights to escape a life of boredom that was bound to await him if he followed his parents’ wishes and joined the Realm-Keeping Commission. And while he believed he ultimately made the right decision for his life, there were parts of being leader of the Cloud Knights that didn’t align with the future he had always dreamed of when he was a child.

Some days, especially those days filled with stacks upon stacks of papers, Jing Yuan wished he could ignore his duties and explore the galaxies. Though, he reckoned everyone with any sort of career must have felt that longing before. Longing for a different life, different experiences, more time to explore.

Such was human nature, after all.

At least during those times that being a Cloud Knight general felt overbearing, Jing Yuan had you to alleviate the feeling.

His relationship with you was nothing more than a friendship if you based it solely on labels. That is to say, neither you nor Jing Yuan have called each other anything but a friend. However, it’d be a lie for him to say he had never felt the implications of anything more with you.

You were just friends, yet he gravitated towards you when he craved someone’s warmth and solace.

You were just friends, yet you insisted on getting dinner with him whenever you could after work, no matter how late his nights were.

You were just friends, yet Jing Yuan found himself wishing it was something more.

With that wistful thought, he pulled out his communication device and opened his messages with you. To his delight, he found an unread message from you only half an hour ago.

Y/N: Hey! :) How’s your day going? If you’re not too busy today, do you want to have dinner with me again?

His eyes lit up at the invitation. He had piles of paperwork to get through, and Luofu’s duties were ones he would never neglect so long as he was the Arbiter-General of the Cloud Knights. But leaving some of the matters with less urgency to be dealt with tomorrow in order to make it to dinner with you was something he could accept. Not so much neglecting as it was prioritizing, he called it. Or work-life balance, as you had told him.

Jing Yuan: Good afternoon, Y/N. My day is good. Better, now that I saw your message. And yours?

Jing Yuan: As for dinner, perhaps we can go to my place today? I can have the chef prepare your favorite foods if you wish.

He let out a soft sigh he’s been holding in. While it was common for the two of you to see each other, having dinner in a more private, intimate space wasn’t something regularly on the agenda. But if Jing Yuan wanted to get to know you on an even deeper level, he reckoned dinner at home would be a good step.

Y/N: My day is also good!

Y/N: I’d love to have dinner at your place. But maybe we can give your cook a break tonight :)

Y/N: I visited Belobog for my last vacation and learned how to make Snapper Jam during my time there. Since you’re too busy to visit yourself, maybe I can make it for you! You can have a little taste of another planet.

Y/N: Though… I won’t have the ingredients from Jarilo-VI, but we can make substitutions accordingly!

Jing Yuan chuckled to himself. Of course it’d be rather difficult to make authentic Belobogian cuisine without the exact ingredients, but he trusted your imitation would still be delightful to the taste.

Besides, it was the thought that counted most and the fact that you wanted to share a part of the galaxy you experienced with him meant more than the quality of the meal.

Jing Yuan: Hahaha, I’d be delighted to taste your cooking. Let me know what ingredients you need. I’ll have someone gather them before you arrive.

Y/N: Okay! I’ll send a list soon.

Y/N: I’ll see you in a few hours! :)

Jing Yuan: I’ll be counting down the seconds!

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

You weren’t one to be particularly bashful around Jing Yuan. Perhaps in the beginning when you only knew him as general of the Cloud Knights. But the more you got to know him, the less hesitancy you felt in opening up. Now, you would consider him one of your closest friends.

A close friend who occasionally gave you butterflies and heart palpitations, naturally.

And tonight happened to be one of those occasions.

You haven’t been alone in Jing Yuan’s home before— Or rather, Jing Yuan’s palace is a term more befitting. Despite the vastness of his living quarters, there was an air of intimacy still present in the room.

Jing Yuan watched as you cooked a meal for him in his kitchen, asking if he could help in some way even though you knew that man had not had to cook for himself a day in his life. You asked him to prepare some vegetables as the sides while you worked on the main dish.

When the two of you finished, you had a smile on your face. One the Jing Yuan matched. He placed your plates on the dining table, making sure the two of you were seated side-by-side. You poured a glass of wine for him before filling up your own cup.

“Cheers to this delicious meal made by the lovely Y/N,” said Jing Yuan with a grin, ready to toast.

You clinked your glass against his, not breaking eye contact as you had your first sip. “With the help of the even lovelier Jing Yuan, of course.”

“Naturally.” He smirked. His tone changed into that of a more serious one as he took a bite of the Snapper Jam. “I don’t know if I expressed it well, but I truly am grateful that you did this for me. It’s almost like I’m in Belobog myself.”

You laughed off his compliment, knowing your dish tasted almost nothing like its Belobogian counterpart. But there was only so much you could do without the authentic ingredients. You hoped you were able to do it some justice— Enough to make it enjoyable for Jing Yuan at least. “Well, if you can’t travel the universe yet, I can at least try to bring the universe to you.”

“You already have,” he said, “even without the food.”

Placing another bite of fish in your mouth you raised your brow in question. “How so?”

“You’re here with me aren’t you?”

It dawned on you that he was flirting with you. In the cheesiest most poetic way possible.

A giggle escaped your lips as the realization set in. “General Jing Yuan,” you said teasingly, “if you’re not more careful with your words, I’ll start thinking you’re hitting on me.” You paused. “Unless, that is the intended implication.”

“And if it is?” In contrast to his usually impeccable table matters, he rested his elbow on the table and propped his head on his palm, staring up at you with hooded lids. An almost cocky smile spread across his face, but his eyes shined bright and hopeful.

“I can’t say I’d be opposed,” you said, pretending to be nonchalant about the entire thing. That didn’t last for long before you burst out into a smile, almost bouncing in your seat. “In fact, I’d be rather ecstatic if that were the case. Almost happy enough to kiss you.”

Jing Yuan instantly straightened up at that, no longer lazily leaned over the dining table with that cool composure of his. He craned his neck sideways, examining you with his intense stare.

“How do we get you even happier then?” he asked, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Would confirming I am flirting with you be enough to suffice?”

You nodded, taking another sip of wine to quench your suddenly dry throat.

“I do like you,” he said sincerely, turning in his dining chair so that he was facing you directly. “And while it may be too soon to truly say you are my universe, I have no doubts it will get to that point, if you’ll only allow it.”

“I like you, as well,” you admitted, placing your hand on his cheek and leaning forward for a kiss. Jing Yuan’s eyes never left yours even as he reached out to cup your jaw. “And you’re well on your way to being my universe, too.”

He let out a low chuckle, brushing your lower lip with his thumb. “Then… What are we waiting for?”

You replied simply by tilting your chin up and meeting his mouth with yours. His lips felt warm and inviting and you instantly hoped there would be more of this to come. The half-eaten food sat almost forgotten on the table, but you had more pressing matters to attend to.

For now, all you could focus on was Jing Yuan’s lips moving against yours, his hand making its way down to the small of your back, his knee brushing against your upper thigh.

Him, him, him.

The thoughts were all-consuming as you melted into the kiss. You wanted nothing more than to enjoy this moment with him. And you knew he felt the same.

Slowly, you pulled away as he rested his forehead gently against yours. His golden eyes burned deep into your own and you found yourself unable to look away.

“Wow.” Jing Yuan smiled as he licked his reddened lips. “The universe sure tastes wonderful.”

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fanfiction #hsr #hsr fanfiction

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bingoboingobongo · 1 year

Text

something to be grateful for

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Smut (minors dni), fluff

Summary: Ghost’s never celebrated Thanksgiving before. For one, he’s not even American, and two, he never had anything to be thankful for. But this year? This year he’s thankful for you.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: use of feminine body parts, explicit language, fingering, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), guided masturbation (?)

A/N: welp. idek what to say. this started out as a fluffy thanksgiving drabble and now it’s this. is it good? idk. is it bad? idk. is it accurate? idk. my experience is in the negatives so this is just an amalgamation of all the knowledge i have gained from reading/reddit threads. happy thanksgiving to all who celebrate, and as always, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism as always appreciated, enjoy :)

Masterlist

Before the 141, Ghost had never celebrated Thanksgiving. He had heard of it, of course, but he would never partake in it. For most of his life, it was just an odd American holiday, a way for them to show their gratitude by gorging themselves on turkey and pies and mashed potatoes. He always thought it was a dumb tradition. If you were really thankful for something, you should show it everyday, not just once a year. But maybe that was just him being bitter, he knew, after all, life had dealt him a shitty set of cards, and he never had much to be thankful for.

Until he joined the 141; until he met you. Ghost had served in the military before, he had liked people before, but there was nothing quite like the 141, nothing quite like you. For one, the 141 was a multinational special operations task force, unlike his last battalion, which was full of Brits. The 141 was filled with operators from all sorts of places, Britain, Scotland, Australia, the Czech Republic, and of course, America. Even though he rarely engaged with the other soldiers, except for Price, Soap, Gaz, and you, he had heard them whispering to each other about Thanksgiving a few weeks back.

And you. There was something different about you. Maybe it was the fact that you were in the 141 with him, that he saw you almost constantly, that he didn’t have to leave you for months at a time. Or maybe it was something else, maybe it was the way you never took yourself too seriously, even when you were in the field; maybe it was the way you hummed to yourself whenever you reloaded your gun; or the way your laughter tugged at his heartstrings whenever he heard it over comms. Whatever it was, it set you apart from everyone else he had ever liked.

He was still thinking about you — not that that was uncommon, he was always thinking of you — when he heard an awkward knock at his door, followed by a muffled call of his name. He looked up from the book he was supposed to be reading, his hand instinctively reaching for his mask on his bedside table. Tugging it over his face, he made his way to the door.

Usually, he could tell who was coming to his room just based on their steps in the hallway. Price’s were solid and firm, like him. Soap’s were heavy and brushed against the floor a lot, as if he was trying to make as much noise as possible. Gaz’s were usually light and quick, like he was rushing somewhere but didn’t want to run. And you, your’s were short and cheery, and almost always accompanied by the sound of you humming. But he didn’t hear any steps recently, not that that was surprising. The rest of the task force had spent the last few hours celebrating and the noise made it hard to hear anything. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t care. It was probably someone’s birthday.

Someone called his name again and carefully, he opened the door a few inches, just enough for him to see out of. He looked down to see you, wearing sweatpants and a tank and carrying two large plates of food. “Do you need something?” he asked.

You hummed, “Can I come in first?” you asked, lifting the two plates up for him to see.

He looked back into his room, checking to make sure it was fit for you to come in. He turned back to you, widening his door and stepping to the side to let you in. He watched as you set the food down on his desk and looked around his room. For some reason, he didn’t know why, he felt slightly nervous as he watched you take in his room. He hadn’t done much to it, the walls were light gray and completely barren; his desk was empty except for a few books, a laptop, a cup of pencils and pens, and an old journal he barely used; his blankets were folded and placed neatly at the end of the bed, which was pushed against the wall, and the only thing that signified that anyone had used it was his slightly crumpled pillow and the book he had left behind.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what do you need?”

You hummed absentmindedly, tilting your head to read the books on his desk. “We missed you at dinner,” you said finally, turning around to look at him.

“Who’s we?” he asked.

“Everyone. Me, Soap, Gaz, even Price asked if you were coming.”

“I never come to dinner,” he said, “why’d everyone start caring now?”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, “Because those were all normal dinners. This was a special dinner, we thought you’d come join us.”

“What’s special about this dinner?”

“What's special?” you asked, your jaw dropping, “what do you mean ‘what’s special?’ It's Thanksgiving, Ghost.”

Oh. He never knew the exact date of Thanksgiving. He knew it was near the end of November and that was pretty much it. If he was being honest, he had assumed it had already passed. “I don’t celebrate,” he told you, “and what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the others, celebrating? And what’s with the food?”

“I know you don’t celebrate, '' you said, “but neither do Soap or Gaz or Price or like, half the people here, and they’re still hanging out with us. And since I knew you wouldn’t come to the party, I figured I’d bring the party to you.”

“I’m not really a party kind of guy,” he said, watching you scrunch your nose in annoyance.

“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes, “then we can just have a lame Thanksgiving in here. What plate do you want?”

He sighed, if there was one thing about you it was that you were stubborn as hell. If you had set your mind on celebrating with him, it was going to take a lot to get you to leave, not that he minded. To be honest, having dinner with you wasn’t the worst way his night could’ve gone. He walked over to the desk, examining the two plates. “They’re the same thing,” you said, “just one has apple pie and the other has pumpkin.”

He turned to you, “Which one do you want?”

You shrugged, “I’m fine with either. You pick.”

He reached for the plate with pumpkin pie, offering the apple one to you. “Sit,” he said, nodding to his bed as he sat down on his desk chair a few feet from you. He watched you take the plate and sit on the bed, scooting carefully until your back rested against the wall.

“Dostoyevsky?” you asked, looking at the book he had left behind.

“Crime and Punishment. You read it?”

You nodded, “Back in high school. I actually really enjoyed it.”

“Me too, figured I’d reread it though. It’s been a while.”

“Oh wait,” you said suddenly, scrambling to put your food back on the desk, “don’t eat, we gotta say what we’re thankful for.”

He leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes as he put his plate down. “Do we really have to?” he asked, “I don’t see the point.”

You scoffed, “The point is expressing your gratitude, Ghost. That’s why it’s called Thanksgiving.”

“But if you were really thankful for something, you would show it everyday. Not once a year.”

This time it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Wow, great philosophy, Ghost,” you said sarcastically. “But for the rest of us who aren’t as noble as you, Thanksgiving is a time for us to remember to be grateful. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually follow your little philosophy,” you said, shooting him a pointed look. “Alright I’ll go first. I am thankful for,” you paused, biting your lip as you thought of an answer. You looked good when you did that, he thought. He wished he could be the one biting it though. “I’m thankful for the fact that I’m alive right now,” you said, “I’m thankful that we don’t have to be in the field today, and I’m thankful for you.”

“You’re thankful for me?” he asked.

“Of course I am, you’ve saved my ass like twenty times in the field and you’re a nice guy anyways. I like hanging out with you.” God, he wished you liked him in other ways too. He knew you would, if you would just give him a chance, he could show you. Show you how good he could be to you, how good he would make you feel, how hard he would make you orgasm. He would make you scream so loud the entire base heard, even with all the noise they were making. “Your turn,” you said, blissfully unaware of his thoughts.

“Do I have to do three?” he asked.

“Mmm, yeah. Why not?”

He sighed, “Alright, I’m thankful for… I’m also thankful for the fact that I’m alive and we don’t have to be in the field today, and,” he paused, trying to think of a third option. “I guess I’m thankful for you too,” he said.

You scrunched your nose at him, “You literally just copied everything I said, Ghost. And also, you suck at showing your gratitude for me every single day.”

“Yeah? Why don’t you give me a chance to make that up to you then?” he asked, his voice lowering.

You stiffened, clenching your thighs together. Was he going where you thought he was going with this? He couldn’t be right? He was your boss, he wasn’t supposed to think of you that way. You weren’t supposed to think of him that way. With his head buried in between your thighs or his hand wrapped around your neck as he slammed into you. “What do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice a lot smaller than you intended.

Shit, Ghost thought. What was he doing? Why did he say that? Why did you clench your legs together like that? Was he turning you on? Was he making you wet? God, he hoped so. He hoped you were thinking the same filthy thoughts as he was. You pinned underneath him with your legs wrapped around him as he thrust into you, or you on your hands and knees with your ass pressed out for him. Fuck, he could feel his cock twitching in his pants already. “What do you want me to mean?” he asked slowly, leaving you to decide how the night would go.

He watched as your eyes flickered down to his cock. He looked down too, he could see it pressing against his sweatpants. He looked back at you as you licked your lips, shifting your weight on your thighs. You slowly brought your gaze up to his, “I want you to mean,” you whispered, so quiet you didn’t even know if he could hear it. “I want you to mean that you want to fuck me.”

It was quiet for a moment, and you held your breath for what felt like forever until he spoke again. “Take off your pants,” he whispered. You didn’t move at first, just stared at him with those big doe eyes of yours. “Don’t make me tell you twice,” he said, his voice laced with lust and menace. You sprang into action, scrambling to kick off your pants as your mind raced with ideas of what he would do to you.

You sat on your knees in front of him, your hands toying with the hem of your tank. You watched him lean forward in his seat, his head nodding at your legs. “Open your legs,” he said, “I wanna see how wet you are.” Fuck, his voice was doing things to you, you could feel yourself get wetter everytime he spoke. Slowly, you opened up your legs, memorizing the way his pupils dilated at the sight of you.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered.

“What?”

He looked back up at you. “I said touch yourself. Rub your clit for me.”

You watched him tilt his eyebrows at you as if to encourage you and you bit your lip. You snaked one of your hands down between your legs, sucking in a breath as you began to rub small circles on your clit. The friction of your underwear was working wonders on you, sending jolts of pleasure up your body whenever the cloth rubbed it the right way. You threw your head back, letting the feeling wash over you as you clenched around nothing.

“Look at me,” you heard him say. You picked your head off the wall, focusing your eyes on his. He wasn’t staring back at you though, he was staring at your cunt, at the way your fingers circled the bundle of nerves at the top, the way your underwear was starting to darken with how wet you were.

You wanted to touch him, or for him to touch you. You stifled a whine as you thought about what it would feel like to have his fingers inside of you. You started to rub your clit faster, biting down on your lip as you tried rocking your hips against the bed.

Meanwhile, Ghost was watching you like you were the most captivating thing in the world, and you were. He could feel his cock getting harder in his pants as it strained against the fabric of his boxers. He had to swallow down a groan when he heard you start to whine. He could see you fighting the urge to close your eyes as the pleasure washed over you, your hand working on your clit furiously.

He grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping your wrist. You looked at him confused, your chest heaving. He didn’t say anything, just looked at you slowly before lowering his gaze to your core. You watched with bated breath as he stood up from his chair, his hands still on your wrist as he moved to the bed. Slowly, his hand lifted yours away from your clit, laying it next to you. He moved his hand to your cunt, his fingers sliding over your folds, admiring how wet he could tell you were even through the underwear.

“Ghost,” you whimpered, looking up at him.

His eyes snapped to yours, “Tell me what you want darling,” he whispered, his voice sultry sweet.

“Touch me. Please,” you mewled.

“I am,” he said, and you could see his mask shift as he grinned.

“Ghost,” you whined, “you know what I mean.”

“Actually,” he said, pulling his hand away from you, “I don’t.”

You huffed at the lack of contact. “I want… I want you to finger me,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Perfect,” he said slowly. His hand slid down your panties and he let out a groan as his fingers came into contact with your wetness. “Shit, all this for me?” he asked, causing you to look away. “Not so fast,” he said, clicking his tongue, “eyes on me, remember?”

You nodded, training your eyes on his as he continued running his fingers through your wetness. You whined as you felt his finger brush over your clit, your breaths shallow as you tried to focus on his eyes. “Ghost,” you whimpered, gripping onto his wrist when you felt him stick a finger inside of you.

He looked up at you lazily, his finger pumping in and out of you. “You like that?” he asked in that gravelly voice of his, causing you to clench around his finger. You nodded, a moan slipping out of your mouth when his palm brushed against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, think you can take another?” he drawled, one of his hands snaking up to grab at your tit.

You whined, nodding your head fervently. “That’s my girl,” he said, adding another finger. You let out a gasp as he started using his thumb to rub steady circles on your clit, your thighs trembling as you tried to keep them open for him. Your mouth fell open as he continued fucking you with his fingers, the sound of his fingers fucking your wet cunt filling the room. You moaned as you felt his fingers curl up inside of you, hitting your sweet spot. He added a third finger, drawing another moan from you as you threw your head back, too consumed by the pleasure he was giving you to remember what he said.

He growled, the hand on your tits snaking up to wrap around your neck as he forced you to look at him. You whined, your hands wrapping around the hand on your throat as his fingers continued thrusting into you. You rocked your hips against his hand desperately, crying out his name as you felt him scissor his fingers inside you.

“Ghost,” you cried, your voice breathy as he kept fingering you. You could feel your orgasm growing, your entire body growing warmer and the knot in your stomach getting tighter as you approached the edge. You didn’t even need to tell him you were close, he could feel it in the way your body began to stiffen and your cunt squeezed him tighter. He kept working you, his fingers sliding and scissoring inside of you until you were at the very edge of the peak, ready to fall over. And then he pulled out.

You whined, your chest heaving from your lost orgasm. You stared up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “What was that for?” you gasped.

He chuckled, admiring your lust-blown pupils. “I want your first orgasm to be with my cock inside of you,” he explained, pulling you up from your knees.

He laid you on your back, letting out a whistle as he peeled your underwear off of your legs. You pushed yourself onto your elbows, watching him with wide eyes as he pulled off his sweatpants. You could see his cock straining against the thin fabric of his boxers, and you licked your lips as you watched him pull it out.

“You like that?” he asked, and you nodded. “You wanna suck it?” Another nod. He let out a low chuckle at that. “Maybe another time. Right now, I just want to be inside you.” You felt your heart flutter at his words, so this wasn’t a one time thing. There would be more times. What did he want out of this, did he just want a fuck buddy? Or did he want something more? You swallowed, silencing your thoughts as you watched his hand pump his cock as beads of precum pooled at the tip.

You sucked in a breath as he leaned over you, one of his hands caging you in as another lined up his cock with your entrance. You gasped as you felt him stretch you out, your eyes squeezing shut. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, you just didn’t realize how big he was. “Shit,” he groaned, dropping his head to your chest as he continued pushing into you, “you feel so fucking good.” You whined, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel his back.

You mewled as he bottomed out inside of you, your chest heaving as you clenched around him. It felt so good to have him inside of you, it was like he was made for you. He stretched you out so perfectly, leaving you teetering between the edge of pain and pleasure. Slowly, he started moving his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you. “Ghost,” you whined, “give me more.”

You heard him curse to himself, “Are you sure?” he asked.

You nodded, letting out a moan as he began thrusting into you faster. Ghost groaned as he fucked you. You felt so good squeezing around him. How long had he wanted this? He couldn’t remember. He could barely think, if he was honest, his whole world was consumed by the way you took him in so easily. He snaked a finger down to your clit, reveling in the way you moaned so loudly for him, reveling in the sounds of his cock slamming into your tight cunt. He slammed his hips into you harder, savoring the way your mouth dropped open and your eyes squeezed shut whenever he hit your sweet spot. He could practically feel his chest swell with pride as moan after moan fell from your lips, your voice raw from crying out his name.

You could feel your orgasm coming again as he continued fucking you, the coil deep in the pit of your stomach tightening and threatening to burst. You could barely even register the sounds coming out of you, they sounded foreign and distant, unnaturally high pitched and whiny to be your own. “Ghost,” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist, trying to push him deeper inside of you. “I’m—”

“You about to cum?” he asked, recognizing the way you stiffened and clenched around him. You nodded furiously, your eyebrows knit together. “Fuck, the way you’re squeezing me I’m about to cum too,” he said, with a low chuckle, “go ahead and cum for me darling. Let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

You cried out his name, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back as the coil in your stomach finally snapped and your orgasm washed through you, racking your body with delicious waves of pleasure. You could feel him continue to thrust into you as you rode out your orgasm, your mind hazy and lust-drunk. Through lidded eyes, you watched his hips begin to stutter inside of you. You watched him dip his head in his shoulders, moaning your name as he came inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, with him on top of you, slightly heavy but not suffocating, both of your chests heaving as you thought about what happened.

With a grunt, Ghost pushed himself off of you, stopping to admire your lust-blown pupils, messy hair, and unfocused eyes. He watched you blink slowly, your eyes turning to his as a smile came over your face. “What?” he asked, standing up.

“Since your whole thankfulness philosophy says that if you’re grateful for something you should show it every day, does that mean we’re gonna be doing this every single day?”

He rolled his eyes, “You still on about that?” he asked, making his way over to his bathroom and wetting a towel. “I thought we already established that my philosophy needs some work.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to have sex with me every day?” you asked, sucking in a breath as he wiped you down.

“That’s not what I meant, don’t put words in my mouth,” he said, pulling on his sweatpants before tossing you yours. “Put your pants on, the food you brought’s cold now, let’s get another plate,” he said, glad that the mask hid the childish smile. You rolled your eyes, tugging on your pants but leaving your ruined underwear on his bed. He could keep it, you had plenty more.

Ghost chuckled as he watched your legs buckle when you tried to stand, letting you struggle for a moment before he went over to help you. In a way, he could sort of see why people celebrated Thanksgiving. Before, he never had a reason to. He wasn’t American, he didn’t have any friends or family to celebrate with, and he didn’t have anything to be thankful for. But now? Now it was different. Now he had you.

#bingoboingobongo.com #ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost modern warfare 2 #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost smut #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #ghost angst #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #simon riley mw2 #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader

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httpiastri · 2 months

Text

okay so i started writing on a boyfriend!paul blurb for after the race today, but then i deleted it and wrote this instead: a short snippet of a future chapter of the "the way i loved you" fic 😋 pretty short but it's all i can produce rn lol. will likely have some changes when i post the actual chapter. aiming to post the first things from the fic soon !!! hope u enjoy 😚

series masterlist

paul is beaming when you see him stroll back to the paddock after his media duties. his cap is perched on top of his head – the right cap, finally – and his fingers are still tightly wrapped around the neck of his champagne bottle. when he notices you leaning against the doorframe leading into the f2 hospitality, his smile grows even bigger.

you meet him halfway, arms wrapping around his shoulders easily, just like they have so many times before. one of his arms drapes around your waist and he holds you close, a hum vibrating from his chest. "congrats, paul," you tell him. "that was amazing. you were amazing."

"thank you," he says before pausing. then, he lets out a chuckle. "to be honest, i wasn't sure if you would care."

you frown at him when you pull slightly away from him, just enough to look into his eyes. is that what he really thought? that you wouldn't care about his driving? "oh, please. you still mean a lot to me, okay?" your hand moves down to his upper arm, giving it a soft squeeze. "i still consider you to be one of my closest friends."

friends. the word stings like a knife in his heart. it's been months since you broke up, and yet, it still feels like a raw wound.

paul forces a smile. he understands that despite how painful it is, there's something good in it. there's still a place for him in your heart, even if he's forced to share it with someone else.

he pulls you in again, and the hug is even tighter now than before. it's a comforting feeling; you're both at peace, with a good weekend behind you, in the arms of someone so close to you. after everything you've gone through together, but especially everything he has gone through these last few months with the mercedes academy and so on, you're finally through to the other side. "it all worked out in the end, huh?" you ask after a few moments of silence.

"i guess it did." you part from each other to leave that oh-so-familiar gap between you yet again. "will you be celebrating with us tonight? i think pepe had something planned. you know how he is."

you snort. "yeah, i do know. maybe i will." you shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms over your chest as your eyes dart to the ground. "but, um... i'll have to check with..."

you don't even say his name – you don't have to. ollie didn't just have a bad race today; the entire weekend has been so far from everyone's expectations. and if you know him correctly, he will not be in the mood for celebrations tonight.

paul just nods slowly, pressing his lips into a thin line. "right."

the silence that follows is so awkward you can't help but chew on your bottom lip, a tiny sigh escaping through your mouth. he must be hating this, you think – today is supposed to be only a good day for him, he shouldn't have his ex's new relationship pushed up in his face.

"well, i have a debrief to get to," you make up, flashing him a quick smile. "congrats again, paul."

"thank you." he gives you another nod, before turning away and making his way towards the paddock. "pepe will text you!"

and just like that, he's off, and your mind wanders to the thought of actually going out to celebrate. ollie will definitely not join you, though you're not sure why you don't want to go without him. is it because you'd rather stay and comfort him?

or is it because you're scared of what you'll do, or feel, when you're alone with paul for the first time since you broke up?

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chiliyue-archived · 10 months

Text

One more kiss or maybe three

↬sometimes Riddle needs the reminder to rest

Includes; Riddle Rosehearts

GN!Reader

Tags; early bday gift for @cupids-chamber but anyone can read it <3

[Twst M.List] ♡

Clack clack clack

The sound of pen meeting paper, you came to learn, was rather obnoxious when listening to the same drone again and again and again. What hour was it now? You'd had lost sense of time as minutes molded into an impeccably long hour.

Your scarlet lover was a busy one, you couldn't hold it against him for the hefty amount of duties he had to perform now and again; however, such responsibilities kept you waiting beyond the hours of twilight just so you can bid a goodnights rest with him by your side.

Riddle Rosehearts would scoff at this behavior, finding it rather unhealthy(while he himself failing to recognize the hypocrisy in his words). His mouth would move in slow drawls, urging you to sleep in his absence and that he mustn't keep you from your subconscious.

" My rose, it is unwise to force yourself awake. Please get some sleep. I will join you soon." The words left him nonchalantly, his eyes stilling on the words dipped within the parchment. He moved his pen to position it upon the page, gliding it with ease whilst his free hand fiddled with spare documents.

Such concerns would fall on deaf ears and a cordial, " It's alright, I can wait," would slip from your lips. And such responses would coax a tingle of guilt to gnaw on Riddle's mind.

He truly felt awful for keeping you awake at late hours for his own needs, but a dormleaders' work is an upmost task. Even at the betrayal of his desires.

Tonight, his workload just happened to more than usual, he wasn't fond of it of it but it couldn't be helped.

However, while also acting upon the role of leadership, he also had to uphold his role - arguably similar in prestige - his academic studies. Normally, the Roseheart boy would plow through his paperwork and coursework with ease albeit with droopy eyes and buckling knees at the end of it - however, for reasons he struggled to fathom, his duties only doubled that week. His mother would certainly be displeased.

You were not blind to the way his shoulders sagged with each document he filed away, his fingers becoming sluggish, and the writing was starting to become ineligible. Nor did you turn a blind eye to small yawns he gave or the way his eyes flickered to the clock - a look of disappointment would flash on his features at just how much time has passed. And how much work was still left. It was evident in his stature, dropping with the weight of gravity.

"Perhaps we should turn in for the night." You mumbled your concerns, vacating the seat and instead coming to lean beside him. From this new angle, you could clearly see the bags in his eyes, taunting him in a display of mockery. The temptation to kiss it away was compelling, and your knuckle went to brush aside his stray strands.

Though your lover was the stubborn one, it didn't surprise you when he replied; " I will finish here soon, but please get some rest yourself."

Despite his laud achievements, even he couldn't suppress the urge to recline against your touch as your fingers ran along his sculp. A hum escaped him the more your nails lightly slaved to rose colored strands. And while he's been privy to such actions many times before, a light pink nonetheless doused his cheeks, deepening the longer your ministrations persisted.

You couldn't help but grin when he placed the mountain pen down, his eyes squeezing shut soon following. In a show of tenderness, a gloved hand reached out for your own.

Muscle memory kicked in, his lips pressing to the flat of your hand like he had done so, so many times at unbirthday parties. It still made his heart quake in a candor he struggled to scribe words upon - but it made his stomach tumble over a stirring of emotions.

He came to associate those emotions with a sense of warmth. It tickled and squeezed his heart far more than anything else did, and the feeling was palpable even long after your touch withdrew. It was embedded in hot streaks, cascading down his spine and coaxing mild shivers in his wistful reminiscent moments. It was unsavory how it would soon fade away, merciless to time - however, he never had to wait too long until he felt your familiar touch once again.

Silver eyes glanced at the ticking clock. It was terribly late indeed.

A sigh of resignation slipped him - and that's how you knew you won. " I suppose I should credit myself some leisure time." His murmur came out more to himself than to you and his head dipped in consideration.

A silence shrouded over the room. Before long, his gaze directed back to you, cheeks stretching to accommodate a gentle smile.

He was still getting used to that - smiling. For something so humane, it felt oddly alienated to him. But he was slowly familiarizing himself with it. He noted how the gesture was always flickered to his lips when he was in your presence. Smiles were associated with joy or some form of saccharine feeling. You had always filled him with vitality, so it only made sense.

He can't clearly recall when he last smiled prior to attending the school. His mind went vacuous whenever he called upon the memory. He does, however, remember having a nose stuck within a book at all times with his mother's voice in the background.

Still, the emotions you stirred meandered in a questioning trail. The abstruse truth was far from his knowledgeable mind, but he wasn't too frightened by that.

His reverie halted as your hands peeled him away from his desk, lightly tugging off the accessories that clung to his person. Afterward, you gave Riddle the time to properly dress into his night clothing.

You were already in bed when you felt the mattress dip in weight. Instinctively, his body arched to meet yours, hands - now freed from its gloves - moving around your waist. His pulse echoed in his ear as your chest pressed against his own, your head finding solace on his shoulder.

The gaze you sent him heated his body far more than the thick blanket did. It was punctuated by the fanning of your breathing - caressing his collarbone at regular intervals. Without realizing it, his hand had gravitated to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered. He didn't want to lose your touch just yet.

" Can I get a goodnight kiss?" He chatised himself with how shy his voice left him; however, it complimented the reddening of his cheeks even in the poorly lit setting.

You laughed softly to yourself, your "of course" barely audible. Leaning up, you pressed your lips to his carefully - he still had the faint sweet taste of jam from earlier. Riddle's hand traveled down to the dip of your back, holding you in place even as you withdrew.

" Another one, please?"

He was terribly pliant to your kisses despite being unable to admit it outloud. Even your touches yielded a similar effect and even more so your words. His penchant to your affection was unmatched, and your love felt like slices of dessert. His stomach grows full yet perpetually more greedy for each taste. And his heart feels even fuller in yearning of you. Just you.

He has heard a saying before that home was where the heart is. When envisioning home, his hometown residence always came to his mind in full clarity. The same place that stripped him of his empathy and tailored him to a life curated not by his own wants but his mother's.

And yet, he was also greeted by your gentleness. Reconstructing his marred understanding of emotions with patience and rewarding him with your love - even when he was greatly so undeserving of it.

As you press pecks along his warming cheeks, Riddle couldn't help but wonder if home was where you were. You had ownership of his heart, that much was certain. And you cradled it gently even when his demons surfaced.

And for a second, he pondered how much of a future he held with you. He questioned how much of his reverie was fatuous thinking as a means of satisfying his heart and how much it would be truly possible. Selfishly, he made a silent plead for it to be latter.

But for now, he centered his foucs back to you. For right now home was with you in this bed - smothering him kisses and leaving him breathless until sleep eventually overtook him.

He hopes to have you in his dreams.

A/n; sorry if this is just a bleh of words. I've been writing for the past idk hours. Poorly proofread too

Feedback is appreciated !!

Anyways, happy birthday, love/p. I hope this made you smile:)

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #riddle imagines #twst fluff #twst imagines #twst x y/n #riddle fluff #twst oneshot #twst scenarios #riddle Rosehearts fluff #twisted wonderland fluff

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

Text

OCTOBER 31ST. DEADPOOL FT. SPIDER-MAN

"you might be wondering why the red suit. well, that’s so bad guys don’t see me bleed."

♱ — katsuki bakugou ft. izuku midoriya + cucking.

♱ — synopsis; with great power, comes great responsibility— such as one’s duty to pleasure his girlfriend ( though failing ), luckily a certain mercenary is able to swing by and take over such a big responsibility on spidey’s behalf.

♱ —length; 7.8K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, cucking, threesomes, auralism, dacryphilia, voyeurism, cumplay, mutual masturbation, dry humping, body worship, facials, fingering ( f!receiving ), oral sex ( m!receiving ), mask!kink, fem!reader, deadpool!bakugou, spider-man!deku. not beta read !

♱ — notes; and with that, kinktober is over! thank you to everyone who supported me along the way!! please enjoy this last fic, i realy hope that you like it and have a safe halloween!! ily mwah <3 - m.list₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

“yanno,” you say wistfully, dabbing away at a cut underneath your boyfriend’s dazzling green eyes. “i think you got away pretty lightly this time.”

deku hums, forcing away a wince as the rubbing alcohol seeps into the shallow wound— you let him squeeze your hand instead. “aside from my blood dripping across your floor, i’d pretty much agree.” despite how many times he’d sat on your bedroom floor, letting you coddle him and tend to his scrapes and scratches— the cleaning part never got easier. “deadpool always gets me into extra trouble whenever we work together.”

your gaze flickers up to izuku’s in concerned warning, having him stumble into your apartment at ridiculous hours was all fine and dandy when he just needed to be babied and had a boo-boo on his head, but ever since working with whoever this deadpool guy was— your precious boy had been littered with all sorts of stab wounds and now your shifty handiwork stitches. today the bank robbery with said mercenary left your boyfriend with the graze of a bullet, and he was lucky to get away with just that.

“‘m worried about you izuku,” your body keens into his warm hands and soft touch as the superhero pulls you into his lap, fingertips sliding over the curve of your ass and over the fat at your hips lovingly— not even sexually at first, as if each little caress grounds you both, slowing your head beats and filtering out the adrenaline of the night.

he’s so warm, it reminds you that he’s alive and breathing, safe with you for another night. “i’ll try to be more careful, hm?” sensing the spike in your emotions, izuku leans forward with his nose nudging along yours, his lips dragging over the seam of your own, as if to tease you— a reward to follow if you calm down.

“i want you safe,” you huff with no fire behind your words, just about pouting before deku has you locked in a soft, barely-there kiss.

“it’s part of the job,” he says back, quietly, and there’s a beat of silence between you both where longing gazes are cast over features twitching into needy expressions— and before you know it, your mouth is slotted perfectly against his, bruisingly close as your tongue licks into izuku’s hot cavern, searching for is. the once chaste kiss turns sloppy, spit swapped between hungrily moving lips, your noses nudging and lungs burning for the air you won’t get, being joined like this.

even when you do come up for air, you’re back on one another in seconds— practised hands used to fight crime and save lives, trickle up your spine to the base of your neck, pulling you into deku’s web of wanton, one you don’t see yourself wanting to be free from any time soon. his thumb presses nimbly into your throat, an amused chuckle resounding in the base of his own when your eyes grow misty and your tongue rolls out eagerly— with a hankering to be kissed again.

“you want another?”

“i want you.”

now panting, your fingers surge up into forest green locks so you can tug izuku the rest of the way—your teeth sink into his lower lip for you to pull back slowly, gingerly while you hint at your need for more; giving izuku one last chance to call it quits for the night or kiss you properly like you want. he needs you just as badly as you need him, driving forward with the taste of you crackling like dopamine against the neurons in his brain. his heated pink muscle grazes over the swell of your lips, only just quelling the spark of hunger now pumping from his heart into his blood before you welcome him into your mouth with a debauched little sigh that falls into the tail end of a moan.

deku grunts low, in bliss, at the noise, hips jumping up as if triggered by your sweet sounds and your tongues dance together instead of fighting— spit slicked and sliding over one another, down each other’s throats until your makeout is far more heated than anticipated. you seize the opportunity to guide your boyfriend’s free latex gloved hand to your waist once more, giving him the control to guide the flow of your hips while you grind down onto him, grinning at the stiff press of is hard on against your panties through the spider-man suit.

he seems to get the picture, growing handsier by the second and manhandling you back and forth against his swelling cock, izuku’s breath’s much heavier than before. “fuck baby,” he whines into your wet mouth, his lips cherry red and raw, all because of you. “feel what you do to me? so hard…already— for you…” there’s a flutter of pride in your chest, knowing that you’re the one that’s able to make the spider-man a mess like this after he puts on a brave face for the city. only you get to see the cocky, webbed hero hump you like a mangy dog, circling his hips and pushing his throbbing erection against your fat folds in desire— latex covered hands exploring every inch of you they can.

izuku’s lips fall to your shoulder, licking and sucking a trail of kisses up to your neck— nipping here and there, so that bruised blossom under your skin in a signature of off coloured love bites. “wanna fuck you,” he says between the wetter smooches, whispering the words into the junction between your jaw and neck. “gonna lemme, oh shit— fuck you, love?”

your body vibrates at deku’s promiscuous words— each far from the goodie two shoes persona he puts on for the world. he wants to make you feel that badly despite being beaten to shit, and knowing that is enough to spark a fire in your lower belly, the best shooting down to your pussy which flutters as you drag it back and forth across his hard-on through the blue and red suit.

running your fingers through his already mask-missed hair, you map out each little detail of izuku midoriya— his sun spotted cheeks, B-road shoulders and muscled arms, that slender waist of his hidden away by stretchy blue and red fabric. he’s yours, and he’s desperate for you, aching and leaky for you. “gonna let’cha fuck me, ‘zu, need you to take me.”

all of a sudden, he’s like a kid on Christmas unwrapping a present ( in a way you are, his gift after a fucked up day fighting crime ), padding up your spine until you shiver— drawing his name against your back until a finger hooks on the strap of your bra. you’re only wearing a t-shirt, the jagged letters of Spider-Man printed on and peeling off the front, but it’s not like either of you care. the loose fabric gives your boyfriend easy access, unhooking the material with ease and letting it fall down your front. you only part for a moment to let your arms slip through from under your shirt— tossing the sage green garment to the side shortly afterwards.

he can smell you, the salacious and honeyed scent of your sex hanging in the heated, vibrating particles in the air between you. “god baby, how do you always get this wet, this fast.” deku simpers in a tone of awe, two latex fingers pressed into your soaked core, watching you twitch, your body burning up with a new wave of heat. he squeezes your clit, admiring the way you pulse under his hold, tip of his finger then moving to run between your folds to build up the sensation of delightful pleasure inside you.

“don’t get distracted,” you manage to scold your boyfriend, words falling away into a breathy sigh when his mouth latches onto your clothed and budding nipple from under his shirt—he hums in content around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, happy to toruture you like this. your hands ground yourself in his wild hair, pushing him back from your stimulated chest. “get naked, i think you promised me some dick, ‘zu,”

smiling, the green haired hero reaches up to peck you on the lips. “you’re right, you’re right…mind helping me get out of my suit?” he asks, pulling his working digits away from your cunt in awe, staring at the clear strings of essence that connect them while you nod. wrapping your arms around him, you catch the zipper on the spidey-suit and pull it down, moving back so izuku can shake off his sleeves.

but you’re impatient when you’re horny, frustration fogging your brain as midoriya struggles to get out of the costume he designed. he flails about, the sight only serving to turn you off even further, minute by minute. you love your boyfriend— you do, he’s sweet and nerdy, and you adore that he saves the world… but things like this happen a lot, and you only wished he would take some time out, putting it aside for you. to separate you from his save-the-world-bullshit.

“here, let me help,” you pout, hands on him once more— tugging and pulling at his arms and chest while izuku struggles against the latex with burning, bright red freckled cheeks. he whimpers at every cascade of your finger tips, breath hitching here and there as you work with each other to get it off.

until deku stills, green forest eyes screwing shut, a warmth flooding his lap.

“did you just—?”

“y-yeah?” he stutters, clearly embarrassed by cumming in his pants. “s-sorry, love, i’m sorry—“

with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, you back off of deku’s lap, shoulders sagging with relief as you look for your underwear in the mess of your room. “it’s whatever,” you shrug it off, not finding them before standing up and away from your boyfriend. “‘m gonna grab some snacks and we can watch some shitty cartoons, and pretend this didn’t happen.”

you leave the room before izuku can catch wind of how disappointed you really are— knowing he might struggle to get it up a second time. the stress of saving the world can do that to you apparently. usually he’ll make it up to you with that silver spider-man tongue of his, the same one that’s chatty with quips directed at villains…but tonight, that just won’t do.

tonight you’d really needed him.

“fuck me,” izuku sighs heavily, laying back on the floor— suit sticky and tight against the skin of his thighs after cumming in it prematurely. submerged in his own self pity— he fails to notice the telling tingle of his enhanced senses, and the sound of your bedroom window sliding up.

“after that shit show? nah, no thanks,” izuku jumps up, gaze shooting over to the window where deadpool pops his head through. “was pretty sad to watch.” the mercenary makes himself comfortable, sliding into the room before crossing one leg over the other as he sits on the window ledge.

you choose that exact moment to re-enter the room, a tray full of snacks and warm drinks to smooth over the awkward evening with your boyfriend. “‘zu, i made you some cocoa, how you like, i’m sorry for the way i reacted earlier i just—“ glancing up as you push through the door, your eyes dart between your boyfriend, Spider-Man, and the new red and black dressed figure— a scream ripping through your body as you drop the tray, deku’s webs catching it safely before the items hit the floor.

deadpool only screams back, covering his face with gloved hands as if to mock his own shock.

“who the fuck are you?” after you regain your bearings, you’re launching at the heavily armed stranger in your apartment; his feet swinging and the white eyes in his mask animatedly moving in a widening motion. you grab the nearest and closest thing you have to a weapon ( a butter knife used to spread pb on your boyfriend’s crackers ) and throw it at the intruder, lodging it into his shoulders just before deku trips you up with a few more webs. “how the fuck did you get into my house?”

“ah, well ya see. ‘m always pickin’ the locks whenever i visit spidey over here— but i must’ve gotten the wrong address this time round.” the intruder sings, peering down at you. you feel like he’s reading your soul through the mask and start to scramble again. “ya never told me how hot your girlfriend was, bugboy. if i look at her any longer Cupid might shoot my ass with a tiny, pointy arrow.”

“i-it was none of your business!” deku grunts, holding you down with webs, another horrified yell building up within you as deadpool pulls the knife from his shoulder and the wound hole closes up on its own. “baby— deadpool, aka kacchan. deadpool— my girlfriend.”

“well, pleasure to meet you, sweetheart,” deadpool…kacchan coos in response, stepping down to use a gloved hand, taking yours in his own and kissing the back of it.

you’d been warned about deadpool, the heinous crimes he committed in cold blood, his playful attitude towards life threatening situations with his dangerous anti-hero attitude, which was less than ideal to work with— all the forewarnings your pretty, goody two shoes neighbourhood hero boyfriend had fed you. but right now, gazing up at the red suited mercenary, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be scared because you hadn’t been warned about how hot he sounded with the gravel in his voice, how built he looked under layers of leather that had clearly been used in combat or war.

coughing, and ruining the moment that has your skin burning, deku clears his throat to ask. “what are you doing here, ‘pool?”

“came to invite you out for celebratory drinks, buddy! we kicked ass t’day, and that’s what friends do, right?” kacchan’s white masked eyes give you both the once over, forming somewhat of a grimace— from what you can tell. “but i see you’re kinda busy with…other, failed plans.”

“we didn’t fail! we were just hooking up, that’s what couples do!”

“barely counts as hooking up shitty spider, can barely keep yer fuckin’ dick up!

as the two super-enhanced dummies argue their way through the situation— you sit mortified, your sex life ( what of it ) sitting bare on the table for the two men to openly to discuss. “i-it’s not always like this!” you gasp, desperately trying to shut them both down.

they both look over to you, kacchan clearly amused. “that’s the sixth fuckin’ time this month!”

“you keep count?” deku squeaks, voice rising anoctave.

“only on tuesdays and fridays, and i gotta admit— your girlfriend has such pretty tits, i dunno how you can’t pop a stiffy just lookin’ at those things, so round…s’soft,” he sounds like his mouth is watering, words sloshed around the spit pooling on his tongue. “i bet they feel as soft as those puppies from the ryan reynolds puppy interview.” bakugou says, looking somewhere off that you can’t see, yours and deku’s eyes follow it to the wall but don’t spot anything.

“who the fuck are you talking to?”

“them, the readers. filthy sluts they are. hi gorgeous…we’ll get to the smutty parts in a bit, kay?” then, deadpool turns back to you. “any fuckin’ ways, i think i’d fuck you better, hah? i can be somewhat of a tender lover,” kacchan sings, the last of his words falling into a gentle whisper. you hear the protests of your boyfriend in the distance, but it does nothing to quell the overwhelming lust tingling at the tips of your fingers and toes, clinging to every crevice of your mind. you wonder if you’re a bad girlfriend for even considering the proposal. “oh come on spidey, you can’t tell me you’ve never imagined someone else fucking your girl?”

within an instant, the masked assassin, katsuki bakugou, ( better known as deadpool ), yanks you up from the floor and spins you into his chest— your back to it, bending you into midoriya’s view. he gives a single, calculated thrust from behind for demonstration, the weight of his cock beneath layers of tarnished red and black leather, bumping against your cunt; knowing what it’ll do to you— cloud your judgement, make you whimper and whine.

between your gasps and sighs of increasing wanton, bakugou let’s his clothed hands travel up your Spider-Man shirt—drawing goosebumps along your skin as they make their way up to your breasts. “i’ll make you a deal,” squeezing the warm fleshy mounds between killer fingers, he pinches your nipples until you arch your back away from his chest with parted lips. “you let me fuck your girlfriend’s cunt and i won’t leak it to the press that you’ve got erectile dysfunction!”

“that’s not true!” izuku whines as if he’s a kicked puppy, cheeks flaming hot and red underneath his sunspot freckles.

an evil, breathy chuckle leaves kacchan’s lips, emitted through his mask against the shell of your ear— sending your body into a fit of shivers, liquid gold gathering between your bare folds at the sound. “sure it’s not, but they don’t know that.” you feel like crying, all the anticipation built up from dry humping your boyfriend earlier coming to a head as soon as you feel deadpool’s fingers on your clit, tapping the tiny sensitive bud as if to see how much it controls your pleasure, how responsive you are to his touch.

the sight of your eyes rolling back from a simple motion over your clit makes blood rush from his heart right down to deku’s cock, bringing it to life again, aching with need. “i don’t… i dunno,” he mumbles, sitting up and leaning forward to watch deadpool play between your thighs, pull pretty moans from between your angel lips. “if this is such a good idea—“

“please ‘zu!” you beg, a quivering mess from just a few strokes to your pretty pussy. “please izuku… please!”

and it’s as if the two men come to a mutual understanding, your boyfriend nods eagerly and the mercenary laughs again in satisfaction. “perfect! now keep still sweetheart, wanna be careful not to cut you up too badly,” he murmurs into the back of your neck. “blood doesn’t wash out too easily, that’s why i use lemon juice ‘n seltzer water. and i wouldn’t want t’mess you up too bad.” your eyes widen in protest when you hear the clang of metal and feel a cool blade practically run up your spine. your stare locks with the trusting one of izuku, who’s hand is already making work rubbing oje off on his new erection beneath the seedy wet stain on his suit, and it takes you a second to realise the man had used the katana strapped to his back to slice through your sleep shirt, causing the fabric to fall way from your chest. “better.”

in the next moment, you’re manhandled face down and ass up onto the bed, izuku moving to sit opposite you against the pillows to watch the scene unfold. you feel bare, fully naked with your glistening cunt on display to the hungry leers of a stranger you don’t know. a man who kills for fun and for sport. “i-it’ll be okay, love,” spidey does his best to reassure you, tentatively taking your fingers in his and pressing a kiss to them— but you don’t miss the way his free hand squeezes his latex bound, weighty balls impatiently.

“so cute, it’s like ‘m watchin’ and aftercare scene straight outta my little pony!” kacchan rolls his eyes beneath his mask, ruining your gentle moment before he turns away to look into the distance again to address his audience. “who’s yer favourite, reader? mine’s the unicorn but between you and me? twilight’s a fuckin’ cock sucking bitch.” with the focus back on you both, bakugou takes a hold of the globes of your ass— pulling them wide apart to get a wiff of your sweet arousal, a glorious view of how they stay connected by strings of your growing slick. “thatsa pretty view,”

squeezing deku’s fingers, and katsuki wastes no time easing one thick digit into your eager hole— pushing whatever leaks from your pussy back into you. your mouth falls open as he curls it, searching for that gummy spot inside you that midoriya knows by heart and hums behind the mask when you spasm around him— locking the finger inside your sweet cunt. “‘nother, c-can i have another?” the way you rasp out your words is like an aphrodisiac to both men, deku’s dick twitching as if you’ve called out for him while his anti-hero coworker groans, clapping his free hand against your ass, watching it jiggle and your juices glue them together again. “p-please, ‘zuku— please, i’ll be good— s-so good,”

spiderman has always been someone to help those in need, and you’re his pathetic little baby— who needs him, needs izuku to feel good and to cum. he can always do that. “i know love,” he inhales sharply, green eyes clouding over like a forest suffocated in a black smog of fiery lust. deku pervertedly looks between your perfectly arched ass, deadpool scissoring another finger into you, and your adorable face— lips between your teeth, eyes fluttering and he can’t help but soothe the pulse in his drooling cock by palming it once more while watching you. “k-kacchan, let’s add another finger, yeah? make her—“

“shut the fuck up, would’ya pretty boy?” katsuki snarls, twisting his fingers along the insatiable, streaming cavern of your core until you choke on a moan. “let’s not forget who’s doin’ the fucking here.” he tells both you and your boyfriend, reminding you of your places. “we had a deal, bug boy,” he punctuates each of his words with a ravishing thrust of his digits past your sluice entrance, making you claw at the sheets and sink your nails into deku’s hand. “and if you want somethin’ pretty girl, you gotta ask for it.”

“d-deadpool,” you plead wetly, lightheaded from the heated excitement of finally being fucked in the way you deserve. “please…”

“it’s katsuki, baby,” there’s movement behind you again, and before you can ask what’s happening—katsuki bakugou is between your trembling thighs from behind, aggressively pulling his mask up and over his chin and nose as if he’s just as needy for this as you are. “‘m gonnna tongue fuck ya,” he says like it’s a statement, his husky voice wavering wwith an appetite for sex. katsuki sounds so much better without the mask, the sound of the deep chocolate octaves of his voice only making you gush around his fingers that plug you full. “and you’re gonna watch, spidey-fuck. god you’re so much more fuckin’ pathetic here than in the comics.”

red eyes behind the white of the mask swill up the way your mound shines under the night and clenches around his gloved fingers that stuff you nice and full. deadpool’s nose nestles itself between your swollen, wet folds— breathing in deep in the nastiest way possible while his cock throbs at the scent of your arousal. it’s then that he juts his head upwards, nudging against your clit that grows even more prominent with each wave of sex hormone laden blood that rushes to it.

“oi underoos, c’mere— lay down on the bed ‘n kiss her while i make out with this little cunt like a horny teenager on prom night.” deadpool sounds excited, happy to be the reason that heat sparks under your skin like being pricked with hot metal— his tongue darts out from his sinful mouth to trace over the length of your slit, humming in content at your honeyed taste. “fuck me, it must be christmas.” bakugou kicks his feet, deku crawling to be flat on his stomach before you. “web her down, she keeps squirmin’.” he adds, practically bouncing for joy when deku uses his web slingers to tie your waist to the bed.

just as your hero boyfriend saves you from letting out a pornographic moan, slotting his own mouth against yours, your uninvited guest does the same— pressing his own to the entirety of aroused sex, sucking greedily at the dribble of slick coming from you like a broken tap. you feel so overwhelmed, two tongues licking at you in two different places. izuku’s tongue slides lazily over yours, head tilting to swallow your voracious, agonised deplores.

“baby y’sound so pretty,” izuku whines, already rutting his hips onto the bed in the same pace that kacchan eats you out, dragging his tongue in circles over your tight hole, faster and faster the louder you get, struggling to keep quiet even as deku kisses you sloppily. hormones breach the air between the three of you, rattling around like crazed particles only served to make you feel dizzy, controlling every movement of your body as you buck your hips back onto the masked face of the man controlling your pleasure, riding out everything on the tip of his tongue. “s’wet down there too…does she taste good kacchan?”

the sounds of katsuki slurping and sucking every drop of your essence from your mound before it can drip onto the sheets below. reluctantly, he pulls away from your slit— connected to your sticky pussy by ropes of your creamy arousal. “like fuckin’ heaven,” he looks up to the ceiling. “sorry big guy,” right before digging back in, the mercenary spitting onto your cunt and watching as the frothy mixture slides down the length of you. in his next movements, he grabs your hips and yanks you back onto his mouth until his tongue is all the way inside of you, the pink muscle writing against ribbed, souse walls. “yer such a mess down here sweetheart, you gettin’ off to this? being used by someone who ain’t your man?”

there’s a guttural rasp in bakugou’s words spoken against the rising temperature between your thighs, marred skin of his chin shining with your viscous arousal. he makes you a mess, ruins you for better or for worse— you can’t tell. you can’t even tell what’s up or down. izuku is in no better shape than you, shamelessly bucking his hips into the sheets below just from watching your expressions as katsuki fucks you with his tongue like it’s his cock.

the bed creaks lowly beneath the weight of your ministrations, every lick and suck, perhaps bite from the anti-hero against your pathetically soaked pussy has your entire body in mind-numbing shivers and shakes, legs threatening to give out on you at any moment. “c-can i cum?” you stutter out, tensing when gloved fingers are once more slipped past the frothing white ring of your entrance— it’s a tight fit, has your eyes bulging and your fingers clawing at anything to hold onto, your boyfriend the victim.

he senses the pain of your death grip before he feels it, supernatural senses causing the feeling to mix into a delightful sting, pulling deku under and stealing his breath from his lungs watching you unravel for another man. it bricks up his length, his seedy precum covered tip catching on the ridges of fabric wrinkling in your bedsheets. everything only intensifies when the mercenary draws a knife from his holster, daring to drag the material against the curve of your ass, smiling wickedly at your attempts to move away from the cold blade despite craving the digits currently plunged inside of you.

he might cum in his suit again, mouth falling open with your own— your moans mingling in unison for a sweet song like a harmony to deadpool’s ears.

“whaddya say spidey, should i let ‘er cum?” deadpool goads, fingers fucking into you at a godspeed pace, tongue tracing his chicken scratch signature into your puffy, overworked clit— keeping you on a tilted ledge familiar to you, right before your high. “should i make your girl cum?”

fat, weighty tears build up in your eyes, the decision sitting in the sex tainted air as your boyfriend holds back his own orgasm. “yes, g-god yes, please let her cum kacchan.”

you feel it creeping up at you, ready to drown you out in endorphins— but as soon as the twisting feeling in your gut comes, it’s quickly ripped away from you, katsuki’s fingers pulling from your sex only to grip at your waist and hoist you how he wants you, despite your whines and begs to feel release.

“nah,” he says simply. “she won’t get t’cum till you do, and you won’t until i do, now isn’t that a plot twist.” he adds addressing you the reader this time, hardly breathing as he yanks down the leather of his pants to grab hold of his dick, thrusting it back and forth between your pussy lips as if they’re welcoming him home— met with resistant only when pushing into, despite how much he’d stretched out your little hole. “didn’t i open ya up enough sweetheart? you’re still so fuckin’ tight…or maybe spidey doesn’t get his cock in you enough to make a difference.”

deku sits up at the change in position, a superhero strength taking over him as he rips through his latex suit— finally bringing some relief to his erection. your boyfriend’s cock feels and looks different to deadpool’s… he’s longer where katsuki is thick, pale with a pretty pink tip covered in white from how turned on he is from watching you get ruined by someone he’s worked with. your own mouth waters, watching izuku take hold of his curved shaft that pulses with the mean words his colleague spits at him— precum clings to each vein, adding a sinful shine to the length of him, guiding the steady movements of his fist that cups his cock…enjoying the show.

“she gets a little tighter right before you push in,” the green haired hero beefs from deep within his throat, the glow of his eyes trained on the way bakugou’s fat cockhead brushes against the beginnings of your soft walls, trying to push into your little abused cunt. your eyes water at the delightful sting, tears streaking a path down the apples of your cheeks as your body breaks into a sheet of goosebumps. “gotta keep tryin’ s-she’ll take you eventually.”

they talk about you like you’re not even there, using you in one way or another to get off but katsuki tries again, peeling his leather covered chest from your sweat slicked back and shoving his knee between your soaked thighs to part them even wider. deku groans as even more of your pulsating pussy stretching around the masked man is revealed to him. “it…h-hurts,” you hiccups, muscles in your hips locked despite how badly you want it. “y-you’re bigger than ‘zuku, katsuki,” and even though there is a twinge of pain every time the anti-hero fucks an inch of his length into you, you rock your hips back onto him— smiling to yourself as more of his girth sinks into you.

“ya hear that, shitty bug. your girlfriend thinks my cock is worth more than yours,” a contended, deep sigh lays wet on bakugou’s lips— teasing in tone as he ploughs onwards, his voice making your cunt shudder and grip onto his mushroomed, oozing tip, letting your cunt catch onto every ridge and bump and burned imperfection decorating his shaft. “tellin’ me how to fuck this pussy when he’s barely been in it himself, pathetic, hah sweetheart?” you should feel bad for agreeing, nodding your head feverently, but there’s hardly time to think what you say over. bakugou’s fingers, calloused from whatever birthed deadpool dance over your soft tummy, your hip bone to pacify the bite of your pain by fumbling with your pleasure bud, writing praise against it so you open him up like a flower in bloom— sweet nectar painting his entire hand, and again the skin of your thighs.

“you gonna let him take you, love?” deku manages to ask over the drool filling his mouth and flooding the palette of his tongue. “i know you can, you’ve always been so good at doing what you’re told.” the rising temperature of the room turns his face as red as the suit cutting deliciously into your skin from behind, kacchan’s mask tough against your back and ass as he grinds his meaty cock into you.

you shake your head yes for what feels like the millionth time, head lolling back to rest against deadpool’s shoulder— too weak to hold himself up since the added stimulation between your legs as you selfishly sucking more of the man in, letting his girth nestle itself against your warmth, churning you up just right. the more attention he pays to your clit, the more of himself he fucks into you until he’s able to bottom out, balls snug against your iron hot cunt. every movement, each twitch in the room comes to a standstill so everyone can adjust, your core rippling around katsuki and izuku beginning to cup his dick, waiting for his friend’s command to touch himself.

bakugou sets a steady rhythm to his hips, calculatedly making sure each one hits deep enough to smear his thick precum against your g-spot, his hips fluidly flowing into you like a rushing river— skin on skin echoing throughout the room. slick sounds accompany the tune of sex, izuku wrapping a firm hand around his own shaft, jerking himself off in tune with the speed at which katsuki passionately ruts into you— shameful and creamy as you swallow him up. deku fucks his fist like it’s your greedy little entrance, if he closes his eyes tight enough it feels just like you. sweat beads on his hairline like humiliation builds up in his bloodstream, carried about his body and straight to his arousal bleeding tip that his thumb circles over, pushing through the beads of precum at the slit.

you feel everything, the slow stroke of deadpool’s creamed tip into your sluice and gooey insides, drowned in what feels like gallons of your essence— weakly rocking your hips down onto his, with tiny mewls that send both men into a frenzy. “couldn’t get your dick out for your girl but could for me fucking her? pathetic.” he sneers to your goody two shoes boyfriend, making him feel like even more of a pervert.

perhaps this does make him one, it’s been so long since izuku gave you the time of day and the attention that you needed— hanging his duty of Spider-Man just one peg above you always. he couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of nights he’d left you, his loyal and sweet girlfriend unattended to because being the friendly neighbourhood hero garnered all of his focus. maybe being a little debauched was what your sex life needed, for izuku to take a seat and really learn how to make you see stars. to have his lover ravaged and pounded into like a bitch needing to be fucked in heat.

that’s what he needed to wake up— see how much his baby needed him. “‘m sorry,” he hiccups, emerald gem eyes filled with crystalline tears that catch in his waterline, from pleasure or regret, your boyfriend can’t even tell. clear precum guides his movements, hips rising from the bed needily while his palm slides up and down his lengthy and chubby shaft, white caught in the fuzz of his pubic hair. “‘m sorry i’m no good at f-fucking her— shit, that i can’t keep it up. love, god…”

“fuck me, yer whiney,” deadpool laughs between heaves of his chest, concentrated on taking you to cloud nine— letting you know that he fucks you better than anyone who has before. “aren’t you embarrassed that a man like me has both you and your girl a mess? c’mon spidey, at least act like you hate me doing your job.” izuku howls at the degradation, and though your eyes are hazy, you swear that he’s swollen with an impending orgasm— the shredded latex that covers his hands squeezing at his weighty balls that look just about to burst. “still don’t know how a wet wimp like you managed to bag such a pretty lady, s’almost like she’s paid to be here,”

licking a stripe up your neck, bakugou goes on, hands exploring every dip and curve in your body— pinching your sides and your clit and your nipples, nibbling on your shoulder and leaving marks where izuku would. “you know that right, that you’re fucking gorgeous,” his praise sends a shiver down your spine and butterflies in a frenzy within your lower tummy, leaving you gasping for air and a clenching mess. “moans sound so perfect, pussy swallowin’ me down… never met such a good girl, even when you’re crying like this.”

“i-i’m a good girl?” you manage over the balls tapping your pearl at the centre of your viscous honeyed cunt, wet slaps bouncing off the wall.

“so fucking good, sweetheart, love how you wrap around me, how you take this cock— you like it, i know you do,” he goes on, cupping your breasts as they bounce along with the rapid lunges of his hips, choking on a deep gripe of your name. “you like bein’ fucked while your boyfriend watches, you like that it’s me, don’t you? let’s play a game sweetheart, let’s pretend i’m your boyfriend who knows how to fuck you just right? yeah? get you all loved up and cockdrunk.”

one second he’s balls deep, the early signs of katsuki’s release painting your guts as he churns them up, the next he’s got you flipped onto your back— your head by izuku’s lap and your thighs hiked over the latter’s broad, muscular shoulders. the whole world tilts on its axis, your head swimming and ears filled with cotton at the new angle, deadpool ramming into you missionary style and fucking you like he means it, like he loves you.

“h-hah, k-katsuki…need more. need you!” you squeal, his tip grinding roughly against your g-spot over and over until it makes your vision shake. his pelvis is smooshed agonisingly against your swollen clit, stimulating you beyond belief, ripping you to shreds while every push and pull of his slender hips pieces you back together again.

seeing him smirk above you as he cages you in against the soiled sheets with one hand above your head, has you a sweating, wet mess— heavy tears clumped in your lashes at the view. deadpool’s…katsuki’s got to be attractive, you just know it. though his skin seems littered with rough, harsh scars, it glows golden under the artificial yellow lighting in your bedroom— tufts of blonde peek out from below the mask and you feel yourself grow woozy at his bright, white toothy grin. your hands, curious and needy, run from his slender and slutty waist up to his bulking arms and toned chest— mapping out his body built to kill, to fight, and when your arms wrap around his neck, you whimper with frustration, perhaps desperation— greedy eyes and cunt wanting more.

“take off your mask,” you beg between hiccuped cries, mouth hanging open when the mercenary’s speed picks up mercilessly. “wanna see your face… wanna know who’s f-fucking me this good.”

cocking his head to the side, a rough thumb presses into your clit between your joined bodies. “ask me nice ‘n pretty, gorgeous. r’member who you’re talking to.”

you keen into his touch, back arching off the bed and ankles locking just above his ass. you hear izuku above you, groaning at the sight before him— while his friend moulds you into the shape of his cock. “go on baby, know you can be good…use your manners,” he heaves, shifting so that his knees are either side of your head, fisting his cock rapidly over your tear soaked face.

“please,” you repeat to both of them, pout on your face, voice hoarse.“t-take off your mask, please.” it’s only fair he does as you ask, since both yourself and deku are practically naked— himself almost fully clothed.

pulling the hand locking you against him, bakugou uses it to rip off his mask— tossing it back into the room somewhere only to lean down close, squishing your cheeks between his rough fingers. “like what’cha see gorgeous?” his voice is thick with ecstasy, filtering through your ears like warm honey and filling you with a similar sense of heat. katsuki is a fucking god. where your boyfriend, deku, is pretty, adorable and sure does have his moments, deadpool is another kind of attractive— a scar from his battles running down the length of his chiselled face as if he’s been carved from the same marble used to make statues of gods. his eyes remind you of molten lava, red pools bubbling over with such intensity you might pass out. “‘cause i do, love how you look right now, pussy chokin’ my cock like you wanna milk it, clingin’ onto me. love it, sweetheart.”

“love you,” you mewl in response, the world around you beginning to fall away— cease to exist, where the only feelings you know are katsuki’s shaft pressing up against your inner most sensitive spots and izuku tapping is leaky cock against your cheeks, wet moans of your name, tight and broken clinging to the air. “i love you, love your cock, love this, love you ‘zuku…” the three of you are a mess of juices splashing about the place and hot-to-the-touch skin, waves of clear liquid spewing from your puckered hole, creating a wet pap every time katsuki plunges back into you at unthinkable speeds.

“you love me, hah? c’mere,” bakugou swoops down, a grip on the backs of your thighs as he pushes your knees towards your chest and connects his lips to your own. the new angle has all of his weight onto you, galaxies forming behind your eyes while he pounds into your foaming entrance with rhythmic claps. his tongue swipes over your bottom lip, delves into your mouth until you can feel him right in your throat and sucks on your lips until they’re swollen and raw. “gonna take care of you where the shitty bug can’t, keep this pretty body nice and full of my cock— fuck me baby, you’re so sweet.” he tells you like it’s a promise, fucks it right into that empty head of yours.

while you grasp at sunshine locks, deku pants weakly behind you, strings of his near release dripping onto your face— his voice rising in octave. he’s trying so hard not to cum, savouring the pretty show being put on just for you, a front row seat to your sex grinding slick and lewdly up against bakugou’s, a creamy ring frothing around his base. “kacchan,” he cries, squeezing the bottom of his own dick to stave off his orgasm. “‘m gonna cum.”

“no. you’re not. you wanna cum before your girlfriend does? no wonder why she’s so hungry for me cock you can barely last yourself,” although the blonde’s words are mean, evil enough to make your precious boyfriend hiccup with his own wave of tears, running low on stamina and hips rutting high into nothing, bakugou takes hold of deku’s chubby cock, guiding it before your lip locks and kisses. “suck, sweetheart. he cums, you get to cum, kay?”

“uhuh,” you agree, pacified by having both of your entrances filled and let your strawberry tongue glide over izuku’s salty tip just the way he likes— hollowing your cheeks to suck him in nice and deep.

between watching his girlfriend get her pussy destroyed by another man and having her swallow him down, tight throat constricting around him— there’s no way izuku can last any longer, especially when bakugou spits on to his shaft, rolling his balls too. he wants nothing more than to watch you both fall apart from him, switching his attention from your boyfriend to you, seemingly flipping a cold blade out of nowhere to press against your throat— knowing it’ll only get you wetter, sloppier and messier, messing with your mind.

it gets you to clench just right too.

“fuck…that’s it, fuckin’ shit…” katsuki seems to have no control over his body either, barely holding back but the sight of your throat bulging for deku and your creamed cunt is enough to send him over the edge. he chokes on a moan of relief, tip nudging your g-spot and hands shaking with the treat of cutting your pretty throat as he runs towards his orgasm. “g-god sweetheart, got me breedin’ you. fuck, you want it bad,” static nearly blinds the anti-hero, curses spilling from his lips like his gum that spills into you in hot white ropes. he hisses, pulling his cock from your spasming hole and jerks himself off through the rest of his high, cumming and cunning until it splatters up your soft, marked tummy and over your ruined pussy lips.

“can i cum now? c-can i? d-don’t think i can— oh baby… h-hold it!” your spider-man boyfriend comes next, thick and right down your throat until you choke on his heavy seed as it pours out by the corner of your swollen lips— he has to web your wrists together to stop you from pinching his freckled thighs so that he pulls out, the rest of his hot load shooting over your face, tangling in your eyelashes as his body convulses above your own.

with his breathing evening out, bakugou takes hold of his weighty length, smearing his seed into your skin and over your ravaged mound— knowing that you sit on the edge of your own release, a stunning mess of tears and cum and juices. “think it’s your turn, hah, pretty girl?” he grins wide at how you can barely manage to nod, and exhausted from the night’s activities. the blonde mercenary only tuts, slapping his cockhead against your clit, pushing it into your slit along with globs of his cum until the knot in your stomach twists, unravelling violently and all at once, release splattering out against his stomach, in a clear stream. “there you go, doin’ so well.”

“so well beautiful,” izuku parrots, mesmerised by the way your face contorts into an adorable pout while you cum, coated in his own release that spreads over his tongue as he leans down to kiss you slow, and encouragingly to swallow the scream you let out.

the three of you collapse a pile of over exerted limbs, with deku checking you over like the hero he truly is.

“so, same time next fuckin’ week?” deadpool asks, grinning when you agree hastily. “and oi, you lot. don’t go askin’ for a part two. it ain’t happenin’, it’s a private screening.”

deku hums in agreement too, but makes a mental note to ask iron man to make him a looser suit, for practical reasons of course— not so it’s easier for him to fuck you, or anything.

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